Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,59
his next card into the middle of the table. I did the same—eight of clubs—and Fintan followed shortly after.
“At this table?”
“In this prison,” I hissed, sweeping the three cards back to me. Fintan shrugged with the nonchalance of a man who had never had to care about anything in his life, that smirk implying this was one big game.
Maybe he was a prince.
“Got caught taking names from humans at a bar,” he admitted with a sigh and a slight roll of his eyes. “I wasn’t going to keep them… I’m just so fucking bored most days, and I get extra trickstery when I drink. Bounty hunters picked me up, brought me here, told me I was guilty… Which I suppose I am, but hardly by fae law.” He sniffed, elegantly stroking another card from the top of his deck. “But at least this is a bit of excitement… for as long as it lasts, anyway. I’m sure the rescue party is on the way.”
Elijah might have dubbed me a member of his clan, but we lacked the telepathic bond shifters shared with their kin—blood or otherwise. Still, when our eyes met, as usual I knew precisely what he was thinking. This guy is fucking delusional…
Maybe. Hard to say with some of the characters in here. He could just be a spoiled fae fuck, or he could be completely off his rocker. Only time would tell, but at least we outnumbered him.
“You here to play games?” Elijah took the next round.
“Only with those who deserve it,” Fintan remarked, pouting handsomely when I took the one after.
“You plan to join a gang?” I had to know—had to at least feel him out. The fae glanced between us, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Is there an opening here?” he purred, everything about him—his posture, his tone, his expression—suggesting this was a man accustomed to getting his way. When neither of us gave him that, Fintan cleared his throat and reshuffled his deck, those skilled hands struggling to stay still. “Everyone else just seems so petty. I’ve done the gang thing—been where that demon is with clout-chasers ready to lick my taint and gargle my balls if I asked.” What the ever-loving fuck? “It’s played out. It’s cliché, and cliché is boring.”
I exchanged another quick glance with Elijah, and once again his reaction surprised me. Exuding a calm alpha aura, he set his cards aside, threaded his huge hands together, and placed them on the table. Pupils narrowed, he spoke with a rich, gravelly dragon rasp that I so rarely heard—and never in a conversation like this.
“We don’t play games,” he stated, catching Fintan’s gaze and holding it. “We don’t pull rank. We don’t draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. We just want to do our time and get the fuck out of here.” He leaned closer to the fae, head cocked. “Now, is that boring for you?”
“Hello, dragon,” Fintan whispered, swooping close and staring directly into Elijah’s eyes. He seemed about two seconds away from grabbing the shifter’s face so he could really get in there, scrutinize to his heart’s content, but he withdrew just as a snarl rumbled in Elijah’s chest. He flashed us both a grin, then tossed his card onto the table. “Maybe in time this whole sit on the sidelines shtick will lose its appeal, but for now, honestly, it’s probably what I need.”
He gestured to his bruised face as if that was reason enough. Elijah might have nodded and set the four of clubs next to the six of diamonds, but he didn’t believe him—a sentiment we shared. Miss Fox. If anything, Fintan had weaseled his way into our trio with the intention of getting closer to Katja. Obviously he hadn’t realized what a minefield he’d stumbled into, but if he was as observant as he implied, he would eventually see it—the complications, the tension, the tense air that surrounded all three of us.
Perhaps in time he would regret wandering into the fray, moving on to simpler games and easier targets. In the end, that was probably best for a fae who reeked of self-indulgence and wanton extravagance. Katja navigated her prison sentence just as we did, and while from the outside our little group was quite dull, we had our fair share of drama brewing, and at no point would the spotlight ever rest solely on Fintan. A man who only cared about himself would eventually gravitate toward a more eager audience.