Magic Redeemed (Hall of Blood and Mercy Book 2)

by K. M. Shea

  It backfired three times in a row, making a few of the House Tellier wizards jump, as it puttered along the road.

  I risked a glance over my shoulder and watched in confusion as a battered, banana yellow Volkswagen bug screeched to a stop, parking on the curb.

  The front door swung open, and the Paragon popped out, carrying a picnic basket and wearing one of those cloth baby slings. Only instead of a baby, a hairless cat with judgmental blue eyes peered out at the world with an expression that communicated her general distaste for the place.

  “Hazel—hi-hi!” The Paragon set his basket down so he could wave to me. “I’m so glad I made it in time!” He bustled to the sidewalk gate, then kicked it open.

  I thought the House might react, but the gate didn’t even creak as it swung open.

  A quick peek at Mason showed he was just as shocked and confused as I was. “Paragon?”

  The Paragon set his basket down again and pointed at his bald cat. “And Aphrodite, too!”

  The cat yawned, showing off her needle-like teeth, then meowed.

  “She insisted on coming with to see you—she has become rather fond of you, I dare say!” The Paragon flipped the basket lid open and pulled out a full sized kitchen stool (how?), and a folded-up easel that he began wrestling with.

  Once it was assembled to his liking, he set it up in front of him and plopped down on the stool, camping out on the patch of sidewalk just outside of his non-gate-hindered view of House Medeis.

  Mason relaxed his hold on Great Aunt Marraine. He even went so far as to pat her benevolently on the shoulder. “Paragon,” Mason began in his most charismatic voice. “Please allow me to extend an invitation, and explain what—”

  The Paragon shoved his hand out in front of him and waved it, cutting Mason off. “Ah-ah-ah—that is not necessary.”

  Mason glanced at the House Tellier wizard, who had discreetly peeled the water off Momoko’s face and was trying not to grimace as she ground her heel into his foot.

  “You see, I am not here as the Paragon—the spokesman for every fae Court in the United States of America, the ambassador for every fae creature, and the highest ranking fae in our country. No, not at all.” Though the Paragon kept his voice sunny and bright, Mason and the House Tellier wizards turned progressively paler as he rattled through his list.

  “I am here as an observer.” The Paragon dug into his picnic basket again. This time he pulled out a sketchpad and a fistful of pencils. “Hazel Medeis has received unconventional training which has made her use of magic something of a throwback to our more ancient of days. I’m curious to see how she faces off against her own kind, so I am here to record it for educational purposes.”

  He smiled, showing surprisingly white and perfect teeth, and no one present believed a word of what he said.

  The Paragon was throwing his political weight around, without strictly doing anything per se. I didn’t think he’d step in and help me fight, but his sheer presence would keep Mason from threatening one of my family members as a way to subdue me.

  Mason seemed to realize the same thing, because some of his charm faded away as his eyes flicked to me, and I saw anger in the lines around his mouth.

  “You are going to fight, are you not?” the Paragon asked.

  Mason’s smile returned. “I believe you have misunderstood what’s going on, honored Paragon. This is a simple dispute between Hazel and me, there is no need for a—”

  “Because if you’re not going to start right now that will give me a chance to phone up the Elite. I imagine he’d be interested in observing Hazel’s unconventional use of magic as well!” The Paragon smiled so brightly I could see his fae nature.

  It wasn’t that he sprouted wings or shed pixie dust, it was in the way his words seemed so harmless and sincere.

  Fae were masters of deception.

  Granted, the Paragon wasn’t doing much to screen his threats, but he appeared so genuine his words almost seemed logical.

  Of course he would want to watch me use my magic. Of course the Elite would want to see, too. It took me a few moments to realize there was nothing logical about this, and how had he even known what was going on? Our only connection was Killian—who obviously hadn’t called him after he wouldn’t even let his people drive me back to the city.

  Name-dropping the Elite’s title wasn’t because he really wanted to chat with the wizard, but because he was again indirectly blocking and herding Mason into a fair fight—or as fair as I would get without my own backers.

  I eyed the Paragon with new respect, but he was more proof how out-of-my-league I’d been with Killian and the Drake Family. I had allowed his odd cat, his complaining, and his cheery facade to sway me, covering up his fae nature and his own maneuverings.

  At least he was helping me. No one could accuse him of favoring me given that all he intended to do was sit there, but it was more than any of the other wizarding Houses had done for me—more than the wizard subcommittee had done.

  Mason slightly tilted his head. “Perhaps we could put on a play fight for your sake—”

  “Winner takes House Medeis,” I said, blasting through the pretty veneer of his words.

  “Until first bloodshed,” Great Aunt Marraine said in a quavering voice that made my heart twist.

  “No.” I narrowed my eyes. “Until the other is incapacitated. We’re settling this today, Mason.”

  “It seems rude to settle such personal matters in front of our guest.” Mason’s gaze strayed to the Paragon, who was arranging his sketchpad on his easel.

  “Adept Mason,” the Paragon said. “If you think the community as a whole is unaware of your feud with Hazel, and believe you can hide this, you are as stupid as you look.” The Paragon’s eyes glowed, and for a second he looked a century younger. “Fight,” he ordered in a terrible voice that reverberated in my bones.

  Aphrodite meowed, and in the blink of an eye the Paragon was once again a harmless old fae as he fussed over his pet. “Oh my, Aphrodite—are you cold? Do you need a sweater?”

