Read Online Revenge and the Wild by Michelle Modesto - Free Book Online

water. The pungent sweetness of cigar smoke and the earthy smell of spittoons made her tongue feel thick and brought a salty taste to the back of her throat.
    She yawned to keep back the vomit and moved her cards into her flesh hand, balling her mechanical one into a fist. The brass gears turned without sound, and clusters of thick copper wire moved like tendons.
    The young leprechaun pulled at his flaking bottom lip, took a deep breath, and eased it out before laying his cards on the table and sliding his chair back in defeat. Westie fumbled with the coins, her clockwork fingers not as agile as the flesh and bone of her left hand.
    “Hold on one moment, please,” James said. There was something about the way he talked, a slight drawl lingering behind certain vowels, that made Westie think all the prim talk was just an act. “You haven’t won yet.”
    He splayed his cards on the table for her to see: queens.
    Westie tossed her sevens onto the table and wiped at her eyes.
    “Sevens?” James said with a skewed grin. There was a little white scar across his bottom lip, only visible when he smiled. “That’s brilliant. I was almost ready to fold. You have an excellent poker face.”
    “Wait one blamed minute,” the young leprechaun said. He climbed onto his chair but even then couldn’t match James’s sittingheight. He took hold of the starched lapels of the boy’s coat. “You been cheatin’, boy?”
    “Certainly not,” James said with a stubborn incline of his chin. “I play at the gentlemen’s club in the city.” He pulled his expensive coat out of the young leprechaun’s grip, smoothing the wrinkled fabric. “I have had adequate practice.”
    Westie tapped a copper finger against the table. Another drink and another game were what the doctor ordered. She wasn’t drunk enough to feel nothing yet, and there was more coin to lose.
    “Stop your bitching and play the damn game,” she said.
    The young leprechaun snarled, revealing crumbling teeth and fiery gum disease beneath his pointed nose.
    Westie rolled her eyes.
    “Take off that fine coat and show me the cards you been hiding up them sleeves,” the young leprechaun said, tugging at James’s cuff.
    “I don’t cheat,” James said, tugging back. “You’re just a shit card player.”
    The leprechaun’s nostrils flared. “What did you say to me?”
    “You heard me,” James said.
    The music stopped as the young leprechaun slid a trapper knife from his boot. A crowd gathered. James froze in place. The dancing banshee shrieked as banshees often did, and ran from the room. Westie was on her feet and around the table before anyone had the chance to notice. The creature thrust his knife toward James’s face, but Westie was faster despite her drunkenness. She reached out, gripping the blade with her machine and twisting it until itsnapped. The leprechaun dropped what was left of his weapon and tried to flee, but she grabbed his wrist and hugged it in her copper grip. Her innards growled and she had to piss something fierce, but she held on. She stared at him a long stretch, noticed the muscles of his face twitch.
    “Know what happens to creatures when they kill humans under the protection of Wintu magic?” she asked.
    His chin quivered. He shook his head.
    “First the skin bubbles and melts like hot wax. There’s a whole lot of screaming, a lot of pain.” She waved that part off. “Though there are laws against it, humans can kill creatures at their discretion. We’re not affected by magic, you see?”
    The young leprechaun soaked up the bleakness of his predicament, and his eyes bloated with fear. He let out a whimper as she tightened her grip.
    “I weren’t gonna kill him. I was just gonna cut up his pretty face is all,” the young leprechaun said.
    Westie thought about breaking his arm to show it was no idle threat, but she had seen more than her share of brutality while she was out on the road. She dropped his arm and plucked a silver