“I’m not bluffing,” the girl said. She raised an eyebrow and pushed forty thousand dollars’ worth of chips forward. “Raise.”
The guy scoffed, scratching the back of his neck as he contemplated his choices for a couple of seconds. The female gambler, on the other hand, had quickly sunk into despair. I realized then that maybe her hand wasn’t all that good. If I wanted to confirm collusion between the cucumbers, I needed the lady to fold so I could then watch the guy fold as well, and let the girl win. It seemed like the natural way for it to play out at that point.
“Okay, now I’m pissed,” the guy said, and raised her another twenty.
The female gambler cursed under her breath and folded, nervously counting the chips she had left, while the cucumbers pretended to glower at each other. It was getting a little too dramatic for my taste. Even a non-empath could tell they were slightly over the top.
“All in,” the girl challenged the guy, and pushed the rest of her chips into the middle, prompting the others to stare at her in disbelief.
The pot was somewhere over $350,000, and it was time for the guy to shake his head in disappointment, then fold. My fingers gripped the edge of the table, my nerves anticipating the moment I’d get my proof of collusion. I knew they were hot for each other in ways no two people meeting for the first time would ever be.
He tossed the cards, facedown, feigning irritation as he gulped down his drink, then motioned for a waiter to bring him another one.
Bingo!
Once they got away with this, they were going to get more brazen. I wanted them to dig themselves into a hole as deep as possible. The bigger their winnings at the end of the night, the bigger my prize.
I straightened my back as the dealer collected the cards and shuffled them, while the girl raked the mountain of chips over to her side of the table. She stacked them quickly into groups of $20,000, between sips of her fruity drink.
Personally, I looked forward to watching that smirk get wiped off at the end of the night.
It was time to get security to pay attention. I fiddled with my onyx earring, giving the head of security a brief sideways glance. Malcolm the bouncer stood at the end of the bar, ten yards away, pretending to chat with the bartender. He noticed my signal and discreetly brought a hand over his mouth, communicating a message through the tiny mic mounted into one of his cufflinks.
Prologue
I froze, my back against the window, my whole body shivering as the beast in front of me shuddered with delight.
Another second and I would become its dinner.
Something inside me roared like thunder, unwilling to give in yet. The air around me thickened—I could feel it tickling my fingertips, beckoning me to wield it. I’d done it before, though not with the strength I would need to disable a fiend as savage as this.
But I had to try. There was no other choice.
I summoned all the energy I could muster, and, for the first time ever, I sensed the particles of Chaos flowing through me. My mind went into overdrive, and I thrust my hands out. The winds outside listened, rumbling and whistling as they crashed through the window.
I ducked as broken glass exploded everywhere. Shards cut through the beast’s face and eyes, and it hissed from the pain.
With no other route to safety, I embraced the winds and leapt onto the windowsill. My breath hitched as I looked down at the sheer drop, and then I closed my eyes, abandoning myself to the air.
Chapter One
My eyes wandered around the poker table.
The dealer, a young man in his early twenties, had been fitted into a crisp white shirt and black silk waistcoat, his brown hair slicked back with too much gel. His dexterity as he shuffled the deck made me stare, before I went on to check the players.
Two women and three men. Three of them had skipped on the Gamblers Anonymous meetings—I could tell from their frayed nerves and shoulder-crushing guilt. It was written all over their faces. The other two, a man in his late twenties and a cute brunette who didn’t look a day older than twenty-three, struck me as the coolest cucumbers I’d seen all evening.
This was a steady gig I’d gotten my hands on, so I had to do a good job. Three months in, and I’d already gotten fifteen people banned for cheating and counting cards. It wasn’t an easy profession, though—for most people, anyway. It required a lot of psychology and the study of body language, along with excellent knowledge of the game itself. You had higher chances of success if you were a former cheater, preferably with some Vegas experience. But I had very little experience at all.