Cold Burn of Magic

“Yeah,” Poppy agreed, resting her hand on his arm. “Might as well get it over with.”

 

 

The two of them stepped up to the booth and bought tickets for themselves, as well as for me, Felix, and Grant, who had finally finished his conversation with the Volkov guards. Together, the five of us entered the arcade.

 

Like everything else on the Midway, the arcade was loud, bright, and colorful, with fluttering streamers, bobbing balloons, and flashing lights everywhere you looked. Games, rides, prizes, food. The arcade featured all that and more, although none of us was really interested in any of its offerings today. Our little group stayed together, aimlessly wandering around.

 

We weren’t the only kids here, and we passed more than a few who belonged to the other Families, ready to have a good time now that school was out for the summer. And they were all extremely interested in Devon and Poppy. More than a few of the kids whispered to each other, pulled out their phones, and snapped photos, before texting the juicy gossip about Devon and Poppy being seen together to their friends and everyone else in their Families.

 

I snorted. Sometimes, I thought the Families played more games with each other than there were in all of the Midway.

 

Poppy started talking to Felix, since his mouth was once again going a hundred miles an hour. Grant stuck his hands in his pockets and ambled along with them.

 

That left me to walk beside Devon. Every time he moved, I caught a whiff of his scent, that sharp, crisp tang of pine. Despite myself, I kept breathing it in, even though it was stupid of me.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I imagine this isn’t what you were expecting.”

 

“Watching you go out on some fake date with a girl from another Family?” I shrugged. “It’s okay.”

 

Devon fell silent, and we wandered through the arcade for ten more minutes before Felix insisted that Poppy had to have ice cream. She giggled as he bowed and handed her the tall, sprinkle-covered, vanilla-swirled concoction. She took a bite out of it, turned around, and accidentally rammed straight into a guy behind her, smearing ice cream all over his red shirt—one emblazoned with the gold Draconi dragon crest.

 

The guy was built like a brick wall—tall and wide, with a body that was all solid muscle. He looked down at the ice cream and sprinkles dripping off his shirt, then slowly raised his head. The sun warmed his blond hair, but his brown eyes were as cold as chips of stone in his face.

 

I sucked in a breath, recognizing the guy the same way I had his sister.

 

Blake Draconi, Deah’s older brother, the bruiser and second-in-command of the Draconi Family.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

 

Poppy’s mouth opened and closed as she realized what she’d done—and to whom.

 

“Oh no,” she whispered.

 

But I had to hand it to her. She pulled herself together and held out a hand in apology.

 

“Blake! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you.”

 

At six feet, Blake towered over the petite, slender Poppy, and the twist of his lips told everyone how angry he was. And he wasn’t alone. Five guys, all wearing red Draconi T-shirts and gold cuffs, and all with swords strapped to their waists, formed a semicircle behind him. And Deah was here, too, standing off to Blake’s right, looking back and forth between her brother and Poppy.

 

Blake sneered at Poppy. “I didn’t know that Itos were blind. I thought they were just deaf and dumb.”

 

Poppy gasped at the insult, but she still tried to smile in the face of his anger, although her expression quickly wilted.

 

“Leave her alone, Blake.” Devon stepped up beside her. “It was an accident.”

 

Blake sneered at him, too. “Oh, look. A Sinclair errand boy. Why don’t you run home and cry like the rest of your pathetic loser Family does?”

 

Devon’s hands clenched into fists, but Poppy put herself in between the two guys.

 

“I’m sorry, Blake,” she repeated. “I’ll buy you another shirt.”

 

He smiled, although the expression was as predatory as any monster’s. “Actually, sweet thing, why don’t you give me the shirt off your back? Oops. I meant your whole dress, since you’re not wearing a shirt. Now, that’s something I’d really like to see. What about you, boys?”

 

He snickered, and his friends laughed with him. The only one who didn’t join in his cruel fun was Deah, who gave her brother a guarded look.

 

Poppy’s hands fisted in the folds of her sundress, but she lifted her chin. “Forget it,” she said in a disgusted voice.

 

She started to turn away, but Blake grabbed her arm and yanked her up against his body. Devon, Felix, and Grant all surged forward, but Blake’s friends stepped up and drew their swords. Devon managed to dodge them, but the Draconis cornered Felix and Grant against the side of the ice cream shack, forcing Devon to pull up short of tackling Blake.

 

“What do you think you three losers are going to do?” Blake sneered. “Well? What are you going to do, Morales? Heal me to death?”

 

Blake and his friends snickered; Deah winced. So healing must be Felix’s Talent. It was nothing to be embarrassed about, but Felix’s lips pinched together in anger.

 

“Leave him alone, Blake,” Devon growled, his hands still clenched into fists.

 

“At least Morales has a Talent,” Blake said, still sneering. “Unlike you, you useless freak.”

 

Devon didn’t have a Talent? No magic at all? Maybe that’s why Claudia thought he needed a bodyguard.

 

Blake turned his venomous glare to Grant. “And you, I don’t even know who you are.”

 

Grant’s lips twisted much the same way Blake’s had.

 

“Blake,” Deah said, a clear warning in her voice. “That’s enough.”

 

He gave his sister the same wicked sneer. “It’s enough when I say it’s enough.”

 

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