Chapter Three: The Accidental Round of Kitten Poker
Spike had been playing kitten poker for years and knew what he was getting into. Hence, the powerful need to figure a way out of this as soon as possible without offending any of the demons at the table, including Clem.
Clem was lucky; his kind was usually laid back and affable. When he was caught cheating, there was a fight, but people usually went easy on him. Clem used that to his advantage and usually walked away with a fair number of kittens. Vampires, on the other hand, were never trusted, and many, mostly those that weren’t master vampires, were left in a pile of dust.
This was not a poker table for a human infant to be sitting around, and yet, there Spike found himself with Asher’s small warm body pressed up against him. With wide eyes, his son watched the demons and roly-poly, mewling kittens while diligently sucking on his kitten Wubbanub. How ironic. Spike just hoped that none of the players decided that a human baby was worth throwing into the pot.
Working hard to keep his baby-free leg from jiggling and wishing he had another beer, Spike peeled up the corner of the two cards he’d just been dealt in the fifth hand of the game.
A pair of kings.
Well, bollucks. He was almost been out of kittens, and now he got this?
He just wanted out, but they’d know if he was throwing the game and wouldn’t care about the why. It just wasn’t done. So, when the bet came around to him, he casually said, “Raise half a kitten.” The four little words went against what all his father-instincts were screaming at him. Raising whole kittens at each round led to way too many kittens on the table, so partial kitten raises were preferable. He tried not to think about how keeping track of how many kittens one had was a bit murky, and division of winnings was often bloody.
The slight demon to Spike’s right, Feng, shifted in his chair so that the olive-colored scales covering his body glinted in the dim light. His tail flicked, and Spike kept an eye on the tip, which was capped with a barb that released a deadly poison if it penetrated flesh. Oddly enough, he was a history professor at Loyola, and he studied Spike with wide amber eyes. “See your half kitten and. . . yep.”
“Oh oh,” Louis muttered to himself, picking at a pimple on his chin and swallowing the last of the cracklins he’d commandeered from Clem. “I don’t know what to do. I never know what to do.” Spike thought the young demon chef had no business in a kitten poker game.
“Simple, kid,” the scarlet demon, Mike, growled, breaking up a small skirmish among three kittens who were tumbling toward his beer, “You check, raise, fold, or fight. What’ll it be?”
Louis picked up his cards and held them close to his face, his lavender wings tic-ing with his anxiety. He slammed them on the table and shut his eyes. Good lord, he was dramatic. “Fold. I fold.”
Everyone turned their attention to Clem, who was carefully examining a wriggling kitten that was teetering close to the edge of the table while not very stealthily scratching at the folds on his right arm. Spike recognized his friend’s classic switcheroo tactic, so he cleared his throat. When Clem didn’t respond, he coughed. “Clem. You’re up, mate.”
The loose-skinned demon feigned being startled. “Oh, really? Oh goodness. Kitten’s about to fall.” This didn’t matter at all because there were several kittens wandering around under the table, meowing and tumbling over one another. Successfully distracting everyone but Spike, Clem scooped the grey tabby back into the center of the table and managed to drop the unwanted card from his hand onto the floor, clap his foot over it, and place the one from his arm into his hand. He pretended to study his cards. “Hmmm. Okay. Following the bet here. Adding half a kitten.”
Spike smirked as Asher waved his arms. His Wubbanub dropped to the floor, and Spike bent to scoop it up before it stayed too long on the beer-soaked concrete, nudging aside a kitten that was curiously sniffing at this new object that had tumbled down from above.
“Watcha doin’ there,” Arjun hissed, his forked tongue slipping out of his mouth. His words were a statement and not a question.
“Retrieving my son’s pacifier,” Spike explained, intentionally using a firm tone and the American word for a dummy. Best not to show any hesitation or cause any confusion. Not all demons were the brightest bunch though he knew Arjun was Feng’s colleague at work but in the English department. Asher emitted a small grunt of urgency and strained to reach for the Wubbanub. Spike scrubbed at the green nipple with a clean baby wipe from the diaper backpack next to his chair and passed the huggable stuffed creature to his son, who popped the nipple in his mouth and resumed sucking.
Chomping on the toothpick he’d been using since he ate Spike’s food, Arjun narrowed his yellow-green eyes. “Uh huh. Be careful what you do, vampire. Bringing a human child to this game as a distraction is an interesting technique. Hope you’re not too attached to him.”
