The Serpent

by Sarah Fine

  “I don’t think you’re stupid, Gabe,” she said quietly. She touched his face. “I think you’re just a really good guy.”

  He snorted. “Tell that to the Forger, will you?”

  “Was he actually mad that you didn’t destroy one of his Dealers?”

  “He was rather offended that I hadn’t used his favor to complete my intended purpose. And I hadn’t used a Mark—the favor wasn’t free. He decided to punish me.”

  “He not only took back the extra card—he took one from your deck.”

  “He said I could earn it back if I could manage to do what I’d promised.”

  “Is that why you’re so determined to defeat Duncan? You want your card back?”

  “I don’t care anymore if I die, if he beats me. It barely matters. My ma and sister are well over a century dead, just like my wife and my child. Killing Duncan won’t change any of that, but stopping him now . . . that’s the wrong I need to right. I gave him an extra fifty years of killing and maiming, and I feel the weight of every death. Because I was weak—because I am weak.”

  The other Dealers had said it, too, that Gabe was weak. Because he cared, because he wasn’t just going to let his brother slaughter Ernie. She took Gabe’s face in her hands. Their eyes met. “Whatever you are, it’s not weak. And whatever that is, I’m so thankful for it that I can barely breathe right now.”

  She closed the distance between them and kissed him, just a momentary taste of his lips, but enough to make her heart skip. She opened her eyes to see his closed, his brow furrowed, and shame made her cheeks hot as a woodstove. “Sorry,” she said, letting her hands start to slide from his face.

  He caught them, holding her by the wrists, her hands framing his jaw.

  “I was just thinking it could very well be my last night on earth,” she said breezily, trying to tug her hands from his grip. “I mean, you can’t blame me, right? And seeing as you’re the only guy around . . .” Humor was the only shield she had at the moment.

  “Shh.” His nostrils flared as he took in a breath. She was so close to him. Their foreheads were touching. “You joke too much.”

  “I know.” Her palms were pressed to his cheeks, where the stubble was getting bristly. His shirtless chest was so close that she wanted to lean in, to explore.

  “But this is serious.”

  “It is?”

  No sooner had she said it than his mouth was on hers, hungry and forceful. Ernie couldn’t breathe, but in the best way. He was everywhere, dragging her into his lap, moving her legs to straddle his hips, his fingers in her hair, keeping her close, his hand clamped over her thigh. She ran her hands over his chest. Need was winding tighter inside her with every stroke of his tongue along hers, with every brush of her fingers on his skin, with the feel of his muscles and his own taut desire. She’d never felt this sort of abandon, this not caring about what came after as long as she had this now. She’d never been as caught up in a moment, in a man, laid open and knowing that he could hurt her if he wanted but that it was worth the risk. He was worth the risk.

  She wondered whether she was falling in love. Was this what it was? Being so full of admiration and fear and desire that it felt like it might shatter you? It wasn’t just his body, his roughly handsome face. It was his soul, his mercy, his need to see the best in people, to shield the vulnerable even if it hurt him. She knew him now. She didn’t want to let him go.

  He groaned and lay back, bringing her with him, letting her hair fall around them as their kiss became fierce. His face scraped her skin. His hands fell to her hips. She whimpered as he pushed up against her, letting her feel him. Then he turned her over. She opened her eyes to see him framed in firelight. He kissed her softly before raising his head. “I need to stop this now, love,” he murmured.

  Shame and hurt sliced through her. “Why? If you’re worried I’m going to want something from you later—”

  He put his hand over her mouth and shook his head. “No.” He removed his hand and looked down at her mouth. “I’m afraid I’d want something from you.”

  He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, leaving Ernie lying on her back, staring up at the rough planks above her, feeling cold and too light without his weight. Then, just as quickly, he was on her again, kissing her neck, her jaw, her forehead, then gathering her into his arms. “Listen to me—you’d better survive this fight, Ernestine Terwilliger. You’d better deal and win. Because if you don’t . . .”

  He gave her one last kiss, hard and quick, then stood up. “I’ll be outside. We have to get back. You disoriented them back at Duncan’s, but they’ve all had time to pull themselves back together. Come out when you’re ready to go.”

