Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy Book 1)

by K. M. Shea

  I wrinkled my forehead in confusion. What is she talking about? Deadly apathy? The failed turnings weren’t a shocker—everyone knew vampires, shifters, and werewolves were slowly dying out. But what did the leaders of the other vampire Families have to do with anything?

  “Which brings to mind—who should take the Eminence his evening blood?” Steely Voice asked.

  “Was there a new blood delivery today?” Josh asked.

  “Yes, it came in late. I saw the delivery girl leaving when I came up to dinner,” Julianne said.

  “Excellent, we should try to give him extra, then,” Celestina decided.

  “Why?” I asked.

  Celestina considered the question. “The Eminence is particular about his blood,” was the non-answer she finally gave.

  “That tells me nothing,” I said.

  Celestina smiled mysteriously, and I grunted and went back to my food.

  “Why don’t we send the wizard?” the male vampire who’d sat across the table from me suggested.

  “Hard pass.” I stabbed some asparagus, assuming that was the end of the matter.

  “It’s an honor to be chosen to go.” A cold beauty enveloped Julianne for a moment as she stared at me. (It was then that I realized maybe dinner really was a bonding experience for the Drake Family.)

  I took care to chew, buying myself a moment to come up with a respectful response. “All the more reason why it shouldn’t be me,” I said. “I’m just the wizard.”

  “You’re also entertainment,” said the vampire across from me—who I was really starting to wish had ignored me like everyone else used to before I was dropped off the patio. “Given the murders, it is more important to keep the Eminence amused than to secure additional honor for ourselves.”

  I almost choked on my ice water and glanced at the other vampires to see how they would correct him.

  Unfortunately, they all looked thoughtful.

  “Perhaps it’s a good idea—for tonight, at least.” Steely Voice folded his arms across his chest—he was pretty broad shouldered and muscled for a vampire.

  Desperate, I looked to Josh, hopeful that my instructor might get me out of this mess—the last thing I wanted to do was deliver blood packs to Killian. Even though there was no chance he was going to bite me—my blood reeked as Rupert liked to constantly remind me—if Killian was hungry it wasn’t a good situation to be in. Josh was my last hope for deliverance.

  The black-haired vampire met my gaze. “The joy of life can defang the bleakness of eternity,” he “helpfully” said.

  “But—” I started.

  “It’s settled, then,” Celestina said. “Hazel will deliver the Eminence his blood—though I will go with her to show her where to take it.”

  The Drake vampires nodded, and the decision was made despite my opposition.

  But as long as I lived in Drake Hall, I had to do what the vampires decided, which is why I found myself standing outside the door of Killian’s office half an hour later, bearing a silvery tray weighted down with chilled blood packs.

  I reluctantly knocked on the door while glaring at the blood packs. (If they tried to make me do this again, I was going to give him all the nearly expired pouches!)

  “Enter.”

  I rolled my shoulders back and bumped the door open. “Celestina and the others sent me up with your dinner.”

  Killian didn’t look up from the document he was reading. Rather, he gestured for me to step inside.

  I tiptoed in, but didn’t bother hiding my inspection of the place.

  The room was all Killian—incredibly, or perhaps restrictively, tidy with every book in place and every paper sorted into a folder or stand. Bookshelves austerely covered the walls, filled with what looked like some priceless volumes of magical books, but one of the gorgeous shelves also held a flatscreen TV, a tablet, and a laptop. It created a sort of jarring combination of history and modern tech, but that’s really what Killian was, and why he was so dangerous.

  Killian finally looked up from his paper. “Am I to assume there is some method behind my underlings sending you here?”

  I set the tray on his impersonally bare desk. “Not one I understand. They seemed to think you need to be entertained—though I’m not sure what they expect me to do.”

  Up went the edges of Killian’s lips in that mocking almost-a-smile. “Given your unique personality, to be amusing all I imagine you have to do is exist.”

  I pressed my lips together, making them thin. “It’s not like I go around doing stupid things.”

  “No,” he agreed. “It’s your propensity to hiss and puff up like a startled kitten when prodded.”

  “I still don’t understand why you insist on training me if you think I’m so harmless.”

  “Even when properly trained to the point of being deadly you will still resemble a troubled kitten or puppy,” Killian said. “It is due to your nature rather than your fighting abilities.”

  I turned to study Killian’s collection of technology, but I watched out of the corner of my eye as he snagged a blood pack from the tray.

  He stabbed the pack with a pointed straw, then sucked it straight from the pouch.

  Killian leaned back in his hair, his eyes at half mast, the straw fixed at the corner of his mouth, and he looked irritatingly like a model in an advertisement, which wasn’t fair. I’d much prefer he linger in dark corners of the room and look like he was planning something evil than showing off his appearance. He was only stunning because it gave vampires a natural advantage over easily swayed humans who would most likely be stunned at their smile.

  Unfortunately, I stared too long with my eyes flicked back in an unnatural position, and he caught me staring.

  “What is it?” Killian asked.

  “Nothing.” I resolutely stared at the TV screen.

  Killian darkly chuckled. His chair creaked when he stood, and though I didn’t hear his feet on the beautiful maroon carpet, I could feel his presence behind me. Nothing could hide such a deadly aura.

