“I lied to him. To everyone.” The words gurgled in Sera’s throat, threatening to choke her. She couldn’t even meet Naomi’s eyes; she’d lied to her too. “I’m sorry.”

Naomi’s hand closed around her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, you don’t have to. But if you want someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“I…”

She dared a quick glance at Naomi, surprised to find no anger on her face. She should have been furious. Like Raze was. Well, at least Naomi didn’t know that Sera was Dragon Born.

Legend said that the Dragon Born had once been the most powerful mages in the world, a consequence of their unique birth. They were twin souls—in this case, Sera and Alex—born into one body and later separated by magic. Just like the dragons were born. For centuries, the Dragon Born had lived as part of the mage community, accepted and even respected.

But all that had changed. Sera wished she knew why the rest of the supernatural world had turned against her kind. Ever since that happened, the Dragon Born had been branded as abominations. The sentence of being born was death. If the Magic Council ever found out what Sera was, they would tear through her life to get at her. Everyone she cared about was at risk, including her friends. So, no, she couldn’t let the Council find out, even if it meant lying to her friends.

“When I was sixteen, I had a bad experience with magic,” she told Naomi. It was the understatement of the century, but half-truths were all that she dared tell. “A powerful mage killed my father.” The assassin who had discovered her and Alex’s secret and had come to deliver punishment. “We weren’t able to stop the mage. When our dad died, we…snapped. We lost control of our magic, and it killed the mage. Painfully. We boiled his blood from within. We froze off his fingers and drowned his lungs. We peeled the skin from his body…”

Sera looked into Naomi’s horrified face. The weight of the memory crushed her head and crunched at her heart. “After it was all over—after the magic high had worn off—we looked at the mage’s…remains. And we realized what we had done. We swore off that dark part of ourselves. We didn’t use magic anymore. We just wanted to get as far as possible from that world. To not be monsters. And so we became human and took up killing monsters.”

Naomi watched her in silence for a few moments, her usual mischievous expression subdued. Finally, she said, “I think I understand. In your place, I might have done the same. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Sera. I’m not upset. I’m still your friend. I’m sorry you had to go through that. And now the Magic Council is forcing you into the Games. It’s a wonder you’ve escaped their notice this long.”

“I’m good at hiding my magic,” Sera said. She’d been doing it since she was old enough to understand what would happen if she didn’t.

“That I can believe. I never had a clue you’re a mage.”

Neither had anyone else. Well, not anyone except that assassin and then later Kai. Every mage was tested in the Magic Games at the age of sixteen. Sera had escaped that fate the first time by burying her magic so deep down that even the Council’s best magic Sniffers couldn’t find it. As her unease flopped and sank beneath the despair in her stomach, she wondered if she should have just let Finn and his psychopaths overthrow the Magic Council. Why had she helped the people who wouldn’t hesitate to condemn her to death?

“I just wish things would get back to normal,” Sera lamented. “Even though I know nothing will ever be the same again.”

“Some things will always be the same,” Naomi said, pointing down the hall.

Cutler was there, headed straight for them like a man on a mission. Sera didn’t know what he was doing here, all the way across the country. And she certainly didn’t have time for whatever was responsible for the huge grin plastered across his face. As his eyes met hers, the grin widened. He was smiling so hard, it looked like his jaw would break. Sera considered ducking into the locker room to escape him, but the only one in sight was the men’s room. That wouldn’t stop Cutler from following her. In fact, even running into the women’s locker room wouldn’t stop him.

“Sera,” he said, his voice as smooth as melted chocolate.

Magic hung in the air, crackling against Sera’s skin. Cutler’s magic was forced, rough, acidic—like a squirt of lemon in the eye. He thumped it against her with unabashed fervor.

“You feel that, don’t you?” he said, delight dancing in his eyes.

Sera folded her arms across her chest and glared back at him. Cutler was a first tier telekinetic—in addition to being a first tier pain in the ass.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Sera.” He leaned his arm against the wall in a completely unsubtle attempt to flex his muscles. “I know about that magic you did in Alcatraz.”

Cutler came from one of San Francisco’s important magic dynasties, its members characterized by an overabundance of magic and money. If his behavior were any indication, they were also characterized by a shortage of sense. No one at Mayhem wanted to work with Cutler because if his recklessness got him hurt—which it inevitably did—his mommy showed up on his partner’s doorstep with steam coming out of her ears. Literally.

“I want to see this magic of yours,” he said with a lazy wink.

“No.”