Cold Burn of Magic(9)

“Great,” I lied. “Just like having my own apartment.”

Mo opened his mouth to ask me another question, but I cut him off. I liked Mo, but I didn’t want or need him butting into my business. I could take care of myself. I’d been doing it for a long time now.

“Speaking of work, you got anything else for me?”

He hesitated. “Actually, I think we should cool it for a few weeks. I’ve been hearing some rumblings about trouble between the Families. I think it’s best if we lay low and wait to see how things shake out.”

Despite the fact that they already got a piece of everything in town, the Families were always fighting for more—more magic, more money, more power. So squabbles between them were common. And so were feuds among their own members. Most of the Family connections were based on blood ties, since that’s how the Sinclairs and Draconis had started out way back when. If you were kin, you were in, no matter how distantly related, rich, or powerful—or not—you might be. But today, all the Families accepted whoever might be useful, provided that you had enough magic, money, and power to buy your way into their good graces.

Still, there was one Family that stood above all the others—the Draconis.

They were the ones with the most magic, money, and power, and they were always ready, willing, and eager to grab more. Most of the feuds between the Families had started because of the Draconis, and the Draconis were the ones who ended them—usually in blood.

The Sinclairs were the only ones powerful enough to stand up to the Draconis, and even they had to pick and choose their battles or risk the other Family wiping them out.

“So who’s been stupid enough to piss off the Draconis now?” I asked, more curious than I should have been, than I wanted to be. “Is that what this is about?”

Mo shook his head. “Not exactly.”

“So what is it about, exactly?”

He shook his head again. I thought about pressing him for an answer but decided not to. It didn’t matter. Despite my run-in with Deah, I didn’t have anything to do with the Draconis or the other Families, and I preferred to keep it that way.

“Anyway,” Mo chirped, dipping his hand into the cash register and passing me some bills. “Here you go.”

I didn’t even have to count the bills to realize there were a few missing. “Nice try, but we agreed on seven-fifty. Not five hundred.”

He waved his hand. “Fine, fine. But I’ll have to go into the back to get the rest. It’s been a slow day.”

Mo grumbled about my robbing him as he pulled a key ring out of his pants pocket, flipped through the keys, and plugged one into a hole that was embedded in a door in the back wall. He cranked the key, and the door popped outward, swinging open. More glass cases featuring all sorts of goods lined the hallway on the other side before the area opened up into a crowded living room. Since the Razzle Dazzle was at the back of the square, Mo had some extra space that doubled as his home behind the storefront.

“Stay here. I’ll be back.”

I snorted. “As if I’m going to leave without the rest of my money. I’m sure you’d conveniently forget all about the extra cash you owe me the second I walk out the door.”

“Would I do something like that?” he asked in an indignant tone, puffing up his broad shoulders in protest.

“Absolutely.”

He grinned before disappearing. Sometimes, I thought he enjoyed haggling and trying to pull one over on me more than anything else. We had played this game ever since I was a kid trying to con him into buying me two ice cream cones instead of just one. Still, despite his grumblings, Mo had been good to me. He was the only one who’d really cared when my mom had died, and he was the only one who’d tried to help me after she was gone. I owed him for that.

Mo had just closed the door behind him when the lochness bones over the front door rattled, and a girl stepped inside the shop.

She was a brunette, prettier, taller, and older than me, with a long, lean body. She entered the shop and stood in the doorway, as if she expected someone to leap out from behind one of the glass cases and attack. Her brown gaze flicked over the store, analyzing everything inside, and she had a sword strapped to her waist. So she was protection then, a bodyguard dragged along for some rich kids’ shopping spree.

The girl stepped to one side of the door so that two guys could enter. The first guy was undeniably cute, with wavy black hair, bronze skin, and the kind of dark, soulful eyes that girls write poems about. He started wandering through the aisles, looking at everything and nothing in particular.

But it was the second guy who caught my eye. Like the girl, he, too, paused by the door, seeming even more wary than she looked. The sunlight streaming in through the windows highlighted the rich honey in his dark chocolate brown hair, even as it cast his face in shadow. The tan skin of his arms resembled marble—hard, but smooth and supple at the same time.

He must have passed through the mist spewed up by the fountain outside, because his black T-shirt was wet in places and the damp patches clung to his skin. The wetness allowed me to see just how muscled his chest was. Oh, yeah, I totally ogled that part of him, right up until I spotted the silver cuff on his right wrist.

Given the angle, I couldn’t tell what crest was stamped into the metal, but I glanced at the others, who also wore cuffs. I sighed. So they belonged to some Family then. Wonderful. This day just kept getting better.