Roman sighs so softly I can barely hear him, and I wonder if part of him wishes I had just turned around and walked away.

“I didn’t end up in the competition because I hated vampires,” he says. “I know troupes sometimes look for people whose lives have been destroyed by one. Revenge will make people do wild things.”

He nods at me. I don’t like that he sees that desperation in me. The way he says it makes it sound like it’s something to take advantage of, like I’m being used.

“My sister and I came from a wealthy family in New York. We started doing magic tricks as a way to piss off our parents, but then we fell in love with it.” His teeth flash in the night, and I realize he’s actually grinning at the memory of it. It’s short-lived though. “We got good. We were performing, and a troupe found us. They offered me an apprenticeship. I wouldn’t do it without Beatrice, but they knew another troupe out in California that needed an apprentice too, so we said yes. We both signed on because we loved the gasps a crowd makes when you pull off the impossible. We loved the applause. And we loved pissing off our parents.”

“Why don’t you quit?” I ask. “Go home to your sister.”

“I can’t,” he says.

I can sense the hurt there. But it doesn’t quite add up. He hates my troupe because Beatrice didn’t get to be an immortal magician, but Roman doesn’t seem like the kind of person to crave immortality enough to ruin his relationship with his sister. Why would he waste his time taunting Xander? Why not go home and give up the thing that caused the rift?

I think I know. “Your sister’s not back home.”

He shakes his head.

“She died.”

He gives me a short, sharp nod, like he doesn’t want to acknowledge those words. Still, he says nothing.

“During the competition?”

Another nod.

That makes more sense, but the revelation causes my stomach to feel like it’s being tossed at sea. “Apprentices die during this?” Nobody mentioned that. I was imagining a more intense version of America’s Got Talent, but not one where I could actually die.

“I told you there weren’t trick blades.”

“I thought you were trying to scare me.”

“I was, but you don’t seem to have a sensible bone in your body,” he grumbles. He looks at me with an odd mix of annoyance and admiration. “You have to push yourself to extremes to win. The Society figures you need to be a little reckless to hunt vampires.”

“Do a lot of apprentices die?”

“You should still consider leaving. You’re not too far in yet.”