Finley was directly across from me. I shared a quick, genuine smile. The way he was staring had me readjusting, feeling a tad bashful suddenly.
It was just a drinking game, right? So why did everyone look like a show was about to start?
My stomach did a few flips.
Lochlainn grabbed a small green draw-string bag from the bartender, opened it, then reached a hand inside.
“Let the game, begin!” he announced, pulling out a small golden die. He flicked his wrist and the golden cube flew out of hishand and into the air, exploding like a firecracker a few feet above our heads.
The patrons around us went wild, cheering.
Gold, sizzling electric energy charged the room. Glittering light-yellow powder fluttered down, coating us. It was mesmerizing and magical.
I wasn’t sure what the color meant. Maybe lighter colors would be less severe?
“The Fated Roll!” The bartender called out, placing a large white die on the bar top. “Roll one through three, you make a speech. Four through six, your tab is covered for the night!”
Lochlainn took the die, smugly rolling it on the stone.
“Two!” The bartender called, wickedly grinning. “Seems you owe us a speech!”
Lochlainn didn’t hesitate as he stepped onto a barstool and climbed onto the countertop. He threw back the shot that magically appeared, exuding confidence and charm the whole time.
Why did he look so goddamn happy with himself? My piss-poor public speaking skills would’ve had me shitting myself right about now.
The music stopped. Chatter died down. Neon lights flickered distantly on the dance floor, but eyes were glued in our direction . . . on Lochlainn.
He extended his arms as if embracing the expectant faces of the crowd.
“Luckland!” he roared like a king on a dais.
A rumble of cheer and stomping vibrated the floor.
I looked around incredulously. It was like watching the jock in high school get praised for doing a hair-flip. What in the world was happening?
My eyes briefly met Aine’s as she eye-rolled into anotherdimension.
He raised a hand up, calming the crowd. They quieted at his gesture.
“What an incredible, and incrediblydangerouscity we live in!” He flashed a devilish grin.
People around bellowed in laughter while others burst out in prideful hollering.
“A city of gamblers! Of thieves! Of tricksters! Those willing to cheat, to stab, to roll the dice and risk it all!” He held a fist to the heavens, pumping it. “And yet,weare the lucky ones!”
Wild energy poured in as people’s elated calls carried.
I leaned toward Breena and Aine, whispering, “Is this normal?”
Breena laughed, seeing the absolute horror on my face.
“Not a fan of the guy, but he sure knows how to work a crowd!” she mused. “You could say we are proud of our wicked chancer ways.”
Aine snorted, shaking her head. “Please. Easy to do when the majority of the crowd has the intelligence level of a rock and the emotional stability of toddlers. Dangle anything remotely shiny and they’ll start to follow it.”
I snickered at the thought, peering around. Keeffe and Finley were looking up at Lochlainn, faces drawn in tight, like they knew his words were laced in something more consequential.
“We are the people who know how to survive! Even when the odds are stacked against us—when it’s last call and we’re down on our luck. We find a way to take what we want, what we need—to survive! Because we don’t play fair. No. We never have, never will!”
