Page 112 of Tempest

But Kane only folded his cards together, eyeing her over the flaring embers of his cigar.

Garedo and the others looked on in stunned silence, waiting for their captain to react and dictate which way the wind blew for them.

“You knew Garedo held it,” Kane murmured, his face torn between shock and amusement. He pointed at her with the cigar, stabbing the air. “You waited for him to give it to me.”

Shaking his head, Garedo stared at his cards. A deep flush spread over his brown cheeks.

“Like I said, mind reader, sir,” he grumbled under his breath.

Kane did not reply.

“You’re out of this round, Captain,” Cat said serenely, reaching for the cards still tight in his hand.

He did not relent, making her pull them from his grasp. Her fingers grazed his, her nails raking over rough knuckles. She expected to shudder at his touch. There was no telling where the dirty hands of a pirate had been. But she felt only the warmth of him, and not the cloying, humid kind she had come to know in the Lyrian Sea. He felt like fire in a hearth, welcoming and bright. The kind to keep out a chill, to make you feel safe.

Cat knew he was anything but. They were the foolish thoughts of a foolish woman, already mad after a few hours of imprisonment. Valerian Kane was a pirate captain and her captor, holding her for ransom. No matter what his hand felt like.

She withdrew quickly, shuffling the cards of Kane’s hand with the rest of the discard pile, to be redistributed with the damning X, buried once more.

It did not take long for Cat to sniff the card out again, dispatching Brimley with ease before Garedo landed square in her sights.

“Mr. Garedo—” Cat began, only to have him frown and slap his cards down.

“Yes, I know!” he said wearily, shoving back from the table to throw up his hands. His pile of winnings was depleted, dumped into a central pot that now belonged to Cat.

Her thoughts were not on the spoils. At least, not the kind measured in coin and trinkets.

Kane’s cigar flamed out, reduced to a stub of paper and burned tobacco. He squashed it on the heel of his boot before tossing it over the gunwales, to disappear into the blackness of the sea.

“Well, ask your question,” he said finally, facing Cat. One tawny eyebrow arched in challenge, as if they were opponents in a duel.

Cat thought of the map laid out in her commandeered cabin, and the words Brimley let slip not an hour ago.

“What is Drowning Key?”

The smug look wiped clean off Kane’s face. On the table, his hand twitched. He motioned for Cavallid’s flask, which the sailor dutifully handed over. The captain swigged, and Cat did not miss his throat bobbing over his open collar.

“I will not bother asking where you heard that,” he snapped, glaring around at his men. Blushes and stammers followed his gaze, though their explanations mattered little. He waved them off, looking at Cat again. “Drowning Key.”

“Yes,” she replied tightly. “What is it?”

Kane took his time to reply, taking another swig from the flask instead, making her wait, his eyes never leaving her own. Again, Cat felt as if they faced each other across a shooting ground, and not the card table. But she refused to relent, her hands folded primly in her lap. She had more than enough experience sitting and staying silent, waiting for men to speak.

“An island, a small one, easily overlooked. Of little consequence to the Meridian Empire,” he finally said, his words carefully chosen. “And it isn’t on any map—at least not the ones left in my cabin.”

It was a poor answer, if an answer at all. Cat gritted her teeth, cursing herself for not being more specific in her question—and cursing him for seeing her intentions so clearly. Her mind flashed to the patchwork map on the cabin floor, painstakingly slotted together.

And useless.

“Where—” she blurted out, but Kane shook his head.

“You’ll have to win another hand for that, my lady,” he said, already shuffling the cards.

This time, Garedo and Brimley did not bother dealing in. They left the captain and the lady to their battle, the cards flying back and forth, both gamblers sparking like hot coals.

Only a few minutes passed before Kane had Cat up against the wall, the X burning red in her revealed hand. She was breathless with the speed of her loss and barely had time to react before he flung his question across the table.

“Who brought the Venerable news of Allisport?”