Chapter 9 Tamsin #2
I let him look, unembarrassed. I’m aware of my own attributes and how to spin my own narrative with the assets that I have.
I’m not the hottest chick in the magical world, but I’ve been gifted with reasonably symmetrical features, and I know I can look striking when I’m styled the right way—and for some, striking might as well be the same thing as beautiful.
I didn’t exactly dress myself to the nines for a late-night solo session at the gym—but I’ve had the public eye on me long enough to master the art of not looking like a schlub, even if I’m not expecting to be seen.
“Especially when they work as hard as you,” says Rook as he finishes his once-over. “Which you obviously do.” He smirks.
“I was working harder before you interrupted me.”
“Oh, come on, Tam—”
“It’s Tamsin.”
“Is that what my second called you?”
I pause. I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course Samantha Chan would tell her champion about our meeting.
Presumably, he’s the entire reason she agreed to meet with me in the first place.
“When we met each other for literally the first ever time in real life over lunch in a strange city? Yes, she called me by my given name.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised.” Rook sighs, looking fondly disappointed. “Sammy’s a great magician but such a square sometimes. Won’t even let me smoke. Claims it’s bad for my cardio. As if I’ve ever needed cardio to win a duel.”
My eyebrows climb. In fairness, Rook has forced pretty much every magician he’s ever faced to yield within the first three minutes of a duel—hardly marathon material.
But I rarely hear that kind of confidence, bordering on arrogance, spoken aloud.
I suppose the pretty white boy darlings of the world really do live differently.
“I, for one, would love for you to smoke,” I venture in arch tones. “As much as you’d like, in fact. Want to scrap this silly little duel between us and hire me as your second instead?”
I earn an appreciative laugh for that one. “Tempting. But no.”
There’s a brief pause between us—not quite an awkward one, but I’m always one to nip tension in the bud where possible. I clear my throat, jerking my head toward the rest of the empty gym. “You going to get your workout on?”
Lysander Rook, the nerve of him, just shrugs. “I considered it. But mostly, I wanted to be alone without Sammy fussing over me for once. I figured I’d have a good shot at it here.” He flashes a sideways smile at me. “My mistake, obviously.”
Well, that’s one thing we have in common. “Does Samantha fuss a lot?”
“Sammy? Are you kidding? That girl has exactly two settings: mother hen and natural killer. She’s one in the arena and the other one outside of it. Guess which is which.”
“Is that why you chose her as a second?”
“What, you think I enjoy being mother-henned?”
“I think a natural killer recognizes a natural killer.”
Rook quits smiling. Instead, he gives me a long, measured look. “You’ve seen Sammy perform magic, huh?”
“Not on purpose.” Not at first, anyway. “I went over to the training arena next door to get some practice reps in on the dummies there, but I ran into Samantha instead.” I hesitate. “You two have very…different magical styles.”
Rook snorts. “That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.”
“How do you mean?”
“Oh please, you don’t have to play nice with me. Not me, of all people.” Rook rolls his eyes. “You know exactly ‘how I mean.’ ” He makes air quotes as he mimics my voice.
“I really, really don’t.” I truly don’t. But the charm-to-annoyance ratio that Rook’s inflicting on me is tilting steadily toward annoyance.
“Which spells did you watch Sammy cast? Let me guess. The Hex of Mirrors? The Curse of Arrows? Oh wait, don’t tell me, the Four Elements?
” He smirks at the look he sees on my face.
“Ah, I knew it! The Four Elements. Of course it had to be the Four Elements. She’s obsessed with all the basic shit, but that damn sequence is a fixation.
You’d think she never learned a spell that was invented after the 1950s. ”
I don’t know why I bristle. “Basics are what foundations are built on. They have staying power.”
“Yeah, but basics are basics for a reason. They’re easy.
Boring. No one gets excited about basics.
” Rook’s tone is frustratingly dismissive.
“You wouldn’t catch me casting a Hex of Mirrors or Spell of Earth in a high-profile duel.
It’s not what the fans want to see. They pay to be entertained.
That means giving them something they don’t already see every day in the same elementary magic classes for day-one beginners. ”
“Sam could get people to pay to watch her cast the Four Elements,” I insist. “Based on what I saw. Anyone can reproduce fancy new school for flair, if that’s all they want to focus on, but it takes real mastery to elevate foundational magic at a high level. That’s what your second does.”
Something shifts in Rook’s face, hardening his expression. The devil-may-care good humor is gone. My mouth goes dry. For a moment, I see what so many reporters and promoters and opponents probably saw when they saw Lysander Rook standing in a dueling arena: the beautiful boy monster.
The boy monster purses his mouth, then asks, in a voice that sends shivers down my spine, “So what exactly are you trying to tell me?” He takes a step closer to my assault bike. “Are you saying that Sammy can do something I can’t?”
Yes. “No.”
“You are.” Rook’s blue eyes are somehow unusually bright beneath the scant illumination of the half-lit gym. “That’s exactly what you’re telling me. And hey, hey, look at me—it’s okay.” He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. “That’s all…perfectly okay.”
My chest tightens. I get the impression that it’s very much not at all okay.
Opening his eyes again, Rook fixes me with a dazzling smile, wide and white.
I wonder how many girls he’s convinced into his bed with that smile.
I’ve heard all the rumors about the appetites of the magical world’s favorite reclusive heartthrob, but I’ve always wondered how much truth there is behind them.
I suspect it must be awfully logistically difficult to be both a recluse and a stealth ladies’ man.
Maybe he doesn’t sleep with the girls. Maybe he just kills them in back alleys while whispering sweet nothings and flashing that smile at them.
“My second’s very good at what she does,” continues Rook. “She wouldn’t be my second otherwise. But there’s a reason why she’s just that—a magician’s second—while I’m the champion.”
“Yeah?” I don’t let my voice tremble. I won’t give him that satisfaction. But I’ve given up on getting a longer sweat on the assault bike by now, so I dismount. Then I draw my spine straight, so I can look my opponent in the eye. “Enlighten me.”
Rook’s not much taller than I am. He is, in fact, surprisingly slightly built for such a fearsome duelist. But he looks and sounds exactly like the monster he is when he ducks his head to rest his chin on my shoulder and whispers against the shell of my ear, in a voice of pure venom, “Allow me to let you in on a secret, Tam. Sammy’s a real mean little piece of work, but between her and me?
I’m the only one who has the balls to put another magician’s head on a stick.
” His breath ghosts against the sensitive skin of my neck as he chuckles.
“And that’s exactly where yours will be by the time I’m through with you.
You’re not special, Blackwood. You’re just in my way. ”
My heartbeat stutters, practically a spasm against my ribs.
When Rook draws back, he’s all pleasantries again, the monster gone, tucked safely behind the beautiful boy with the casual swagger and easygoing smile.
“Enjoy your workout, Tamsin. I look forward to seeing you at the presser tomorrow.” He winks at me.
“I’m sure the whole thing will be nothing short of a goddamn delight. ”