Chapter 20 Sam #3
“Why did I let it happen?” Blackwood continues.
His voice takes on a hard edge. “As if I had a true hand in any of this. Let me explain something to you, my dear. The so-called underground of the magical world is magic in its purest form. It’s magic as it was meant to exist. No rules.
No regulations. And every man out for himself.
Your brother was one of them. He stepped up to the plate.
So did Alexei. I simply facilitated what they both wanted.
If it ended in a way neither of them would have preferred, well, that’s the choice they both made, isn’t it? ”
“Jamie was just a kid.” My voice cracks. I hate that it cracks.
“He was your age. And Lysander Rook’s. And my own daughter’s. And all three of you seem to have no trouble at all diving headfirst into the dueling circuit.” No hint of remorse colors Blackwood’s voice. He’s not even bothering to fake it, which would maybe be the decent thing to attempt.
“We all duel with regulations and referees in place—”
“But you choose to duel, nonetheless. And you can, because you’re all adults, legally speaking.
” Blackwood shrugs. “Your brother was an adult when he died. And he made his own decisions. That’s what being an adult means, you know.
You can do whatever stupid shit you want to and reap the consequences yourself.
” He chuckles darkly. “It’s what my Tamsin’s set out to do, after all. ”
“So to be clear, you’re not sorry.” My voice tightens against my will as my eyes burn. My ears ring. “You accept no responsibility for what happened.”
“To be honest?” Blackwood casts a pitying look at me. “I barely remember your brother. He was nothing special, at the end of the day. That sounds harsh, but it’s best that you know that. It does you no good to put him on a pedestal for the rest of your own life. Not when it could be so much more.”
“Like yours, you mean?” I draw myself up, straightening my spine.
If I’m going to be angry, I should at least weaponize it.
Let my anger be productive. Let my anger accomplish something in this awful piss-scented hellhole.
“Let’s be real, Blackwood, your reputation precedes you, but it’s not much of a reputation anymore, is it?
You’re old and washed up. The only thing keeping you relevant after retirement was your daughter’s talent, and now Tamsin’s gone and left you, too. You have nothing.”
I see the moment of danger, when Blackwood’s hands ball up into fists and the threat of violence sparks in his eyes. Before it can ignite, I smile at him again. “You and I do have one thing in common, though.”
“Do we now?”
“Sure. I’m surprised you didn’t bring it up sooner.
We’re both seconds who have been dumped by our champions.
” I scoff like this is a minor inconvenience and not a hideous embarrassment, and nod toward the dank, blood-stained ring a few yards away.
“You say you’ll offer me a chance to duel here.
Your den, your rules, no pesky regulations and referees getting in the way.
But you haven’t offered me an opponent.” I grin at Mateus Blackwood and spread my hands wide, open-chested, doing my best imitation of an easy target. “So why not take me on yourself?”
This is incredibly stupid. I should be preserving body, mind, and magical energy for the duel I’ve agreed to take against Tamsin.
Challenging her father is the last thing I should be doing.
Yet standing here, face-to-face with Mateus Blackwood, the smell of blood and piss in the air, I feel more alive than I have since the night Rook lost to Tamsin in the New York Magicians’ Arena.
I catch the glint of temptation in Blackwood’s eyes even as he tells me, as dismissively as he can, “I’m retired.”
I shrug. “Magicians come out of retirement all the time. Don’t know how to quit the game.
And you’re not exactly ancient and infirm.
Come on, old man. Isn’t that what you’ve really missed?
A chance to return to who you were. Mateus Blackwood, the terror.
Mateus Blackwood, the most bloodthirsty of duelists, win or lose. ”
“And what’s in it for you?” Suspicion colors Blackwood’s voice. “Even with the advantage of youth on your side, you’d be risking quite a lot doing this on my home turf, under rules of my choice.”
“What’s in it for me?” I laugh. I don’t quite mean to.
It just bursts out of me, a bitter little chuckle.
“You know, Blackwood, all these years, I’ve blamed you for Jamie’s death.
I must have thought about destroying you in his name a hundred million times, in a hundred million different scenarios.
I wanted to see you humiliated. I wanted to see your family wrecked, the same way you wrecked mine when you killed my brother.
“Then your daughter gave me exactly what I wanted. All on her own. I thought that would make me happy. I thought that would give me closure. But it just made me angrier. For years, I’ve replayed that night that Jamie died and wondered how he must have felt in that ring.
What it was like, that moment when he realized he wouldn’t be coming home. That you’d outplayed him.”
I pause. “So I guess, in a way, this is my chance to find out if I can succeed where my brother failed. My one chance to know how he must have felt that night in the ring and see if I fare any better.”
“And if you don’t?”
I spread my hands again, nonchalant. “Then I don’t. But I do want to make one thing very, very clear.”
“And what’s that?”
I make sure I look Blackwood dead in the eyes as I say the next part.
Ever since I held a gasping Lysander Rook’s life in my hands during that fateful fight in our hotel room, I’ve known exactly what I’m capable of.
I refuse to forget it now. “You’re not sorry for your part in Jamie’s death.
You’ve made it obvious that you don’t blame yourself at all.
That’s all fine and dandy. But if I don’t make you sorry before our time in the ring is done, I’m going to give you the same death that Alexei gave my brother. ”
“And if you can’t?”
I hold my hands out, baring my chest toward him. Vulnerable. “Then you might as well execute me in that arena like an animal and laugh about it, too. I’m not above dying like my brother, either.”
I’m not sure how Blackwood’s going to react. I’m braced for anger or maybe a scoff of disbelief. He must recognize that accepting my challenge poses a risk. I’m a lot younger with more recent experience fighting in a magicians’ arena. I’m by no means an easy mark.
But Blackwood is still an arcane master with years of experience on me. He probably still sees me as an arrogant whelp, a girl who can be put in her place with a few well-placed blows. A child that he can bloody up as an example to any others who might dare defiance against him.
At the end of the day, Mateus Blackwood is still, at his core, a vicious son of a bitch who built a career on breaking other magicians as brutally as possible. And I’ve goaded him here, on his turf. He won’t be able to resist the opportunity to punish me.
“You’re full of surprises all right, Samantha Chan,” crows my brother’s murderer. His eyes glitter with anticipation as they meet mine. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”