Chapter 33 · The Final Hand

"Don't touch the card, Cole."

Eve's hand snapped around my wrist before my fingers reached the black Joker.

Her grip hurt. Not enough to stop me. Enough to remind me that she still could.

The Pact Deck lay open on the flooded table between us. Seven cards burned blue. One card showed the door behind her. The Joker showed nothing at all.

That was worse than blood.

"You said the Joker was our way out," I said.

"I said it might be."

"You left out the part where it eats the person who plays it."

Her jaw tightened. Rainwater ran off her hair and down the side of her face. She looked cold, soaked, and furious. I wanted to pull her closer. I wanted to put a knife between us.

Both impulses felt honest.

"The card doesn't eat you," she said. "It trades you."

"That's a cute word for dying."

"It isn't dying."

"Then what is it?"

Eve released my wrist and shoved the Joker farther across the table. "You lose the part of yourself the table demands. Memory. Years. A name. Maybe all three."

"And you knew that before you brought me here.