Dark Heart of Magic (2 page)

I scoffed. “The only one here who is cray-cray is you, Romeo.”

Felix's face scrunched up with worry at my not-so-veiled reference to his love life. On the surface, Felix might seem like a terrible flirt, but it was all an act to hide how crazy he was about Deah Draconi, daughter of Victor Draconi, the most powerful man in town. Naturally, Victor hated all the other Families, especially the Sinclairs, because that's how these kinds of doomed love stories always went. My mom and dad were proof of that.

Devon glanced back and forth between Felix and me, but he didn't say anything. If he knew what I was talking about, he didn't pipe up and say so.

I shut Devon and Felix out of my mind, stepped forward, and took hold of the tree. The blood persimmon was old and sturdy, with lots of thick branches that would hold my weight. I'd always enjoyed climbing, no matter the surface or what I was scaling, and it was practically a job requirement for a thief.

So I shimmied up the trunk, then reached up for the first branch. I quickly went up ten, fifteen, twenty feet, smiling all the while and enjoying the earthy smell of the tree and the rough scrape of the bark against my hands. I might be an official member of the Sinclair Family now, with a thin veneer of legitimacy, but I still liked practicing all my old tricks. You never knew when they might come in handy, especially with Victor Draconi plotting something against all the other Families.

Finally, when I was about thirty feet up, that distinctive
cheep-cheep-cheeping
sounded again. I looked up to find the troll perched on a branch up and off to my left. The creature regarded me with open suspicion, its emerald-green eyes narrowed to slits, another blood persimmon clutched in its long, curved black claws. Three fresh, jagged scars raked down the right side of the troll's face, as if it had tangled with a much bigger monster recently—and won. This one was a fighter. Good thing I was too.

I wrapped my legs around the branch, making sure that I wouldn't fall, then held my hands out to my sides, trying to let the troll know that I wasn't here to hurt it. The creature kept staring at me, but it didn't make a move to bean me in the face with the fruit. Finally, some progress.

I dropped my right hand down to my side and unzipped one of the pockets on my cargo pants. The troll cocked its head to the side, its small, gray, triangle-shaped ears twitching at the sound of several quarters
jingle-jangling
together in my pocket.

But instead of coins, I drew out a dark chocolate bar, held it up above my head, and waved it back and forth. The troll's black nose twitched, and its green eyes brightened in appreciation and anticipation.

Monsters might have more teeth and talons than the rest of us, but it was easy enough to deal with most of them. You just had to know what to bribe them with, something I totally appreciated as a thief. Most of the time, a drop of blood or a lock of hair was enough to get you safe passage through a monster's territory. Some monsters, like the lochness that Felix had mentioned, required quarters and other shiny coins, but tree trolls went in for more immediate gratification.

Dark chocolate, and lots of it.

“C'mon,” I crooned. “You know you want it. I'm just paying the toll for climbing your tree and invading your personal space—”

The troll scrambled down, snatched the chocolate bar out of my hand, and returned to its previous branch, its lightning-quick movements almost too fast for me to follow.

Its black claws made quick work of the wrapper, and the troll sank its needle-sharp teeth into the chocolate. More little
cheep-cheeps
sounded, but this time they were squeaks of pleasure.

I waited until the troll had downed another bite before starting my spiel, such as it was. “Listen, little furry dude. I'm not here to make trouble. But you know how it is. If you start acting out and throwing stuff at tourists, then the Sinclairs are going to make you move on. You know that. So what's got you so upset?”

The troll chomped down on another piece of chocolate, staring at me all the while, his green eyes locked with mine. Once again, his anger and worry rippled through my body, mixed in with a bit of warm happiness brought on by eating the chocolate. Nothing strange there. Chocolate made me happy too.

But the longer I stared at the troll, the brighter and greener its eyes became, until they were practically glowing like stars in its furry face. It almost seemed as if the creature had the same soulsight that I did and was peering into me the same way I was into him—judging whether or not I was trustworthy. So I focused on remaining calm and trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.

Maybe it was a trick of the sunlight streaming down through the leaves, but I swear that I felt something . . . shift inside me. It was as if I was somehow calming down the troll just by staring at it and thinking good thoughts. Despite the hot summer day, a chill swept over me, cold enough to raise goose bumps on my arms.

I shivered and blinked, breaking the strange spell. The troll was just a troll again, and everything was normal. No glowing eyes, no odd emotions in my chest, no more cold chills. Weird—even for me.

The troll
cheeped
again, then reached up and pushed back a branch beside its head, revealing a large nest.

