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When it came around to Caleb in the small blind, he had to decide whether to fold, call the one-fifty, or raise to at least three hundred. With a four and an eight of spades, he had next to nothing — but then again, that was exactly the kind of hand where his demonic abilities would have come in handy in the past.

But no. He’d made a promise to himself, and he was going to keep those powers out of this even if he crashed and burned.

“Call,” he said, adding another $125 to match Ty’s raise. Nita called as well, and Jeff folded rather than put in an additional hundred.

The dealer’s fingers flew as she laid out the flop: king of hearts, seven of spades, two of diamonds.

Now Caleb was first to act, since the small blind acted first on all betting rounds after the initial one. For a fraction of a second, he could have sworn he saw Ty’s cards shimmer, like heat waves rising off hot asphalt. He blinked hard. When he looked again, everything seemed normal, but there was something about the way Ty’s mouth quirked at one corner that made him uneasy.

“Check,” Caleb said, tapping the table.

Nita checked as well, but Ty didn’t hesitate. “Bet two hundred,” he said, that same knowing smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

Caleb had nothing but a flush draw, and he knew the smart play would be to fold. But there was something about the way the cards seemed to dance at the edges of his vision, something that made his quarter-demon blood sing with recognition. He called. Nita folded with a shake of her head.

The turn brought the jack of spades.

Three spades. One card away from a flush. Caleb’s heart quickened — not because of supernatural intervention this time, but from genuine excitement. This was what he’d wanted: the pure thrill of the game.

“Check,” Caleb said.

Ty’s cards flickered again, and this time Caleb was sure he wasn’t imagining that odd shimmer. There was some kind of magic at work here, subtle but present nonetheless.

The kind of magic that wouldn’t show up on security cameras...but which any supernatural creature worth their salt would recognize.

“Bet five hundred,” Ty said.

Caleb studied the other man carefully. If Ty was using magic, he wasn’t doing it the way Caleb would have in the past — no blunt force making the right cards appear at the right time, just a slight edge, a whisper of insight into his opponents’ hands. The kind of thing that would be nearly impossible to prove.

The responsible thing would be to report it. But then Caleb would have to explain how he knew the other man’s playing wasn’t on the up and up, and that would lead to questions he couldn’t answer. Besides, wasn’t this exactly the kind of challenge he’d been looking for? Beating someone who was cheating by doing it fair and square?

“Call,” Caleb said. He had position on Ty — if the river brought another spade, he could make his move then. If not, well, he still had enough chips to recover.

The dealer burned a card and turned over the river: the queen of spades.

The flush was complete.

“Check,” Caleb said, wanting to see what Ty would do.

Ty’s cards shimmered one final time, and Caleb caught the briefest glimpse of what looked like two pair — kings and jacks. Good, but not good enough.

“All in,” Ty said smoothly, pushing his remaining chips forward — about six hundred dollars.

It was decision time. Caleb had the flush, but there was still a chance Ty might have a higher spade hand. The old him would have known for certain. The new him had to trust his instincts — his human instincts.

“Call,” he said as he pushed his chips forward.

Ty revealed his cards first: king-jack off-suit for two pair. He looked expectantly at Caleb.

With deliberate slowness, Caleb turned over his four and eight of spades. “Flush,” he said quietly.

The dealer gave a single nod. “Flush wins.”

As Caleb raked in the chips, he caught Ty’s eye. The other man’s easy smile had faltered slightly, replaced by something sharper, more calculating. It was a look that said he knew Caleb had seen something he shouldn’t have, even though he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

Ty pushed his chair back from the table with a sigh. “Well played,” he said, though there was an edge to his voice.

“Still plenty of tournament left,” Caleb said, trying to sound reassuring, but his attention remained on Ty, who was now gathering his things. Their eyes met again, and this time there was a silent understanding between them.