Cold Burn of Magic(91)

I shook my head. “Wow. You are way too noble for your own good.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “People are responsible for their own actions. Grant decided to hurt people to get what he wanted, so that’s what he did. There’s no excuse for it. Don’t you dare make excuses for him and everything he did.”

Devon nodded, and he was quiet again, although I could almost see the gears spinning in his brain. “There’s one more thing I want to know.”

I tensed, knowing what was coming next, that he was going to ask me how I’d escaped at the slaughterhouse; I was already planning what lies to tell him.

“It’s about your transference power.”

I blinked. Apparently, I didn’t know what was coming next because I’d never dreamed it would be that.

Devon stared at me. “That’s how you got out of your ropes, right? Grant used the same ones on me, so I know how thick they were. But you snapped out of them like they were nothing—after those guys used their strength to hold you still.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t say anything. Suddenly, I could barely breathe. One of my deepest, darkest secrets, and Devon was talking about it like it was an action movie we’d both watched. First, Claudia. Now, her son. The Sinclairs were a lot smarter than I’d given them credit for.

“And when we were running toward the bridge? I could barely keep up with you,” he continued. “You were the one pulling me along, Lila, even though you were hurt a lot worse than I was. That happened after I used my compulsion on you. And I started thinking about all the other times I’ve seen you fight, and how you always seem to get stronger after someone uses their strength or speed against you. That’s transference, right?”

I wet my lips. “How—how do you know about my magic?”

He shrugged. “When I was a kid and found out about my own power, I started reading about all the different kinds of Talents. Whenever I meet someone new, I try to figure out what their magic is. It took me a lot longer with you than with anyone else, though.”

I kept staring and staring at him.

“Don’t worry,” he said, noticing the sick, stricken look on my face. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I think it’s cool. That we’re sort of the same when it comes to our magic.”

He smiled, and some of the knots in my stomach loosened. He would keep my secret.

Devon hesitated, then reached over and put his hand on top of mine. His skin was warm, as though the sun had soaked into his body. I breathed in, and the crisp, clean scent of him filled my nose, the one that made me want to bury my face in his neck and inhale the essence of him over and over again. But I forced myself to exhale and step back, putting some distance between us, even though our hands were still touching.

“Look,” I said, my voice carefully neutral. “You’re a nice guy, a great guy. But I’m going to . . . be here for a while. You’re an important member of the Family, and I’m your bodyguard, so it’s my job to protect you, and we’re going to have to work together. But I don’t think there should be anything . . . else.”

“Because of your mom, right?” he asked in a low voice. “Because you blame me for her death?”

I sucked in a breath, so rattled that I couldn’t even pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about. First, my magic, and now this. Somehow, Devon knew all my secrets.

“How do you know about my mom?” I croaked out.

“I remember everything about that day in the park,” he said. “Including the girl with the blue eyes who helped save me.”

I didn’t say anything. I could barely even hear him over the roar of my own heartbeat in my ears.

“It took me a while to figure out why you seemed so familiar. When I realized you reminded me of the girl in the park, I knew it had to be you. Mom would never have brought you here otherwise. Plus, there are several photos of your mother in the library. You look just like her. I know what happened to her. I’m sorry that she died because of me—so sorry.”

His green gaze locked with mine, that old, familiar guilt flaring to life in his eyes and punching me in the gut. And once again, I found myself wanting to comfort him.

“I don’t blame you for her death,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault. It was all the Draconis.”

“Do you really mean that?” he whispered.

“I do.”

Devon closed the distance between us and stared down at me. I let myself look into his eyes for another heartbeat.

Then I pulled my hand out from under his and stepped away.

Hurt flashed in his gaze before he could hide it. I wanted to stop. I wanted to tell him that I felt this thing, this attraction, this heat between us just as much as he did. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck, pull his lips down to mine, and lose myself in him.

But I couldn’t.

Not when I was planning on leaving the mansion, the Family, and him, the second I thought it was safe. I already cared about Devon way too much. And Felix and Oscar and even Claudia. I didn’t need to fall any farther down that rabbit hole, especially where Devon was concerned, because I knew exactly where I would end up—with my heart broken.

“You said I saved your life last night. Well, you saved mine, too,” I said. “So I would say that we’re even. There’s no need for thanks or anything . . . else. Does that work for you?”