Cold Burn of Magic(14)

I let go of Devon just as the last of the magic burned out of my system. My extra strength evaporated, the cold sensation in my veins vanished, and my body returned to its normal temperature.

Devon fell to his knees beside Ashley. I grabbed several white silk handkerchiefs from a rack, dropped down beside Ashley, and pressed the silk to her wound, although all the fabric immediately turned a bright crimson. She stared at me, her brown eyes two pools of pain in her face, the light in her gaze getting darker and darker as the blood drained from her body.

“You’re good,” she said. “Much better than me. Which Family do you belong to?”

Instead of answering, I pressed the silk even tighter against her stomach. Hot, sticky blood oozed over my fingers like a waterfall and puddled on the floor.

“You should snap her up, Devon,” Ashley said, smiling at him through the pain. “Smart, pretty, and wicked good with a sword. And look at those blue eyes on her. I know how . . . crazy you are for . . . baby blues like that.”

Devon shook his head and took her hand in his.

I scanned the counters around us. Among the many things in the shop, Mo sold bottles of stitch-sting, a healing liquid made from evergreen bushes of the same name. I didn’t know if he had enough to help her, though—

“Don’t bother,” Ashley rasped, picking up on my thoughts. “It’s too late for any healing. Besides, his sword was poisoned with copper crusher venom. I can feel it . . . running . . . through my veins. It . . . burns. It burns . . . so bad.”

Devon tightened his grip on her hand. “I’m so sorry, Ash. If I hadn’t wanted to come out today—”

She shook her head. “I knew the risks when I signed up for the job, remember?”

He didn’t respond, but anguish tightened his face—along with guilt.

“Tell Oscar I’m sorry,” Ashley rasped.

“Don’t even talk like that. You can tell him yourself.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Sure—”

Ashley let out a violent, racking cough, blood dribbling out of her lips. She sighed, her head lolled to the side, and her whole body relaxed.

I didn’t have to look into her eyes and use my sight to know that she was dead.





For a moment, everything was quiet—so quiet.

The only sounds were the steady, faint, mechanical tick-tick-ticks of the grandfather clocks that clustered together in one section of the shop.

“Ashley? Ashley!” Devon rasped, shattering the silence.

He leaned down and started shaking her shoulders as if he could bring her back to life if only he tried hard enough. I got to my feet, stepped back, and let him get it all out. It didn’t take long.

“Ashley . . . Ashley . . .”

Devon’s voice broke off into a choked sob, and he cradled her to his chest and started rocking back and forth, the way a child might with a favorite stuffed animal. He really had cared about his bodyguard after all, and Ashley had paid the ultimate price for protecting him.

Just like my mom had.

My stomach started churning, so I looked away from them, trying to distract myself from memories that were best forgotten. This was why I stayed away from the Families. This was why I didn’t get involved. This was why I didn’t let myself care about anyone.

Because heartache and suffering and misery were all you got in return.

Felix had finally come to and tried to sit up, although one of his shoulders was propped up against a rack of comic books, while the rest of him was still slumped on the floor. The left side of his jaw had already started to swell and bruise from where the mystery man had hit him, and his brown eyes were unfocused. He probably had a concussion, but he’d be okay. He was lucky that the mystery man hadn’t killed him outright. Then again Devon had seemed to be the target of the attack—

A hand touched my shoulder. I whipped around and raised my sword, thinking the mystery man had come back into the shop.

“Whoa! Whoa, Lila!” Mo held up his hands and backed out of range. “It’s just me.”

I hissed out a breath between my clenched teeth and lowered the sword. Once again, the shop was quiet, except for the rustle of Devon’s clothes as he rocked back and forth with Ashley. Every once in a while, Felix would let out a low moan, as though he were chiming in to Devon’s raspy chorus of grief.

“I’m in the back, talking on the phone, and I hear all these yells and screams. What happened?” Mo asked, his gaze going from the dead men to Felix to Devon holding Ashley’s body before finally coming back to me.

I drew him away from Devon and quietly told him everything.

Mo stood there, thinking. “Did you get a good look at the man who was leading the attack?”

I shook my head. “He was just a guy. Brown hair, brown eyes, plain features. I didn’t see any crests on his clothes, wrist, or sword, so I don’t know which Family he might work for.”

Mo nodded. For a moment, he was perfectly still, then he burst into action, like someone had lit a fire under his feet. He grabbed the sword out of my hand and laid it on one of the counters before hustling over and grabbing my backpack. Then he whirled around and stormed right back toward me, his Hawaiian shirt fluttering around his body and his flip-flops snap-snap-snapping against the floor. He shoved my backpack into my chest and slapped a fat wad of cash into my bloody hand.