Magic Unleashed (Hall of Blood and Mercy Book 3)

by K. M. Shea

  Momoko studied my face, then nodded. She stepped back, joining the other House Medeis wizards who waited on the sidewalk.

  It was a small-ish group that had insisted on coming today. Momoko and Felix—of course—but Great Aunt Marraine had come as well, as did Mr. Clark—Felix’s dad—and two middle-aged sisters who were new members of House Medeis. They were quiet but powerful wizards named April and June, who both shared similar tall and slightly stocky builds with high cheekbones and long eyelashes that rivaled Felix’s.

  I offered my people a smile. “Just remember, even if I shout at Killian, he’s not going to hurt me or any of us. Probably.”

  Mr. Clark went pale, but everyone else nodded.

  I climbed the first of the handful of stairs that led the way into Drake Hall, and both of the front doors were abruptly thrown open.

  “Welcome, Adept Medeis and wizards of House Medeis,” Celestina said. “Please come inside.” She offered me her brightest smile, but since I was no longer in the middle of a battlefield, worrying a fae might kill her, I kept my expression neutral.

  Not even a single goodbye, my thoughts taunted me. Is she friendly, then, because Killian told her she had to be?

  It was a bitter tasting idea. One that made me nod my head and stare straight in front of me as I passed her and stepped into the painfully familiar mansion.

  “There you are, Hazel.” Killian sauntered down the ornate stairway that led to the second floor, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Welcome back.”

  He didn’t stop at the base of the stairs, but moved so close to me it felt like he was invading my personal space. He offered me a bow that brought his head so close to mine if I had moved at all we could have touched foreheads, then popped upright and held out a bouquet of roses.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was deep and throaty—almost a purr. And crowded this close to me, his entire being was overwhelming.

  I almost reached for the bouquet automatically, but stopped myself at the last moment. “You don’t give flowers to a potential ally, Killian,” I dryly said. “That’s something a boyfriend would do.”

  He waited until I met his gaze, his obsidian-red eyes glowing with a heat I’d seen before, in a garden located in a chunk of the fae realm owned by the Regional Committee of Magic. He’d given me an extremely unforgettable kiss that night, and the next time I got a chance to talk to him, he kicked me out of Drake Hall.

  He might have thought his charming smolder would move me, but it only made me more determined.

  It was not okay for him to kiss me like that, and then actively manipulate me and refuse to tell me the truth of what was going on.

  “Where are we going to hold negotiations?” I asked.

  Killian studied me for a few minutes, his expression unrelenting. “In the meeting room. You know the way.”

  I turned my back to him—instantly feeling a bit better—and smiled at my people. “Everyone ready?”

  April and June exchanged confused looks, and Felix and Mr. Clark both were in danger of their eyes popping out of their heads. Sly Great Aunt Marraine looked unfortunately thoughtful, but Momoko studied me with a furrowed brow.

  I awkwardly cleared my throat. “It’s this way.”

  I led the way to the meeting room, smiling or nodding at the occasional vampire we “happened” to meet on our way to the chosen room.

  The Drake Hall meeting room was a long, thin room that had a gigantic table slashing through the center, big enough for about half of the vampires at Drake Hall to sit around.

  Some vampires were waiting for us, including two I was quite familiar with.

  “Miss Hazel!” Julianne pounced on me, dragging me into a hug. “I didn’t get to see you like the First and Second Knight, but they said you were incredible! Thank you for saving us.” She had to hunch her back so she could lean down far enough to gently knock her head against mine.

  I felt a little bit like a teddy bear being cuddled, but I returned the hug anyway. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said. “How are Rupert and Gavino?”

  Julianne let me go and rolled her eyes. “Rupert is doing so swimmingly he’s back to himself, and Gavino—”

  “Is right here.” Gavino stepped out of the shadows cast by the closed drapes. “Hello, Miss Hazel.”

  He looked pale. Well, all vampires had a pale skin tone, but Gavino’s skin was so pale it made the bags under his eyes look like bruising, and the ridges of his face were a little gaunt. He’d been hurt pretty badly from what I’d seen during the attack. But for him to look this bad even with fae potions and his vampiric accelerated healing…he must have been a hair’s width from dying.

  I crossed the room and hesitated for a moment. But the truth was no matter how hurt I felt, I still cared for the Drakes, even though I should have known better. I gazed up at Gavino and started to shift, then smiled when he beat me to it and swept me up in a hug just like Julianne had.

  I tried to squeeze him during the hug, but given my begrudgingly small stature and his massively broad shoulders—he was the biggest Drake vampire I’d seen, which made his fragile health that much more heartbreaking—it was pretty hopeless. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I whispered.

  Gavino let me go and hunkered down so he could look me in the eyes. “Thanks to you, Miss Hazel. I owe you a great debt.”

  “No way.” I smiled. “That’s what friends do.”

  A collective sigh of relief slipped from every vampire in the room.

  Confused, I glanced around, smiling and waving to Manjeet and a few other vampires I knew, then made my way back to my House.

  Great Aunt Marraine smiled and patted my cheek when I rejoined the group. “You seem to be a great deal closer to the Drakes than I originally estimated,” she muttered.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking,” I said.

