“Lila?” Devon asked, going on alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Blood. Over there.”
I headed in that direction. Devon stepped up beside me, with Felix behind him.
“Stay behind me,” I growled at Devon. “I’m your bodyguard, remember?”
“And Sinclairs take care of each other, remember?” he shot right back.
I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop Devon from drawing his own sword, ready to attack whatever danger was lurking here.
Together, the two of us crept closer and closer to the dumpster, with Felix right behind us, gripping his own sword and literally breathing down our necks. I held up three fingers and looked at Devon. He nodded back. We silently mouthed the words together:
One . . . two . . . three!
The Mythos Academy Series
by JENNIFER ESTEP
Touch of Frost
Kiss of Frost
Dark Frost
Crimson Frost
Midnight Frost
Killer Frost
In e-book only
First Frost
Spartan Frost
The Black Blade Series
Cold Burn of Magic
DARK HEART OF MAGIC
JENNIFER ESTEP
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
“Lila?” Devon asked, going on alert. “What’s wrong?”
The Mythos Academy Series
Title Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
Teaser chapter
Copyright Page
As always, to my mom,
my grandma,
and Andre,
for all their love, help, support, and patience
with my books
and everything else in my life.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Any author will tell you that her book would not be possible without the hard work of many, many people. Here are some of the folks who helped bring Lila Merriweather and the world of Cloudburst Falls to life:
Thanks to my agent, Annelise Robey, for all her helpful advice.
Thanks to my editor, Alicia Condon, for her sharp editorial eye and thoughtful suggestions. They always make the book so much better.
Thanks to everyone at Kensington who worked on the project, and thanks to Alexandra Nicolajsen, Vida Engstrand, and Lauren Jennings for all their promotional efforts. Thanks to Justine Willis as well.
And finally, thanks to all the readers out there. Entertaining you is why I write books, and it’s always an honor and privilege. I hope you have as much fun reading about Lila’s adventures as I do writing them.
Happy reading!
CHAPTER ONE
Working for the mob isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.
Oh, sure. It always looks all glitzy and glamorous on TV and in the movies: folks wearing snazzy suits, eating in fancy restaurants, and talking about how to best deal with their enemies over coffee and cannolis. And maybe I’d actually done some of those things, during the few weeks I’d been working for the Sinclair Family. But most of the time, taking care of Family business was a boring, tedious job, just like any other—
“Watch out, Lila!” Devon Sinclair shouted.
I ducked just in time to keep from getting pelted in the face by a blood persimmon. The ripe, apple-size fruit sailed over my head and splattered against the ground. The skin exploded on impact, painting red pulp and seeds all over the cobblestones and filling the summer air with a sweet, sticky scent.
Sadly, the cobblestones weren’t the only things covered in fruit—so was I. Red pulp had soaked into my blue T-shirt and gray cargo pants, while seeds and bits of skin clung to my gray sneakers.
An angry, high-pitched cheep-cheep-cheep sounded, the noise somewhere between a crow’s cawing and a chipmunk’s chirping. I glared up at the tree where the persimmon had come from. A creature with charcoal-gray fur and emerald-green eyes jumped up and down on its hind legs on a branch about ten feet above my head. The creature’s jumps were so hard and powerful that more ripe blood persimmons dropped from their branches and hit the ground, bursting open and adding to the oozing mess. Oh, yeah. The tree troll was definitely upset that it had missed me with its latest fruit bomb.
Tree trolls were among the many monsters that made their home in and around Cloudburst Falls, West Virginia, along with mortals and magicks, like me. I’d always thought of the trolls as sort of a cross between an oversize squirrel and the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. Oh, tree trolls couldn’t actually fly, but the black webbing under their arms helped them catch wind currents as they hopped from one branch to the next, while their long, bushy tails let them dangle upside down. The trolls were only about a foot tall, so they weren’t nearly as dangerous as copper crushers or many of the other monsters that inhabited the town. Most of the time, they were pretty harmless, unless you got them riled up. And this one was certainly riled up.
Careful of the falling persimmons, Devon Sinclair stepped up beside me and craned his neck back. His black T-shirt and khaki cargo pants were splattered with even more persimmon pulp than mine, making it look as though he’d been caught in a red rainstorm. Just about the only part of him that wasn’t covered in fruit was the silver cuff that glimmered on his right wrist, one stamped with the Sinclair Family crest—a hand holding a sword aloft.
“He’s not a very happy fellow, is he?” Devon murmured in his deep, rumbling voice. “No wonder the tourists are complaining.”