Twigs, leaves, and grasses had been braided together in a crook of the tree, along with several candy bar wrappers. Looked like this troll really loved his chocolate. I scooted up higher on my branch so that my head was level with the nest. A moment later, another tree troll—a female given her dark gray fur—popped her head up out of the nest, along with a much smaller, fuzzier head. A pair of tiny, innocent green eyes stared back at me. The male tree troll handed the rest of the candy bar to the female, and she and the baby vanished back down into the bottom of the nest, out of my line of sight.

So the monster was watching out for his family, which was the reason for all the fruit bombs. No doubt the creature saw everyone who approached the tree as a potential threat. Well, I couldn't blame him for that. I might be a thief, but I knew what it was like to try to protect your Family—mob and otherwise.

And to fail miserably.

The old, familiar, soul-crushing grief stabbed my chest, but I shoved the emotion deep down into the bottom of my heart where it belonged.

“All right,” I said. “You can stay here until your baby is big enough to travel. If you're looking for someplace a little quieter, there are some nice, tall trees over by the lochness bridge. You should scout them out.”

The tree troll
cheeped
at me again. I hoped that meant he understood me.

I pointed at him. “But no more throwing fruit at people, okay? You leave them alone, and they'll leave you alone.
Capisce?
”

The troll
cheeped
at me a final time, which I was going to take for a
yes
.

I unhooked my legs from around the branch and started climbing down. The troll watched me all the while, jumping from one branch to the next and following me all the way down the tree, but he didn't throw any more blood persimmons. More progress. Maybe I really was a monster whisperer after all. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

When I was about ten feet off the ground, I sat down on a branch, flipped over, and let go. I plummeted through the air, letting out a happy laugh at the rush of the wind through my hair, before landing in a low crouch. I made a gallant flourish with my hand to add to my dramatic dismount, then got to my feet.

Felix grinned. “Show-off.”

I grinned back. “Absolutely.”

Devon craned his neck back, trying to see the troll. “So what did he do?”

“He's got his family up there, so he's not going anywhere,” I said. “I told him to stop throwing fruit at people, and it seemed like he agreed to it. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.”

Devon nodded. “Thanks, Lila. Good job.”

His face crinkled into a smile. I looked away from him before my soulsight kicked in, but the dizzying rush in my heart had nothing to do with my magic. It was just Devon being Devon, and how hopelessly into him I was, despite my need to keep my distance.

Devon sensed my mood swing, and his grin dropped from his face. I felt like I'd reached up and snuffed out the sun with my bare fingers, and more than a little guilt curled up in my stomach. He really was a good guy, and I kept pushing him away, hurting him without even meaning to.

But I'd been hurt too—horribly so—and I didn't want my heart to be broken again. Not even for someone as all-around hot, charming, and wonderful as Devon Sinclair.

Devon waited until Felix had handed over my black leather belt and I'd buckled my sword around my waist again before jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

“Come on,” Devon said. “Let's go home and get cleaned up.”

He and Felix turned and headed out of the square, but something made me stop and look back over my shoulder. Thanks to my sight, I easily spotted the troll staring at me through the leafy branches, his green eyes brighter and more wary than ever before, as if he knew about some lurking danger that I didn't. Our eyes locked, and once again, the creature's worry, fear, and dread made my heart sink, my stomach churn, and a chill slither down my spine.

I shivered, dropped my gaze from the monster, and hurried after my friends.

D
evon, Felix, and I left the square, strode down a walkway, and stepped out into the Midway, the commercial heart of Cloudburst Falls.

The square and its shops had been busy enough, but the Midway was jam-packed, as throngs of tourists moved from one side of the enormous circular area to the other, flowing into the shops and restaurants, and back out again. Every single business tied in to the town's overall fairy-tale theme, from the smallest Olde Tyme Fudge Shacke to Camelot Court, one of the largest hotels. Oh, there were plenty of real magical attractions, like the zoos where you could pet rockmunks and other small monsters. But really, the Midway was nothing more than the world's largest—and cheesiest—renaissance faire.

Adding to the atmosphere were men and women wearing knee-high black boots and black pants, along with poofy silk shirts, colorful cloaks, and cavalier hats topped with feathers. Gold, silver, and bronze cuffs stamped with various crests glimmered on their wrists, while swords were belted to their waists. The guards moved from one food cart and clothing shop to the next, like sharks circling around and around, making sure that everything was running smoothly. They were constantly on the lookout for everything from obnoxious tourists who'd had a few too many drinks to employees taking more out of the till than they put in.

The tourists thought that the dressed-up guards were just part of the fun, and several folks stopped to snap photos of them. What the rubes didn't realize was that the color of their cloaks and the symbols stamped into their cuffs designated which Family the guards belonged to—and that they all took their jobs very, very seriously.

