Ace of Shades (The Shadow Game #1)(96)

He let out a sigh that he’d been holding in for months now and leaned back into his chair. Levi had never been inside Luckluster Casino, and the Torrens couldn’t have decorated it in any way more opposite to St. Morse’s royal grandeur. Everything was red and black: the furnishings, the lights, the attire. But despite being one of the city’s two richest casinos, inside, it looked more like a cheap nightclub. The ambience and color scheme was probably meant to appear fiendishly luxe, but even to Levi—who was certainly no prude—everything about the casino seemed vulgar. Fishnets, cherry lips, black lace, scarlet nails. Satin bedsheet curtains; glow-in-the-dark artwork of lips and curves; dancers lounging in windows above the main gambling floor, their long legs and stiletto heels dangling from the bannisters.

He could finally relax, but the combination of the hypersexualized environment and the nagging discomfort of his glass contacts kept him on edge. Maybe the lenses hurt because he’d used volt glass. Certain objects in the room glowed with an unnatural shade of blue, like some of the other players’ drinks and a few of the women’s faces, probably from a chemical in their makeup. Looking straight into the fluorescent lights was blinding. He was getting a headache from it all.

But two and a half thousand volts. Yeah, the peepers had been worth it.

The dealer asked if they’d play again. What Levi needed to do was remove the contact lenses, hand over his ten thousand volts to Sedric and leave. But with his winning streak, it would’ve been a shame to end now. Levi hadn’t earned this much in a single night in a long time.

The dealer handed out cards to Levi and the four other players. Three tens of diamonds. What were the chances?

This was his night.

After a few rounds, it was down to Levi and the man on his left. Levi, however, wasn’t paying much attention, as his mind was already drifting to what he’d do after he paid Sedric, after he reclaimed his title and his reputation. For once, the future he wanted felt within his grasp.

Round after round, his opponent bet aggressively. Levi examined the man’s cards. Definitely two jacks of hearts—Levi had written JH on the backs in a previous round, which glowed blue through his lenses. He didn’t know what the other two cards were, but Levi was certain his three-of-a-kind Tropp was better.

Levi tossed a second thousand-volt chip into the pot.

The dealer nodded at them to reveal their cards. Levi showed his first, eager to admire the fury on the man’s face.

Then the man showed his cards. Four jacks of clubs.

Levi cursed and threw his cards into the center of the table. So he was two thousand down. No need to panic yet. He’d leave Luckluster once he made them back.

The next few rounds, he continuously received mediocre hands. The peepers couldn’t help him get the right cards, and the risk wasn’t worth the bluff. He lost only three hundred volts.

He waited until he’d finally been dealt a good hand, then he went all in. By the time they reached the seventh round of the game, Levi had collected a royal flush, a nearly unbeatable Tropp.

Levi confidently tossed a silver three thousand–volt chip in the pot. One of the players who’d already folded whistled.

By this point, the discomfort of the lenses had developed into a pounding headache that pulsed behind his eyebrows. As soon as he won this game, he desperately needed to take the peepers out and drink a cold glass of water.

The dealer cleared his throat, distracting Levi from the throbbing in his skull. “Your cards, sir.” Levi coughed awkwardly and gathered his hand.

They each showed their cards. His opponent had three jacks of hearts and two kings of diamonds. Levi hadn’t seen the kings. Between those two small Tropps, he was done.

Just like that, his pile was empty. Five and a half thousand volts. Gone. Just like that.

Muck muck muck, he thought. Why didn’t I get out when I was on top?

With very little left to bet, Levi stood. He trembled as the reality of what had happened dawned on him. He’d had the volts to pay back Sedric. He’d had his way out of this scam Vianca started. And he’d ruined it.

He could still pay Sedric a portion of what he owed. Ask for an extension. But Sedric didn’t have a reputation as a merciful man. It would be all or nothing.

The Fool laughed at him in the corner of his vision. Wherever Levi looked, the Fool stared back.

Levi spotted one of Sedric’s cousins, the easily recognizable and widely feared Charles Torren, watching him hungrily from a nearby bar. Levi pushed his way out of the gambling room and away from Charles’s ominous, knowing stare.

The bathroom was thankfully empty. Levi bent over the counter and stared at his bloodshot eyes, his dark brown irises tinted a shade bluer from the dye. Not his best look. He took out the contacts and stuffed them in his pocket. His heart was pounding, and he tried to steady his breathing, but it was nearly impossible—due both to the anxiety tightening in his chest and the throbbing of his headache.

He’d think of a new plan. Run back to St. Morse and wake up Jac, who was probably still sleeping on his couch. They’d hide. Maybe try the smaller casinos. Peepers...what had he been thinking? He played better when he wasn’t marking cards—he didn’t make reckless assumptions.

Levi left the bathroom and returned to the lobby, locking his sight on the exit.

He almost stumbled as he came face-to-face with Sedric Torren. The neon red and black lights cast3 harsh shadows over the angles of his face as he loomed over Levi. Sedric loosened his necktie, as if preparing for a meal.