Cloudburst Falls was known far and wide as “the most magical place in America,” a town where “fairy tales are real,” so tourism was the name of the game around here. People came from all over the country and the world to see the magnificent views from Cloudburst Mountain, the rugged, fog-covered peak that loomed over the city, as well as spend their money in all the shops, casinos, restaurants, hotels, and other attractions that ringed the Midway, the main drag in the center of town.
But monsters were also drawn to the area because of all the bloodiron, a magical metal that had been mined out of Cloudburst Mountain for years. At least, that’s what many of the local legends and tall tales claimed. Tourist rubes might like to ooh and aah at the monsters in the various zoos in the Midway and photograph the creatures in their natural habitats during expeditions up the mountain, but the out-of-towners didn’t appreciate tree trolls chucking persimmons at them as they strolled down the sidewalk. And the tourists especially didn’t like to get attacked by some of the more dangerous monsters that lurked in the dark alleys and shadowy spots in and around town. So it was the job of the Families to make sure that the monsters stayed in their designated areas—or at least didn’t snac
k on too many tourists at one time.
This particular troll had taken up residence in a tall blood persimmon tree that sat in the center of one of the shopping squares that branched off the Midway. Since this square was part of the Sinclair territory, we were the ones who’d been called in to deal with the creature. For the last three days, the troll had been fruit bombing everyone who dared walk by its tree, causing several tourists to drop and break their expensive phones and cameras. Nothing pissed off a tourist more than losing their fancy new phone. I knew, since I’d spent the last few years swiping phones out of the pockets, purses, and fanny packs of every out-of-towner that looked like an easy mark.
Beside me, Devon shifted on his feet, moving out of the bright, direct sun into a pool of dappled shadows closer to the tree. The warm rays filtered down through the branches and danced across his muscled body, showing off his rugged features, intense green eyes, and the honey highlights in his dark-chocolate-brown hair. I breathed in, catching a whiff of his crisp pine scent, mixed in with the sticky sweetness of the splattered persimmons. Just standing near Devon made my heart do a funny little pitter-patter in my chest, but I ignored the sensation, just as I’d been doing for weeks now.
“What do you want to do about the troll?” I asked. “Because I don’t think he’s coming down from there without a fight.”
Devon was the bruiser, or second-in-command of the Sinclair Family, responsible for overseeing all the Family guards and dealing with all the monster problems that arose in Sinclair territory. Most of the bruisers for the various Families were arrogant jerks who enjoyed bossing people around and taking advantage of their powerful position. But Devon was a genuinely good guy who treated everyone in his Family equally, from the smallest pixie to the toughest guard. Plus, he would do anything to help the people he cared about, something he’d proven by putting himself in danger time and time again.
Devon’s inherent goodness and devotion to others were some of the many things that made me like him way more than I should have. His soulful green eyes, teasing grin, and rocking body didn’t hurt either.
Me? Good and I weren’t exactly close friends, and the only devotion I had was to myself and making sure that I had plenty of cash in my pockets and food in my stomach. I was a loner thief who’d spent the last four years living in the shadows until I’d been recruited to be Devon’s bodyguard a few weeks ago. Not that he really needed a guard. Devon was a tough fighter who could take care of himself—and then some.
“Well, I say that we pick up all the fruit that’s still in one piece and chuck it right back at the troll,” another voice snarked. “Let him see how it feels to get splattered.”
I looked over at Felix Morales, Devon’s best friend and another member of the Sinclair Family. With his wavy black hair, bronze skin, and dark brown eyes, Felix was even more handsome than Devon, despite the fact that he was also covered in pulp—not that I would ever tell him that. Felix was already a terrible flirt. We’d been in the square for ten minutes, and he’d spent more time grinning at the tourist girls who wandered by than figuring out what to do about the troll, which was why he’d gotten hit with the ripe fruit so many more times than Devon and me.
Felix winked at two girls in tank tops and short shorts who were sitting on a nearby bench sipping lemonade, then waggled his fingers at them. The girls giggled and waved back.
I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the side. “Try to pay attention.”
Felix shot me a sour look and rubbed his side.
“What do you normally do about tree trolls who throw things at tourists?” I asked.
Devon shrugged. “Usually, we don’t have to do all that much. Most of the trolls stay in the trees in their designated habitat areas. Whenever they start making pests of themselves, we send some guards over to tell them to either cut it out or move back up the mountain where they can do whatever they want.”
I nodded. Like most monsters, tree trolls could understand human speech, even if mortals and magicks couldn’t really understand them all that well.
“Usually, that’s the end of it, but this guy doesn’t seem to want to leave,” Devon said. “He’s still here, despite the guards I sent over yesterday. And he’s not the only one. I’ve heard rumors that all the other Families are having similar problems with trolls right now. Seems like something has them spooked and they’re coming down off the mountain in record numbers.”
