Cold Burn of Magic(70)

I made it to the fifth floor and swung myself through the open window and into my bedroom. I stood next to the window, breathing hard, and tried to hear over the roar of my heart beating in my ears. But the apartment was quiet—too quiet.

“Mom?” I whispered.

No answer.

My bedroom door was closed. I drew in a breath, tiptoed over to it, and turned the knob. I cracked the door open, but I didn’t see anything out of place. I didn’t see my mom, either, so I opened the door a little wider . . . and a little wider . . . and a little wider still . . .

When I saw the first pool of blood on the floor, I shoved the door the rest of the way open. “Mom!”

There was blood, so much blood—everywhere. On the floor, on the walls, even spattered onto the ceiling.

And my mom was lying in the middle of it all, her arms and legs bent at awkward angles, as though they’d been brutally broken. She had been stabbed repeatedly, and cuts and gashes crisscrossed her body, each wound deeper and uglier than the last. But the worst part was her face—her sightless blue eyes fixed on the ceiling, her mouth open in a silent scream—

“Lila ?” Devon whispered in my ear. “Is everything okay?”

I blinked, and the blood and the memories vanished, and I was back in the Red Cannoli again, watching Victor slap Blake on the shoulder as though nothing was wrong. As if he hadn’t been the architect of my own personal nightmare. As if he wasn’t more of a monster than anything that lived in the alleys of Cloudburst Falls.

“Lila?” Devon whispered.

“Yeah,” I said through gritted teeth. “Everything’s fine.”





Victor Draconi didn’t deign to look at anyone else in the room as he headed for the table in the center. Everyone sitting there got to their feet as he approached. Victor smiled, which made his face seem more cruel than handsome, as he went around the table, shaking hands with the heads of the other Families. He laughed and joked with many of them, but his meeting with Claudia was decidedly cold. They shook hands, barely managing to hide their dislike for each other long enough to give the perfunctory handshakes.

“Victor.”

“Claudia.”

And that was as far as their pleasantries went.

Now that the Draconis had arrived, the dinner finally began. Roberto Salazar snapped his fingers, and the bartender went into the back of the restaurant. A few seconds later, an army of waiters appeared, carrying trays of white and red wine, along with sparkling water.

“And now, we mingle,” Devon muttered.

The waiters circulated through the restaurant, offering drinks to everyone. And slowly, folks began to leave their Family members behind and mix with people from the other Families. Grant was the first one to leave the Sinclairs, moving from one group to the next, laughing, smiling, and talking with everyone. I shook my head. Maybe he really did know everyone in all the Families.

Devon moved off as well, standing next to Claudia as she walked from group to group. Felix wandered off to talk to Poppy, but I stayed where I was. I didn’t trust myself not to do something stupid, like grab one of the throwing stars on my belt and try to kill Victor.

I’d thought about trying to avenge my mom’s murder hundreds of times over the years—dreamed about it, longed for it, ached to do it. But in the end, I’d had to let the fantasy go. Victor Draconi had too much money, too much magic, and too many guards for someone like me to ever touch him. I doubted that I could even get close enough to key one of his cars, much less run him through with my sword. Besides, I liked living a little too much to throw my life away on some suicide revenge mission. Still, every time I heard his name, every time I saw him, every time I thought about him, I wondered what I could do to make him pay for murdering my mom.

Now, I was in the same room with him, closer than I’d ever been before, and I still couldn’t touch him. Because the second I tried, his guards would be all over me. They’d take me in the alley out back, execute me, and leave my body for the monsters to fight over. And they’d probably do the same thing to Devon, Felix, Claudia, and the rest of the Sinclairs.

So I stood there, rage smoldering in my heart, and watched the man I hated more than anything else hold court.

Victor was the only one who didn’t make any effort to move around. He stayed in his seat and made everyone come to him instead. It was an obvious show of his power, but more than one person came forward. It was a wonder that some fawning Family members didn’t bend down and kiss the gold cuff on his wrist.

I grabbed a bottle of water from one of the waiters, just so it would look like I had something to do, and noticed Deah heading in my direction. Wonderful.

Her blue eyes scanned the crowd, as if she was looking for someone. Felix, probably. She looked at me and did a double-take. Instead of walking on, she actually came over to me.

“You again,” she said.

“Yeah. Me again.”

Instead of making some snide comment and moving on, Deah glanced around, as if she was afraid someone would overhear her. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened at the arcade with Poppy. Blake was way out of line.”

“No. Really?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. That would be Poppy.”

Deah stared across the room, where Poppy was standing with Hiroshi, Felix, Devon, and Claudia.