I waited while the demoness shuffled the deck of cards. I hated waiting. Inside the tent, her red fingers glowed gently like dying coals. Her skin was smooth, and her body swayed back and forth hypnotically. Small horns perhaps two to three inches long indicated youth. Madam Evonne was younger than I had guessed, which explained the snakeskin miniskirt and black leather half vest that emphasized her breasts. A silver neclace in the shape of a Y rested in the dip of her cleavage. Electric green eyes flicked to mine and, once locked, I couldn’t look away.

She set the cards between us. The dark back of the cards was difficult to see against the soft satin of the table cloth. “Cut.”

Tearing my eyes from hers was like peeling off a scab, leaving mine raw and unprotected.

My current situation being what it was, I felt compelled to pick up the majority of the deck, narrowing my options down to almost nothing.

With one deft movement she flipped over the top card, the first of five, and slid it in front of me.