As soon as Devon said the word leave, the tree troll started jumping up and down even faster than before, his cheep-cheep-cheeps growing louder and louder. The high-pitched shrieks stabbed into my brain, making me grateful that enhanced hearing wasn’t one of my Talents. The creature was plenty loud enough already without the sound being magically amplified.
All around us, the tourists stopped slurping down their jumbo sodas, noshing on their giant wads of cotton candy, and snapping photos of the bubbling fountain in the middle of the square. They stared in our direction, curious about the commotion. I dropped my head and slid behind Felix, trying to blend into the background as much as possible. As a thief, I’d never liked being the center of attention. Kind of hard to pick someone’s pocket or snag a watch off her wrist when she was looking straight at you. I might not be here to steal anything, but old habits die hard.
Devon looked at me. “Do you think you can use your soulsight to see what he’s so upset about?”
“Yeah,” Felix chimed in. “Let the great Lila Merriweather do her magic mojo. She is the monster whisperer, after all.”
I reached over and punched him in the shoulder.
“Hey!” Felix said, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”
“I am not a monster whisperer.”
He rolled his eyes. “Did you or did you not feed three guys to a lochness a few weeks ago?”
I winced. That was exactly what I’d done. I didn’t even feel bad about it, since the guys had been trying to kill Devon and me at the time. But I’d always been secretive about my magic, my Talents, and all the things that my mom had taught me about how to deal with monsters. I’d had to be, since I wanted to keep my magic firmly inside my own body and not have someone rip it out of me and take it for himself. So I wasn’t used to Felix joking about it so openly. Every time he or Devon made a comment about my magic, I always looked around, wondering who might have overheard and what they might do to me in order to get my Talents.
Devon noticed my worried expression, and he put his hand on my shoulder. The warmth of his fingers soaked through my T-shirt and burned into my skin. That was something else I liked a lot more than I should have. I shrugged out from under his touch, trying not to notice the flash of hurt in his eyes.
“Please, Lila,” Devon said. “Try to talk to the troll.”
I sighed. “Sure. Why not?”
Most magic fell into three categories—strength, speed, and senses, such as sight, smell, sound, taste, and touch. So lots of magicks had a Talent for sight, whether it was the ability to see great distances, in microscopic detail, or even in the dark. But I had the more unusual Talent of also being able to see into people and feel their emotions as though they were my own, whether it was love, anger, jealousy, or something else. Soulsight, it was called. I’d never used it on a monster before, though, but I supposed there was a first time for everything.
So I stepped forward, tipped my head back, and peered up at the creature. Maybe it sensed what I was trying to do because it stopped jumping up and down and focused on me as intently as I was staring at it. My eyes locked with the monster’s, and my soulsight kicked in.
The tree troll’s red-hot anger slammed into my chest like a flaming fist, but that emotion, that feeling, was quickly smothered by another, stronger one—stomach-churning fear.
I frowned. What could the troll have to be so worried about? Sure, Devon, Felix, and I were all wearing swords belted to our waists, but so did most everyone in the Families. It wasn’t like we were actually going to hurt the creature. Or maybe that??
?s what the other mobs did. I wouldn’t put it past the Draconi Family to slaughter the monsters that dared to wander into their territory, either down here in the city or up on Cloudburst Mountain, where the Draconi mansion was located.
But whatever the troll was so worried about, it wasn’t going to leave or even calm down until it had been taken care of. As if the troll could sense my thoughts, it cheeped again, then skittered up a branch, moving higher and higher into the tree, and disappearing into the green clusters of leaves.
“What did you do to it?” Felix asked.
“I didn’t do anything to it,” I said. “Here. Hold this.”
I unbuckled the black leather belt from around my waist and passed it over to Felix. He clutched the belt and the attached sword and scabbard in his hands.
“What are you doing, Lila?” Devon asked.
“It’s worried about something. I’m going to find out what that is.”
I went over and circled around the tree, my dark blue gaze going from one branch to the next as I mentally calculated how I could best get up to where the troll was.
Felix looked at me, then at the tree. “You’re going to climb up there? With the troll?” He shook his head. “Sometimes, I forget how totally cray-cray you are.”
I scoffed. “The only one here who is cray-cray is you, Romeo.”
Felix’s face scrunched up with worry at my not-so-veiled reference to his love life. On the surface, Felix might seem like a terrible flirt, but it was all an act to hide how crazy he was about Deah Draconi, daughter of Victor Draconi, the most powerful man in town. Naturally, Victor hated all the other Families, especially the Sinclairs, because that’s how these kinds of doomed love stories always went. My mom and dad were proof of that.