Each Family owned a different piece of the Midway, and we were in the Sinclair section, which consisted of banks, several petting zoos, and a museum displaying artifacts made of the bloodiron that had been mined out of Cloudburst Mountain.

The guards here all wore black cloaks and silver cuffs stamped with the Sinclair crest—a hand holding a sword. Devon stopped and spoke to one of the guards, telling her that the tree troll had been dealt with, while Felix waved and called out to the folks he knew, which was practically everyone. Felix had never met a stranger.

The guards all nodded at me, their gazes lingering on the hand-and-sword cuff that adorned my right wrist. I shifted on my feet, my fingers tracing over the small, star-shaped sapphire embedded in the silver cuff. It matched the sapphire ring on my finger. I forced myself to nod back to the guards, wishing all the while that I could melt into the crowd and disappear. As far as I was concerned, the fewer people who knew me the better, even if I was an official member of the Sinclair Family now.

Devon finished with the guard, then cut through the park in the center of the Midway, choosing a cobblestone path that curved past several bubbling fountains. He turned his face toward the cool, refreshing mist, letting it soak into his black T-shirt. The water made the cotton cling to his broad shoulders in all the right places, not to mention his muscled chest. I couldn't take my eyes off him, and I didn't really want to.

Felix jabbed his elbow into my side, breaking the spell. “Looks like I'm not the only one with romantic problems, eh, Juliet?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Devon and I are just friends.”

“
Right
,” Felix drawled. “Because the two of you haven't spent the last few weeks making googly eyes at each other when you think the other person isn't looking. I might be a flirt, but at least I'm honest about it. You two just need to make out already and be done with it.”

Luckily, the steady
rush-rush-rush
of the fountains and the chatter of the crowd drowned out his words so that Devon didn't hear them. I glared at Felix, but he smirked and elbowed me in the side again.

Devon faced us, using the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe off his face and revealing his stomach muscles. Yeah, I totally stared at him again.

Devon dropped his shirt and looked at me. “Something wrong?”

I shook my head hard enough to make my ponytail flap against my shoulders. “Nope. Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all. Not one little thing.”

“Okay,” he said, although I could tell he didn't really believe me.

I moved past Devon, heading deeper into the park. Carts lined the winding path, with vendors selling everything from frozen lemonade and caramel popcorn to sunglasses and T-shirts. The scents of bacon-wrapped hot dogs and fried funnel cakes topped with snowy mounds of powdered sugar filled the air, making me sigh with longing.

Felix eyed me. “Don't tell me you're hungry again already—especially after all those BL Ts you inhaled for lunch.”

“Climbing trees and bargaining with monsters is hard work.” My stomach rumbled in time to my words. “I need to keep my strength up.”

Felix groaned, but Devon laughed.

“I think we have time to get Lila a snack before we go back to the mansion,” Devon said.

We veered into a section of the park that was all food. Several wrought iron benches were spaced in between the carts, and folks chowed down on everything from ice cream to nachos to deep-fried pickles. And just like the rest of the Midway, guards patrolled this area, all of them sporting swords and bronze cuffs stamped with a hacienda—the Salazar Family crest.

As the Sinclair bruiser, Devon was well-known by all the Families, and the Salazar guards gave him respectful nods, which he returned. Felix was much more sociable, going over to and chatting with a cute Salazar guard who was about our age. I rolled my eyes. Sometimes, I thought that Felix knew every single girl in Cloudburst Falls, especially the pretty ones.

The Salazar guards eyed me, their stares cautious and curious, since I was a new member of the Sinclairs and a relative unknown. Their sharp gazes took in everything from my black hair and dark blue eyes to the silver cuff on my wrist to my pulp-covered clothes and sneakers.

But the thing that really caught their attention was the sword belted to my waist.

The weapon was sheathed in a plain black scabbard, but the hilt was exposed, showing off the five-pointed star carved into the metal there. Smaller stars ran down the hilt and were also etched into the blade itself.

Surprise flashed in the guards' eyes, and a few of them whispered to each other, wondering whether my sword was really made out of bloodiron. Given the metal's name, you would expect the weapon to be a rusty red, but the sword was actually a dull, ashy gray. They were called black blades by most magicks because of one simple, horrifying fact—the more blood you got on the blade, the blacker the metal became.

I didn't like the Salazar guards' scrutiny, and I had to curl my fingers into a tight fist to stop myself from wrapping my hand around the sword's hilt and hiding the beautiful scrollwork from sight.

Bloodiron was rare, and most weapons made out of it were highly prized—so highly prized that family symbols and crests were carved into the metal to make the weapons easy to identify and harder to sell on the black market. Even I had never stolen a black blade because it just wasn't worth all the trouble it would take Mo Kaminsky, my pawnbroker friend, to fence it.