  Ernie blinked and straightened her shirt as he yanked his own on and stalked outside. She didn’t know what to make of what had just happened. Unpacking his words, his body language, her own crazy thoughts, all of it would take more time than either of them had. He’d been right to call a halt to it, to stay focused on what came next. He’d been right, but it still stung.

  She stood up and hissed at the wave of pain, the flutter of her heart—it wasn’t a good, romantic flutter. It was the kind of flutter that whispered the possibility of heart failure. She’d joked about it being her last night on earth, but Gabe had been right. It was serious.

  She thought of the Forger’s blank card, the one she’d hidden in her dream haven. She’d have to go get it. If she was going to go down, she’d go down fighting, and that meant she needed every weapon at her disposal. Speaking of—“Gabe?” she asked as she walked outside to see him with his face turned up to the sun. “Where did you put the Forger’s Marks?”

  “Somewhere no one will ever find them,” he said grimly.

  “The enemy Dealers wanted those Marks pretty badly. And one of them said something about taking a shot at the moon. Duncan is definitely after the Forger. Are there other Marks out there in the world somewhere that they could get ahold of?”

  Gabe shook his head. “There were only five known Marks to begin with, and three of them have been used. That’s why everyone wants these so badly. But they’d have to take my cards and my will to find them, and I won’t let that happen. Duncan was doing his best to get them from me before you came to my rescue.” He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss over the back of it. “He probably realizes I’ve had the Marks all along, though, and now he knows I’ll never tell him where.”

  Which made Gabe as much of a target as Ernie. And if Duncan got the Marks from Gabe, the world would burn. A now-familiar heaviness settled in Ernie’s chest. This was on her. If she wasn’t strong enough to keep Legs, to deal the full deck, more people—countless people—would suffer. She put her hand in her pocket and ran her thumb over her cards, smiling shyly as she felt a little pop of warmth against her skin. If Legs hadn’t given up, neither would she. “I’m ready.”

  Gabe took her hand and pulled her against him. For a second, she thought he might kiss her again, and she held her breath. Instead, he closed his eyes and held her tight, transporting them into the abyss. Being in his arms was the comfort she needed in that moment, and she drew strength and hope from the way he bowed his head over hers, the way he kissed the top of her head out there in the middle of the darkness.

  But the moment they appeared outside her mother’s shop, Ernie realized something had gone seriously sideways.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The allied Dealers were all standing in the gravel clearing between the carport and the house, and they had Alvarez surrounded. He held the emperor tamarin in his arms, and it was screeching at the others, its little teeth bared. Alvarez’s face was almost gray, and his cane was broken and lying at his feet.

  His cards were scattered in the dirt, glowing frantically. The look on his face was terrible, a snarl that seemed fixed in place. Frozen.

  The other Dealers were positioned around him, their decks drawn. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Gabe said. “What happened?”

  “He�
�s allied with the Diamondback,” Virginia said shrilly. “I found these in the pocket of his jacket!” She held up a handful of the barrier rune tiles Ernie’s mother had placed around the house to keep the Dealers out. “One for each of us, except . . .” Virginia turned to Gabe with narrowed eyes. “For yours.” Her gaze lasered to Ernie’s. “And yours.”

  “What’s your game, Gabe?” asked Minh, looking unhappy. He was shuffling his cards from hand to hand, and for a moment Ernie was hypnotized by the high, impossible arc of them, back and forth, back and forth. “Were you lying when you said you didn’t invite Alvarez to the game?”

  “No, but I know why he’d want to be here,” Gabe snapped. “I might be happier across a battlefield from some of you than on the same side, but it doesn’t matter now.”

  “Because you needed help finishing what you started,” said Virginia, still eyeing Gabe with suspicion. “But maybe you hoped to finish off a few of us as well.”

  Now Tarlae was giving Gabe the stink eye. “If a Dealer doesn’t have a full deck, gathering others together would be a good way to steal a few cards without anyone knowing who to blame.”

  Trey must have told Tarlae that Gabe was missing a card. “Gabe wouldn’t do that,” Ernie barked.

  He reached down and squeezed Ernie’s hand. “Of course I wouldn’t.”

