Cruel Illusions by Margie Fuston

Author:Margie Fuston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry Books
Published: 2022-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

I slide my fingers down my borrowed leather pants, surprised for the millionth time at their softness. It doesn’t make them any more comfortable, though. Xander wears leather pants too and his signature shirtless vest.

“Are you sure we both need to wear leather?”

Xander only chuckles.

I take a deep, shaky breath. “Seems like overkill.”

“You’ll do fine. You’re ready for this.”

I am. Roman made me better. I ignore the sickening twist in my stomach.

I hate that he stood there and offered to let me kill him. It would have been so much easier if he’d been angry or defensive. But all I saw on his face was hurt and sadness and shame, and the bit of hope when he explained—and the way that hope crumbled like dust after I listened and still told him to leave.

Aristelle receives her applause and exits without saying good luck on her way by. I guess I’m in the doghouse in her book.

My hands sweat. I need to focus. Roman doesn’t have anything to do with why I started this. It was always about magic and revenge, and the people I’m with right now.

Xander takes one of my hands and leads me out to the center of the stage beneath a harsh light secretly trying to illuminate all my flaws and not my talent. Only the dim lights above the audience’s heads illuminate their waiting faces. I pretend I’m performing for a room of skeletons instead of people. Pretty sure you’re supposed to imagine them naked, but this seems like a better option.

Xander drops my hand and pulls out a deck of red cards, shuffling them quickly before the audience. “We’re going to need a volunteer.”

Hands shoot up and Xander gives me a little nod. I step forward and scan the faces in the front before choosing.

A young man darts up onto the stage, pulling his skinny jeans back up after he climbs the stairs. Xander hands him the deck. “Normal deck, right?”

The man shuffles through them so fast he can’t possibly see them and hands them back.

“Do you like magic…?”

“Andy.”

“Do you like magic, Andy?” Xander repeats. He captures names so easily.

“Sure.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

The audience chuckles.

Xander fans the cards in front of him. “Pick a card, Andy. You know what, pick two cards, Andy, just because I like you.”

A few more people laugh. Laughter is good. The applause will be more generous at the end.

“Show them to the crowd, but don’t show me. Don’t show her either.” He turns and tosses me a wink. “She likes to cheat.” Andy follows the directions. “Now put them back anywhere you’d like. That’s it, Andy. Perfect.”

Xander shuffles the cards, stepping back against a black board we painted and placed earlier. He fans the cards out face-first and holds them against the board. “Now, I’m not sure what cards you picked, Andy, but my lovely assistant knows. Would you pick his card out?” he asks me.

“Gladly.” I’m up. I reach down to my ankle and pull out one of three long, beautiful black knives.

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