Read Online Cold Burn of Magic by Jennifer Estep - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Estep
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a dead girlâone who was too much like me for my peace of mind.
A strange emotion seized me, and I stripped off my T-shirt, wrapped it in some paper towels from the dispenser by the sink, and shoved it into the bottom of the trash can. Then I cranked up the faucet as high and hot as it would go, grabbed another wad of paper towels, and started scrubbing at all the blood, even though my hands were shaking so badly that all I really did was fling water everywhere.
It took me longer than it should have to get my emotions under control, but ten minutes later, my hands were steady, my gut was calm, and the nausea was a fading memory. I wiped all the crimson stains off my skin and got the worst of them out of my pants and off my sneakers. I flipped off the faucet and stood there shivering in my bra and wet pants, but Iâd used up all the paper towels, and I didnât feel like going into the menâs bathroom to get more.
I leaned forward and peered at my reflection again. Shoulder-length black hair, pale skin, a puffy blue bruise that had bloomed on my cheek from where the guy had hit me in the pawnshop. I looked much more like myself now. Maybe my blue eyes were a little darker and more haunted than theyâd been before, but that was nothing new, either.
You didnât do the things I didâlie, steal, cheat, and killâwithout having a few bad things happen to you along the way. You didnât pick-pocket tourists who were only in town to have a good time without feeling a smidge of guilt. You didnât kill simple, hungry creatures who were only doing what came naturally to them by trying to eat you without getting a few dings on your conscience. And you especially didnât witness the aftermath of your momâs murder and realize there was nothing you could do to save her without getting more than a few rips and tears in your heart.
My thoughts turned to Devon, and I wondered what scars heâd have from today, from watching his bodyguard die protecting him. No doubt theyâd be far worse than mine. I wondered if Devonâs emotions would harden and if that hot spark that burned so deep inside him would be extinguished after this, smothered by all the guilt he felt. Hard to tell.
I grabbed my phone from my backpack. No message from Mo. I wondered what he had done after I left the Razzle Dazzle. He would have had to call someone about the attack. Since Devon, Felix, and Ashley had belonged to one of the Families, the regular mortal cops wouldnât get involved, but somebody would have to do something, if only to remove the dead menâs bodies from the shop and sweep everything under the proverbial rug.
But there was no way for me to get answers to my questions until Mo decided to contact me.
So I gathered up my things, turned out the lights, left the bathroom, and headed down to the basement to go to bed, even though I knew it would be hours before I actually fell asleep.
Â
After a night of bloody dreams, I quickly dressed and went to school the next morning, but my thoughts lingered on Ashley. I wondered how long sheâd been a Family bodyguard. I wondered if Devon and Felix were really her friends or just a job. I wondered if she had a familyâa real familyâand not just the stupid mob sheâd joined for whatever reason.
I wondered a lot of things I shouldnât have.
But the school day passed by like any other. And so did the next one . . . and the one after that . . . and the one after that . . .
Mo sent me a few cryptic texts, saying that he was taking care of things, but he didnât call me, and I didnât dare go by the pawnshop until he gave me the all-clear. So the days went by, and I still didnât know what, if anything, was going on.
The suspense was driving me crazy, but there was nothing I could do but schlep to school every day, find a diner to hang out in until the library closed for the night, and pick a few tourist pockets to
A strange emotion seized me, and I stripped off my T-shirt, wrapped it in some paper towels from the dispenser by the sink, and shoved it into the bottom of the trash can. Then I cranked up the faucet as high and hot as it would go, grabbed another wad of paper towels, and started scrubbing at all the blood, even though my hands were shaking so badly that all I really did was fling water everywhere.
It took me longer than it should have to get my emotions under control, but ten minutes later, my hands were steady, my gut was calm, and the nausea was a fading memory. I wiped all the crimson stains off my skin and got the worst of them out of my pants and off my sneakers. I flipped off the faucet and stood there shivering in my bra and wet pants, but Iâd used up all the paper towels, and I didnât feel like going into the menâs bathroom to get more.
I leaned forward and peered at my reflection again. Shoulder-length black hair, pale skin, a puffy blue bruise that had bloomed on my cheek from where the guy had hit me in the pawnshop. I looked much more like myself now. Maybe my blue eyes were a little darker and more haunted than theyâd been before, but that was nothing new, either.
You didnât do the things I didâlie, steal, cheat, and killâwithout having a few bad things happen to you along the way. You didnât pick-pocket tourists who were only in town to have a good time without feeling a smidge of guilt. You didnât kill simple, hungry creatures who were only doing what came naturally to them by trying to eat you without getting a few dings on your conscience. And you especially didnât witness the aftermath of your momâs murder and realize there was nothing you could do to save her without getting more than a few rips and tears in your heart.
My thoughts turned to Devon, and I wondered what scars heâd have from today, from watching his bodyguard die protecting him. No doubt theyâd be far worse than mine. I wondered if Devonâs emotions would harden and if that hot spark that burned so deep inside him would be extinguished after this, smothered by all the guilt he felt. Hard to tell.
I grabbed my phone from my backpack. No message from Mo. I wondered what he had done after I left the Razzle Dazzle. He would have had to call someone about the attack. Since Devon, Felix, and Ashley had belonged to one of the Families, the regular mortal cops wouldnât get involved, but somebody would have to do something, if only to remove the dead menâs bodies from the shop and sweep everything under the proverbial rug.
But there was no way for me to get answers to my questions until Mo decided to contact me.
So I gathered up my things, turned out the lights, left the bathroom, and headed down to the basement to go to bed, even though I knew it would be hours before I actually fell asleep.
Â
After a night of bloody dreams, I quickly dressed and went to school the next morning, but my thoughts lingered on Ashley. I wondered how long sheâd been a Family bodyguard. I wondered if Devon and Felix were really her friends or just a job. I wondered if she had a familyâa real familyâand not just the stupid mob sheâd joined for whatever reason.
I wondered a lot of things I shouldnât have.
But the school day passed by like any other. And so did the next one . . . and the one after that . . . and the one after that . . .
Mo sent me a few cryptic texts, saying that he was taking care of things, but he didnât call me, and I didnât dare go by the pawnshop until he gave me the all-clear. So the days went by, and I still didnât know what, if anything, was going on.
The suspense was driving me crazy, but there was nothing I could do but schlep to school every day, find a diner to hang out in until the library closed for the night, and pick a few tourist pockets to
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