Cold Burn of Magic
Page 8

Mo huffed, but he put his magazine aside and crooked his finger at me. His buffed, manicured nails gleamed almost as brightly as the diamonds he wore. “Okay, kid, show me the necklace and whatever else you swiped.”
“How do you know I took something else?”
He grinned. “Because you never miss an opportunity to put more cash into your pocket. Just like me.”
I unzipped my backpack, drew out the black velvet box, and set it on the counter, along with the cuff links and other items I’d stolen. Mo caressed the velvet before cracking open the top.
“Hello, ladies,” he crooned to the rubies. “Come to Papa.”
Mo picked up the necklace and examined each one of the rubies in turn, making sure they were the real deal and not well-done fakes. He had a minor Talent for sight, but he didn’t need it, not when it came to this. He’d been in the business a long time, and nothing got past him.
“Well done, Lila,” Mo said. “The necklace is in perfect condition. Did you have any problems snatching it?”
I shrugged. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Mo nodded. He knew better than to ask questions about what happened on the jobs he sent me on, just as I knew better than to ask what would happen to the rubies now.
Mo put the necklace back into the box and snapped the lid shut. He examined the rest of the items I’d stolen, then moved over to the cash register, opened the drawer, and reached inside.
“And now for your payment—”
“One thousand,” I interrupted him.
He raised his eyebrows. “We agreed on five hundred.”
“That was before I ran into the three guys guarding the house, the ones who chased me across several rooftops and threatened to chop off my head. One thousand.”
“Five-fifty.”
“One thousand.”
“Six hundred.”
“Eight hundred.”
“Seven.”
“Seven-fifty.”
“Done.”
“Done.”
We shook on it, but Mo still gave me a sour look.
“Serena never upped her prices on me like this,” he grumbled.
For some reason I never quite understood, Mo and my mom had been friends. Like, good friends, for as long as I could remember. She was the only person who’d ever been able to make him laugh or smile or talk about something other than money. In a way, Mo had almost been like her manager, since most of the bodyguard gigs she’d taken on had come through him and his connections. Mom had asked Mo to look out for me, and after her death, I’d started doing errands for him, minding the shop, picking a few customer pockets, taking sensitive packages here and there. Eventually, I’d moved up to bigger, tougher, and better-paying jobs. Now, I was Mo’s go-to girl.
“Well, my mom was nicer than I am,” I quipped.
“No argument here.” Mo gave me another sour look, but then his face softened. “I haven’t seen you in a few days, kid. How are things?”
I shrugged. “Same old, same old. School, work, more school, more work.”
“And the library?”
“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.”