Cold Burn of Magic(37)

I snorted. “You are the son of the head of one of the most powerful Families in town. You don’t have friends, sweet prince. Not really. You have allies, enemies, and people who want you dead. Nothing more, nothing less. Especially not with me.”

Devon’s green eyes locked with mine. My soulsight kicked in with another punch to the gut—the hurt my harsh words had caused him.

“We should go.” He shot to his feet. “We don’t want to be late.”

He pushed away from the table, turned, and headed toward the doorway. Over at the buffet tables, the pixies hovered in a row in mid-air, glaring at me, their arms crossed over their tiny chests. They’d noticed how I’d upset Devon, and they didn’t like it.

“What are you looking at?” I snapped.

The pixies huffed at me before going back to their chores. I sighed and started twisting my ring around and around on my finger before finally putting the star right side up again.

Devon was right. I didn’t want to be here, but I was stuck just the same—at least for the next year—so I might as well do what Claudia had hired me to.

I sighed again, got up, and went after him.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Devon was waiting outside the dining hall, instead of storming off and leaving me to find my own way around the mansion. Or maybe he thought I’d wander off somewhere else instead of going with him if he wasn’t around to guide me.

He might have been right about that.

Either way, he didn’t speak to me as he led me outside.

The sun was already beating down on the mountain, and the May heat and humidity were cranking up to be particularly stifling today. But the grounds around the mansion were a lush green before they gave way to the dappled shadows of the woods. Once again, I noted the guards patrolling through the trees. Many of them were the same folks I’d seen in the dining hall. Every once in a while, one of them would move through a patch of sunlight, causing the silver cuff on his or her wrist to gleam. The thin bands reminded me of shackles.

I rubbed my own wrist, my fingers digging into the bare skin there. No one had said anything about giving me a Family cuff, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask for one. That would make my indentured servitude all too real. Perhaps Claudia was waiting to see whether or not I ran off—or how long I might live.

But the guards weren’t the only things in the woods.

Bright green slits of light flashed, and branches whipped back and forth as the tree trolls moved from one limb to another, even more nimble than the squirrels they startled. Deeper in the forest, back where the green faded to black, more neon colors—reds and blues and yellows—winked on and off, as the other monsters woke and then went on the prowl for their own breakfast.

I pulled my gaze away from the woods and focused on Grant, who was leaning against a black SUV with the Sinclair crest emblazoned on the front doors. His hair gleamed like spun gold in the sun, his arms were crossed over his chest, showing off his muscles, and he sported a pair of aviator sunglasses that made him look that much cooler.

“Where’s Felix?” Grant asked, straightening up.

“Right here,” Felix called out, stepping out of the mansion behind us. He carried a red gift bag in his hand, the sort you’d give to someone at a birthday party.

“What’s in the bag?” I asked.

“Something to help Devon,” Felix said. “You’ll see.”

He grinned and Devon rolled his eyes.

Felix got into the front passenger seat, while Grant slid into the driver’s side. Devon stepped up and opened the back door, something I supposed I should have done for him, since I was his bodyguard.

“Ladies first,” he murmured.

I was definitely no lady, but an unwelcome blush stained my cheeks all the same. I slid into the back, with Devon getting in beside me and pulling the door shut. He turned to put his seat belt on, and his scent washed over me—that sharp, crisp, tang of pine. I let myself breathe it in before scooting over to the far side and buckling my own seat belt.

I stayed silent as we drove down the mountain. It wasn’t like I could add to the conversation anyway, not with Felix talking as much and as fast as he did. He gave new meaning to the word chatterbox.

I glanced at Devon, wondering what he thought of his best friend’s incessant talking. He shrugged back, although a faint smile tugged up his lips. I looked out the window before I was tempted to return his grin.

Thirty minutes later, Grant parked the SUV in a special lot off the Midway that was reserved for the Families. A dozen other black SUVs were already here. My gaze roamed over the vehicles, taking in all of the crests on the doors, including the snarling gold Draconi dragon and the delicate cluster of purple wisteria flowers of the Itos.

The four of us got out of the car, and Grant looked at Devon. “Where are you supposed to meet her?”

He made a face. “At the arcade entrance.”

I wondered who she was, but I’d find out soon enough. Besides, my job was to watch out for Devon, not ask questions. I didn’t want to ask questions. I didn’t want to get involved in his world, in the Families’ world, any more than necessary. This was just like any other job Mo had sent me on, and I was only here for the money and whatever else I could steal along the way. Nothing more.

That’s what I kept telling myself, even though I knew it wasn’t true.