Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X, #1)(69)

“You just said hearts were trump,” he reminded her patiently. He was the least drunk of all of them, which might have played a role in his also being one of the least obnoxious men in the room right then.

Mae took a sip of her own drink, enjoying the heady rush it brought. She had recently returned from a trip of her own, in the Asian provinces, as backup to the EA. After some of the sights there, she was grateful for this reprieve. “He’s right, Val.”

Val looked skeptical and gave Mae a knowing look. “Of course you’d agree with him.”

Dag’s voice carried over to them again. “Fifty bucks says she can kick your ass.”

This brought cheers and chatter from those seated at the table, and suddenly, half of them were on their feet. More astonishing still, Dag was leading the entourage over to Mae’s table. He staggered to a halt and pointed directly at her.

“She’s the one. She’ll do it.”

Mae nearly looked behind her but then remembered she was sitting against a wall. Her whole table came to a standstill. “What are you talking about?”

A man pushed his way through the others and stopped beside Dag. Mae felt her breath catch. He was one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen, and she wasn’t the type who usually looked first and asked questions later. He had a physique outstanding even among pr?torians and wore a simple blue T-shirt that did an exquisite job of displaying all those well-sculpted muscles. His face was as perfectly chiseled as the rest of him, with a strong chin and high cheekbones complemented by piercing eyes that were so dark, they nearly looked black. His hair was black too, thick and wavy, pulled back into a ponytail that grazed his shoulder blades. It was the kind of hair women involuntarily ran their hands through; she felt her own twitch.

At first, the tanned skin and dark hair made her think he was plebeian, but then she noted his features were too European. There was a stamp to him that hinted of a Mediterranean caste, which was surprising. She could probably have counted the number of pr?torian castals on one hand, and like her, he possessed no obvious signs of Cain. Then again, any castal in the military would have to be in good health.

Those dark eyes looked her over in a way that suddenly made her feel as though he’d just taken off her clothes, and there was an arrogance and smugness there that confirmed his castal background nearly as much as his appearance. She was familiar with that superior attitude, having been bred with it as well. A satisfied smile curled his lips.

“Her? Sure. No problem. It’d be my pleasure.”

The cockiness snapped Mae back to attention, and she quickly hid her unwanted attraction with a well-practiced expression of indifference. She glanced at Dag, refusing to give the other guy any more of her attention. “What have you done?” she asked in as bored a voice as she could manage.

“This guy.” Dag pointed at his companion dramatically, just to make sure there was no misunderstanding. “He says he was some kind of canne prodigy back in his caste. And I was like, ‘Whatever, there’s only one castal canne prodigy around here.’”

Mae’s cool mask faltered as she jerked her gaze back to the other guy. “You play canne?”

“Other people play it, darling,” he told her, still with that damnably self-assured smile. “I live it.”

Dag moved in between Val and another Scarlet so that he could lean across the table toward Mae. “Finn, you have to take this * out. I’ve got money riding on you.”

“Me too,” a couple of people shouted beyond him.

Mae gave Dag an incredulous look. “You signed me up for something without asking me?”

“I didn’t think I had to ask,” he said. “I thought you’d want to do it. You know, as a matter of principle. And stuff.”

A Silver whom Mae knew came up and nudged the black-haired man. “Porfirio, why are you harassing her? Shouldn’t you castals stick together? And what the hell is canne anyway?”

“A sublime sport for those who are both athletes and artists,” declared Porfirio. His gaze fell back on Mae. “A charming ladies’ pastime for others.”

She could only assume it was the ree that caused what happened next. She shot to her feet. “‘Pastime’? I was nearly professional!”

Porfirio didn’t look impressed at all. “Nearly,” he repeated. “But you weren’t. What went wrong? Not good enough? Baltic boyfriend wouldn’t let you?”

Mae was too outraged to correct him. Dag was quicker. “She didn’t do it because she joined up with us, dumbass.”

“All right, all right,” said Porfirio, giving her a lazy, almost predatory smile. “There’s only one way to settle this. You and me. On the mat. Then we’ll see the difference between a profession and a pastime.”

Excitement raced through her body at the prospect, and her implant kicked to life, trying desperately to shake off the ree’s intoxication as it sensed endorphins and hormones indicative of some confrontation. “Name the time and place. I’ll be there.”

Porfirio stepped toward her. “Why wait? We’re doing this now.”

“Now?” she repeated, but her voice faded among the cheers of the assembled pr?torians. Looking up, she realized almost every pr?torian in the place had gathered around them now, and they were all riled up for a match, many of them already placing wagers on Mae and her opponent. “There’s no room.”