Storms of Lazarus (Shadows of Asphodel, Book 2) (8 page)

The zeppelin captain slid four glasses across the table and expertly poured them each a shot of apricot schnapps.

Konstantin took his glass first. “A toast?”

“Do you have one in mind?” Himmel said, sitting by the archmage.

Konstantin’s ears reddened. “No.”

“I have one.” Himmel lifted his glass. “To a Christmas with clear skies.”

“Without wasps,” Ardis added.

“Hear, hear.”

They all clinked glasses. Ardis knocked back her shot. The alcohol scorched her throat the whole way down, and the sweet taste of apricot lingered on her tongue. She made a satisfied murmur, then lifted her glass again.

“To good schnapps,” Ardis said.

Himmel laughed and poured her another shot. Konstantin still had half of a shot. He drank it fast, coughed, and put down his glass. Wendel smiled wickedly and scooted Konstantin’s glass closer to the bottle.

“Another for the archmage,” Wendel said.

“I’m fine,” Konstantin said.

But Himmel poured him another shot. Konstantin took his glass from him. Wincing, he sipped the apricot schnapps.

“You don’t drink very often,” Ardis said, “do you?”

Konstantin’s eyes widened. “Alcohol and technomancy aren’t compatible.”

Himmel laughed. “An experiment gone wrong?”

A spectacular blush reddened Konstantin’s face. He tried to look serious, but he fidgeted too much for it to be convincing.

“I would never experiment with alcohol while in the laboratory,” he said.

His eyes twinkling, Himmel nudged Konstantin with his elbow.

“I believe you,” he said. “Archmages are straightlaced men.”

Konstantin swigged the rest of his schnapps and grimaced at the ceiling. Then he glanced sideways at Himmel and raised his finger.

“Relatively,” Konstantin said. “After all, zeppelin captains are reckless men.”

Ardis laughed at the surprise on Himmel’s face.

“How reckless are we feeling today?” she said, and everyone looked at her with curiosity. “Reckless enough for a game of poker?”

“Gambling isn’t allowed on this airship.” Himmel winked. “Technically.”

“Quite right,” Konstantin said, missing the wink.

“We don’t have to play for money,” Ardis said. “We could play for peanuts.”

“We don’t have any peanuts,” Wendel said.

Inspiration struck Ardis, and she couldn’t stop grinning. The heat of the schnapps glowed from her belly and warmed her skin.

“When we Americans invented poker,” she said, “we also invented a few spicier versions. Ever heard of strip poker?”

Wendel, who was drinking his second shot, spluttered and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Yes!” Wendel said. “Yes, we should definitely play strip poker.”

Ardis rolled her eyes. “I’ll beat you, Wendel.”

“I love a challenge.”

She didn’t mention that strip poker was a popular game at her mother’s brothel in San Francisco, but Wendel should know better.

“What are the rules of strip poker?” Konstantin said.

“You play for clothes,” Wendel said.

Konstantin squinted. “I don’t need any more clothes.”

Everyone but Konstantin laughed, and the archmage looked so red in the face that Ardis touched the back of his hand.

“Every time you lose,” Ardis said, “you lose some of your clothes.”

Konstantin tugged on the wool scarf at his neck. “Well. I see. Though I do appear to be wearing quite a few articles of clothing.” He articulated his words so carefully that he must have started feeling the alcohol.

“I’m game,” Wendel said. “Are you, archmage? Feel like losing today?”

Konstantin narrowed his eyes, then smiled thinly. “Oh, I won’t be the first one out.”

Ardis laughed. “Himmel, are you in?”

The captain shoved his chair from the table. He rummaged in a shelf and returned with a deck of playing cards. Himmel tossed the cards to Ardis. She caught them and started shuffling them on the table. Wendel watched her with a vague smile, and Konstantin toyed with his shot glass. Krampus continued preening.

“Is anyone a poker virgin?” Ardis said. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Himmel and Wendel shook their heads.

“I’m familiar with the general theory,” Konstantin said.

“Five-card draw,” Ardis said. “The ante will be one piece. If you fold, you strip. If you bet more and lose, you strip more.”

Himmel nodded. “Sounds fair.”

