Cold Burn of Magic

But it was the second guy who caught my eye. Like the girl, he, too, paused by the door, seeming even more wary than she looked. The sunlight streaming in through the windows highlighted the rich honey in his dark chocolate brown hair, even as it cast his face in shadow. The tan skin of his arms resembled marble—hard, but smooth and supple at the same time.

 

He must have passed through the mist spewed up by the fountain outside, because his black T-shirt was wet in places and the damp patches clung to his skin. The wetness allowed me to see just how muscled his chest was. Oh, yeah, I totally ogled that part of him, right up until I spotted the silver cuff on his right wrist.

 

Given the angle, I couldn’t tell what crest was stamped into the metal, but I glanced at the others, who also wore cuffs. I sighed. So they belonged to some Family then. Wonderful. This day just kept getting better.

 

I stayed at the counter and watched the three of them walk deeper into the store. They passed by all of the junk in the front, only slowing down when they reached the back half and the beginning of the genuine, expensive items. Then they started roaming through the aisles, going from one case to the next, whispering to each other.

 

Well, actually, only the girl was whispering. The first guy looked bored, although he did perk up when they passed by a case that contained some old chemistry sets.

 

The bodyguard noticed me watching them, and she gave me a suspicious look, taking in my cheap clothes and casual stance, as well as my battered backpack sitting on the counter. She kept her hand on her sword, but she relaxed when she realized I didn’t have a weapon. Her mistake. I couldn’t carry a sword with me to the rube high school, but I always wore a thick, wide belt around my waist—one that had several hidden slots and was studded with three stars. They might look like pretty decorations, but they were actually black blade throwing stars, and I had excellent aim.

 

I was so focused on the bodyguard that I lost track of the second guy. I didn’t see him approach me until he was standing next to my elbow.

 

“Excuse me.”

 

I turned my head to him. Once I did, I didn’t want to look away.

 

His face was as hard and chiseled as the rest of him, and his eyes were an intense green that was completely mesmerizing. He drifted a little closer to me, and I caught a whiff of his scent, sharp, fresh, and tangy, like pine needles. It suited him. In a strange way, he reminded me of the forests that covered Cloudburst Mountain—deep, dark, and utterly mysterious.

 

“Do you know where Mo is?” he asked, his voice low, deep, and melodic, like a river rushing by.

 

“You know Mo?”

 

He nodded. “I met him over at the Midway a few days ago. He had a booth next to one of the fountains. I need a birthday present for my mom, and he said he might have something here that she’d like.”

 

Something that I’d stolen or he’d conned from someone was more like it, but I decided not to ruin Mo’s potential sale. Maybe he’d give me a bonus for keeping the guy here until he returned.

 

“Mo’s in the back,” I said. “He should be out soon.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

The guy smiled at me, and I glanced at him again just in time to look directly into his eyes.

 

My mistake.

 

Sight was a common Talent, but my magic went beyond seeing the world with crystal clarity or being able to navigate through the dark like it was daylight.

 

Because I could also see into people.

 

All I had to do was stare into someone’s eyes, and I knew exactly what they were feeling at that moment, whether it was love, hate, anger, or something else. Not only that, but I could actually feel the emotion in my own heart, just like the person who was experiencing it. Soulsight, it was called. A major Talent and one that I could have done without. Most people didn’t have a lot of nice thoughts, feelings, or emotions, not even toward their own so-called friends and family.

 

But this guy . . . he radiated cold sorrow, as though he was carrying around a heavy burden that he could never, ever be free from. Still, there was a rock-hard strength mixed in with his sorrow, along with a flicker of something else buried deep, deep down . . . a hot spark that I couldn’t quite identify.

 

I knew in an instant that he was the sort of guy who was exceedingly loyal to his friends. Who felt responsible for others. Who tried to help people as much as he could even if they didn’t deserve it, and he ended up being the one who got hurt instead. The sort of guy that others saw as a leader and naturally flocked to. The sort of guy who was just so disgustingly fascinating that you couldn’t help wanting to know more about him.

 

The guy kept smiling, although his expression grew thinner and fainter the longer I stared. But I couldn’t help it. For the first time in a long time, I was completely captivated by another person. In that moment, all I wanted to do was peel back the cool exterior of his emotions and see what really lay beneath—and especially see what would happen when that hot spark inside him flared to life and he finally let out his true feelings.

 

But there was also something disturbingly . . . familiar about him. As though I’d met him someplace before, although I couldn’t quite remember where. I kept staring into his green eyes, hoping that my soulsight would kick in a tiny bit more and bring the knowledge, the memory, along with it . . .

 

The older girl, the bodyguard, stepped over to us, her hand dropping to her sword in a clear warning—to me.

 

“What are you doing, Devon?” she asked.

 

Devon. Even his name was disgustingly fascinating. Of course it would be. And it caused him to seem even more familiar, like I should know exactly who he was—

 

Devon sighed and looked at her, breaking my connection to him. “Nothing, Ashley. Just talking to . . .”

 

“Lila,” I replied, shaking my head to get rid of the last of his emotions.

 

Devon nodded. “Lila.”

 

The first guy moved over to the counter where the three of us were standing.

 

“Lila?” he said, his voice a sly, flirty drawl. “A pretty name for a very pretty girl.”

 

He flashed me a wide, mischievous grin that no doubt caused girls to swoon and write a second poem about him, this one focused on his dreamy smile.

 

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