Chapter 20 · The Voice in the Deck

"Don't touch the deck." Eve's hand closed around Cole's wrist before his fingers reached the black case.

The cards were spread across the iron table, face down and trembling. A thin red line crawled between them like a vein under skin.

Cole tried to pull free. Eve twisted his wrist harder.

"You dragged me into a room with a cursed deck and now you're giving orders?" he snapped.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm doing."

"Let go."

"No."

Her grip was warm. Too warm. Her thumb pressed against his pulse, counting each hard beat while the deck clicked against the table.

Cole hated that she noticed everything. Hated more that he noticed her this close—the sharp scent of smoke on her coat, the loose strand of dark hair against her cheek, the way her eyes kept dropping to the silver contract mark burned into his wrist.

"If you open it wrong," Eve said, "the deck won't take a memory. It will take the hand holding it. Then the arm. Then whatever it needs to finish the bargain."

"You said the deck could answer me."

"I said it might answer you. I did not say you would survive the conversation.