Henri opened the door, and Remi walked in to the sounds of conversation, laughter, and toasts throughout the house.

“Bonne nuit, Henri,” Remi said, as he withdrew his deck from his jacket before handing it to him to hang.

“Indeed, it is, monsieur. A good night for sure.”

“Is there any whiskey left?”

“I hid a few bottles especially for you.”

“Merci.” Remi looked around. “And Luc?”

“In the cardroom with madame.”

Moving through the crowd, Remi nodded to those he knew and searched the faces of those he didn’t. He’d arrived earlier than necessary. His match wasn’t scheduled for another couple of hours.

Luc had chosen players by skill level, using the statistics from the website so that each would be evenly matched. As he was top seeded Remi would play his opponent last, going head to head with TripleAce.

“Gentlemen, please place your bets!” shouted Paulette, the dealer.

Tipping his head to her, he took an empty seat by his brother.

“How’s the action?”

“Very robust. We’ve had good play all night.”

“Any that you would invite back?”

“Several.”

“Henri said he saved some liquor for me.”

“Oui, and Paulette has the special provision for your other need. Both should be behind the bar, under the sink and in the fridge.”

“Merci.” Remi paused in thought. “What if somebody else goes back there? Will they see the packs?”

“She put up a sign.”

Twisting in his seat, Remi looked behind him. Setting on the counter was a notice in bold letters that read, NOT FOR PUBLIC USE! BELLERIVE FAMILY ONLY!

“Ah.”

“I didn’t think it would work, but no one has even stepped near that area.”

“Be right back.”

As Remi stood and walked towards the bar, a group of people gave him questioning looks.

“It’s okay. I’m Remi Bellerive.”

“You’re Remi?”

“Oui.”

“Can I shake your hand? Fellas! We’re in the presence of poker royalty!”

“Of course.” He held his hand out. “Merci.”

After chitchatting with them for a few minutes, Remi excused himself and proceeded on to where the liquor and blood were stored, waiting for him. Squatting down, he opened the cabinet and saw three bottles of whiskey. He took one out and set it on the counter, before opening the fridge.

A black plastic tumbler with a matching straw was on a rack beside the bags. After filling it with blood, he lifted it up and used his preternatural vision to look at its contents. He wasn’t able to see it, and the scent was minimal at best. A human would have no idea what he was drinking or the amount. Although it was well known that vampires and other supes called New Orleans their home, he didn’t want anyone to be alarmed.

“Monsieur Miller has folded.”

“Check.”

“Raise,” another said to the clinks of plastic hitting the velvet.

“The bet is with you, Monsieur Clark.”

“Call,” he replied.

“To you, Monsieur Green.”

A moment of silence spread across the room, with all the voices dropping to nothing.

“Fold.”

“Monsieur Green has folded, and his chips are added to the pot.” Paulette brought the final card to the dealer’s hand. “Gentlemen, the river.”

Though Remi was only listening, he was enthralled, anxious to compete, anticipating what the remaining players would do and who was going to win.

“Monsieurs Clark and Moulliac, please show your hands.”

A collective gasp went through the observers, and Remi poked his head above the bar as he twisted the top, sealing in the contents of the cup before he stood.

“Monsieur Clark has three of a kind, and Monsieur Moulliac, a full house. Thank you for playing with us tonight. Please clear the table, so we may prepare for the next group.”

The men exchanged pleasantries and then stood, making their way through the room.

“Hey, Remi!”

“’Ello, Jim!” He straightened from leaning on the counter. “How are you and Mrs. Clark doing?”

“Judging from the sound of all those hens cackling, she’s probably into the third bottle of wine out there with her friends. Say, I lost, but I tell ya, I’m not ready to stop playing. I know you’re a hell of a lot better than I am, but how about a few hands before you go on?”

“You’re not betting against me.”

“Oh, I know better than that!”

“Then, sure. Oui. The kitchen table should be available.”

“You got that antique deck on you?”

“Of course.”

Jim slapped him on the back and said, “Let’s go!”