Spike, of course, was completely head-over-heels in love with the small boy on his lap. He let his eyes flash golden in warning. “Don’t even pretend to threaten the tot.”
“Fold,” said Arjun, slumping his tall, lean form hard against the back of his chair in a sullen manner.
“It is pretty odd,” Mike agreed, lighting a cigarette, which only ratcheted up Spike’s anger. Bloody hell, he didn’t give up his fags only to expose Asher to second-hand smoke at a sodding kitten poker game!
Clem interrupted the tension fest. “So, um, Mike. In my middle age, I seem to have developed an allergy to cigarette smoke. My eyes get all watery and I feel queasy.” He held his stomach with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. The fact that they were naturally red enhanced the allergy claim. “Mind putting it out?”
Spike’s face relaxed as it dawned on him what Clem was doing. Spike hadn’t even realized he’d been glaring at Mike.
The large scarlet demon stared at Clem with daggers in his eyes; Spike thought that maybe the game might be over sooner than he’d anticipated. He glanced toward the exit. He could probably make it out the door and into the car in a handful of seconds. But wait. Sodding infant car seat! He should’ve brought it in with him.
Mike took a long drag and leisurely puffed out the smoke. Then, with infinite slowness, he stamped out the fag. “Adding that half kitten.”
Though no one made a peep, there was a collective metaphorical sigh around the table. Spike’s was more irritated than the rest as he saw his window of opportunity rapidly closing.
The flop card was a king.
Spike’s jaw tightened. Fuck. Asher’s head went back, and he stared at his daddy with curiosity in his wide green eyes. Spike tried to lower his intensity and patted his son’s leg in reassurance. Spike wasn’t sure if he was comforting himself or the tiny boy.
Mike was expressionless and raised his bet, which left Spike to raise another half a kitten to stay in the game.
Spike tried to remember how many kittens he had left. “Got a quarter kitten left. I’m all in.” Not that that helped him in the least.
With a pot-stirring glint in his eyes, Arjun pointed a casual finger at Asher. “You could bet the baby.”
This time, Spike immediately shifted into game face. “I most certainly will not.”
Clem cleared his throat. “Let’s show some decency here. No one’s betting or taking anyone’s child.”
Arjun snorted but shrugged. “If you say so. I don’t understand how he got stuck babysitting a human child that clearly can’t be his.”
It took everything in Spike not to reach across the table and snap Arjun’s neck. As it stood, Spike didn’t relax a muscle. He really needed out of here and now.
Yeng was silent for a long time – almost too long, one taloned index finger lightly touching his bottom lip, his other hand petting a kitten’s head. The black kitten preened, rubbed his head against the demon’s palm, and purred, oblivious to its potential fate. After what seemed like an eternity, he simply said, “Too rich for my blood.”
Everyone turned to Clem, who happily chirped, “I can do half a kitten!”
The round continued with Mike and Clem adding more and more to the pot as Spike’s dread grew with each card turn. He was all in, and the turn and river yielded a pair of aces. Now, he had a bloody full house. The final bet was placed, and Mike, Clem, and Spike were left.
“All right!” Mike clapped his hands. “Lay ‘em out.”
With great reluctance, Spike flipped over his cards, gently pushing Asher’s hand away from the sharp claws of the grey-and-white spotted kitten that he was attempting to grab.
Clem turned his cards with a triumphant expression, and Mike tossed his cards toward the middle of the table. Spike quickly scanned the results. Mike had a pair of queens, and Clem somehow had four aces. Spike resisted the urge to shout with joy. Four of a kind and four aces unequivocally beat his full house of kings and aces.
Mike shook his head in disappointment, and Clem grinned, counting the kittens on the table to add to the mental tabulation of his stash.
Shifting back to his human guise to at least pretend civility and hopefully get out in one piece, Spike pushed back from the table. “Well, gents, that means I’m all out of kittens, and I need to get the boy in bed. It’s well past his bedtime. Clem, thank you for the visit and the game. Night all.” Asher yawned to punctuate Spike’s assertion. He stood and propped his son on his hip, snagging the diaper backpack and baby carrier from the floor. He set the bag on his chair and zipped it up before slinging it over his shoulder.
Clem grinned at him and raised his beer. “Until next time.”
