Cold Burn of Magic
Page 89

“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?”
By this point, Devon’s face was as hard as the black marble of the mansion. “Yeah. That works. Sorry I bothered you. It won’t happen again.”
He turned and walked across the balcony. This time, instead of climbing up the drainpipe, he ran up the stairs, disappearing from sight, and he didn’t look back. Not even once. Good. I didn’t want him to, even though every one of his soft steps was like a knife in my heart.
This was for the best. I knew that. Really, I did.
But why did it have to hurt so much?
CHAPTER THIRTY
The next morning, Claudia called me down to the library before breakfast. She was sitting at her desk poring over some papers, but my gaze locked on to the black velvet box perched on the corner. It was the same size and shape as the one that had held the ruby necklace I’d stolen.
Claudia looked up at me, then stabbed her pen at the box. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to steal it. Take it. It’s yours.”
I pressed my hands to my heart and batted my eyes. “Diamonds? For me? You shouldn’t have.”
She snorted. “I don’t even buy myself diamonds.”
“Well, that’s a shame.”
She made a choking noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Claudia leaned back in her chair, watching me, so I slid the box off the desk and cracked it open.
A silver cuff lay inside.
“Every member of the Family wears one,” she said. “Go on. Put it on.”
I sighed and plucked the cuff out of the box. It was just like all the other Family cuffs I’d seen—a thin band of silver with the Sinclair crest stamped into the middle. With one difference. A tiny, star-shaped sapphire was embedded in the silver, as though whoever was holding the sword was wearing a small ring on her hand.
“It was Serena’s,” Claudia said in a soft voice. “I thought you would want it.”
My throat closed up. I nodded and slipped the cuff on my right wrist. It was lighter than I thought it would be. Instead of a shackle, it felt almost . . . nice. Like I was connected to my mom again. Like I was part of something.
Like I finally belonged somewhere.
“It’s not like the other cuffs,” I said.
“No,” Claudia replied. “It’s not.”
I traced my fingers over the crest, feeling the small points of the star catch against my skin. “Thank you for this,” I whispered.
Claudia nodded and went back to her papers. With the cuff on my wrist, I closed the black velvet box, tucked it into one of the pockets on my cargo pants, and left the library.
I thought that was the end of my not-so-formal initiation into the Sinclair Family, so I headed to the dining hall for breakfast. To my surprise, the others were already gathered around one of the tables—Felix, Devon, Oscar, and Mo.
“Lila! There you are!” Mo called out.