Page 16 of Villains Never Die

“Name I came up with for you. I’ve got Tea Pot, Fish and Chips, and Posh, if you like one of those better.” He cut me off when I tried to argue with him. “Okay, tell me this…how did you survive the bullet?” He leaned slightly on the counter and cocked his head to one side, reading something in my face; not my reaction, but maybe trying to decide if a truth or a lie would come next.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, which I won’t, by the way.” My drink was only half gone, and I sipped it faster.

“Are you immortal?”

“No.”

He flagged the bartender for a second beer, which was my cue to finish before this could turn into a second drink. I threw back the rest of my glass in one burning gulp and licked my lower lip.

“There. One drink. What’s this exciting secret you’ve been keeping?”

Rook glanced around the room, which was quickly filling up until there were no seats at the tables and people crowded thebar close to us. He beckoned me forward with two fingers and I leaned in to hear his whisper.

“It was a good kiss.”

I snapped back on my barstool and glared at him, slamming down my glass so hard that the bottom cracked. The bartender froze where he was shaking a drink and started moving in our direction. Before he could reach us, I threw cash on the counter to cover my drink and a larger tip than I owed him, and stormed out of the room. I didn’t look back to see if Rook followed me.

Chapter Seven

He didn’t follow me, and that was the second time I ran from him. I sat in my office, staring blankly at my desk. No paperwork. No laptop. I had spent two hours trying to do actual work—inventories and lists of buyers and requests for favors—all the mundane things that I did every day. I liked my routine, my never-ending list of the same tasks over and over again.

I did not like interruptions.

I did not want my life shaken up.

Rook did it anyway.

You’re going to get back at him, aren’t you?

Is it going to be bloody? You hate that.

I bet he’s going to kill him this time.

No, he won’t. He liked that kiss too.

“Are you bored? Looking for some drama?” I sneered into the empty room.

The spirits had a point, though. Payback was the only answer to the monumental way he fucked with my head.

“Fine,” I said to them. “Tell me who his best fighter is.”

We don’t know.

“Then find out,” I said, shooing them with my hand, even though there were no living bodies to shoo. If they were going to yammer on all the time, they could at least make themselves useful.

A moment later, Gray walked in, a leather coat hanging to his waist. He looked me up and down once and read me without having to ask.

“You’re stressed.”

“There’s a killer on the loose and I might be a target, and…” I shook my head. “Find out who Rook’s best fighter is. I’m too recognizable if I go to his club. I need a name and a schedule of when he’s due to be in that cage. Find out who he’s fighting and if he has a rival.”

“Of course,” he said. “Which do you want me to take care of first—the killer or the fighter?”

I hesitated. I should prioritize not being murdered, but I wouldn’t be able to think clearly about that until I took care of my other problem.

“I’ve got the first one handled. Go to Rook’s club. Please,” I added. “The fights there start at eleven.”

We both glanced at the antique clock on a shelf at the same time. It was only 9:45, which meant he could go tonight, the sooner the better.