“I’ll deal.” Ardis tapped the cards on the table. “Cut the deck, Archmage Konstantin.”

Squinting, Konstantin split the shuffled deck in half. Then Ardis took the deck back and dealt everyone five cards facedown.

“First round of betting,” she said.

Konstantin let out a puff of air. “I may be a virgin, but I know how to play.”

Wendel laughed, his eyes sparkling, and Himmel struggled to keep a straight face. Konstantin sighed and reached for the bottle of schnapps, but Himmel slid it out of his reach. The captain caught the archmage’s eye.

“Slow down there,” Himmel said.

“It’s only two shots,” Konstantin said.

“Of schnapps.”

Konstantin snorted. “I’m not inebriated.”

“Yet.” Himmel curled his mustache. “Feeling reckless?”

Konstantin met his stare. “Possibly.”

Wendel stole the bottle and helped himself to a third shot. He knocked it back.

“Are we playing or not?” he said.

“Once we all look at our cards,” Ardis said.

They each picked up their hands. Ardis had one pair—an eight of hearts and an eight of spades. Wendel smirked for an instant, Konstantin licked his lips, and Himmel leaned back in his chair. Ardis kept her face blank.

“Now we bet?” Konstantin said.

“Yes,” Ardis said. “Clothing instead of chips.”

“I bet one,” Wendel said.

“I call,” Himmel said.

Konstantin chewed on his lip. “Wendel, I’ll see your one and raise you two.”

Wendel whistled low under his breath.

“I fold,” Ardis said, and she tossed her cards onto the table.

“I’ll call your bet, archmage,” Wendel said.

Himmel relinquished his cards. “I’m out.”

“Since I folded…” Ardis took off one of her boots. “There.”

Himmel kicked off both of his boots and wiggled his toes.

“Not too bad,” the captain said.

“Now we draw?” Konstantin said.

Ardis nodded. “You and Wendel are at three, counting the ante.”

Konstantin shook his head and didn’t draw. Wendel discarded a card and took another from the deck. He looked rather smug.

“I check,” Konstantin said.

“Check,” Wendel said. “Show me your cards, archmage.”

Konstantin had a serene smile. “My pleasure.”

Wendel slapped his cards on the table. Konstantin bared his with a flourish. Wendel had two pair, but Konstantin had a straight.

“Damn it,” Wendel growled.

Konstantin grinned and tossed his scarf over his shoulder.

“You thought I was bluffing?” he said.

Wendel sighed and kicked off both his boots, followed by his coat, which he draped over the back of the couch.

“I need another drink,” Wendel said.

They passed around the bottle of schnapps. When Ardis drank her third shot, she barely noticed the burn of the alcohol.

“Ready for another round?” Ardis said.

Everyone nodded, and she passed the deck to Wendel.

“Your turn to deal,” she said.

Wendel shuffled with skill, glaring at Konstantin the whole time, then dealt their hands. Ardis had two pair—a pair of aces and a pair of eights. Giddiness bubbled in her chest, though that may have been the schnapps. She forced a poker face and glanced between the others. Wendel still glared at Konstantin, who seemed pleased by his hand. Himmel ran his tongue over his teeth and narrowed his eyes at his cards.

“Bet or check?” Wendel said.

“I’ll bet my hat,” Himmel said.

“I call,” Konstantin said. “Though I don’t have a hat.”

Himmel tipped his hat to Konstantin, who smiled shyly.

“Okay,” Ardis said, “I’ll call.”

She knew she had a good hand, but she didn’t want to look too cocky.

“Call,” Wendel said. “Time to draw.”

Himmel discarded and drew two cards, pokerfaced, though he did tweak his mustache. Konstantin replaced only one and puffed his cheeks in a sigh. Ardis kept her two pair and discarded a card, then drew a third ace.

Full house. Ardis curled her toes and resisted the urge to grin.

When Wendel tossed three of his cards onto the table, they skidded off the edge and fell. He ducked under the table and grabbed them, then flounced back in his seat. Ardis giggled, a bit giddy. Wendel pretended to glare at her, then meticulously discarded his cards and drew three. He flicked his eyebrows upward.

“Check,” Himmel said.

“Very well,” Konstantin said. “I’ll check.”

Ardis paused. “I’ll bet three.”

