Page 60 of Villains Never Die

Rook.

veilknight.

Wesley Lake.

The Death collection still set to arrive from Prague, and if I were lucky, the grimoire.

A killer whose intentions were unclear.

Too much all at once. The list was getting out of control.

I needed a distraction.

10 PM. I won’t lose this time.

Rook: You will, but I can think of a few ways to make you feel better about it.

I adjusted myself under the table and opened my laptop to check my email. Gray sent me ten pages of things that had already been cataloged, and I matched them against the list theseller had originally sent, verifying that everything was there. But the more I tried to focus on one task, the more I felt the rest of them swirling around me like a storm. Soon, something would have to change.

***

Pricing the items kept me busy until ten minutes past when I was supposed to meet Rook. I was never late.

Stress was unraveling me.

When I went upstairs to call him and apologize, I opened the door to find him already seated at the chessboard, half-dressed and drinking my scotch. He passed me a glass the second I crossed the room.

“You look like you need it.”

I gulped down the entire thing and winced at enduring the burn all at once.

“You can’t just waltz in like you live here,” I said, trying very hard not to lose my attention in the grooves between his abdominal muscles. I could trace each one with my tongue and—

“Yes, I can. Now sit your ass down and have another drink.”

“Bossing me around in my own home too?” I quirked an eyebrow, sat across from him, and passed him the glass for a refill.

He handed it back to me and the overhead lights caught the pale amber liquid that matched Rook’s row of chess pieces. He made his opening move with no preamble.

“What kept you so long?” he asked without looking at me. His eyes were fixed on the board, several moves ahead whirling in the darkening blue.

“New shipment at my warehouse,” I answered, moving a pawn. “A huge lot came in from Russia this week, and big shipments are always a nightmare to organize.”

“Sounds boring.”

“And your work is thrilling?” Our eyes met across the board.

“It’s steady and predictable unless one of my fightersdiesin a match. That’s a hassle.”

“Don’t hold a grudge. You have no idea how much it cost me to clean up your mess at Avalon.”

He smirked at me with a knight in his hand. “Are we going to bicker or play chess?”

We did not speak for the next hour and twenty minutes as I gained control of the board, only to get a false sense of victory before I lost spectacularly.

“Bloody hell!” I roared, my fingers itching to overturn the board. “How?How?You’re cheating.”

“I don’t need to cheat. Three-time state champion and conqueror ofyou.”