Page 45 of Vicious Kingdom

At my brother’s words, I scanned the crowd, immediately spying the balding figure making a beeline for the game of Blackjack. His sort was common. Some plebian who thought to make a quick buck at our expense. The suit was dated, the tie stained. But the determined look in his eye promised trouble.

The beast inside my chest stirred, already scenting blood.

The dealer in front of me flipped the last queen. The damn red heart taunted me for some unknown reason. I nearly missed the tell of the construction guru, but he breathed too loud. Since there was only a seven, a three, and a jack on the flop, I guessed the tycoon had something decent.

“He’s already counting,” Sandro muttered.

I flicked a glance at the brown suit, but since that table was too far away, I trusted my brother’s arial view of the situation. But even looking at the faded brown back, the loose threads and even looser fit, I smelled the stink of desperation from here.

The turn didn’t help my already strong hand.

But the tycoon raised the stakes.

Feeling a bit reckless, I met his bet and called.

“Two pairs,” the dealer said monotonously.

I turned mine. But before I collected my winnings for the four of a kind, the quiet lady to my left turned over a straight flush.

“Well done, madame,” I intoned and gave her a smoldering grin.

Mrs. Lim, visiting Chicago with her tech-savvy husband from Singapore, gave me a courteous nod as the winnings were pushed toward her.

“He just won another hand. Time to shut him down,” Sandro menaced.

The bouncers would collect the card counter. I rose, ignoring the construction owner’s gibe that the night was just starting, and wandered to the bar.

“I’m coming up,” I murmured to Sandro.

His voice was sharp. “Not necessary. I need you on the floor.”

But the itch crawling under my skin needed release.

Blau waddled over before I could make my escape. “Mr. Baldwin, how are you this evening?”

I looked the tiny man up and down. “Really, Corwin? Already?”

The jeweler fidgeted. “The fates are against me.”

I groaned. “Go home, Blau.”

But the little idiot leaned in. “I have an emerald. Uncut. But the clarity is the best I’ve seen on the market.”

“I’m not giving you a loan,” I said dryly.

Maybe I could punch the jeweler. It wouldn’t sate the bloodlust, but it seemed like the best outlet.

Whatever he said next was lost as another voice greeted me.

“Good evening, Mr. Baldwin. How are you tonight?”

I swiveled my attention to the gentleman in a crisp tux. His brown hair and goatee were free of greys, an unusualaccomplishment for a man of his age. Before I could stop myself, I studied his features for any familial resemblance.

No, his daughter didn’t look like him.

A great mercy. She was stunning by most standards, but far more natural than her mother. It was as though she took what nature gave her and doubled it on her own.

Stop it!