“Come on, I’ll just keep asking,” she said, and dealt the cards. “Or maybe I’ll ask around the university.”
“The hell you will.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I’m not above it. My life’s at risk in this search, and I want to know why it’s so important.”
He stayed silent.
“How about we play for it. If I win, you tell me. If you win, you can keep your secret.”
Warren eyed the cards she’d laid out.
“You know I won’t hesitate to ask around.”
He could probably beat her if she played fair. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t manipulate the cards with her magic, but there was also no guarantee that she wouldn’t ask around at the university. Part of him even wanted to lose, if he was honest with himself. He’d never told another what had happened to him, had carried the burden himself.
As he should.
But still.
“All right, lassie. I win, you drop it. You win, I’ll tell you why I couldn’t go into the howf. Best two out of three.”
She smiled, then dealt the flop.
Damn it. His hand was shit and had little chance of improving when the next cards were revealed. He looked up to see her smiling at the cards, lush red lips parted in a grin that caught his breath. Silken black hair swept over her shoulder and hung down in waves, making him wonder what the strands would feel like between his fingers.
H stifled a frustrated groan and dragged his gaze away from her lips and his mind away from thoughts of throwing her on the bed and finding out just how good she tasted.
But he wasn’t able to get his mind back on the game. Within minutes, she’d won that hand with cards that would have beaten his no matter how good his focus. “That’s the best hand you’ve had all night,” he said.
“Lucky me.” She handed him the cards.
He accepted them and dealt out their hands, glancing up once to see her peering hard at the cards. Didn’t she trust him to deal fairly? He scowled.
He glanced at his cards, cursing silently when he saw a two and a nine against a flop that did him no favors. The next two cards laid upon the table didn’t help.
He’d lost.
Esha confirmed it by laying her hand upon the table and grinning at him. Her cat slinked around the feet of her big chair, peering up at him and flicking its tail.
“Well,” she said, letting the word hang in the air as she refilled his glass and her own with the bright amber liquid that so perfectly matched her eyes.
Carefully, he placed his cards on the table and leaned back in his chair. He focused on breathing in, then breathing out as a chill ran over his arms with little mouse feet. Was he really going to reveal to another how he had become what he was? To her?
She sat across from him silently, her eyes searching his as she waited for his tale. He’d made a deal, and he never went back on his word.
“I’m happy to wait all night,” she said. Instead of being challenging as he’d expected, her voice held an undercurrent of understanding. Patience. Considering what he’d put her through, she deserved to know.
“I doona have a soul.” The weight of a secret held hundreds of years too long lifted off his shoulders even as his breath stuck in his lungs and his head buzzed. What could she possibly think of him now?
There was nothing more important in their world than souls. They were the core of a person, the part that gave a Mythean immortality on earth or allowed mortals to pass on to their afterworld. Without it, he was a… thing. Not really a Mythean, not really a mortal.
When he caught her gaze, he saw surprise. Shock, even. Her lips parted on a wordless question as she searched his face, no doubt looking for the joke.
“You’re… serious?” she asked.
He nodded.
“How? How is that even possible?”