Cold Burn of Magic (20 page)

He cut off his words, but I knew what he'd been about to say, and why Claudia was so worried about his safety.

“Actually, the men would have killed me and Felix, but they would have let Devon live,” I said. “At least for a little while.”

Claudia frowned. “And how do you know that?”

“Because the mystery man wasn't trying to kill Devon,” I said. “He was trying to kidnap him.”

C
laudia's face remained blank, but her gaze flicked to her son, just for a second. But that was long enough to confirm my suspicion that something else was going on here than someone simply trying to kill Devon.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“The guys who attacked us all had swords, and they were very eager to use them on me, and Felix, too. But when the mystery man finally got close enough to Devon to kill him, he didn't run Devon through with his sword. Instead, he clamped his hand over Devon's mouth, put a dagger to his neck, and tried to drag him off. If he wanted your son dead, the mystery man could have stuck that dagger in his back easily enough. But he didn't. He wanted to take Devon—alive.”

Claudia and Devon didn't respond, so I decided to fill in the blanks for them. I knew most of the answers to my questions. All I needed now was some confirmation.

“Forget about the mystery man,” I said. “The really interesting thing is what happened during the attack.”

Devon tensed before he could stop himself, although Claudia remained calm.

“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

“I killed two of the men, but I was injured and the fight wasn't going my way. In fact, one of those guys was about to take my head off—until Devon opened his mouth and asked him to stop,” I said. “And surprise, surprise, the guy froze. Just like that.”

I snapped my fingers, and they both flinched at the sound.

“The guy stopped cold, even though I could tell exactly how much he wanted to kill me.”

I paused, but neither one of them said anything, so I continued.

“And not only did the guy
not
kill me, but Devon barked out a few more commands and the guy actually turned on his friends and started killing
them
instead. All on Devon's orders. He said exactly five words to the other man—
stop, turn around, protect us
—and that's exactly what the guy did, even though I could tell just how much he didn't want to.”

They still didn't respond.

“On the ride back to the mansion, I started thinking about the first fight in the Razzle Dazzle. And it occurred to me that the guy who attacked Devon didn't actually swing his sword at him. Instead, he grabbed Devon's neck. At the time, I thought the guy was going to choke him to death. But really, all he was doing was keeping pressure on Devon's throat so he couldn't speak. To keep him from giving any of his special
orders
.”

Silence. Absolute silence.

A minute ticked by, then two, then three.

Finally, Claudia sat up straight, raised her chin, and fixed me with a ruthless glare.

“You will never,
ever
tell anyone what Devon did in the library,” she snapped. “Or I will kill you myself.”

My mouth fell open. It was bad enough Claudia was forcing me to work for her Family, but I'd saved Devon from being kidnapped again. And now
she
was threatening
me
? With death?

Anger bubbled up inside me, as hot and bitter as acid. My hands clenched into fists, and I opened my mouth to tell Claudia Sinclair
exactly
what I thought of her—

“Enough, Mom,” Devon said. “That's enough. Lila saw what I did. I can't hide it from her. Not anymore.”

Claudia sucked in a breath. “Devon, think about this. You don't know what you're saying. The more people who know, the more—”

“Danger I'm in,” Devon finished. “Yeah. I got the memo on that a long time ago.”

He stared into the fireplace, even though it was cold and empty. I wondered if he was thinking back to that day on the Midway, when my mom had saved him and Claudia. I'd always wondered why he'd been targeted by so many men. I'd assumed it was because of some Family feud, but I was beginning to think his special power might be the real reason.

Devon shook off his memories and turned to me. Despite his bravado, the worry in his green eyes pinched my heart.

“It's my Talent,” he said. “What I did to that guy in the library . . . it's called compulsion. I tell someone what to do, and they automatically do it—whether they want to or not.”

Compulsion was a rare Talent. I'd heard of it, but I'd never actually met someone with the power to make other people act against their own free will. No wonder the mystery man wanted to kidnap Devon. As long as he held Devon prisoner, he could get Devon—and whoever he forced Devon to compel—to do exactly what he wanted.

Or worse, the mystery man could take Devon's Talent for himself, rip the magic right out of Devon's body, and kill him in the process. It was the same thing my mom had always feared would happen to me if someone learned about my transference power.

“Some Talent, huh?” Devon barked out a harsh laugh. “Tell her the rest of it.”

Claudia shook her head. “There's nothing else to tell.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You know that's not true.” He drew in a breath and looked at me again. “It's the reason my dad died. He was murdered because of my damn
Talent
.”

He said it as though it were a curse. Maybe it was, to him.

Claudia sighed. “Devon, you don't know that—”

“Yeah,” he said in a soft voice, his green eyes dark with guilt. “I do.”

Devon surged to his feet, stalked over to the doors, and wrenched one of them open. He stepped through the opening and yanked on the door from the other side, slamming it behind him. Claudia and I didn't say anything for several seconds.

“Who else knows?” I asked after the sharp echoes had faded away.

Claudia stared at the closed doors. “Only a few Family members. Angelo, Felix, and Reginald. Some of the pixies, including Oscar. People who would never betray the Family or Devon. People I trust.”

Meaning that she didn't trust me. Not exactly a news flash.

“I hope you will keep this newfound knowledge to yourself,” Claudia said in a stiff voice. “If not for Devon's sake, then for your own. The more people who know, the more danger my son is in. And by extension, everyone else in the Family. Especially you, since he seems to have taken a . . . liking to you.”

“Yeah,” I sniped. “Thanks for being
so
concerned about my well-being.”

Claudia's eyes narrowed. “You have a smart mouth on you.”

“I take after my mom that way.”

Something flashed in her eyes. It almost looked like . . . aching regret, but it vanished in an instant. I looked at her, wondering if I wasn't the only one keeping secrets, but her face was as cool as ever.

