Cold Burn of Magic (28 page)

“I know Victor Draconi murdered her,” Claudia said, her voice as cold and flat as my heart felt. “He'd heard a rumor about Devon's compulsion magic, and he wanted to see if it was true. His men were the ones who attacked us that day. They would have killed me and kidnapped Devon, if not for your mother.”

I frowned. “But that was four years ago. Hasn't Victor tried again? Hasn't he sent more men after Devon?”

“No. Not since that day.”

A thought occurred to me. “That's why everyone thinks that Devon doesn't have any magic. That's why he doesn't use his compulsion Talent in front of anyone. To keep Victor from trying again.”

She nodded. “I managed to find the source of the rumor and . . . persuade him to tell Victor that he'd been mistaken.”

I wondered how painful that sort of persuasion had been, but I didn't ask.

“Victor circled around for a while, but he eventually came to believe that Devon didn't have any magic, so he moved on. Devon has been safe ever since. Until Grant, at least.”

I nodded and dropped my hand to my mom's sword, tracing over the star in the hilt with my index finger. Her sapphire ring sparkled and flashed at the motion.

“Did Victor kill Serena himself or have it done?”

I'd expected the question, but I still tensed, and my hand curled around the hilt of the sword again.

“Himself,” I whispered, thinking of that bloody silk handkerchief fluttering into the gutter. “Blake was there, too.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No,” I snapped in a harsh voice. “You don't get to hear about that. Not today. Maybe not ever.”

Claudia eyed my tight face, stiff shoulders, and hand clenched around the sword. “Very well. Do you blame me and Devon for her death?”

“Yes.”

She pinched her lips together, and hurt flickered in her eyes before she could hide it—hurt and the same deep, aching, bone-weary guilt that Devon always felt.

I sighed. “No, I don't blame you. Not anymore. Saving you and Devon . . . it's just what my mom did. What she was hardwired to do. She was a good thief, but Mo said she was better at protecting people. He was right. If it hadn't been you, it would have been somebody else.”

“But it
was
us,” Claudia said. “And I am sorrier about that than you will ever know.”

I shrugged. Sorry never changed anything.

“I knew that Serena had a daughter, although I didn't know your name. But after your mom died, I looked everywhere for you,” she said in a quiet voice. “I had the guards scouring the Midway for lost or hurt girls. I searched for weeks, but there was never a sign of you.”

“I didn't want to be found. Mo helped me with that. He forged some documents with the Merriweather name and put me into foster care. That didn't work out so well, so I decided to look after myself.”

Claudia gazed at me. “Why didn't you come here? Why didn't you come to
me
? Surely, Serena told you I would help you, that I would protect you, no matter what.”

“She did. After the attack in the Midway, on our way back to our apartment, she told me if something happened and we got separated, I should come here to you, that you would take me in.”

“So why didn't you?”

“Because I didn't want to have anything to do with you,” I snapped. “Not when you and Devon were the reason she was dead.”

Once again, that guilt flared in her eyes, and once again, I felt like a total bitch.

“Look,” I said. “I'm sorry. I don't blame you for her death. Really, I don't. Not anymore. But I don't want to get caught up in your world, either. In your fights and feuds with the other Families. I've been here a little more than a week, and I've had more than enough of that already. I'll be lucky if Blake doesn't corner me in a dark alley someday and beat me to death.”

Claudia clasped her hands together. “Yes, the Draconis were something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Victor is planning something. Some move against you and the other Families.”

She shrugged. “He's been doing that for as long as I remember. But you're right. This is something . . . different. Something . . . darker. Which is where you come in.”

“Really? Why is that?”

Claudia looked at me. “Because I want you to stay with the Family, Lila. I want you to truly become a Sinclair. And most of all, I want you to help me destroy Victor Draconi.”

I
laughed. “Me? Join a Family for real?
Your
Family? And take out Victor Draconi? I can't decide which idea is more ridiculous.”

Her lips pinched together again, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I assure you I am perfectly serious.”

“Why?” I sniped. “So I can die for you like my mom did?”

It was a low, nasty blow, and Claudia winced before she could stop herself. But she recovered quickly.

“You claim to be a thief,” she said. “Yet you've managed to get out of one sticky situation after another over the past several days, with no thought for yourself or your own safety. Not to mention the fact that you've saved my son's life time and time again. That is the kind of bravery and selflessness that I want in a member of the Sinclair Family.”

“I
am
a thief,” I snapped. “A very smart one. So why would I want to put my life on the line every single day for a bunch of people I don't even know? Who don't matter to me?”

“But you
do
know us, and we
do
matter to you,” Claudia said, her eyes glittering. “You know Felix and Oscar and Angelo and Reginald and the guards. And you know Devon.”

I snorted. “Something you obviously don't approve of.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not initially. I supposed that I wanted to see how much like your mother you were.”

My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged again. “I wanted to see if you were loyal. If you would hold up your end of our deal. If you would put other people first, like she did.”

