Page 12 of Magic Forsaken

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Page 12 of Magic Forsaken

Kira insisted on fussing, and inspected my cut for glass shards before washing and cleaning it thoroughly. Which Iprobably didn’t need. I’d healed faster than normal for several years now, but since I had no idea which part of my magic provided that bonus, I didn’t want anyone in this room to know about it.

While she worked, Callum and Draven carried on a softly worded conversation. Their words might not have been audible to human ears, but I was well able to pick them up, even over the muffled roar from the club.

Much to my annoyance.

“What does anyone know about her?” That was Callum.

“Not much,” Draven admitted. “Faris gave me a rundown before he left. Said she’s a refugee from somewhere. Was up front about the fact she’s hiding from someone, and her fight response suggests that someone wasn’t pleasant. Apparently, the courts are involved, but we don’t know how.”

“Assassin?” Callum again. The king of paranoia seemed determined to accuse me ofsomething.

“That was Faris’s first question,” Draven acknowledged. “But I’ve never heard of her, and I know pretty much everyone else in the business.”

Kira’s half-fae fiancé was anassassin? Who in all the heckwerethese people?

“Apparently, she stole a car,” Draven continued. “Also, Nico went to where she’s staying, and it seems there are kids involved.”

Fury cut through me like a knife. If they tried to use the kids against me… I knew I hadn’t managed to hide my reaction when Kira glanced up at me with a question in her eyes.

“Did that hurt?”

“No,” I assured her, bottling up that anger for later—saving it for the ones who deserved it. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“You’re safe here.” The brother sitting across from me—Declan—spoke up quietly. “I know my family can be a lot, butas long as you mean no harm to anyone under their protection, they would never hurt you.”

“Forgive me if I don’t trust quite that easily.” My tone was flat and cool, but Declan only smiled.

“I don’t blame you. But I thought you should know.”

Kira squeezed some antibacterial ointment onto my palm, then covered it with gauze and began to wrap it in a soft, stretchy bandage. “Just don’t get it wet, and you should be fine.”

I nodded and pushed to my feet. “I’d better get back out there.”

“So should I, actually,” she confessed with a grimace. “My friendly neighborhood gargoyle is probably up to his eyeballs in trouble by now. Reorganizing the liquor supply or trespassing in Irene’s kitchen… the possibilities are endless.”

Gargoyle…

“Is he wearing a…” I hesitated.

“Clearly, you’ve already met Hugh,” Kira acknowledged with a grin as we headed towards the door. “He works for me at my bookstore. Spends most of his time watching period dramas and loving my cat with every fiber of his grinchy little heart.”

We had to skirt around the remains of the shattered plate and fallen sandwiches, and I winced as I contemplated the ruined food. “I’ll get the broom and clean this up,” I promised, but Kira shook her head.

“I’ll take care of it,” she reassured me. “Don’t want you hurting that hand again. Just ask Irene to remake the order.”

I didn’t like feeling as if I’d caused more problems than I’d solved. But I also didn’t feel like it would be wise to argue any more on my first day, so I nodded and turned to follow Kira as she stepped through the door into the club.

Within half a second, the sound went from a muffled drone to an all out roar. I was better prepared this time—my sensitivityto loud noises was a nuisance, but I could usually handle it as long as I knew what to expect—so I managed not to wince.

At least not until a fresh blast of sound echoed even above the din of the voices and the music—a concussive blow that blasted the front door open, slamming it into the wall behind it with a crunch of broken glass.

I dropped into a defensive stance again, taking a step back to anchor myself against the wall of the club. To my dismay, I bumped instead into a wall of steel abs and dragon-sized annoyance, and found my balance steadied by a powerfully muscled forearm in an all-too-familiar dark shirt.

Almost as soon as his fingers brushed my side, I felt a buzz of warmth and energy that shot straight to my chest. And when I glanced up, I saw my own confusion mirrored in Callum’s eyes for a brief moment.

We were standing much too close. My pulse was pounding in my ears, and I could feel a flush spreading across my cheeks. Callum’s grip was steady, but not threatening, even though his gaze held caution, questions, and a lingering hint of suspicion.

But the moment ended as quickly as it had begun. The dragon released me, lowered his hand and stepped back, and then our attention was completely claimed by the woman who had just stepped through the ruined front door.




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