  “Then why am I missing a Wild?” asked Virginia. “Why is Tarlae missing her Shelter card?”

  “And I’m missing Healing,” said Minh. “I had it until you were rescued.”

  “Think about that,” said Gabe. “I was with you for all of a few minutes.”

  “Maybe the mother is helping him,” spat Virginia. “She looked sneaky.”

  “She has nothing to do with this,” Ernie shouted.

  “She had the Marks!” said Tarlae. “Why?”

  “Because Ernie’s daddy is the Dragonfly.”

  Ernie blinked. It wasn’t Minh who had said it—it was Virginia. Her pale, wrinkled face was contorted into an ugly scowl. “And he was a filthy, double-crossing thief. His daughter probably takes after him.”

  Ernie held up her hands, her skinny deck in her left. Gabe took a half step in front of her, but Ernie moved to the side. He couldn’t shield her from this, and she didn’t want him to. “Okay, so, first of all, screw you for suggesting I’m a thief with zero evidence. That’s just sad. Second, you still haven’t explained what’s going on with Alvarez. Are you going to let him speak in his own defense?” She had no idea what they’d done to him, but his eyes were shouting while not a sound was coming from his mouth.

  “I’m tired of hearing his negativity,” said Virginia, flipping two of her cards into the air. Alvarez let out a strangled noise, and his skin turned a mottled red.

  Gabe slashed two cards of his own toward Alvarez, and the man exhaled a rushed breath, coughing and cradling the monkey to his chest. Its tiny hands were balled into the fabric of his waistcoat, and its teeth were bared, but it had stopped screeching. “Alvarez,” said Gabe. “What the hell? What did you plan to do with the barrier runes?”

  “We all take advantages where we can get them,” the older man said, panting, nodding toward the tiles in Virginia’s hand. “They make an excellent shield, and I don’t trust any of you.”

  “Except Gabe?” asked Tarlae. Trey, who was at her side, was uncharacteristically quiet. Ernie wondered whether his trust in his alliance with Gabe was slipping.

  “I have the Kestrel tile,” Ernie said. “I removed it from the rest so Gabe could get through the barrier my mom set up.” She’d put it in her purse along with the Marks. “So that’s why it wasn’t with the rest.”

  “I had no plan to hurt any of you,” said Alvarez. “Those tiles are to repel. They’re defensive.”

  “Duncan is the best defensive Dealer I’ve ever seen,” said Minh. He looked tired and pissed. “The tiles would be a great way to keep us at bay during an attack. And it makes sense that Duncan would try to get a mole on the inside to weaken us, to find out where the Marks are, and to isolate Ernie.”

  “I am not helping Duncan!” shouted Alvarez. He took a step forward but froze again as the other Dealers pulled various cards. He gritted his teeth. “That bastard killed my lover. He did it to hurt me, to gain an advantage during the Spanish Revolution. And it worked. No matter what he offered me, I would never help him.”

  Virginia scoffed. “I’ve seen you with a new lover every decade, monkey man. Hard to believe one dead pretty boy would dent your black old heart.”

  Alvarez glared at her.

  “Search his deck,” said Ernie. “If you really think he stole the cards from Virginia and Tarlae, search it.” She gestured to the cards scattered on the ground.

  “We were about to when you two arrived,” said Trey. He flipped a single card, and Alvarez’s entire deck landed in Trey’s upturned palm. He spread them out as only a skilled Dealer could, scanning quickly while Alvarez watched with the look of a starving man. Trey frowned and raised his head. “He’s got a full deck. No extras.”

  “Because he gave them to Gabe,” said Virginia. “Gabe was missing a Wild, and—”

  “How did you know that?” asked Gabe as everyone’s gaze landed on him. “How could you know that?”

  Virginia’s lips pressed together in apparent annoyance. “I pay attention, Tweety Bird. I have to, because someone here is going to get all of us killed, and the only one who has a habit of disappearing during key moments is that monkey over there.” She pointed to Alvarez, who was still staring at his cards in Trey’s hands. He looked like a wire about to snap.

  “But Tarlae told me you’d fed him false information to keep him out of fights,” Ernie blurted out. “How can you expect him to show up if you don’t tell him where you’ll be?”