Everyone glanced at her, and she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

Wendel tilted his head. “You must be bluffing.”

Ardis smirked at him. “Do you call?”

“Why the hell not?” Wendel said, with tipsy bravado.

Konstantin swallowed. “I fold.”

Himmel eyed Ardis for a long moment, then met Konstantin’s gaze.

“I call,” Himmel said. “Showdown.”

Ardis watched them reveal their hands. Wendel had one pair, and Himmel had two pair. She spread her cards on the table.

“Full house,” she said.

“I can see that,” Himmel said dryly.

Wendel swore at great length in more than two languages.

“Is this the part where I get naked?” he said.

Ardis grinned. “You knew the stakes.”

He sighed. “Your wish is my command.”

Wendel climbed to his feet and dipped into an exaggerated bow. He unbuttoned his shirt and flung it away, then balanced on one foot to peel off his sock. He hopped onto his other foot, wobbled, and almost toppled before he defeated his second sock. Barefoot, Wendel unbuckled his belt and kicked off his trousers.

“Voila,” Wendel deadpanned.

“No undershirt?” Himmel remarked. “Your loss.”

Ardis grinned at Wendel as he stood there in his drawers. He caught her gaze and arched his eyebrows. She rather appreciated the loss of his clothes, which no longer hid his pale skin or the lean angles of his body.

“Do the belt and trousers count as two?” Wendel said. “Or do the drawers go?”

“Let’s stop at that,” Ardis said.

Konstantin’s face reddened to the roots of his hair, and he looked everywhere but Wendel. Ardis couldn’t blame Konstantin, considering their history. Wendel had kissed Konstantin, picked his pockets, and destroyed their work together on Project Lazarus. Flying to Prussia was Wendel’s last shot to redeem himself.

Himmel looked Wendel over from head to toe, then shoved his chair from the table.

“Strip,” Wendel said, slurring just a little. “Nudity loves company.”

Himmel did as he was told. Jacket, overshirt, undershirt, and a single sock. Ardis caught herself staring at Himmel’s surprisingly muscled chest. Finally, Himmel took his captain’s hat and dropped it on Konstantin’s head.

“You folded, Falkenrath,” Himmel said.

“What? Pardon?” Konstantin stammered. “Oh, yes, I suppose I did.”

Konstantin fumbled with his boots. The captain’s hat almost teetered from his head, but Himmel straightened it for him.

“Hand me the schnapps,” Wendel said.

“How many shots have you had?” Ardis said. “Four?”

“Yes. This will be my fifth.”

“Impressive.”

“Trust me,” Himmel said, “don’t underestimate schnapps.”

“I can hold my liquor,” Wendel scoffed.

Himmel shrugged. “You might win the vomiting match later.”

Konstantin laughed and clapped his hands. He seemed to have a perpetual blush at this point. Wendel poured himself a fifth shot and sprawled back on the couch with a sloppy grin. Ardis leaned across the table and tugged the bottle of schnapps from Wendel’s hands. He frowned and tilted his head.

“Do you always drink this much?” Ardis said.

“Don’t you drink to get drunk?” Wendel laughed. “Heaven forbid I go to Prussia sober.”

With that, he downed the schnapps.

Himmel started shuffling the cards. “Another round?”

“I’m in,” Konstantin said. “I feel lucky.”

Himmel winked at Konstantin, whose blush went from red to volcanic. Ardis squinted at the two of them. Perhaps Himmel knew Konstantin preferred gentlemen. Was the archmage too oblivious to notice any flirtation?

“To tell you the truth,” Wendel said, “I hate Prussia.”

“Oh?” Himmel said, who seemed the most sober.

Wendel leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “I would have been a prince, and I never even liked Prussia. We lived too far north. Too damn cold.” He snorted. “Who knows? Maybe the wind and the snow won’t bother me now. I don’t feel cold much anymore, after the whole returning from the dead thing.”

Himmel stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You know, when Thorsten stabbed me in the heart and threw me from a tower.” Wendel pantomimed something tiny falling from the table to the floor. “Plenty of sharp rocks below, too. Must have been quite a crunch.”

Ardis’s stomach writhed with anxiety, and the alcohol wasn’t helping.