Spike tried not to stride too quickly toward the door, tossed a wad of cash onto the bar to pay for his beer and food, and nodded casually at the bartender, feeling a twinge of camaraderie. Now that he thought about it, he seemed to remember seeing the bloke at one of the drink-slinging trainings in town. The cat demon’s only acknowledgment was to lift one eyebrow at him.
“W-wait!” Louis shouted belatedly as Spike’s hand landed on the door. Spike’s head shot up, and he realized that the younger demon was gesturing at Clem. “He cheated! I had an ace of hearts in my hand! There’s no way he had four aces!”
Everyone at the table stood almost simultaneously, and a kitten leaped to the floor, falling on his tiny face.
Clem held up his hands, palms forward. “Now, guys.”
Spike ground his teeth and briefly closed his eyes. He addressed Asher, “So, guess we have to stay for a few. Try not to watch, okay?” Buffy was strict about watching the fighting. Even though the tyke probably wouldn’t remember a thing, Spike knew the boy could pick up on the emotions. He didn’t want to scar his child. He’d have plenty of his own trials to deal with as he grew up.
Backtracking toward the cluster of demons, Spike plunked the backpack and baby carrier on the bar. “Mind if I – ”
The bartender sighed and shook his head. “Go ahead.” He held out his arms and gently took Asher. “Try to minimize the damage if you don’t mind. Third fight this week.”
Spike nodded his agreement. “Right.”
Then, he hurtled himself back toward the group of demons, dodging a mix of fearful and playful kittens and somehow managing not to step on any of the little buggers. Mike was holding Clem up by the back of his collar while Arjun searched his folds and Louis was hunkered down on the ground, searching for extra cards, which totally defeated the purpose because the table was turned on its side and cards were everywhere. Feng was leaning with his back against the wall and scrolling through something on his phone, obviously not caring about the whole scuffle. Poor Clem’s face was turning purple from the air being cut off in his neck.
“Hey!” Spike shouted. “Unhand my friend.”
“What’s it to you, vampire?” Arjun hissed, his tongue causing a lisp on his “s” in his fit of temper.
“And aren’t you a vampire?” Mike’s deep voice was tight with fury, the knuckles on his hand straining and the muscles in his bicep tight, the spikes almost popping out of his flesh. “He was cheating, and you’ll be lucky to escape alive. Or undead or whatever you fellows like to say about yourselves.”
Feng didn’t seem to really want to get involved, and Louis was now cowering on the other side of the room, nervously picking pimples and too in over his head to jump in the fray. So, that left Mike and Arjun, and Spike had serious doubts about taking on them both.
Still, a grin spread over his face. Since when did that stop him? Plus, Clem was going to pass out if Spike waited much longer.
With a swirl of emotions churning through his gut, he balled his hand into a fist and swung with gusto at Mike’s nose – the one place he didn’t have spines aside from his eyes and lips and where he was probably most vulnerable. His fist landed home and made a satisfying crunch that led to an immediate howl of pain and release of Clem, who stumbled backward coughing as air rushed back into his lungs.
Eyes squeezed shut in pain, Mike held his nose and growled, lashing out with his free arm at anyone around him, probably blindly hoping to take someone down. The problem was that he missed Spike and Clem completely, stepped on the tail of a startled bit of fluff that let out a high-pitched squeal, stumbled forward in a little half turn, and managed to drive one of the bigger spines at his elbow into Arjun’s middle.
Arjun screamed as he was gored, and Clem picked up a chair and brained him over the head with it so that he lost consciousness and crumpled to the ground, narrowly missing the same white kitten with the crushed tail.
Spike made eye contact with Clem who was still panting but seemed otherwise unharmed. Every muscle still tense with adrenaline, Spike nodded at his friend. Clem didn’t say a word and hustled past Spike, pausing only to bend down and scoop up a couple of kittens.
Feng was still trolling the net, and Louis stared at Spike in fear. He smirked at the poor cowering bloke and hurried over to Asher.
The corner of the bartender’s mouth lifted. “Nice job.”
Spike accepted the small weight of his baby back into his arms, and he was never so grateful to have the little guy close, his tiny heartbeat faintly audible. “Not too much of a mess, eh?”
“Nope. Next time you come in, have a beer on me.”
“I’ll take you up on that.” Spike snagged the diaper backpack and carrier and hightailed it after Clem into the night.