Page 20 of Villains Never Die

***

On Thursdays, Gray oversaw tasks at the warehouse that provided space for most of my black market business dealings. Rare spells, cursed objects, banned books, and exotic antiques filled the building, and he was in charge of inventory and preparing for transactions over the weekend.

It was my night to check in at my nightclub, Avalon, which was never too busy midweek. The crowd was a mix of humans and magicians, and I sat down at the bar entirely sober to watch them mingle. I had a rule about never drinking at my own bar. Most of the humans were unaware they were in supernatural company, but observing them with sober clarity still gave me a good idea of how business was going.

They danced under colorful lights and the enormous, sparkling chandelier that reflected them around the room. Half of them were on drugs that my people manufactured, although usually only the humans partook. Most magicians were unwilling to risk the unpredictable effects drugs had on their magic.

Danny was the only bartender tonight. I didn’t interact with him regularly—Gray did all the hiring for Avalon—but I knew the names of everyone who worked for me. He nodded respectfully as he passed by me at the bar, knowing better than to offer me a drink. Tonight, I contemplated one, just to celebrate my victory over Rook, but changed my mind. Now that he was out of theway, my to-do list had shifted instead of getting shorter. My priorities were tracking down and neutralizing whoever killed Pope and Blackwell and spending my slim windows of spare time on Project Mori.

You’re being watched. Six o’clock.

The spirit’s voice whispered in my ear. I made no hurry to turn around, but rotated with deliberate slowness on my barstool. I leaned back against the counter on my elbows and scanned the room, searching for the person who was out of place. They weren’t difficult to find, considering they’d broken Avalon’s dress code with their ripped jeans and blue hoodie, which meant they didn’t come through the front door past the bouncers. I couldn’t make out their face under the hood before they noticed me watching and backed away toward the lavatory.

I rose from my seat and straightened my tie. With two fingers, I motioned Danny over and asked him to alert security to our guest. I crossed the dance floor, people parting for me without really knowing why, but the man in the hoodie didn’t run off. He stood in the shadows and stared at me with an inadequate amount of fear. I was halfway across the room when the lights caught his blue eyes. I moved faster as he raised a hand and a groan sounded above me.

I wasn’t fast enough. A tinkling rattled overhead, then the severing of metal. I jumped forward as the chandelier crashed down on the dance floor, glass blasting in every direction. I slid across the polished floor on my stomach and shards sprayed over the back of my pant legs. The patrons of the club screamed, scattering away from the disaster. I lifted my head in time to see Rook smirk at me from across the room. He waved and then turned again.

I scrambled to my feet, shouting at the nearest security guard to take care of the dancers instead of dealing with the intruder. Rook was mine. I ran after him, leaving a trail of glass as itrained off the fabric of my clothes. I burst through the metal back door and blasted a gust of wind that knocked him off his feet. He skidded across the pavement, and when he stood, there was a hole in one knee of his jeans, leaking blood onto the denim.

He erected a shield around himself to stop the fire that came next as I attempted to incinerate him. When he lowered it, he shot back a curse I hadn’t expected, and I barely dodged it in time.

“I’m going to kill you!” I seethed, stalking forward until his back hit the bricks of the adjacent building.

He chuckled and clocked me in the jaw. My head snapped sideways and I lost my balance. “You already fucked that up the first time, so I doubt it.”

I steadied my footing and swung back at him, but he blocked my fist halfway to his face, gripping it in his hand, his fingers locking around my knuckles. He spun me around so that my back was to him and locked his arm around my throat. As he pulled me against him, I realized for the first time that I was an inch or two taller.

“Do you have any idea how much money you cost me?” He squeezed the crook of his arm against my windpipe and my neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. His breath was hot against the side of my face.

“You almost killed me tonight,” I gritted out through the strain on my throat. I clawed at his forearm.

“You weren’t actually going to die,” he said. “Stop being so dramatic.”

I stopped struggling against him, and he loosened his hold.

“That’s how it works, right?” He let go and shoved me away from him. I turned, glaring and smoothing my rumpled jacket. “You can’t die, can you?”

“It’s not that simple, and it costs me.”

“Costs you what?”

This? This was too dangerous. He could kill me, kiss me, fuck with me however he wanted, but he could never know the truth.

Which meant this time I had to end him.

The curse hummed in my palm, where my arm hung limply at my side, and I wondered vaguely why I hesitated. Rook’s eyes flicked to it, and he took a step forward.

“You won’t.”

“Why not?”

He stepped toe-to-toe with me and wrapped his strong hand around my wrist. The dark magic fizzled out. “Because you’re still thinking about that kiss. But Austin?”

“What?” This close, I could smell citrus again.

He tightened his hand and wrenched my wrist at an unnatural angle. Bones snapped.

“Don’t fuck with my business again,” he growled when my scream died off.