Kami Garcia - Dangerous Dream

When Ridley turned around, the guy from Suffer—the gorgeous stranger she’d caught staring at her from the edge of the stage—stood in the doorway.

“You came in late,” he said to her. “I don’t think we have a record of your marker.”

Her marker.

Ridley hadn’t even considered what to wager, since winning the game was a guarantee. “I don’t know. What do you want?”

The Caster strode toward her. When he reached her seat, he leaned down until Ridley could feel his breath on her neck, and whispered in her ear.

“What?” She must have heard him wrong.

He can’t be serious.

This time, his mouth was so close to her ear that she felt his lips against her skin. There was no mistaking what he said.

Ridley shuddered, and goose bumps crawled up her arms.

“Like I’d ever agree to that,” she tossed off, trying to keep her cool.

“The way I see it, you don’t really have a choice.” He walked over to the wall in front of her and leaned against it. “Everyone has to register their marker before they play, or the house gets to choose.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “House rules.”

“Tell her, Lennox,” Floyd said.

Ridley tossed her hair nonchalantly. “Well, I didn’t know anything about that. So I’m sure you can make an exception.”

Lennox—whoever he was—gave her a long look. “I can’t do that. You’ll have to play this one out.”

There was something strange about the way he said it, but Ridley couldn’t put her finger on it. “Fine.”

This situation was anything but fine. Even though Ridley knew she could manipulate the outcome of the game, this guy, Lennox, made her antsy. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would risk anything on a card game, especially not one he didn’t already know he would win.

Just like me , she thought. So I guess he’s met his match.

“We’re back on play,” the dealer said, lifting his hands off the discard pile.

Rid waited until Sampson’s attention was focused on her before she made her move. Bluff. She’ll never figure it out.

He hesitated, the way he had the last time she used her powers on him. Then he dropped his card. “King.”

“Liar.” Ridley let the word roll off her tongue slowly.

Lennox moved closer to the tables, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Sampson bit his lip.

Poor baby.

Ridley barely noticed when he flipped his card over—until someone gasped. The Caster card rested on the top of the discard pile.

King of fates.

Ridley couldn’t hide her shock. “No. That can’t be right.”

“Why? Because you used your Siren song on him?” Lennox asked.

It felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath her. How the hell did he know? More importantly, why the hell didn’t it work?

“Don’t worry, Little Siren. You haven’t lost your touch,” Lennox said, as if he could read her mind.

“How did you know?” She choked out the words, still in shock.

“I’ve known all night.” He didn’t answer the question.

Ridley stared across the table at Sampson. “He put some kind of Cast on you, didn’t he? So my powers wouldn’t work on you.”

“He didn’t need to,” Sampson said. He smiled, for the first time all night. “Your powers don’t work on me.”

Ridley’s head was spinning. She wished she had her friend John Breed’s scorpion belt buckle so that she could dematerialize and Travel like an Incubus. “What kind of Caster are you?”

Sampson watched her with those steel gray eyes. “I’m not a Caster.”

He couldn’t be a full-blooded Incubus. There was no way to hide the black eyes of an Incubus behind a pair of gray contacts. “Then what are you? Some kind of hybrid Incubus?”

“No.” The corner of his mouth turned up into a smile. “I’m something else.”

Lennox stood behind Sampson. “He’s a Darkborn.”

“What the hell is that?” Ridley had no idea what he was talking about.

“When the Order of Things was broken, it changed things,” Lennox said. “You should pay a little more attention to the world around you.”

“I’ve been busy,” she said calmly.

But inside she was starting to panic.

Ridley rose, her knees wobbling, and looked up at Lennox. “You guys cheated, so the game doesn’t count. I’ll see you around.” She started to turn away, and the bouncers moved toward her.

Lennox walked between the bouncers and stood in front of Ridley. He tucked a stray strand of pink hair behind her ear. “No. You cheated, Little Siren. Now you’re going to pay the debt you owe me.”

“You weren’t even in the game.”

Lennox smiled. “Sampson was playing for me. His debts are mine, and so is his take.”

Ridley remembered what he had whispered in her ear—what he wanted from her—and she felt sick. She couldn’t do it.

Never.

He ran his finger gently down her cheek and across her lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he reached the door, he stopped and turned back to look at her. “I almost forgot. I’m opening a new club in New York, and these guys are my house band.” He glanced at the members of the Devil’s Hangmen.

Ridley gave him a blank stare. “That concerns me because?”

“You owe me a drummer. And you’d better find one before my club opens,” Lennox said. “In Liar’s Trade, the winner calls in his markers whenever he chooses. I’m calling that one in now. You might want to study up on the rules before you play at the big girl table.”

Ridley tried to keep her expression unreadable.

Lennox winked. “Next time.”

He disappeared down the hallway, and Ridley stared after him.

His marker.

A drummer.

New York City.

She frowned.

Even for her, this was cold.

Still.

Ridley twirled a strand of pink hair. “I think I know just the guy.”