“Regardless, you should show more respect, especially to the head of your Family.”

My hands balled into fists. “You are
not
my family, mob or otherwise.”

She raised her chin even higher. “I am the head of the Sinclair Family, and you will treat me as such.”

“Yeah,” I sniped again. “Because you're so kind and generous to everyone in your Family. Like me, the girl you just threatened with death for the second time in less than a week. That
really
makes me want to be loyal to you.”

I didn't think it was possible, but her face became even frostier than before, as though her beautiful features had been carved out of stone. Marble left outside in a raging blizzard would have been warmer than her expression. Claudia opened her mouth, probably to threaten me again, but I waved my hand and cut her off.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I breathe a word to anyone about Devon, and you'll kill me. And let's throw in Mo, too, just for good measure, because that seems to be how you roll. Well, don't worry. I'm not going to say anything about Devon, and not because of your threats. Your son . . . he's a genuinely good guy. He doesn't deserve to be kidnapped or killed or to have his Talent ripped out of him.”

“Are you asking me to trust you?” Claudia asked. “A self-confessed liar and thief?”

I shrugged. “It doesn't seem to me like you have much choice. Kind of sucks, doesn't it? When someone has you by the throat like that? When they can take away someone you love just by saying a few words to the wrong person?”

Claudia blinked, as if she'd never considered it that way.

Not bothering to wait for her to respond, I stood and stormed out of the library.

 

I should have headed up to my bedroom to take a shower and wash away the rest of the blood from the fight. Instead, I slipped out onto one of the balconies, took hold of the nearest drainpipe, and started climbing.

I'd only gone about halfway up when I heard the sounds of something getting thoroughly whacked. Devon was up there, just like I'd thought he would be.

I climbed all the way to the top and swung myself from the drainpipe onto the roof. Devon stood in the middle of the scaffolding, beating the heavy bag. Déjà vu. He pointedly ignored me, continuing to wale away on the bag. Please. As if that would make me go away.

This time, I didn't wait for him to ask me to sit. I headed over to the far side of the roof, plopped down in one of the lawn chairs, and snagged an apple juice from the drink cooler. I cracked the bottle open and started sipping the juice while I propped my legs up on the iron railing that ringed the roof.

Then I waited.

It took him ten more minutes of intense, relentless pounding, but Devon finally worked off enough of his anger, guilt, and grief to leave the heavy bag behind. He slouched down in the chair next to me and grabbed a bottle of water.

We sat there for several minutes, with only his harsh, raspy breaths breaking the silence.

“I'm sorry about your dad,” I finally said. “I know what it's like to lose someone you love.”

Devon nodded, accepting my sympathy, but if anything, his face was even sadder than before. He gestured at the heavy bag, which was still swinging from his blows.

“My dad built all of this,” he said. “The scaffolding. The lights. He hung up the bags, the hammock, everything. He loved to box, and this was his own private hideout from everyone else in the Family, even my mom. I spent hours up here as a kid, watching him work on the bags and listening to him talk about how to throw the perfect punch.”

“Is that why you hardly ever carry a sword?”

Devon nodded, a brief smile flickering on his face. “My dad liked solving certain problems with his fists. I guess I do, too. Sometimes, it just feels good to punch something, you know?”

“Yeah.”

He blew out a tense breath. “If it was just my dad who was gone, that would be one thing. But it's not.”

“What do you mean?”

He pressed the water bottle to his forehead, as if the condensation on the plastic would cool his own turbulent thoughts.

“I mean it's everyone in the Family. My mom, Felix, Angelo, Grant, Reginald, the guards, the pixies. Everyone around me whenever I go down to the Midway or anywhere else outside the mansion. It's everyone I'm close to. Everyone I . . . care about.”

He didn't look at me as he said the last few words, but my heart fluttered all the same.

“They're all at risk because of me,” he continued. “Because I have this compulsion Talent, and some people out there would kill whoever got in their way just so they could take my magic for themselves.”

“Is that what happened with your dad?”

He nodded and started picking at the label on the bottle. “It was just like the attacks at the pawnshop and the library. The two of us had gone to a party that the Itos were throwing for the other Families. When it was over, we decided to walk through the Midway. But once we got to the car in the Family parking lot, these guys surrounded us.”

“Was it the mystery man? Did you see him?”

Devon shook his head. “Nah. It happened so fast, and it was too dark for me to see anyone's face. My dad and I fought them off the best we could, but my dad stepped up, protecting me.” He paused. “A guy ran him through with a sword right in front of me.”

I hesitated, then reached over and squeezed his hand. His fingers felt warm, swollen, bruised, and sweaty from where he'd been pounding on the bag, but Devon squeezed back, gently curling his fingers around mine, almost as if they were something precious that he was handling with great care. His thumb idly stroked over my skin, as soft as a raindrop sliding across it over and over again. My stomach clenched, and heat surged through my body.

“Sometimes, I wish I could get rid of my stupid magic,” Devon muttered. “I don't want it. I
never
wanted it.”

“Oh, I don't know,” I drawled, trying to focus on his words instead of the feel of his skin against mine. “I think it would be a pretty cool Talent to have. Getting folks to do anything you want with just a few words. I'd love to be able to use it on Oscar, if only to get him to like me, just a little.”

“You'd think so, until you realize that it's not real,” he said. “What I can make people do . . . it's not what
they
want to do. It may sound corny, but I want people to like me for
me,
not because I can force them to or because of who my mom is or who I am in the Family. You know?”

He raised his green gaze to my blue one. “That's one of the things I like about you, Lila. You don't care about any of that.”

“Just one of the things?” I teased, trying to make him laugh a little, just so he'd forget his guilt and grief, if only for a few moments.