“My buy-in,” I said, handing over what I brought. I was looking forward to tonight far too much. The race last night had shaken me. I’d never lost in my life and now a man was wandering this city capable of sucking the luck right out of me. Well, in a way. Not literally suck it out. I wondered how it felt to kiss a mouth with scars at the corners. I wondered how terrifying it would be to have him towering over me on the gravel last night and instead of walking away, got on his knees, held me down, and…and what?

What the hell was I thinking about? This was a new low even for me. Dullahan? Even I was growing ashamed of my taste in men at this point. I looked over at Viktor as he observed the dagger I’d brought. It was all gold, the hilt inlaid with emeralds, the design intricate filigree. His fingers followed the designs and a smile pulled at his lips.

It was demon made and cursed—said to cause any owner an untimely, gruesome death. Perhaps it was a bit cruel to be offering it up as a prize for someone. However, I didn’t intend on losing it. It would be mean of me to allow someone to win that blade but there was zero chance of that happening. In my hands it was harmless, in anyone else’s it would be a death sentence.

Viktor hissed as he twisted the blade to the side and accidentally nicked himself. Enough blood welled up to slip to his wrist and dirty his shirt cuff. A fantastic display of the cursed sword's power.

“Better be careful with that,” I said with a chuckle. I had a special interest in cursed and unlucky items. I treated them as a test of my luck. I liked using this one to cut apple slices while drunk. Hadn’t cut myself once.

“Will that do?” I asked. He shoved the blade in the scabbard and grabbed his handkerchief, pressing it to the still bleeding wound as he shoved the dagger under his arm.

“Of course,” he said smoothly, treating me to another smile. I looked into his sunglasses, wanting to see his golden eyes.

Viktor might be dangerous but it meant little to a person who could tempt fate daily and come out of it without a blemish. I had a stalker—so what? Unless it was Dullahan, I was golden.

Viktor finally got the bleeding to stop and shoved the bloody handkerchief in his breast pocket. It made him look like a mafia man, uncaring there was a display of gore in his otherwise refined outfit. His fingers spread out wide on the small of my back as we began to walk.

“Right now is cocktail hour. The gambling won’t begin for another couple of hours,” he explained. I wanted to get to gambling badly. I felt twitchy and over eager. Last night’s nightmare race hadn’t helped my Greed at all. Having lost, I’d been forced to pay up. I’d been flabbergasted. Hell, the wolves had been flabbergasted. We were all fucking flabbergasted. Except for Dullahan of course, who had ridden off without even collecting his winnings. They gave it to the runner-up instead.