2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
It had been two weeks and no one could tell me where Rook’s club was.
Aside from obsessing about finding it, everything was business as usual.
There were five requests for rare artifacts that weren’t so rare I’d have trouble tracking them down.
Three deals made. Drugs distributed at the hottest clubs.
And Calvin disappeared, quickly, quietly, without police interference.
I had a fluid system, and between Gray and myself, there was little interruption to the machine I kept running day-to-day.
“Did you hear about the body they found by the river?” Gray asked one morning, the second I walked into my office, before I even had a cup of tea.
“You expect me to keep track of everyone who is murdered in this entire city?” I raised my eyebrows, sat in my chair, and Gray handed me the exact cup of tea I was craving.
Five years in America had not swayed me to give up tea for coffee.
Some things could be pried from my cold, dead hands, and that would be a long time from now.
“This one was a magician.”
“You’re not piquing my interest, Gray.” I shuffled through some papers, looking for the list of new inventory in my warehouse. It was there somewhere—
“Weird killing—they found him with his tongue and both his hands removed, and there was a note.”
I glanced up from my paperwork and gestured for him to continue.
“It said, ‘the hubris of magic.’”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s disappointingly vague.”
Gray shrugged. “Just thought it was worth mentioning. You like to stay in the know.”
“What I want to know is where the fuck Rook is hiding his club, so I can kill the bastard.”
Gray never flinched when I threatened murder. It was one of many reasons I liked him so much. He pulled a business card from his pocket and laid it out on the desk in front of me. A black chess piece—a rook—glared up at me against a white background.
“Good thing you have me, then.” Gray grinned and tapped his fingers on it. I turned it over and there was a black bird on the other side.
“How does this help?” I asked, noting that there was no contact information of any kind.
“Needs blood.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I scoffed, sitting back in my chair. “Cheap blood magic. What a waste.”
Not so cheap that I wouldn’t give my blood to find him.
Blood magic carried certain risks, but I was positive Rook wasn’t so powerful that I had to worry about them.
I picked up an ornate letter opener and pricked my finger until a scarlet bead balanced on the tip.
I stared at that drop of crimson one beat too long, my vision swimming slightly, before I pressed it to the card.
An address in black, typewritten letters unfurled across the length of the business card. A smile unfurled similarly on my face.
“I’ve got him now.” I held the card up to the light from the floor to ceiling windows and memorized the address. “This ends tonight.”
“Do you want backup?” Gray asked.
“No, this one is mine. I want to make sure he pays before he dies,” I said, still staring at that card, a tendril of excitement crawling through me. “I’ll wait until the fights are over for the night, and then I’ll pay our friend a visit.”
I rubbed the small, round scar where Rook’s bullet hit me. Maybe I’d shoot him somewhere agonizing, so he could feel it before he died.
So he could feel exactly how much it cost to steal a life from me before his flitted away.
***
The street was deserted at well past two in the morning. The dingy building was locked with chains on the outside. Its windows were boarded. For all intents and purposes, Rook’s club was just another abandoned building in an unsavory part of the city.
I think this might be beneath him.
Better not step in that vomit and ruin his nice shoes.
…looks grumpier than usual.
I circled the building, ignoring the voices.
It was large, and I thought it might once have been a warehouse.
The chains were locked with a spell instead of a padlock, but they fell away after a few tries at undoing the magic.
The door creaked when I opened it, but the inside of the building was empty of people.
What a shithole.
A bar hugged most of one wall. The bar top was still sticky with rings left by glasses, as if no one bothered to wipe it down when the night ended. There was a counter further in, where I imagined people placed bets on fights.
In the center of it all was a massive chain-link cage surrounded by bleachers and areas for people to stand.
I moved toward it, and my shoes kicked up dust from the dirt floor, swirling it onto my pant legs.
I peered inside and my jaw tightened. There he was, shining with sweat and beating a punching bag until it split at the seams.
I was silent as I moved toward the cage door. I glanced around for guards, but we seemed to be alone. Cameras winked around the room; they caught sight of me, but no one swarmed me, so I doubted anyone was monitoring them.
He was sloppy.
Or cocky.
Either way, it would get him killed tonight.
I prowled through the cage door, the sound of his fists covering my footsteps. A tower of fire erected behind me, crackling the dusty floor. No way to the door. No way out.
Rook jumped backward, moving to see me around the punching bag. His eyes traveled up and down my body, and I noticed again, as the firelight danced in them, that bright, sparkling shade of blue.
“You’re supposed to be dead.” He rolled his shoulders, composing himself and shaking off the startled look he had a moment ago. He stood taller and broadened his shoulders, crossing his arms at me. “Get out of my club.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I said. “That bullet cost me something precious, something I can’t get back. Not to mention, you’ve been stepping on my toes.”
