Page 2 of Hunting for his Fairy Queen
Jack wipes grime from one dazzling silver button. The ruddy material is ill-fitting but not worn in the way the rest of his clothing is. It must've cost a hefty sum.
How many others has he conned at this table?
"Luck is such a fickle thing," I chuckle, letting my hand drift beneath the table. "You never know when it's going to run out."
Before Jack guesses my meaning, I crush my losing cards and wrap my hand around the blunt end of my dagger. I brandish the weapon, the silver blade reflecting the setting sun. A shout rings out, followed by the sound of swords unsheathing. Patrons curse and stumble over toppled chairs to avoid the violence.
Fighting is forbidden in the gambling den. Unless there is proof of cheating.
The evidence of Eight-Finger Jack's deception tumbles to the velvet as I slit the breast of his coat. Dozens of high-value cards spill out, each a perfect replica of the ones used in this establishment. He must've spent months slipping them into his pocket when no one was looking.
Winning hand after winning hand litters the table. Countless sets ofThe King's CrownandThe Knight's Blade, followed by the nearly impossible arrangement ofThe Queen's Heart.
I pick up the illustrious cards and fan them out on my side.
Jack makes a choking sound as he rears back from the table. I pin his sleeve with my blade, puncturing the ruined surface of the table.
"Cheating again, Jack? And I thought the eight fingers would be enough of a deterrent to keep you honest." My lips twitch. "Seven-Finger Jack doesn't suit the tongue."
"No! Please, I can?—"
"Save it, Jack." The booming voice comes from a hulking man.
His bald head gleams like it's been polished with wax. Knives decorate his waist, and a pistol hangs from his hip. Crossing two meaty arms over his chest, he nods as two more guards with impressive builds grip Jack under the armpits.
"The boss will want another finger."
"I beg of you—please?—"
His whines echo through the den as his boots squeak on the hardwood. Thrashing in their grips is futile. Jack will be lucky if the owner of the Golden Dolphin only takes a finger. A second cheating infraction usually costs a man his eye. For his sake, I hope it doesn’t come to that.
Eight-Finger, One-Eyed Jackis a nightmare to say.
"Pleasure playing with you as always," I call after him.
I pull my winnings into my chest. The glittering jewels and gold coins smile up at me. It was risky to bargain with mytreasures, but risks always seem to have a way of working out for me. The more I leave to chance, the better I tend to shake out.
My riches will pay for an excellent bed and Merigold's undivided attention for the next two weeks. Hells, I can afford to have Ruby join us.
As I always say, two redheads are better than one.
Three redheads,fuck me, that would be?—
A figure slides into Jack's empty chair. I don't bother looking up. Visions of red tresses and supple skin make my focus singular. The Silk Pillow waits for no man, and Merigold is highly sought after. Her affections for my charms aren't enough to secure her from another with just as ample a purse.
It's been a few months since I last removed a corset. It's a skill I'm uncommonly good at, but more practice never hurts.
"No more cards for me tonight, friend. A bed and a lovely woman—three if I'm fortunate—await me."
The gold and jewels rattle as I scoop them.
My blood heats as it always does. I was born to be a treasure hunter. The thrill of exploration is more addictive than any of the euphoric smoke that exists in the pleasure halls. I live for the rush it brings me.
While pleasures of the flesh may be calling to me now, the desire for companionship will fade.
The restlessness I’ve felt as a child will come roaring back. Spurring me to search for the one treasure that’s eluded me since I was a child.
The restless claws dig into my stomach in agreement.