  “I don’t believe you.” He was so close his presence loomed behind me, and I could see in the TV reflection he was half leaning over me. “Are you disgusted? Frightened?”

  I paused for a moment and wondered if he was right. Was I scared?

  My heart wasn’t pounding any faster than usual even though he was right behind me. But I’m pretty sure my sense of danger was starting to go screwy after living with all these vampires. I still watched Killian with the same kind of intensity I would give a tiger—respect, distance, and the wish that there was a glass wall between us.

  I turned around to face him, and couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past my lips.

  Killian had appeared dangerously attractive leaning back in his chair with his blood. But now, standing above me, pouch in hand, he more closely resembled a giant kid sucking on a juice pack.

  “Enjoying your juice box?” I asked through another snort of laughter.

  Killian raised an eyebrow—I thought in amusement. “It is odd that most people would be disgusted by the contents of the pouch, but you laugh at it.”

  I coughed, getting myself under control again. “You’re a vampire. What else are you supposed to drink? Besides, you didn’t kill anyone to get it, the delivery service dropped it off, and I know they pay their blood donors well.”

  Killian studied me as he drained his first pouch. He backed up—keeping his eyes on me—and tossed the pouch in the trash before reaching for a new one. “You are one of those awful people who follows a moral code.”

  “Everyone follows a moral code.”

  “No, everyone is too busy trying to figure out what shades of gray they can get away with manipulating or pulling before they get in trouble,” he scoffed.

  “That might be how vampires are, but wizards aren’t like that.”

  “Yes, I imagine that’s true given the way wizard Houses are just lining the driveway, seeking to be your political allies,” he dryly said
.

  I dropped my eyes at the reminder.

  “You are a rarity.” Killian leaned against the edge of his desk. “A supernatural who actually does as they say. It makes you both weak and incredibly powerful at the same time. That’s why you are dangerous. And once you have your magic, I imagine that’s going to be more obvious.”

  I decided to risk looking at him again. He was finishing his second pouch, draining it more slowly than he had the first. “I’m surprised you drink packaged blood,” I said. “Isn’t fresh blood from a donor supposed to make a vampire stronger?”

  Killian sucked the last of the blood from the package. “It is,” he said. “But I will never drink from a blood donor.” He tossed the package out and added, “Most of the Drake Family consumes packaged blood only.”

  “But…why? Isn’t it a status symbol to have blood donors? And if it improves your abilities I would have thought you’d be all over it.”

  Killian halted, and the cruel, cold creature inside of him surfaced. It was in the heartless curve of his smile and the flinty look in his eyes that now glowed redder and underlined the paleness of his skin. “I don’t drink from a donor because I’m not like you. I know just how much gray makes up the world, and how easily we betray others.”

  It wasn’t an answer that made sense, but the white of his fangs was a bit unnerving, and I was starting to regret I asked. I needed to snap him out of it. “Okay.” I fought the desire to back up when he stood straight and sauntered toward me, drawing close enough that if I moved my arm I’d brush him.

  “How fascinating—you really aren’t afraid,” he murmured.

  “It’s not like you could drink from me,” I said. “Actually, I could stink you out of this room with a papercut.”

  “Why do you sound as though you have thought about this?”

  I threaded my fingers together and slightly widened my eyes in my best innocent expression. “I’ve considered seeing if I could make Rupert gag.”

  There. The feral thing that had risen inside him started to sink back into his bones. He stood taller instead of crowding me, and his terrifying smile became more of a smirk. “It seems to me it wouldn’t be wise to overly irritate your weightlifting instructor.”

  “I don’t think he could be any more of a crank, so I might as well have some fun with it. I hope you have a good reason for keeping him around because that guy needs to learn how to chill.”

  Killian’s smirk became more pronounced. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned closer—a very different sort of heat rising in his eyes this time. “And what do you mean by chill?”

  I gave Killian the side eye and took a pointed step away from him. “I wish you’d stop testing me.”

  “But it’s such fun!”

  “For you, maybe.”

  “You don’t seem scared now, but you do appear uncomfortable.”

  “Want me to bat my eyelashes and sigh over you so we can both be uncomfortable?”

  Killian’s smirk deepened. “Try it.”

  This, of course, meant there was no way I’d do it. The more I thought about it the more I doubted Killian could be made uncomfortable. Any female stupid enough to cast doe eyes at him probably got bulldozed. I opened my mouth, intending to share the recent development with Killian, but was interrupted by a loud, piercing scream.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hazel

  Killian was at the door first, ripping it open and pausing in the doorway. He already had his dagger out by the time I joined him, poking my head into the hall.

  I didn’t see anyone, but I thought I could hear faint sobs.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Rather than respond, Killian grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, pushed me back into his office and shut the door in my face, his quiet footsteps retreating down the hallway.

  I stared for a moment or two—did he really think I was a pet that would follow non-verbal commands? Oh, heck no! I wrenched the door open and tilted my head, following the faint sound of crying. It wasn’t soft sobs, but something closer to hysterics with painful cries mixed in.