  Virginia rolled her eyes. “Who cares? I say we split his deck and be done with it.”

  “No,” roared Alvarez. “You have no proof at all!”

  Virginia arched an eyebrow and held up the tiles.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before that you knew my father, Virginia?” asked Ernie. She’d taken a step toward the old woman, with her deck held between her palms. “And what do you have against him?”

  “Ernie, I don’t think now is the time to—” Gabe began, but he paused when Ernie held up a finger.

  “Obviously I didn’t want to bring up bad memories for you,” said Virginia. “It’s not polite to criticize a person’s unfortunate parentage. Not your fault.” She wasn’t meeting Ernie’s eyes.

  “But you just did,” said Ernie. “You obviously had some issue with him.” She watched the older woman carefully, thinking about all the things Virginia had said, all the subtle ways she’d tried to tear the team apart since they’d gathered here. In the duel in the forest, she’d almost completely neutralized Trey. She’d also been the one most keen to hear the other Dealers share their own weaknesses. And she had been the only one who had urged Ernie to take that dangerous relic to Duncan but had looked shocked—maybe even disappointed?—when Ernie had returned victorious. “Come on, Cluckface. Give us the real reason.”

  At the word “Cluckface,” Virginia rounded on her. “How dare you!”

  “Reel it in, lady. Seeing as you love calling other people names, I figured you’d enjoy getting a nickname of your own.”

  Trey was leaning against Tarlae, laughing so hard that tears squeezed from his eyes. “Cluckface,” he said, gasping. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Tarlae seemed to be fighting a smile. Minh, on the other hand, wasn’t smiling at all. “What are you getting at, Ernie?”

  “Virginia claims to have something against Duncan, but unlike most of you, her reason isn’t personal. She’s just mad because her Nazi pals got turned to Popsicles when they were dumb enough to invade Russia in winter.” She gave Virginia the side-eye. “Really stupid play, by the way.”

  Virginia’s lip curled. “You’re trying to distract everyone. Maybe you’re not just a multiuse tool Gabe i
s using to scratch his itches and get ahead. Maybe you and Gabe and Alvarez are all in this together. She’s here to destroy all of us!” She looked around at the others. “I say we take her deck! It’s the fastest way to destroy the Diamondback!”

  “Nazi says what?” Ernie pressed her cards, warm and pulsing, against her thigh. “What did Duncan offer you to help him? A Mark?”

  Virginia fluffed her white hair. “Listen to the baby snake. More of a prattler than a rattler, I would say.”

  No one laughed.

  Virginia looked around. Then she gave Ernie a ghost of a smile. “The Marks were mine to begin with,” she said quietly. “Your father stole them from me. But he got his in the end. I made sure he’d never get in my way again.”

  “Did you kill him?” Ernie’s entire being was clenched.

  “Worse,” she whispered.

  Ernie stared at the old woman—who had looked harmless, who had seemed loopy and lame—realizing that she’d been plotting against all of them the whole time. “What do you want the Marks for?”

  Virginia glanced around, taking in each Dealer. “A shot at the moon,” she murmured. Then she moved so quickly that Ernie didn’t understand what had happened until Minh let out a choked noise and fell to his knees, clutching his middle. Blood seeped out from between his fingers. Bao jumped off his arm, and he was bleeding, too, squealing and running aimlessly, forcing Trey and Tarlae to jump out of the way to avoid getting trampled by the disoriented pig.

  Gabe and Ernie both drew cards—hers was Capture, ropes flying outward—but as they played them, Virginia threw up a shield, and Gabe ended up wrapped in the deflected bonds, in the path of the oncoming pig. Ernie could hear Virginia cackling as Ernie threw herself onto Bao, desperately trying to stop the poor animal from hurting any of the Dealers. If Bao had been at full strength, he probably would have taken Ernie for a ride—he was short, yet he probably weighed twice what she did—but the pig just collapsed to the ground, bleeding from his snuffling nose, letting out pained grunts. Ernie played her Mercy and Aid cards, trying to ease his suffering. Her attention was ripped away from the injured animal by Alvarez’s scream.