CHAPTER THIRTY
vol ii — home turf

DINARA HAD FOUND herself seated in the lap of a man who's manners were nonexistent in a private room of the Lid's most luxurious gambling dens. She had agreed almost immediately to the scheme Kaz had put out in front of her, willing to do anything to get her sister back alive. Wylan was leaning against the wall, a small pout playing at his lips as he was upset about playing waiter. The man across from her lifted his hand, signaling to Wylan that he needed her flute refilled, the small boy running over to do so. Her eyes flickered over to Jesper, who was seated at the table also, his back hunched over, eyes scanning the cards that he held in his hand. Dinara's ass hurt, sitting in the bony thighs of the man who's hands were caressing her skin for over two hours, trying not to smirk as she caught Kaz sending a glare to him every so often.

She liked the power she was holding in this position — Kaz getting riled up and not being able to do anything, while Dinara sunk back into the man's hold, teasing the boy. She was growing bored, no action happening to keep her entertained, her plump lips sometimes whispering words of encouragement to the man she was seated on, wanting him to make sure that he was happy with her. He had ordered copious amounts of oysters ( a food Dinara hated ) and told her to eat as much as she could. She did with a sweet smile, imagining nothing more than slitting his throat with the knife that laid in her bra. The chocolate eyes of Dinara trailed over the bare fingers of Kaz, watching as he sealed out card after card, memorized with the way they moved, the way the could move so flawlessly. The sheer lavender gown that was covering Dinara's body moved with every muscle twitch.

She tried hard to move it down without being noticed, not wanting everything she had to be on display with all the hungry men in sight. The corset was tied tighter than it should have been, crushing her ribs and pushing her cleavage up, making Kaz allow his eyes to wander over every few seconds to admire them. Jesper had folded again, a huff of annoyance escaping his lips. Dinara knew that luck wasn't on his side tonight, making her wonder if she was going to have to step up her game to keep Smeet in the Lid longer. She knew that there was a line of men on the walls, waiting for the moment someone got up from the table, wanting to take their seat and catch a good look at the pretty women on the man's lap, wondering what they could do to take her home for the night.

When Wylan reached down to refill her glass, Smeet leaned in, his warm breath on the skin of Dinara's neck. "A card game is like a duel. It's the little cuts and slashes that set the stage for the final killing stroke," he said as he took a quick glance at Jesper. "That lad is bleeding all over the table."

Dinara forced a giggle, trying to seem like she found the man funny. "I don't know how you keep the rules straight in your head."

"This is nothing compared to managing a business," Smeet said. Dinara could tell that he was gloating, happy that she knew what he did, it gave him power in a way,

"I can't imagine how you do that either," she said, twirling a piece of her dark hair around her finger, batting her eyelashes seductively.

"Sometimes I don't know myself," he said with a sigh, turning his head to send a quick wink to her. "It's been a hard week. One of my clerks never came back from his holiday, and that meant I was stuck shorthanded." Wylan nearly dropped the bottle he was holding, champagne falling over the top and onto the ground. "I'm paying to drink it, not wear it boy."

Dinara made eyecontact with Wylan, a sweet smile on her lips before she looked down at Smeet, her fingers running through his hair. "Poor baby."

When Jesper leaned back in his seat, fingers tapping against the handles of his revolvers, Smeet's eyes followed his moment. He caught the shiny guns, a sickening grin splitting over his lips. "Those guns are remarkable. Real mother-of-pearl in the handles, if I'm not mistaken. I have a fine collection of firearms myself, thought nothing in the line of Zemeni repeating revolvers."

Dinara's eyes went wide for a moment before cooing at the man, trying to get his mind of the image of Jesper's guns in his own hands. "Oh, I'd love to see your guns. Are we going to be here all night?"

At those words, Smeet's face took on a greedy look, his eyes raking over her figure. "Hush now. If I win big, I may buy you something pretty."

"I'll settle for some more oysters."
"You haven't finished those."

"Delicious." Her nose wrinkled with disgust as she placed an oyster in her mouth, shuddering as it went down her throat. Dinara liked the occasional oyster, but eating a dozen of them in a row seemed ridiculous. "Let's have some more." That statement was the signal, Wylan swooping in and taking the big tray.

"The lady had a craving."
"Oysters, miss? Buttered prawns?"
"She'll have both. And another flute of champagne."
"Marvelous."

Dinara turned slightly green when Wylan turned and headed towards the kitchen. She watched as Smeet and Jesper continued to play the card game, murmuring sweet nothing into Smeet's ear every now and then. She looked up, catching the movement of Kaz, who was 'dusting off his hands' — a gesture used to signal the end of a shift. Specht sat down, taking the seat Kaz had one occupied, a blue silk cravat tied at his throat, covering the copious amount of tattoos that covered his neck. They had made sure to cover anything that could make them noticeable, not wanting to draw the attention of the standwatch, who would haul their asses to jail in a second.

Dinara had a stressed moment, watching as Smeet stretched and gave her butt a firm pat. "We've had a good run," he said, looking at Jesper, who was pouting at a pile at coins in the middle of the table. "We may find fitter game elsewhere."

Dinara sent the man a pout, her eyelashes caressing her soft, pale, skin, looking at him with brown doe eyes. "But my food just came."

Wylan stepped foreword, trying to make Smeet stay, so they wouldn't have to try this again. "I'd everything to your liking, sir? Can I offer you and the lady something more?"

Smeet decided to act like he couldn't hear him, his eyes traveling from the cleavage Dinara was showing and her eyes. "There's finer bottles and better service to be had all over the Lid, my dear."

A man in a striped suit came over, approaching Smeet, a devious grin playing on his lips. "Cashing out?"

"Looks like we both are, eh, lad?" Smeet asked, giving Jesper a nod. "Better luck next time."

"I'm not done here."
"Certainly looks like you are."

Jesper say up, reaching for the guns he kept at his hips. They were his babies and Dinara didn't know how to react when she saw him reach for the straps keeping them in place, pushing it back. His slender fingers reached around the handle, pulling them out and placing them on the table, his fingers never moving from them. "How much for these?"

"The Cumulus isn't a pawnshop. We accept cash and credit from the Gemensbank only," Specht said, clearing his throat.

Smeet stared at Jesper with disinterest. "I'll stand you, if it will get the game moving again. One thousand kruge for the guns?"

"They're worth ten times that."
"Five thousand kruge."
"Seven."
"Six, and that only because I'm feeling nice."
"Don't!"
"I don't remember asking for your advice."

"The insolence. Since when do waiters involve themselves in game play?" Smeet asked, a sneer across his face as he eyed Wylan.

Dinara glared at Wylan, making the boy shudder, knowing that she was mad at him and it wasn't a good thing. "Gentlemen, shall we get this game rolling again? Ante up!"

Dinara winced when Jesper shoved his revolvers across the table to Smeet, who slid a stack of chips in return. "All right, deal me in."

oh jesper you idiot