Demon of Darkness (The Hellbound Hellion #2) - Tansey Morgan Page 0,3

be beaten at poker by an angel a third time… what the hell was I doing? To his credit, Zephon’s poker face was incredible. Stoic, dark, unreadable, the stormy grey of his eyes giving absolutely nothing away no matter how carefully I stared at him.

“Are you going to play, or just watch me?” he asked.

I didn’t know the second one was an option.

We were sitting across from each other, in the back of Jericho’s van, the world around us rumbling lightly. The sun was already starting to set across the mountainous horizon. I knew we’d have to stop to rest, and probably soon, but the gorgon was still on the move. We needed to keep up the pace or risk falling behind again, and that meant stopping only when she stopped.

“I’m thinking,” I said, looking at the cards in my hand, and then at the cards on the makeshift table we had set up between us.

In my hand I had two Jacks, a six of hearts, a King, and a two of clubs. In other words, I had almost nothing. A pair. I was usually good at reading people. Zephon should’ve had no chance at beating me. But as I studied his eyes, searching for a sign that he was bluffing, or any kind of tell, I found myself coming up short again.

The moment of tension continued. Out of the corner of my eye, Jericho’s big, ginger cat—Jesper—yawned, then scratched behind his ear. The van bounced lightly on the road, but the cat didn’t seem to care too much. Looking back at Zephon, some of his black hair had fallen past his eye line.

“I’m gonna call,” I said, tossing a couple of pieces of chocolate onto the table next to the candy Zephon had dropped a moment ago.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Calling?” he asked, “But you have no cards.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“Two out of three wins so far tells me that I can, and I do.”

“Are you reading my mind or something? Because I might be a demon, but cheating isn’t fair.”

“Oh, the irony…”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m very well aware of the irony.”

“Okay, show me your cards,” he said, his eyes low.

“What if I don’t want to?” I asked.

“You have to. Those are the rules.”

I scowled. “Okay, fine. But if you win this round, I’m going to need to check your sleeves for more cards.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

Screwing up my face, I set my hand down on the table, keeping my eyes on the cards. “Pair of Jacks.”

Zephon waited, almost hesitating. I turned my eyes up at him to find him very slowly revealing his cards. He also had a pair, only his was a pair of tens. In other words; I had nothing cards, and he had less than nothing cards. He set them down across from mine, dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t believe he’d been beaten.

“Well, well,” I said, a smirk spreading across my face. “Would you look at that?”

“That is… surprising.”

“Is it?”

“Considering I know your tell, it is.”

My eyebrows arched. “You know my tell? How do you know my tell, and what is it?”

“We have played three hands so far. You’ve been unlucky to have gotten some awful cards, but every time—just before you decide to call—you’ve looked at Jesper, over here. I thought that was your tell, but I was proved wrong this time.”

I shrugged. “He’s cute… I like looking at him.”

Speaking of cute.

My eyes shifted momentarily at Arael, who was riding shotgun up ahead. I couldn’t see his horns, he kept them glamored while he was around Jericho, but I saw the back of his red hair, flowing in the wind coming through the open window. I could smell him from here; his strangely soft, but clearly masculine musk.

The corner of my mouth tugged into a grin.

“Another hand?” Zephon asked, “Maybe, best three out of five?”

“It’s getting dark,” I said, “And we can’t drive around with interior lights on—right Jericho?” I called out the last part.

“That’s right,” he said, over his shoulder. I caught his eyes in the rearview and offered him a light smile. “The last thing we need is to get pulled over by state patrol considering none of you have any kind of identification.”

I looked over at Zephon again, fidgeting with my hair. “How are you so good at poker, anyway?”

“Well…” he paused, “The three of us spent several months at our forward post, mostly by ourselves, with only our duties to keep us busy. Occasionally something interesting would happen,