“I can!” I protested, looking at the others for support.
Caroline’s expression was sympathetic as she took a seat next to Anton. “Not really.”
“I used to do touristy stuff all the time.”
“Under protest and usually with threats involved. Remember that trip your family took to Niagara Falls?”
I shut my mouth, suddenly finding the green felt of the table very interesting.
“What happened at Niagara Falls?” Nathan asked.
“While the rest of the family made plans to see the falls and the river downstream, this one tried to wander off to do her own thing.” Caroline tipped her head in my direction. “Her mother had to threaten her with bodily harm and revoking her TV privileges for a month to get her to cooperate.”
Feeling sulky, I sank down into a chair. “I’m not a fan of crowds.”
“How do you know about this?” Anton asked.
An emotion flitted across Caroline’s face before it was concealed.
“Let’s just say I was a frequent tag-a-long on the Travers family vacations.” Caroline eyed me. “And it’s not just crowds. You hate doing anything people say you should be doing.”
“I don’t like being told what to do.”
That applied to the “popular” things to see or do on vacation.
“No one would ever dispute that,” Nathan drawled.
I stuck my tongue out at him. Not the most mature response, I know.
Anton lifted a hand, gesturing the dealer over. “You’re not getting out of this that easy. We’re here to play and play we shall.”
The dealer that approached was dressed differently than those I could see at other nearby tables, all of whom wore dark slacks and a brightly colored vest. This man’s fashion was more flamboyant. With a maroon coat that reached mid-thigh and bronze buttons on the front. His hair was strawberry blond and brushed back from his face, exposing pointed ears that indicated he had Fae in his bloodline somewhere.
I doubted he was full Fae though on account of the beard of the same color shadowing his jawline.
He also lacked their smug arrogance. His blue green eyes twinkled with a mischievous light.
He folded at the waist in a small bow. “My name is Dylan. At your service. May I know what game the sir would like to start with?”
“Let me think.” Anton tapped his chin before smirking. “A couple rounds of blackjack to break the ice. That should be easy enough.”
“Very good. And the tinder for the bet?”
Anton tapped the table next to a stack of chips. “We’ll stick with cash for now.”
“Understood. As always, you can change the method of payment at any time.”
I didn’t know if I liked the sound of that. Folklore told of many stories about humans who’d made wagers, not knowing the true price. Only to wind up selling their soul or first born.
Noticing my hesitance, Anton shot me a sharp toothed smile. “Worried, Aileen? You’re not going to back out now, are you?”
“What is this? Peer pressure Aileen day? Bring it on, Anton. I can take anything you dish out.”
Nathan’s soft snicker had me questioning my bravado.
But as sinister as these assholes were acting, I doubted either one of them would lead me too far astray. If only to avoid Liam’s displeasure.
I might come out the worse in this exchange—quite probable, in fact—but I doubt they’d do anything to cause permanent damage. It was more likely I’d simply learn another lesson about the perils of hanging around Anton and Nathan.
