My betraying thoughts wander to his firm hand steadying me after the performance, and then the careful way he tucked my knife back into my boot. My cheeks heat with how foolish I’m being, and I take a deep breath before answering. “And what’s that?”

“I don’t think you care about being a magician at all. You want to kill vampires.”

Killing vampires is more important to me, and for a while that was all I wanted, but now I can see another future using these new skills to make a life for myself.

“They told me it was too dangerous, that I needed to have one of those cuffs first.”

“Not if you know what you’re doing.”

“And you’ll teach me that, too?”

“I’ll teach you everything.”

“Why?” I don’t try to hide the suspicion in my voice.

He sighs. “Because I scared off their last apprentice. I’m the reason you’re not trained properly, and I don’t want to live with that kind of guilt.”

“That’s not really on you.”

“It is,” he bites out.

I shrug. I don’t want to try too hard to absolve whatever guilt he’s feeling. His offer is too tempting. He’s giving me something I want now—no competition, just training. But that means getting closer to him, and that seems to have its own dangers.

“Xander won’t like it.”

“Xander doesn’t need to know.”

“What about Willow?”

“Aren’t you best friends or something?” he grumbles.

The wound on my hand is gone. All that’s left is smooth, unmarred flesh. I don’t want to learn that particular skill, but I know he can teach me others. I can practice with Roman and see how it goes.

“Yes,” I say before I can stop myself. “Yes.”

“Good.” He doesn’t smile. Whatever he gets out of this arrangement, it certainly won’t be joy.

CHAPTER 14

Roman drives down the dark, curving road that hugs the coast. Willow’s in the front seat, singing along to “Cardigan” for the third time in a row.

Xander wanted me to perform with him tonight, but I begged for more training first, claiming I was nervous to get onstage again after last time. It’s not really a lie. I feel the tiniest bit of guilt, but I’m not foolish enough to put all my trust in one thing when Roman’s offering another way to get what I want. A backup. I can’t turn that down.

The beach we end up at is dark and secluded, and we’re the only car parked along the cliff side. Standing on the edge of what must be a steep path down, I swallow loud enough to hear. It’s so dark I can’t even see the water.

“Willow,” Roman says.