  Great Aunt Marraine snickered and shook her head. “Oh, after what I’ve seen I very much doubt that!”

  Killian finally joined us, Celestina and Josh flanking him. “Please, sit down.” He motioned to the table as he circled around to the opposite side.

  I chose a spot with plenty of space on either side for my fellow wizards. Unsurprisingly, Killian sat down directly across from me.

  Three members of the kitchen staff bustled in, pushing carts laden with baked snacks and choices of drinks, which they unloaded onto the table.

  I grabbed a homemade glazed donut and thanked the staff.

  April and June followed my example and piled treats on a small plate, as did Felix. Great Aunt Marraine sipped at some kind of fruity drink that I dearly hoped didn’t have alcohol or this meeting was going to be a lot more interesting than I wanted, and Momoko only took a cup of tea while Mr. Clark declined any refreshments—though he shook his head in amazement.

  “This food is amazing,” Felix whisper-hissed to me.

  “Yep,” I agreed.

  “Shall we begin?” Killian asked.

  I took a bite of my donut—which had the most delicious glaze that it made me instantly drool. “Yeah.”

  “Very well. I, Killian Drake of the Drake Family and Eminence of the Midwest, would like to extend an official invitation for an alliance between us,” Killian said.

  I ate another bite of my donut and critically eyed him—though it was pretty hard to be critical when I was eating heaven covered in a sugary glaze. “Why?”

  “It would be beneficial to both House Medeis and Drake Family,” Killian said. “In multiple ways, of course, but first and foremost it would give us a united front and shared forces and intelligence against the Night Court.”

  “You expect more trouble from them.”

  Up went one of Killian’s eyebrows—the angle of it indicated he was somewhat surprised. “You don’t?”

  “I do.” I watched his eyebrow return to its regular position as I ate the last bit of my donut—which I had eaten too fast and was now left feeling a little mournful at its passing. “I think we have a l
ittle time, though. They’re going to get the book thrown at them for attacking you in the Curia Cloisters—particularly in the middle of a multi-race meeting. It’s going to take them some time to recover from that.”

  “Agreed,” Killian said.

  “But we’d better use the time to our advantage and prepare for a war,” I said. “Before I thought they’d just plague you for a few decades before giving up. But since they broke Cloister law…” I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure they aren’t going to stop until they kill you, or until you crush them.”

  Killian’s shrug was miniscule. “That is roughly what I’ve estimated as well. At worst, they’ll declare war on us. At best, we might get a certamen.”

  Certamen was a super old term used to describe what was essentially a trial by combat.

  In an effort to minimize loss of life among supernaturals and limit—if not outright ban—war between us, roughly a hundred years ago the movers and shakers of supernaturals had gotten together and come up with certamen.

  With the drain of magic, war became dangerous for our entire community—which was already pretty fragile. Certamen was supposed to limit the slaughter because it was kind of like a cross between a duel—with all its rules—and a one-battle war.

  Opponents were given one opportunity to face each other on the battlefield. The winner of the fight picked the terms of surrender for the loser, and whatever enmity or event that had pushed the two sides into the certamen was considered solved.

  There usually were some casualties, but the numbers were tiny compared to the wars that used to last decades between feuding factions.

  There hadn’t been too many conflicts in the USA, so I had never met anyone who had taken part in a certamen before. They were more popular in Europe—I suspect because all the Houses, Courts, Families, and Packs over there had a much longer and far more bloody history with each other than we did here in the relatively young country of the USA.

  “And,” Killian continued, “you’ve made your House a secondary target by standing with me.”

  “I didn’t stand with you.” My voice was sharp, and I pushed my empty plate away from me. “What they did was wrong. It was illegal, dishonorable, and it risked the lives of everyone in that room. I stood against them.”

  “Perhaps,” Killian said. “But you said we needed to use this time to prepare. I assume, then, that you agree to my proposal?” To his credit, Killian didn’t look smug, or smirk, or show any kind of emotion that would show insincerity for an alliance. He appeared to be completely serious.

  And I had to think he was.

  Killian was brilliant. Even if he’d changed his mind and decided he wanted me around again, he wasn’t oblivious to the way my much smaller group of wizards had turned the tides on the fae. We were worthy of his respect, and an excellent chess piece for him to use. He really did want this alliance.

  Which was great, because I did, too—with some big caveats.

  I glanced at Great Aunt Marraine, who was seated next to me and patted my thigh under the table. She’d gone through my list of requests with me line by line every day since she’d learned about the meeting. We could do this.

  I took a deep breath. “I’ll agree to an alliance, should you agree to my requirements.”

  “Name them,” Killian said.

  “I want a written, signed agreement that we’ll share all information and intelligence we receive about the Night Court and their plans,” I said. “You will not conveniently leave out any details, or fail to tell us about a new movement.”

  Again, up went an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to act without your knowledge.”

  “Yes.” My smile was brittle. “Because you’ve proven to be untrustworthy.”

  “Fair enough. What else?”

  “I want Gavino.” I held my breath and tried to gauge his reaction.

