Cold Burn of Magic by Jennifer Estep Page A

Someone had already tried to kill Devon once; it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think they’d try again. And if I was the one standing between Devon and more assassins, well, it wouldn’t turn out so great for me .
    Mo, Claudia, and the others got out of their seats and walked around the glass partition. I stalked over to Mo the second his flip-flops touched the mats.
    â€œAre you out of your greedy little mind?” I hissed.
    â€œWhat were you thinking, offering me up as a bodyguard ?”
    â€œWell, it was better than them throwing you in the dungeon here, which is what Claudia originally wanted to do,” Mo murmured. “Just trust me on this, okay, Lila? Please?”
    There was that stupid please again. If Mo kept doling those out, I wouldn’t know what to do when he returned to his usual greedy self and stopped using them. Still, the please made me hold my tongue. For now.
    Devon started speaking in a low voice to his mom. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he didn’t look happy. Probably insisting that he didn’t need a new bodyguard, and rightly so. From what I’d seen, Devon Sinclair was more than capable of taking care of himself.
    But he finally sighed and nodded, giving in to whatever order his mom had given him. The two of them approached me and Mo.
    â€œDevon,” Claudia said. “Why don’t you take Mr. Kaminsky and everyone else to the dining hall and see if they’d like some refreshments? I would like to speak to Miss Merriweather alone.”
    â€œBut—” Devon began.
    Claudia gave him a pointed look, and he sighed again and walked past her toward the doors. She gestured to Mo. He gave me a sly smile and hurried after Devon. So did Grant, Reginald, and the two men standing guard. Mo pulled the doors shut behind him, leaving me alone with Claudia.
    I raised my chin, not giving her any inkling of the uncertainty chewing through my gut like a chainsaw. I didn’t know what sort of game she was playing, but I was nobody’s fool—or pawn.
    â€œI know all of this has been upsetting,” Claudia said. “Perhaps I should have done things differently.”
    â€œNo. Really?”
    She ignored my sarcasm. “But several threats have been made against my son’s life in recent months. Threats that have already resulted in the loss of several of our most trusted guards, including Ashley.”
    Her lips pinched together, and her green eyes darkened, almost as if she felt genuine sorrow over Ashley’s death, but she turned away before I could get a lock on her emotions.
    â€œIn the past, it has been a great honor to serve as one of the Sinclair guards, but Ashley is the third person this year to die protecting Devon,” she murmured. “Because of that and some other matters, there have been some . . . defections from the Family recently.”
    I finally understood what she was getting at—and why I’d been brought here.
    I snorted. “Let me guess. Nobody else in the Family wants to get killed protecting Devon, so you’ve decided to strong-arm me into doing it, right? Because who will really care if some random girl off the streets dies as long as your precious son lives?”
    Claudia shrugged, not even trying to deny it. “Something like that.”
    â€œWow. You are arrogant.”
    Coldhearted bitch was more like it, but even I wasn’t going to be rude and stupid enough to say that to her. She could always summon some guards to throw me in the dungeon, like Mo had said. Or have me killed where I stood.
    â€œNot arrogant. Practical,” Claudia countered. “No one likes it when a Sinclair dies, especially protecting someone like my son from the other Families and their plots.”
    Someone like her son? What did that mean? Was there something wrong with Devon? Some evil lurking inside him I hadn’t seen?
    â€œOh, my heart bleeds for y’all,” I