Blake sneered at him, too. “Oh, look. A Sinclair errand boy. Why don’t you run home and cry like the rest of your pathetic loser Family does?”

Devon’s hands clenched into fists, but Poppy put herself in between the two guys.

“I’m sorry, Blake,” she repeated. “I’ll buy you another shirt.”

He smiled, although the expression was as predatory as any monster’s. “Actually, sweet thing, why don’t you give me the shirt off your back? Oops. I meant your whole dress, since you’re not wearing a shirt. Now, that’s something I’d really like to see. What about you, boys?”

He snickered, and his friends laughed with him. The only one who didn’t join in his cruel fun was Deah, who gave her brother a guarded look.

Poppy’s hands fisted in the folds of her sundress, but she lifted her chin. “Forget it,” she said in a disgusted voice.

She started to turn away, but Blake grabbed her arm and yanked her up against his body. Devon, Felix, and Grant all surged forward, but Blake’s friends stepped up and drew their swords. Devon managed to dodge them, but the Draconis cornered Felix and Grant against the side of the ice cream shack, forcing Devon to pull up short of tackling Blake.

“What do you think you three losers are going to do?” Blake sneered. “Well? What are you going to do, Morales? Heal me to death?”

Blake and his friends snickered; Deah winced. So healing must be Felix’s Talent. It was nothing to be embarrassed about, but Felix’s lips pinched together in anger.

“Leave him alone, Blake,” Devon growled, his hands still clenched into fists.

“At least Morales has a Talent,” Blake said, still sneering. “Unlike you, you useless freak.”

Devon didn’t have a Talent? No magic at all? Maybe that’s why Claudia thought he needed a bodyguard.

Blake turned his venomous glare to Grant. “And you, I don’t even know who you are.”

Grant’s lips twisted much the same way Blake’s had.

“Blake,” Deah said, a clear warning in her voice. “That’s enough.”

He gave his sister the same wicked sneer. “It’s enough when I say it’s enough.”

Blake tightened his grip on Poppy’s arm and dragged her even closer, so that she was plastered up against him. “Come on, now, sweet thing,” he drawled. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got on underneath that pretty little dress?”

I looked at Grant, since Claudia had sort of put him in charge of me this morning, but he shrugged back at me. Apparently, he thought there was nothing he could do against five guys with swords, especially when one of those swords was pointed at his throat. Anger burned through me. Well, if he wouldn’t stop this, then I would.

“Let go of her,” I snapped, stepping forward so that I was standing directly in front of Blake, even closer to him than Devon stood.

Blake’s cold brown gaze flicked up and down my body. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a look, too.”

He started to turn back to Poppy, but I moved even closer to him, so close that I could smell the spicy cologne slathered over his skin.

“You want to pick on a girl?” I sneered. “Well, pick on me. C’mon. What are you afraid of, tough guy?”

I stepped back and held my hands out to my sides. Blake’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze dropped to my sword. But when he realized I wasn’t going to grab it, he gave me the same cruel grin he had Poppy.

Blake shoved her away and reached for me, but I was faster, and I grabbed his hand and bent it back as far as it would go. It was a simple wrist lock, one my mom had taught me years ago, but it was brutally effective. In this position, I could easily snap his wrist. Part of me wanted to go ahead and do it. Just because he was such a dick.

“How does that feel, sweet thing?” I drawled.

Blake let out a whimper between his gritted teeth. He tried to jerk his hand out of my grip, but I dug my nails into his skin and held on. He yanked back again, and a cold shot of magic spiked through my body. So Blake had a strength Talent, one that he was trying to use to break free. I let him struggle because the more he flailed around, the stronger he made me, and the more I tightened my grip on his wrist, until his eyes watered and he went down on one knee to try to alleviate some of the pressure.

Everyone around me sucked in a breath. Apparently, bringing Blake Draconi to the verge of tears was somewhat shocking.

If only they knew what I really wanted to do to him—and especially his dad.

My gaze flicked from one Draconi face to the next, daring anyone to make a move. Finally, I looked at Deah, who stared back at me with a mixture of horror and fascination—and the faintest bit of grudging respect.

“Lila,” Grant snapped. “That’s enough. Let him go.”

I stared at Blake and bent his wrist back another tiny fraction, just to let him know how much more I could hurt him if I wanted to. Then I let go and stepped back.

Blake cradled his wrist in his hand. Then he snarled, staggered up to his feet, and started toward me, but Deah stepped in front of him and held her hands out wide.

“C’mon, Blake. They’re not worth it.”

He tried to surge past her again.

“C’mon,” she repeated in a louder, colder voice. “Dad will be pissed if there’s another . . . incident right now. Be smart. Look around. This isn’t the time or the place.”

Our confrontation had attracted almost everyone’s attention in the arcade. Most of the workers had stopped what they were doing to gape at us, and more than a few of the tourist rubes had their phones and cameras out, snapping photos, along with the kids from the other Families. Even Blake realized he couldn’t get away with attacking me in front of so many witnesses. But that didn’t stop him from threatening me.