“I’m part quetzal now, Falise. That’s what changed me. You might have seen that if you’d been willing to look. But I’m afraid that you are nothing more than the heartless tool that Father and Mother have shaped you into. Your only purpose here is to serve the family.”

He gestured at the pile. “So, serve it. Will you call, or fold?”

The faintest frown lined her forehead. “Let’s table this and take family business behind closed doors where it belongs. Making a scene—”

“Call or fold.”

Step eased sideways in his chair, which exposed his pistol butt to an easy reach where it hung in his belt holster.

“Derek, this isn’t funny.” Falise closed her cards, laying them face-down on the table.

“You have a bet on the table, little sister. I’ve just raised it. By laying your cards down, do I take it that you’ve folded?”

He could see the raging turmoil. As much as she wanted to believe in those three jacks, her sense of self-preservation was getting the best of her. She couldn’t help but glance at Ednund and Clarice, both of whom had turned a shade of pale and looked stricken.

“Doesn’t matter,” Step said in the most mild voice Dek had ever heard him use. “Dek, she still owes you, let’s see.” He reached out, fingering through Falise’s share of the pot. “Looks like about twenty-seven hundred after you figure in the gemstones and nuggets.”

“And a Taglioni never stiffs someone over a debt.” Dek kept his gaze locked with Falise’s “But then, I recall some of the things you have been saying about my parents. Gutter slime? Filth? Lowly trash? Not that I don’t disagree with the sentiment. I promise you, however, that one place our dear mother, Malissa, never gave birth to either you or me was in a gutter.”

“You’ve had your fun,” Falise told him with deadly intent. “I’m not playing any longer.”

“How about cutting the deck?” he asked. “High card takes all. Step, here, can shuffle.”

“Not a chance.” She stood, and back straight, marched for the door. People leapt out of the way, staring in disbelief as Falise, her servants following close behind, vanished into the night.

Dek cut out Step’s nine hundred and threw in a half-ounce platinum nugget for good measure. “Thanks. Wouldn’t have missed that for the world.”

Step leaned back in his chair, tilted his whiskey to his lips, and wondered, “Maybe you were a changeling? Switched at the hospital?”

Dek took a sip of his own whiskey. He reached over, turned her cards upright, and stared. Impossible! How the hell had he screwed that up on the deal?

Step reached out to flip Dek’s own hand over, exposing the spade flush. “Goddamn, Dek! You bluffed her! While she was holding four jacks!”