This part of her that stubbornly believed in a connection between her and Elias, a connection that was outside the world’s reach, couldn’t withstand being trampled on any more.
It was in tatters.
“My dear,” a voice said to her left, and she turned her head to find a gray-haired man in a pink sweater vest and a bowtie approaching. He was the man Elias had been speaking with. There were no wings attached to his back, but there was a certain brilliance to his skin when combined with his oversized features, that told Roksana he was fae. “I am a terrible host. Allow me to introduce myself! I am the man of the house.”
Roksana waited for a name and realized there wasn’t one coming. “Roksana,” she managed, holding out her hand. “Charmed.”
He planted a kiss on her knuckles and pulled back with sparkling eyes, oozing Americana like a small-town mayor. “I take it Cosette showed you her closet.”
She forced herself not to react when Elias sat down to her right, his scent, his presence stampeding through her like a dozen loose horses. How could having him close affect her like a sharp, sensual attack when they’d so recently been in close quarters? It wasn’t fair. Especially now when her damnable trust in him was reeling. When the man of the house cleared his throat, she realized he was waiting for her response. “Ah…yes. I did see Cosette’s closet. It was more like a warehouse.”
He tossed a bark of laughter up at the ceiling. “Before we get started, my dear, please allow me to bring you a drink.”
“No, thank you.”
The smile remained frozen on his face, reminding her of Cosette when she’d declined to have her backpack taken away. The legend might be that the fae had left behind their black sheep when they’d vanished to the Faerie realm, but Roksana was starting to think they’d left behind their most deceptively dangerous. “Just the obligatory house drink, then.”
Roksana’s sixth sense started to pulse. “Which is?”
His shrug was almost prim. “Just a tiny shot of motivation to make things interesting.” He glided to his seat in the dealer spot and sat down. “Now. This is no limit Texas hold ’em. Everyone has been given an equal amount of chips and the blinds will start at ten-twenty. Whoever has all the chips at the end wins our prize. Is that clear enough?”
Murmurs all around.
Cosette floated out of seemingly nowhere. In one hand, she held a tray of shot glasses, each of them full to the brim with clear liquid. She stopped behind Roksana first and set one of the shots down in front of her. “If this is vodka, we don’t get along. It never got the memo that I’m Russian and should be able to handle more than a drop. I’ll pass.”
“Not if you want to play,” Cosette sing-songed, dropping shots off in front of Rob, then Tucker, each of the stoic fae, then eventually Elias. “All of you are here to compete for one thing. The marriage decree for Mary the Mad—a document of great worth. But who wants it most? This drink will ensure the player with the strongest motivation wins.” She smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Once drunk, the concoction determines what it is you want the most in life. It will amplify that desire. Enflame it. You will compete harder knowing you could obtain your one true desire by winning tonight’s bounty, be it superiority or wealth.”
“You didn’t think we would make it easy, did you?” crooned the man of the house, circling the table. “We seek to be entertained. There’s every chance an underworld poker game would be thrilling enough, but we like a little guarantee. Not to mention, we can’t have pulses pitter pattering and giving certain creatures an advantage. This will slow it down.”
Roksana glanced briefly at Tucker and found him passing Elias a subtle nod. What were they communicating to each other?
“On three, everyone.” Cosette’s eyes grew excited, the tray gripped tightly in her hands. Everyone picked up the shot glass, save Roksana, whose stomach was taking repeated dives. The concoction determines what it is you want the most in life. It will amplify that desire. Enflame it. Was she ready to find out what that was? On paper, her greatest desire was being the badass slayer daughter her mother deserved. She wanted to avenge her friends. But what if she secretly wanted, needed, something…or someone much different?
“One, two…”
Elias tossed back his shot.
At the same time, Tucker dropped his on the floor, shattering the glass.
With everyone distracted by the error, Elias reached over in a blur of speed, took her shot glass and drank it himself. Within a split second, Roksana was staring down at an empty glass and Elias had gone back to looking bored.