Not that I would ever even
consider
selling my black blade. The sword had been my mom's, and it was one of the few things I had left of her, along with my star-shaped sapphire ring.

“The more you try to hide your sword, the more attention you draw to it, and yourself too,” Devon murmured, noticing how tense I was. “You're a Sinclair now, Lila. You don't have to hide in the shadows anymore. Not from the Salazars, not from anyone. We watch out for each other, remember?”

“Yeah. Right.”

I smiled at him, but I curled my fingers even tighter together to keep from reaching for my sword again.

Devon bought us dark chocolate-covered apples dipped in crushed, toasted almonds and drizzled with raspberry syrup. Felix grabbed his apple, then went back over to the Salazar guard to continue his flirting.

“Let's go sit in the shade for a few minutes,” Devon said. “That's how long it will take before Felix runs out of steam.”

I snorted. “Run out of steam? Are you kidding? He's eating that apple even faster than he talks. All that sugar will just rev up his engine that much more.”

Devon laughed, and we headed toward the nearest bench, which was shaded by a tall maple. I peered up at the tree, but I didn't spot any trolls, just a couple of rockmunks running up and down the branches, chattering to their chipmunk cousins.

We'd almost reached the bench when I realized exactly where we were in the park—the spot where my mom had once saved Devon from being kidnapped.

White stars flashed on and off in front of my eyes, threatening to crash together, form a solid wall, blot out the here and now, and throw me back into the past.

And make me relive all the horrible memories I wanted to forget.

Devon noticed the stricken look on my face. He stared at me, then at the bench. He winced, realizing exactly what I was thinking about.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't realize.... We can go somewhere else—”

I forced myself to blink away the white stars and shake my head. “No, it's fine. Really. Let's sit.”

I went over and plopped down on the bench, trying not to think about the last time I'd sat here, eating ice cream with my mom. Those white stars rose up in my mind again, but I ruthlessly forced them away. I'd relived that awful day a thousand times in my head, and I didn't want to do it anymore. Not when I had other things to think about.

Like getting revenge on Victor Draconi for murdering my mom.

Devon sat down beside me, his shoulder brushing mine in a silent show of support. I didn't look at him because I didn't want to see or especially feel the soft sympathy that was surely shining in his eyes right now. It would just make me like him more than I already did. I might be a sucker for a cute guy, but I was no fool. And since I planned on leaving the Sinclairs and Cloudburst Falls as soon as I could, there was no point in starting something up with Devon when it would just end all too soon.

Especially when I already cared way too much about him.

Devon pressed his shoulder against mine again, then slid a couple of inches away, giving me the space he realized I needed.

We sat there, munched on our apples, and watched the flow of tourists. The tense, awkward silence between us slowly eased and mellowed, and the white stars and bad memories faded away. Yeah, I wished that my mom was still alive, but she would have been happy that I was here with Devon. My mom had worked for the Sinclairs before me, and she would have been proud to see what a great guy Devon had become—and that her saving him, sacrificing herself for him, hadn't all been for nothing.

Ten minutes later, Devon and I finished our apples and tossed the sticks into a nearby trash can.

Devon looked over at Felix, who was still chatting up that Salazar guard. “If he keeps that up, he's going to get in trouble with his girlfriend.”

“What girlfriend?” I tried to make my voice light, but it didn't quite work.

Devon snorted. “The one he's always sneaking off to see. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Felix is always slipping out of the mansion with a rose or some chocolate or something else he thinks she'll like. The boy's got it bad.”

I shrugged. “I'm sure he'll move on to someone else soon enough. Look how he's flirting with that guard. Do you really think any girl—much less a bona fide girlfriend—would put up with that?”

Devon shrugged back. “Depends on the girl and how she feels about Felix. I don't know why he bothers flirting with other girls when it's obvious how crazy he is about her.” He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I know exactly how he feels.”

He didn't look at me, which was a good thing, considering the tomato-red blush staining my cheeks. A couple of weeks ago, Devon had told me how he felt about me, but I'd shot him down, saying we should stick to being friends. This was the first time he'd directly mentioned his feelings since then. I wondered why he was bringing them up now and how much longer I could keep turning him down, instead of giving in and seeing if he kissed as good as he looked—

“Oh, look,” a snide voice called out. “It's Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

A shadow fell over me, blocking out the sun, and I looked up to find a tall, blond guy with cold brown eyes standing in front of me. He wore a red T-shirt with a snarling gold dragon stretched across his wide chest, and a gold cuff with the same dragon crest flashed on his right wrist.

Blake Draconi, the Draconi Family bruiser, Victor's son.

And the guy who'd helped murder my mom.