Hunting Fiends for the Ill-Equipped (The Guild Codex Demonized #3) - Annette Marie Page 0,1
cards left. I drew two cards from the stock, added them to my hand, then slapped down an eight. “I choose spades.”
He played the nine of spades. Two cards left in his hand.
“You’re saying you can’t hear my thoughts, but only when I don’t want you to hear them?” I asked suspiciously as I rearranged my cards, planning my next move while simultaneously dissecting his expression. “How can you tell if you’re not hearing things I think?”
He said nothing, waiting for my play, so I tossed down the two of spades and the two of clubs. His mouth thinned as he drew four cards, putting him at six and me at four.
After a moment’s thought, he laid down an eight. “Diamonds.”
I slapped my second eight down. “Spades again.”
He scowled at his hand, then drew a card. I played another spade, leaving me with the jack and six of spades. As long as he didn’t change the suit, I could play them both on my next turn and win our tiebreaker.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I accused as he scrutinized his options.
His scarlet gaze rose to me. “There are many things you think that I do not know. Like your face, drādah, and how it changes color.”
My eyes popped.
“Your skin turns red,” he mused as he leisurely drew a card from the stock. “Your breath grows quick. Your heart beats faster. Your scent changes …” He canted his head, observing my reaction. “You stare at me, and there are thoughts in your eyes, but I hear nothing.”
My mouth opened and closed, and I could feel the telltale heat rising in my cheeks.
His voice dropped to a husky murmur. “What are you thinking now, drādah?”
“N-nothing.”
His eyelids lowered, hooding his eyes. “Do not lie to me.”
I gulped and stammered, “Wh-whose turn is it?”
“Your turn.”
I snatched a card from my hand and tossed it down. As it hit the pile, I realized it was the six of spades. I was supposed to play my jack first to skip his turn! I would’ve won!
He fanned out his seven cards, watching me with calculating eyes, then played the six of diamonds over my six of spades, changing the suit.
I drew a card—the five of spades.
“What are you hiding?”
My attention shot back to him. “Wh-what?”
He played a diamond. “When your face changes color and your breath comes fast, is that because of me?”
“No!”
“Lying again, drādah.”
Crap. Fighting my intensifying blush, I yanked a card off the stock. The last eight of the deck! Now we were talking.
He played another diamond, reducing his hand to four. “Why do you guard these thoughts? You do not hide other thoughts about me.”
“It’s none of your business,” I declared as I slapped down my eight. “Spades.”
And with that, I won. With no more eights, he couldn’t change the suit, and on my next turn, I would play the jack and five of spades, emptying my hand.
As I clutched my winning pair, he fanned out his remaining four cards. Two jacks had been played, and the third was in my hand. Even if he skipped my turn once, I’d still win. The only way he could win was if he—
He placed the seven of spades on the pile. Then he put the seven of diamonds on top of it. Then he laid the seven of clubs on top of that. My eyes narrowed to slits as he held up his final card.
“No,” I growled.
He dropped the seven of hearts on top of the pile, emptying his hand.
“No way!” I yelled, flinging my two cards into the air. With those four cards, he would’ve won no matter which suit I’d chosen.
He flashed a grin and pulled the cinnamon buns across the table. “Vh’renithnās.”
He’d only just learned the game, yet he’d beaten me three times in a row. Leaving the cards where they were, I pushed to my feet, fuming. Maybe I was a sore loser, but he was already bigger and faster and stronger and more cunning and he had an eidetic memory. He shouldn’t be better at cards too. It wasn’t fair.
As I stormed past him, he caught my wrist and pulled me backward. One arm flailing, I lost my balance and fell—landing squarely in his lap.
My blush reignited and I shoved away from him. He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me down, and his warm breath stirred my hair.
“You missed it, drādah,” he breathed in my ear. “Your moment of dh’ērrenith.”