Cold Burn of Magic(94)

Beside me, Devon shifted on his feet, moving out of the bright, direct sun into a pool of dappled shadows closer to the tree. The warm rays filtered down through the branches and danced across his muscled body, showing off his intense green eyes, rugged features, and the honey highlights in his dark chocolate brown hair. I breathed in, catching a whiff of his crisp pine scent, mixed in with the sticky sweetness of the splattered persimmons. Just standing near Devon made my heart do a funny little pitter-patter in my chest, but I ignored the sensation, just as I’d been doing for weeks now.

“What do you want to do about the troll?” I asked. “Because I don’t think he’s coming down from there without a fight.”

Devon was the bruiser, or second-in-command, of the Sinclair Family, responsible for overseeing all the Family guards and dealing with the monster problems that arose in Sinclair territory. Most of the bruisers for the various Families were arrogant jerks who enjoyed bossing people around and taking advantage of the other perks of their powerful position. But Devon was a genuinely good guy who treated everyone in his Family equally, from the smallest pixie to the toughest guard. Plus, he would do anything to help his friends and the folks he cared about, something he’d proven by putting himself in danger time and time again.

Devon’s inherent goodness and devotion to others were two of the many things that made me like him way more than I should. His soulful green eyes, teasing grin, and rocking body didn’t hurt matters, either.

Me? Good and I weren’t exactly close friends, and the only devotion I had was to myself, and making sure I had plenty of cash in my pockets, food in my stomach, and a warm, dry place to sleep. I was a loner thief who’d spent the last four years living in the shadows, until a few weeks ago when I’d been recruited to be Devon’s bodyguard. Not that he really needed a guard. Devon was a tough fighter who could take care of himself—and then some.

“Well, I say we pick up all the fruit that’s still in one piece and chuck it right back at the troll,” another voice suggested in a snide tone. “Let him see how it feels to get splattered for a change.”


I looked over at Felix Morales, Devon’s best friend and another Sinclair Family member. With his wavy black hair, bronze skin, and dark brown eyes, Felix was even more handsome than Devon, despite the fact he was also covered in pulp. Not that I would ever tell him that. Felix was already a terrible flirt. We’d been in the square for ten minutes, and he’d spent more time grinning at the tourist girls who wandered by than trying to figure out what to do about the troll.

Felix winked at two girls in tank tops and short-shorts who were sitting on a nearby bench sipping lemonade, then waggled his fingers at them. The girls giggled and waved back.

I elbowed him in the side. “Try to pay attention.”

Felix shot me a sour look and rubbed his side.

“What do you normally do about tree trolls who throw things at tourists?” I asked.

Devon shrugged. “Usually, we don’t have to do all that much. Most of the trolls stay in the trees in their designated habitat areas in and around the Midway. Whenever they start making pests of themselves, we send some guards over to tell them to either cut it out or move back up the mountain where they can do whatever they want.”

I nodded. Like most monsters, tree trolls could understand human speech, even if mortals and magicks couldn’t really understand them all that well.

“Usually, that’s the end of it, but this guy doesn’t seem to want to leave,” Devon said. “He’s still here, despite the guards that I sent over yesterday. And he’s not the only one. I’ve heard rumors that all the other Families are having similar problems with trolls. Seems like something has them spooked, causing them to come down the mountain in record numbers.”

As soon as Devon said the word leave, the tree troll started jumping up and down even faster than before, its cheep-cheep-cheeps growing louder and louder. The high-pitched shrieks stabbed into my brain, making me grateful that enhanced hearing wasn’t one of my Talents. The creature was plenty loud enough already without the sound being magically amplified.

All around us, the tourists stopped slurping down their jumbo sodas, noshing on their giant wads of cotton candy, and snapping photos of the bubbling fountain in the middle of the square. They all turned to stare in our direction, curious about the commotion. I dropped my head and slid behind Felix, trying to blend into the background as much as possible. As a thief, I’d never liked being the center of attention. Kind of hard to pick someone’s pocket or snag a watch off her wrist when she was looking straight at you. I might not be here to steal anything, but old habits die hard.

Devon looked at me. “Do you think you can use your soulsight to see what he’s so upset about?”

“Yeah,” Felix chimed in. “Let the great Lila Merriweather do her magic mojo. She is the monster whisperer, after all.”

I reached over and punched him in the shoulder.

“Hey!” Felix said, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”

“I am not a monster whisperer.”

He rolled his eyes. “Did you or did you not feed three guys to a lochness a few weeks ago?”

I winced. That was exactly what I’d done. I didn’t even feel bad about it, since the guys had been trying to kill Devon and me at the time. But I’d always been secretive about my magic, my Talents, and all the things my mom had taught me about dealing with monsters. I’d had to be, since I wanted to keep my magic firmly inside my own body and not have someone rip it out of me to use himself. So I wasn’t used to Felix or anyone else joking about it so openly. Every time he or Devon made a comment about my magic, I looked around, wondering who might have overheard and what they might do to me in order to get my power.