  Killian narrowed his eyes. “What?”

  “I want Gavino to live at House Medeis for six months, and work as a trainer for my wizards,” I said. “During that time he won’t be available for regular vampire duties—so you can’t use him as your plant and yank him out whenever it suits you. But if we’re going to a fight then we’ll agree he should stand with the vampires.”

  Killian rapidly blinked, then looked quizzically at me. “You want him as a trainer?”

  “House Medeis now has a large gym, including a pretty nice arrangement of weights and lifting machines,” I said. “I’ve hired a martial artist and a weapons trainer who come by once or twice a week, but I want my people to have the same base fitness training I had. If possible, I’d also like him to train us in more self-defense maneuvers.”

  Killian turned to look at Gavino, who had first looked shocked and maybe a little terrified at my initial suggestion, but was now thoughtfully folding his arms across his chest. The big vampire nodded at Killian.

  “That could be arranged, provided you’re willing to make allowances so he can live at House Medeis,” Killian said.

  “We’ll get him a blood delivery, and provide a room with the right kind of drapes to block sunlight.” I sat straighter in my chair.

  This was one of the demands I thought Killian would bargain to drive me down on—I figured at best he’d send Gavino over for a day or two during the week. I was a little giddy at the thought of having Gavino on hand to train us whenever we liked. Since we added to our numbers there were almost thirty House Medeis adult wizards, and I’d probably have him do some sessions with the teenagers as well…

  “If you’re willing, then I don’t think it will be a problem,” Killian said, interrupting my glee. “What else?”

  For the next half hour I laid out my more strategic requirements—that we fight together but keep our Family and House business separate, and once the conflict with the Night Court was over the ties to our alliance would be looser—so he couldn’t permanently insert himself into House Medeis business.

  It was mostly boring legal stuff, with a few fighting provisions—we each separately commanded our people, blah, blah, blah. (We wouldn’t have to bother with it usually, except this was Killian Drake. We needed things to be as clear and straightforward as possible, or he’d find a loop hole.) But there was one final requirement I really wanted, and I wasn’t quite sure how it would shake out.

  Killian looked up from the printed paper that had my list of requirements—as recorded by Julianne on a laptop. “Is there anything else?” he asked. “Or shall we draw the documents up?”

  “No, I have one last requirement.”

  Great Aunt Marraine whipped her head around to look at me so quickly that the blue streak in her gray hair was a blur. She stared intently at me, and I could feel her confusion and apprehension.

  I held in a wince—I hadn’t dared to tell her about this demand. I knew she wouldn’t go for it, but it was important.

  I tried to seem relaxed and casual as I gave Killian a shallow, business-like smile. “I want to continue my training here at Drake Hall at least once a week for the next six months.”

  Great Aunt Marraine grabbed my thigh and squeezed, and I could hear the faint wheeze of air escaping her lungs.

  Undeterred, I added, “If my presence is distasteful to the vampires at Drake Hall, I can be trained at House Medeis as long as skilled vampires come to teach me.”

  Since leaving Drake Hall, I had understandably stalled in my combat training.

  My family was picking up on the magic skills I’d learned at Drake Hall—like the magic shield—at a much faster rate than I had. Part of that was I was able to actually show them what to do. When I’d been in their position, I was blindly feeling about with only pictures from a book to help me.

  But I wasn’t satisfied with my current level of fighting. And while I could keep working on my magic abilities since the Paragon had dropped off the book, I really needed the combat experience the Drake Family provided when I practiced with them. And sadly Gavino wasn’t going to cut it, or I wouldn’t have to ask for thi
s.

  “That’s acceptable.” Killian stabbed a straw into a blood pouch and sucked it down quickly. “It will work well with my requirement.”

  I warily eyed him. “And that is?”

  Killian smirked, losing the business-like manner he’d held on to since we sat down. “My requirement is that once a month, during these next six months while you are getting training and support, you have to stay at Drake Hall.”

  Chapter Nine

  Hazel

  Mr. Clark stood up and knocked his chair over. “What?”

  Momoko narrowed her eyes and murmured to me, “He’s joking, right?”

  “That’s not happening,” I snarled.

  Killian held up a hand. “Wait a moment and think about what I’ve said. I’m asking you to stay at Drake Hall, and you already want to be here to receive training. If you keep a room here, it will be easier for you—and if you want to bring some of your wizards with you we’ll clear out rooms for them, too.”

  “You can’t suddenly demand that I spend a week with you every month,” I warned him.

  “I understand,” Killian said. “The length of your stay will be up to your discretion, but I will require a minimum of one night per month.”

  “There’s something fishy about this.” Though Felix spoke in a lowered tone, I knew the vampires still heard him with their superior senses.

  I combed a hand through the wild mess of my blond hair. “Why?” I asked.

  “You are referring to?”

  “Why do you want me to stay?” I pursed my lips as I studied the vampire. “Everything I’ve asked for has a clear reason. What do you get out of this?”

  Killian’s smile turned bemused—but not smug. No, it was almost…sad? “Isn’t it obvious, Hazel?”

  He stared at me with such intensity, my nerves made me look away. “I agree to your terms,” I said.