“I am a
thief,
” I repeated. “Not some bodyguard, not your soldier, and especially not some assassin. Find someone else, anyone else but me.”

Claudia got to her feet and started pacing. “There is no one else. No one else who can help me do what needs to be done, and especially no one else I can fully trust.”

I laughed again, the sound teetering on a sneer. “Me? You're going to trust
me
? I swiped silverware from your tea set the very first day I met you. And you think
I'm
trustworthy? Lady, you are off your rocker.”

“The Draconis have spies everywhere, including in our own Family. And after what happened with Grant . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Ah. So I'm the lesser of two evils then.”

“More like many evils.”

My eyes narrowed. “And what makes you think I wouldn't sell you out to some other Family?”

“Because if Serena told you anything at all, then she told you how dangerous the Draconis are, especially Victor.”

I thought of the absolute cold, utter emptiness I had seen in Victor's heart during the Families' dinner. The cruelty that radiated off Blake like heat off the sun. And Deah . . . well, I didn't know much about Deah, but she was one of
them
. When push came to shove, she'd most likely fall in line with the rest of her Family.

“Okay, I agree that the Draconis are dangerous.” I shook my head. “But there's nothing I can do about that.”

“But don't you want to avenge Serena?” Claudia asked in a soft voice. “Don't you want to make Victor and Blake pay for what they did to your mother?”

My gaze locked onto my mom's tombstone, and the pain of losing her hit me as hard as the moment I first opened my bedroom door and realized she was dead, tortured, murdered.

“Yes,” I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. “I want to make them pay for what they did to her. But I'm also smart enough to know I can't do it by myself.”

“You don't have to do it by yourself,” Claudia countered. “Not anymore. Not with me behind you. Not with the entire Family behind you.”

So just think of what you can do here, with all the magic, money, power, and resources of the Sinclair Family at your disposal,
Mo's voice whispered in my mind.

It was a tempting idea—so very, very tempting. Just like Claudia's first offer to be Devon's bodyguard had been. That offer had almost gotten me killed. Going up against the Draconis would surely be the death of me.

I shook my head again and surged to my feet. “Mo was right. I saved Devon, so we're going to forget all about me working for you. I'm going back inside to pack my things, then I'm leaving. Don't follow me, don't try to find me, and don't even
think
about asking Mo where I am. Just leave me alone, and I'll do the same for you. Okay?”

I started down the aisle, heading out of the cemetery. I'd just put my hand on the wrought-iron gate to push it open, when Claudia spoke again.

“I know about your magic, Lila,” she said, her voice more steel than soft now. “About your soulsight . . . and your transference power.”

That was enough to stop me cold. I whirled around to face her.

Claudia slowly approached me, her green gaze level with mine. “Serena once told me that both Talents run in your family. Transference is one of the rarest Talents. A once-in-a-generation kind of power, if you believe some folks. People have tried to kidnap Devon to get his compulsion Talent. But
your
magic, Lila? People would do anything to get your transference Talent—
anything
. Especially someone like Victor Draconi.”

The truth of her words made my blood run colder than any magic ever had. It was the very thing my mom had drilled into my head over and over again—to hide my transference Talent no matter what.

“Victor collects Talents, you know,” Claudia continued in that same quiet, steely voice. “When one of his guards or a member of his Family displeases him, he doesn't just kill them. Oh no. That would be too merciful. Instead, he rips their magic out of them and takes it for himself. He has quite a few Talents by now. That's why he's so powerful, and that's why all the heads of the other Families are afraid of him. Because they know that he could kill them all, if he really wanted to. And the worst part is that Victor knows it, too—and it won't be long before he finally does something about it.”

She tilted her head to the side, making her auburn hair spill over her shoulder. “And just think how much easier it would make things if he had
your
magic. No one would be able to stop him then.”

“Are you threatening me?” I asked. “Threatening to expose my Talent, my magic, just to get me to work for you? Because I don't respond well to that sort of thing.”

She didn't say anything.

“You know that you'd just be cutting your own throat, right? If you told Victor about my magic?”

Claudia shrugged again. I stared into her eyes and saw rock-hard determination. She wouldn't like ratting me out, but she'd do it, if for no other reason than because I'd have to work for her just to have some sort of protection from the Draconis, just to save my own miserable skin.

I barked out a laugh. “Mom said you were the most ruthless, selfish, and coldhearted person she'd ever met.”

“And Serena wasn't coldhearted enough,” Claudia snapped back. “That's why she got into some of the . . . trouble that she did. Especially with your father. Did she tell you about him?”

“She told me how
Romeo and Juliet
they were,” I said, thinking of Felix and Deah. “How he was from a different Family and they weren't supposed to be together and all the problems it caused.”

“That's putting it mildly.” Claudia paused, as if debating whether to say more, but she must have changed her mind because she looked at me again. “But you
are
coldhearted enough, Lila. Ruthless enough. That's why I need you. To help me protect Devon—to help me protect my Family.”

