THE ANTE IS BLOOD, AND I’LL RAISE YOU HELL
THE ANTE IS BLOOD, AND I’LL RAISE YOU HELL
Tonight, the brothel pulsed with its usual chaotic rhythm, even as the words from yesterday’s sermon still lingered in the back of everyone’s minds.
Laughter bubbled up, glasses clinked, and the soft notes of the piano twisted through the air.
Lantern light fluttered overhead, casting playful shadows on patrons’ faces, some lounging in plush chairs, others leaning against the bar, voices weaving in and out.
Outside, the world waited with its battles and threats, but in here, for these hours, the music, the drinks, and the company took hold.
I smirked as I watched Violet work her magic at the bar.
She was perched on a stool, her back arched just right, catching the eye of a tall man in a black hat who had just walked in.
He looked a little out of place, all dark eyes and nervous energy, but Violet was a different story.
She leaned forward, letting the silk of her dress slip just enough to give him a glimpse of skin, and it worked like a charm.
I could practically see the poor guy squirm as she flashed him that knowing smile.
“How’s about a drink and a little company, darlin’? ” She purred.
The man stammered, clearly caught off guard by her presence. “Of course, miss. A drink for your company, any day.”
Violet smiled, enjoying the effect she had.
“Then let’s make sure the company lasts longer than the whiskey, shall we?
” She slid the bottle toward him, her fingers brushing against his hand in just the right way.
It was deliberate, designed to create an electric charge between them.
He’d be thinking about that touch long after the night ended.
I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself, watching the whole thing unfold.
Violet was a master at this, dangerous, yet undeniably charming.
But tonight, I had my own plans. I moved through the crowd, eyes darting around to take in every detail.
While Elona’s laughter rang through the room, drawing people in, Maeve caught my attention.
She was sprawled in her chair, one arm slung over the back, the other holding her cards like they were an afterthought.
But there was nothing casual about Maeve, not when she was at a table.
“Right, lads,” she said, her voice carrying a lazy charm. “Are we playing cards, or are we all just here to see how many chips you can toss away before your pride gives out?”
The man to her left, a slick-haired sort who reeked of cheap cologne and desperation, laughed. “Just admiring your technique, Miss Maeve. It’s. . . impressive.”
Maeve raised a brow. “That’s a very polite way of saying you’ve no idea what you’re doin’. Here’s a tip: flattery won’t save your arse when I clean you out.” The other men at the table chuckled nervously, but she had them: hook, line, and ego.
Another player, bearded and older, with a cigar clamped between yellowed teeth, leaned in with a crooked grin. “You always run your mouth this much when you’re bluffing?”
Maeve took a slow sip from her glass, then set it down with a soft thud.
“Only when I’m bored. And Gods help me, you lot are duller than communion wine.
” She tossed in her chips. “Raise.” The pile of chips in the middle was growing, but so was the unease.
Maeve was all confidence, and behind those green eyes was meticulous calculation.
“You’ve a poker face, I’ll give you that,” the younger one muttered, eyeing her nervously.
Elona, lounging nearby with a flute of champagne, gave a soft laugh. “Careful boys, Maeve doesn’t bluff, she hunts.”
Maeve raised her glass in salute, her grin turning wolfish.
“And tonight, I’ve an appetite.” Cards slapped the table with a final thwap sound.
Maeve’s eyes swept from face to face. “Tell me something,” she said sweetly to the sweating man across from her.
“When you lose, do you whinge all the way home, or sit in silence like a good little lad and swallow the shame?” He started to laugh, but shut up when she laid down her hand, four queens, neat as you like.
A groan rose around the table as she raked in her winnings.
“Elona, love,” Maeve called over her shoulder, stacking her chips. “Remind me to buy something sinful with this haul. Velvet . . . or lace. Red, maybe?”
“Oh, definitely red,” Elona said with a wink. “Something scandalous enough to haunt their dreams.”