“Stepping on your toes?” He chuckled, but hedged to one side, a tension coiling in his body. He was readying himself for a fight. “I own the shittiest part of this city. You can’t—”
“You own nothing. It’s all mine.”
“Wow, does that big ego come with the fancy suit?” His hands flexed, and I eyed his fingers, waiting for him to cast magic.
“No, it comes from actually being important,” I said through gritted teeth.
He was all bulging muscle and tough layers, and I thought if he took a swing at me I might go down, so I kept enough distance between us to cast and nothing more.
I kept myself in shape, but I’d seen the way he’d pulverized that heavy bag when I walked in.
Then I realized—too late—he was insulting me to distract me.
His hand moved so fast that I didn’t have time to react to the gust of air that hit me like a punch and knocked me to the dirt floor.
Grit scraped my palms and wedged itself under my fingernails.
I roared and pushed to my feet, skipping niceties and blasting curses rapid-fire at the man.
He dodged each of them, but his footing faltered.
While he was distracted, a curse knocked him in the face and blood spurted from his nose.
I cringed at the sight of it dripping over his lips.
What a waste. He might have been handsome if we weren’t trying to kill each other.
Brawny wasn’t usually my type, but those crystal blue eyes and that square jaw had a certain appeal.
It was truly a shame I was going to have to break that face and watch the life drain from his eyes.
He lunged at me, nostrils flaring as he tried to breathe through his swelling nose. The force of his body knocked me back a few steps, and I had to pulse magic through my limbs to hold him off.
“What’s wrong?” I gritted out. “Are you too incompetent a magician to fight me with magic?”
He laughed in my face. “I’m not a pussy who needs it to fight. I didn’t think you would be so weak.”
This close to him, he smelled like salty sweat and a citrus cologne or body wash that was probably too cheap for me to name.
I inhaled deeper than I meant to and the smell of it flooded my senses, coaxing a disturbing feeling.
My stomach tightened and my dick stirred halfway.
My brows drew together as I tried to make sense of the feeling, and that was the window Rook needed—one unguarded second.
My hold on him loosened and he caught the underside of my jaw with his fist. I went down hard, the room flashing for a moment as I tumbled to the ground a second time.
He landed a kick to my ribs before throwing himself at me, pounding his fists into me twice more before I rolled from beneath him and push to my knees.
I flung my hand up and conjured ropes from nowhere to wrap around his neck.
I wasn’t a pussy for not using magic; he was weak for ignoring his gifts, if his paltry spells could be called that.
I had no respect for a man who didn’t use every resource at his disposal.
No wonder this maggot had so little power in the city.
Although he killed me by surprise, I was beginning to think he was no opponent at all.
The ropes dragged him toward one wall of the cage, his back clashing against the metal so that it rattled with impact.
He clawed at his neck, seeking air as his face turned red.
Too easy, but strangulation would do. A clean, bloodless death.
I stomped across the cage to him and nearly screamed at the fact that my suit was now covered in grime.
Rook glared up at me, fingers digging uselessly at the rope. He tried to kick me, but I stood just out of range until all his limbs stopped trying so hard. Gasping, he stared up at me, and there was a very different look in those sapphire eyes.
Complete terror, washing away all rage, quickly succumbing to acceptance. He knew I’d won. I crouched down and leaned close to his face.
“You should have stayed the fuck out of my city,” I snarled.
His mouth moved, but no words came out, only satisfying choking and gagging that meant he had little time left.
I watched the helpless expression that took over as his face went slack, but the fear had faded.
This was it; the moment I would watch him die, and all the bullshit he’d put me through over the past few weeks would end.
One more power-hungry opponent whose life I doused like a candle.
His face turned blue from lack of oxygen. He sat limply against the cage wall, all the fight and fire gone. I’d won. I always won.
So why wasn't his broken body and spirit more satisfying?
He stared at me then with complete surrender, like an animal that knows it has met its end. His rosy lips, tinged now with blue, parted on a final breath that ghosted across my face. He blinked slowly once.
Temptation.
That was the urge I couldn’t explain as those lips turned bloodless and his eyes surrendered.
Some catastrophes in life happen against our will—train wrecks we’re forced into, decisions made without our consent.
Not to me, though, not since my mum died.
I was deliberate about every decision, which is why—of the two of us—I think I was the most surprised when I leaned forward and kissed him.
His lips were still warm, still full of life as his drained away.
The ropes loosened as our mouths met, and he took one enormous breath, as if he were trying to steal it from me.
But he didn’t push me away.
He kissed me back, tentative at first, then with fervor, as if this was the kiss that brought him back to life in a fairy tale. His tongue slid against my lower lip then, and I sprang back, breathless and wide-eyed. We stared mutely at one another as I stumbled back a step.
And ran.