Chapter 17 · The Joker Knows My Face

“Don’t touch that card.” Eve’s hand closed around my wrist before my fingers reached the black-backed Joker.

Too late. The card had already hooked itself against my skin.

A thin cut opened beneath the edge. One drop of blood slid down my palm and vanished into the ink.

Across the table, the masked figure leaned forward. Its white grin was painted too wide. Its coat hung off a body that moved like a person wearing someone else’s bones.

“Deal,” the Joker said.

The voice sounded like a radio playing underwater.

I pulled against Eve’s grip. “Get off me.”

“You touch it, you lose something,” she snapped.

“I know how cards work.”

“No, Cole. You know how cops work. You point a gun, shout a threat, and hope the other guy blinks first.” Her fingers tightened around my wrist. “This table doesn’t blink.”

The card dragged itself another inch across my palm.

A memory flashed behind my eyes.

Mara laughing over a cracked cereal bowl.

Mara at sixteen, stealing my jacket.

Mara saying my name from the hospital bed, soft and scared—

I jerked back.

The memory cut off.

The Joker’s head tilted.

“Your sister,” it said.