“Haunt them?” Maeve scoffed. “I plan to ruin them.”
A man from the bar approached, fresh-faced, with a dapper look and a clean coat. “Mind if I have a seat, miss?”
Maeve gave him a once-over. His boots were scuffed just enough to say he traveled, his hands were steady, and his accent marked him as an outsider. His appearance and demeanor certainly had her interest. “That depends,” she said, playfully. “You here to play cards, or test your luck?”
“Bit of both, maybe.” He replied with a grin.
She leaned back, looking him square in the eye. “Fair warning, stranger, I don’t believe in luck, and I’ve no time for lads who fold at the first sign of trouble.”
He pulled out a chair anyway. “Then I’ll try not to disappoint.”
Maeve offered him a dangerous smile. “Good man. But I’ll warn you proper, once I’ve taken your money, I’ll be needing a dance too.” The men around the table chuckled, but it was clear that they were all already losing, and she hadn’t even shown her next hand.
A few steps away, Elona had her own crowd.
Her laughter floated through the room as she effortlessly charmed a group of men, all of them hanging on her every word.
One older man, his hair graying and his face weathered by years spent in the mines, leaned forward, trying to sound casual but clearly enchanted by her wit.
“You’ve got a way with words, girl,” he said.
“But I’m not sure I believe everything you’re saying about your travels. ”
Elona smiled that honeyed smile of hers, eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Oh, I assure you, I only tell the truth when it suits me.” She said, her voice smooth as silk.
She inched forward, as if to share a secret, but never once broke eye contact.
“And right now, I think it suits me to say I’ve seen more of the world than you would in a hundred lifetimes. ”
The man’s grin widened, clearly smitten. “A hundred lifetimes, huh? Well, I guess I’m gonna have to buy you a drink and hear more about this mysterious life of yours.”
Elona raised an eyebrow, her gaze warm but teasing. “You poor thing, thinking I’ll tell you all my secrets over a pint. I’ll be drinking for a century, and you won’t know half of it.”
Violet slid up beside me at that moment, eyes full of wicked amusement. “You see that?” She laughed, tilting her head toward Elona. “They always think they’ll get us to spill our secrets.”
“They’ll spend their pay trying.” I said, watching the room.
“They think drinks and compliments will crack us open,” Violet continued, “but they’ll never get what they really want.”
“Not by a long shot.” I agreed.
She grinned. “Still, the chase is fun, don’t you think?”
I gave her a sly look. “Let them chase. I’m in no rush to end the game.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Emil standing quietly near the door with a drink in hand.
His usual stoic expression was softened as he watched the women work their charm on the room.
I caught his eye and gave him a slight nod.
He didn’t have to say anything, I could see the amusement on his face as he observed us.
I watched Nell from across the room, her expression that of delight and just a pinch of pity, like she couldn’t quite decide whether to laugh or mourn for the poor souls around us.
She poured a few more drinks as the piano shifted into a rollicking jig.
Maeve pushed back from the card table, chips in hand and a smirk on her lips.
“Alright, enough sittin’ around,” she called.
“No one’s gettin’ out of here without a dance tonight. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
The room erupted in cheers and laughter.
Chairs scraped back from tables and boots thudded against the floor.
Bodies began to move with an energy that had been simmering all night, now spilling over like champagne.
Elona was already on the floor, dragging Violet with her, both laughing like girls with nothing to lose.
The music picked up and everyone spun and swayed with reckless joy.
I leaned against the bar, letting it wash over me, the clatter of heels, the sparkle of silk, the bright sting of whiskey on my tongue.
For a few hours, the world outside didn’t exist, it was just us, reveling in the music and the warmth of the night.
My friends, my family, were at the center of it all, and as I looked around, I felt a sense of pride.
I raised my glass slightly, offering a silent toast to the women who had become my everything. “To us.” I whispered, a soft smile playing on my lips.