Page 53 of Villains Never Die

I rolled my eyes with a dismissive snort, but humored him anyway, my voice coming out dry. “I’m Austin, I have a surname so bland no one needs to know it. I don’t eat take out, but I would literally murder someone for good home fries. It might be the best thing Americans have invented.”

“See?” he said. “That’s interesting."

"Why 'Rook'?"

"Chess—obviously—but I liked that it's a bird too, and it sounded good."

“Where did you learn to curse?” I asked. The question had occasionally poked at me since the night he broke my wrist. “It’s not exactly standard magic.”

“I’m a really competent magician,” he said.

“Yet you rely on fists and weapons.”

“Magic is a crutch.”

“—a gift,” I finished at the same time as him.

“Strip all that power away, and you have nothing,” he said. “I want it all—magic and physical strength. Magic didn’t save me when human kids were beating the shit out of me in high school.”

Because he wasn’t allowed to use it. He couldn’t reveal what he was, though I’m sure he was tempted.

“I went to a boarding school for magicians,” I said. “I didn’t have to hide what I was. I’m…” I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry you had to.”

Magic came from the soul, some inner force like a battery of power. It was inseparable from our DNA, the advantage we hadover humans. Without magic, we were nothing. To hide that…the thought was unbearable.

“Yeah, well, I don’t here. Don’t frown like that. You’re too attractive to start wrinkling in your twenties.”

That made me laugh, genuinely, so fully my hand slipped over the chicken I was cutting into cubes and—

“Fuck!” I hissed, dropping the knife. Red welled out of the slice in my index finger and dribbled all over dinner.

Rook’s hand shot out and grasped the same wrist he’d broken, holding my hand up so he could see how deep the cut was. He snatched a dishrag off the counter and pressed it against it, making me wince when the skin pinched and more blood oozed out. I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see it and took a slow, deep breath.

“You, of all people, are scared of blood?” he laughed.

“I’m not afraid of it; I just don’t like it.” Maybe it wouldn’t bother me so much if I hadn’t had most of my mother’s on my hands when I was so young.

“This is going to sting,” Rook said, and that was the only warning he gave before he pulsed warm magic through my hand and the cut burned so hot I had to grit my teeth before it sealed itself. Rook tightened his grip on my arm to make sure I wouldn’t pull away until it was done.

“There,” he said, rubbing his thumb up and down the blue veins of my wrist.

“You studied healing?” I asked, staring at the thin scar where he’d mended the cut.

“People tend to bleed a lot around me.” He finally let go of me, but my arm hovered in the air a moment longer, as if I was trying to hold on to the feeling of his touch.

“Dinner’s ruined,” I muttered, glaring down at the blood-spattered chicken.

“Which means we are ordering takeout. You need to broaden your horizons, England.” He laughed when I scowled at him across the island and leaned in to kiss the frown off my face. When he pulled away, he said, “I know a Thai place. It might surprise you.”

***

“You win,” I admitted, finishing off a carton of noodles. “It’s fucking delicious.”

“Don’t look so mad,” he said, gathering it all and putting it away in my fridge like rummaging about in my kitchen was absolutely normal. “So what’s with that guy who ran?”

I groaned and pressed my palm to my forehead. “Teddy Abner. He was supposed to retrieve payment from a mutual acquaintance for me. Instead, he took the money and ran. My people have tracked him down twice, and both times he slipped through their fingers.”

“Sounds annoying.” He closed the fridge door and flopped aggressively onto my couch. The leather creaked under his arse and I bit my tongue instead of telling him to go easy on my furniture.