Dark Heart of Magic (Black Blade #2)(10)

“She’s amazing to watch,” Felix said in a dreamy voice. “She can throw around the biggest guard like it’s nothing.”

My frown deepened. That almost sounded like a version of my soulsight—like Deah could see the way people moved so well that she could copy their style. And if she could use their own magic against them as well.... That sounded suspiciously like my own transference power—the Talent that let me absorb other people’s magic and then use it for myself. Weird. I wouldn’t have thought that Deah and I had anything in common.

“What about the Sinclairs?” I asked. “How did you guys do in the tournament last year?”

Devon shrugged. “Katia beat me to advance to the final round. I thought I had her at one point, but she got the better of me.”

I eyed the muscles in Devon’s arms and shoulders. He spent his free time working out on one of the roofs at the Family mansion, so I knew how tough he was. Beating him in a fight was no small task.

“Katia and Deah must be really good.”

Devon shrugged again. “They are. Maybe you’ll get to find out for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced at Felix, and they both grinned.

“Oh, you know, when we go watch the tournament.” Devon’s voice was just a little too casual to be believable.

I waited for him to look at me, so I could use my soulsight and feel what he really meant, but Devon pulled out his keys and stepped toward the SUV. I glanced at Felix, but he pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and slid them onto his face, hiding his eyes. Oh, yeah. They both knew something that I didn’t, and they didn’t want me to guess what it was.

Devon unlocked the SUV. He started to get into the driver’s seat, then stopped and glanced down at his persimmon-spattered clothes. “Reginald is going to kill us for dirtying up the leather.”

“Oh, Reginald’s bark is worse than his bite.” Felix arched an eyebrow at him. “Besides, you’re the Family bruiser. You’re not supposed to be afraid of anyone.”

Devon snorted. “Everyone’s afraid of Reginald. Especially you.”

“You’d better believe it.” Felix grinned. “But it’s your car, so you can be the one to tell him why it smells like a juice box.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Devon laughed, and the two of them kept talking, debating whether they should ask the pixies to try to wash their clothes or just go ahead and throw them away when we got back to the mansion.

Instead of listening to them, I found myself focusing on the sudden, odd lack of noise. Sure, murmurs, music, and more floated down the alley from the Midway, but the parking lot itself was quiet.

Too quiet.

Devon and I had been attacked and kidnapped in this very spot a few weeks ago, and he, Felix, and I were the only folks here now. There was no love lost between Blake and us, so I wouldn’t put it past Blake to try to sneak back here with some Draconi guards in hopes of beating us senseless—if not worse.

My gaze scanned over the cars, and I used my sight to peer in through the tinted windows, just to make sure that no one was lurking inside, watching us. All the vehicles were empty, but it didn’t lessen my worry.

Something was wrong here.

My hand dropped to my sword, my fingers tracing over the star carved into the hilt. Whether it was a parking lot, a pit, or a palace, there were three rules when it came to a place being too quiet.

Too quiet meant you weren’t as alone as you thought you were.

Too quiet meant someone was up to something.

Too quiet all too often meant death.

So I scanned the parking lot again, looking—really looking—at everything with my sight. The cars, the pavement, even the access doors on the backs of the buildings to see if someone was peering out one of them at us. And I finally spotted something out of place—a small, dark, glistening pool oozing out from behind one of the dumpsters.

Blood.

I drew my sword. The rasp of the black blade sliding free of its scabbard caught Devon’s and Felix’s attention.

“Lila?” Devon asked, going on alert. “What’s wrong?”

“Blood. Over there.”

I headed in that direction. Devon stepped up beside me, with Felix behind him.

“Stay behind me,” I growled at Devon. “I’m your bodyguard, remember?”

“And Sinclairs take care of each other, remember?” he shot right back.

I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop Devon from drawing his own sword, ready to attack whatever danger was lurking here.

Together, the two of us crept closer and closer to the dumpster, with Felix right behind us, gripping his own sword and literally breathing down our necks. I held up three fingers and looked at Devon. He nodded back. We silently mouthed the words together:

One . . . two . . . three!

Together, we rushed around the side of the dumpster, our swords held high.

But nobody was hiding behind the container.

Instead, a tree troll lay in the dumpster’s shadow, its gray, furry body propped up against the brick wall like it was a drunk tourist sleeping off a bender. But the monster wasn’t drunk.

It was dead—its throat cut open.

Devon and I lowered our swords. Behind us, Felix let out a tense breath and did the same.