I was exactly what she said I was. Coldhearted, ruthless, selfish, and focused on my own survival, comfort, and well-being more than anything else. My feeding Grant and his men to the lochness last night had proved all of that.

My gaze moved past Claudia and focused on my mom's tombstone. I thought back to what Mo had told me the first day I'd come to the Sinclair mansion—this was where my mom had wanted me to be, this was where I belonged. I didn't know if Mo was right, but this was certainly where I was trapped, thanks to Claudia.

“Fine,” I growled. “Once again, you aren't giving me much of a choice. So I'll do it. I'll stay and protect Devon and be a good little soldier. Just don't expect me to be happy about it.”

For the first time since I'd known her, a flicker of a smile pulled up Claudia's lips. “Oh, I would never expect
that
.”

“And don't expect me to stay here forever, either. Just until we figure out what Victor is up to and how to stop it. After that, I'm gone. A ghost. And you will never see, hear from, or think about me again. Understand?”

She nodded. “Very well.”

“And if I'm going to stay here, then I want some say in Family matters.”

“Like what?”

“You need a new broker, now that Grant's dead,” I said. “And that broker is going to be Mo.”

I'd never seen someone's lips actually curl with disgust before, but that was the only way to describe Claudia's expression.

“Mo Kaminsky? The Sinclair Family broker?
My
broker ? I don't think so,” she spat out.

“It's going to be Mo,” I snapped right back at her. “You need someone you can trust, and so do I. Like it or not, that person is Mo. Besides, he knows everyone, and he'll be able to make deals that you never dreamed of. Not to mention ferret out information about what Victor is plotting.”

Claudia grumbled, but she nodded.

We hammered out a few more details, each of us demanding things from the other, and neither of us giving up an inch more than we had to. Finally, though, we'd covered all the major points, including my new and much improved salary. Claudia particularly winced when I told her how much I wanted, but I had her by the throat just as much as she had me.

“So do we have a deal?” Claudia finally asked.

I stared at her outstretched hand, once again wondering what I was getting myself into. But like it or not, I was stuck, and so was she.

So we shook on it, sealing our devil's bargain.

 

Claudia and I walked back to the mansion, then split up. She went to go call Mo and tell him what we'd agreed to. I wandered through the halls, going from one room to the next, and brooding. But I kept running into people who wanted to hear all the gory details about the fight with Grant and the lochness, so I eventually retreated back to my bedroom. I propped my mom's sword up by the nightstand, took off my suit, and threw on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Oscar fluttered around, making snarky comments and trying to cheer me up, but I wasn't in the mood for that, either.

Just after sunset, I found myself out on the balcony, staring down at the flashing lights of Cloudburst Falls. It was the same view my mom would have seen every night, living here at the mansion. I wondered what she had thought about them—Claudia, the Sinclair Family, Victor Draconi. I wondered if she would be happy that I was here now, following in her footsteps, whether I wanted to or not.

Several soft
scrape-scrape-scrapes
caught my attention, along with a few muffled curses, and I glanced over. That sounded like someone trying very hard not to fall and not really succeeding at it.

Sure enough, a second later, Devon came sliding down the drainpipe. Well, sliding was a bit generous. He hit the balcony so fast his knees buckled, and he landed on his ass. But he let out a soft laugh and pushed himself onto his feet, so I knew he wasn't hurt.

“How do you climb up and down that thing?” he asked, brushing his hands off and walking over to me. “It's so much harder than it looks.”

“Practice,” I quipped.

He must have been up on the roof, working on the heavy bag, because sweat had beaded at his temples again. He wore black gym shorts and a T-shirt that stretched across his chest in a delicious fashion. I remembered the feel of his body next to mine last night, his fingers curled around mine, his breath kissing my hair. And I wanted to feel those things again right now and more—so much more.

“What are you doing?” I asked to distract myself from those treacherous thoughts.

He grinned. “I thought I'd come down and see you for a change.”

My heart warmed at his words. That was probably the oddest but most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. But I forced myself to look away from him and turn back to the railing.

Devon hesitated at my less-than-warm welcome, but he came over and stood beside me, putting his elbows on the stone ledge. We both stared down at the flashing lights, which seemed to burn brighter tonight than ever before.

“We haven't had a chance to talk about what happened,” he said. “But I wanted to say thanks. For saving my life.”

“Just doing my job,” I muttered. “I'm your bodyguard, remember?”

He winced. Neither one of us said anything for a few minutes.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “About what happened?”

“You mean me tricking Grant and those other two men into getting eaten by the lochness?”

He nodded.

I shrugged. “I'm fine with it. You?”

He shrugged back. “I guess I'm all right. I mean, it was him or us. I know that. Although I keep thinking about Grant and everything he did, about how jealous and unhappy he was. I keep wondering if I should have noticed, and if I had, whether I could have done something about it.”