  I followed the noise down a flight of stairs and into a back hallway. A woman in a maid uniform stood at an open doorway, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold in her sobs. Past her I could see Killian talking with Celestina and Josh.

  Killian turned around and gave me an annoyed look when I thumped closer, but he didn’t say anything to me and continued his chat with his First and Second Knights.

  I placed a hand on the maid’s back and patted her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  The maid slumped against the doorway and pointed inside the room.

  It was a bedroom—one of the vampire ones because it was fancier, though it lacked photos or personal items. I scanned the room before I saw the body positioned by the open window. It was a woman—she looked young, maybe just a few years older than me, and her eyes were open, but I could see from the doorway that she wasn’t moving.

  Another murder victim.

  I wanted to close my eyes, but I made myself swallow and study her. I would have expected the victim to be a vampire given the location, except she wasn’t wearing a suit, or any of the fancy workout clothes the Drake vampires lived in, so chances were she was human. The room didn’t look disturbed, so she couldn’t have fought whoever killed her, unless they moved her afterwards. But she didn’t have a mark on her, either. Not even a drop of her blood had been spilled—which was probably done on purpose, or the vampires would have scented her out earlier. I didn’t recognize her, and she wasn’t wearing a servant’s uniform, so she was most likely a blood donor.

  She was a regular human—employed by supernaturals, not even a member of it.

  And now she was dead.

  It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t done anything wrong. As a human, she shouldn’t have been pulled into whatever stupid feud had egged the murderer on. None of it involved her.

  My throat ached with the tears I would have shed if I hadn’t cried myself dry already. I was vaguely aware of the vampires that rushed up and down the hallway as they searched the house for her killer, and I slowly curled my hands into fists.

  Celestina slipped out of the room—running an errand for Killian.

  I licked my lips. “Celestina.”

  She paused just in front of me. “Yes?”

  “Will the Regional Committee of Magic really not help when innocent humans are killed?” I asked.

  Celestina didn’t even have to think about it. “This is not the first human victim we’ve had, and they haven’t been inspired to help yet. They are happy to have something bother the Eminence.”

  I glanced back at the deceased blood donor.

  Celestina patted my shoulder, then continued on her way.

  I barely noticed; I was etching the blood donor’s face into my mind.

  I was weak and subject to Killian’s whims, but the blood donor’s death had triggered something in me. I wasn’t going to sit by and let this sicko get away with this. Feeble as I was, maybe there was something I could do to help.

  Because this was wrong. And it had to stop.

  I lingered in the hallway for about an hour, hoping I would naturally get swept up into the unavoidable vampire meeting the Drake Family would hold to discuss the blood donor’s murder, but it never happened.

  I did find out her name—Michelle Farrow—and I wasn’t going to forget it. Ever.

  I also found out her suspected cause of death was strangulation or suffocation—no stab wounds, bite marks, or magical spells had ended her life.

  No other information was forthcoming, and eventually it got too late. When I found myself fighting to keep my eyes open, I knew I had to call it a night.

  But I set my alarm with the plan to get up early and ask Celestina what the vampires had discussed.

  Unfortunately, Celestina was out when I woke up. So was Josh.

  This meant there was only one vampire I felt comfortable appro
aching—though I did consider asking even Rupert before I dragged myself to his office.

  It was kind of dangerous. I hadn’t purposely sought him out ever before—and there was a faint chance he may punish me for daring to.

  But there was no way I was going to give up so easily. This was for Michelle, for everyone who had come before her, and the desire to keep anyone from coming after her.

  I took a deep breath, rolled my shoulders back, and knocked on the door of Killian’s office.

  “What is it, Wizard?” Killian asked through the door.

  I bolstered my courage and poked my head in. “Hey.” I studied him—and most importantly his eyebrows—trying to get a handle on his mood.

  He was seated behind his desk, wearing a suit like always. It was possible he’d been awake the whole night and hadn’t yet slept, but I couldn’t tell. His face didn’t show any extra signs of concern or frustration.

  But he also hadn’t started smirking or making fun of me the moment I entered either, which might mean he really didn’t like me seeking him out after all, or that the murderer situation had killed off his already twisted sense of humor.

  He raised an eyebrow at me—not at the angle that meant he was amused but the one reserved for impatience—and stared.

  I tugged on the sleeves of my suit. “Did you find out anything more about the murderer?”

  “Why?”

  I tried to come up with a believable explanation before giving up—he’d never believe me anyway. “Because I want to know.”

  Killian leaned back in his chair and studied me intently enough to make me shift my weight from one foot to the other and back again.

  “It’s a vampire matter. Do you really wish to be involved?”

  “It’s not a vampire matter—whoever is doing this killed humans. That means it involves all of us.”

  More staring ensued. It felt like somehow Killian was trying to peer into my soul.

  “Strictly speaking, there are no new leads,” he abruptly said. “We found no signs of forced entry; no intruders were detected. The murderer is using fae spells—there’s no way they could move undetected through the house and not be caught. But it seems that for the same reason the murderer themselves cannot be fae. The Drake lands are warded against most spells. A fae couldn’t cross the property line without raising the alarm.”