  It took Mason several tries before he was able to swallow. “Well, then,” he smiled. “It seems we will fight. But since you are the challenger, Hazel, I believe my allies should be allowed to help me.”

  “That’s not fair!” Felix shouted.

  “Naturally, those belonging to House Medeis will remain neutral parties,” Mason continued in his charming voice. “We couldn’t expect them to choose between the two of us, after all.”

  Mr. Baree growled like a bear. “Coward!”

  Mason narrowed his eyes at him, and I made a quick inspection of Mason’s allies.

  Nine from Tellier and two from Rothchild—and Gideon the Idiot, AKA the Heir of House Tellier—was one of the nine. On top of Mason…could I handle them all at once? He clearly didn’t think I could.

  I opened my inner gates, letting magic swim through my bloodstream and burn my skin as my wizard’s mark surfaced. “It sounds like you’re not going to give me a choice.”

  Mason morosely shook his head. “We don’t have to do this, Hazel. The House’s prestige has risen. Isn’t that more important than a few petty squabbles or disagreements? The House comes first, after all.”

  I looked past Mason, at the tired and hopeless expressions of my family, and something in me broke.

  All my life I’d heard that horrible phrase. I hadn’t ever liked it, but it seemed logical—the House was necessary for our survival.

  But did we really want to survive if our existence was going to be miserable—like this?

  “No,” I said. “The House doesn’t come before everything, at least not for me.”

  A gasp whirled through everyone gathered as House Tellier, Rothchild, and Medeis wizards gaped at me.

  Gideon—who had been ambling across the lawn, abruptly retreated, and almost everyone turned to look back to House Medeis to see how it would punish me.

  The House was still.

  I smiled as I straightene
d my wrist, bringing my katana into a guard position. “Right now, I don’t care about the House. I’m here because you’re terrorizing my family. To me, they are my top priority. You can have the House if you want it that badly—but you won’t take it. Because what good is a House without any wizards? So let’s finish this disagreement.”

  Gideon looked to Mason. The Medeis traitor nodded, and Gideon ambled across the lawn again. “House Tellier, let’s go!”

  Mason swiveled to look expectantly at the two House Rothchild wizards—two women.

  The women nervously looked from Mason to me. “It seems to me, that although we are allies, one House shouldn’t interfere with the inheritance of another House,” one of them nervously said.

  Mason narrowed his eyes. “Are you afraid of her? Why? There are no vampires at her back.”

  The second House Rothchild wizard rocked back on her heels. “It doesn’t matter if she’s supported or not. We stayed out of it when you made your move. We’ll continue to stay out of it now.”

  Lightning zipped up and down the blade of my katana. “Stop worrying, Mason, and get down here.”

  Mason smiled brightly and shook his head. “I think House Tellier can handle you.”

  I stared incredulously at him. “You’re seriously not going to fight? What kind of a—” I cut myself off when Gideon summoned his favorite attack—a fireball—to his fingertips.

  This changed things. I couldn’t take them all out with one massive attack like I’d hoped. If I did that Mason might try to run or delay the fight, and I couldn’t afford that since I had the element of surprise and the Paragon’s presence to keep things at least halfway fair.

  Gideon flung the fireball at me, starting the fight.

  I ducked it and swung my sword through the air, making the lightning on it crackle and leap to the nearest wizard.

  He yipped and backed up a step, but the eight other Tellier wizards closed ranks on me.

  I forged a shield of pure magic and slid it around to cover my back, my thoughts tripping over themselves as I tried to both defend and come up with a strategy.

  Gideon threw another fireball at me. I had just enough time to shoot off a stream of water, which hissed and evaporated when the attacks collided, filling the air with hazy steam.

  I couldn’t see them, but more importantly they couldn’t see me or each other.

  I held my breath as I listened.

  Grass crunched under boots to my left, and I swung my hand through the air, shooting off a thin line of blue flames.

  A woman yelped in pain, and I flung baseball sized chunks of ice now that I’d narrowed the area down.

  She shrieked, and Gideon cursed.

  “Someone clear this steam,” he shouted.

  A massive wind curled around me, almost knocking me off my feet until I stabbed my katana into the lawn and held on to its hilt.

  The steam cleared out, letting me see my victim, who was clutching her bleeding head.

  My hours of practice with my shield paid off. One of the wizards flung what sounded like a massive rock at it—which ricocheted off it and hit the attacking wizard with a painful thud. Eliciting an airless wheeze.

  I glanced at Mason. He had his arms folded across his chest and was leaning against the porch railing with a look of expectation.

  I’d have to lure him out—let him think House Tellier had me almost beat so he could make the finishing blow himself, and then I’d get him and all the Tellier wizards with the lightning attack that affected a large area—the same kind I had used on Rupert.

  The trickiest part of that would be letting the Tellier wizards beat on me without getting badly injured so, when Mason finally stepped in, I’d still have the strength to defeat him.

  The woman with the bloodied head was slowly crawling away—bringing it down to an eight on one fight, though a quick glance behind me confirmed the wizard who had tried to go through my shield was still plastered on the ground, struggling to breathe.

  Four wizards rushed me at once, coming at me from the sides.

  I ducked the fire attack and sliced through a dagger-sharp icicle one of them had thrown at my chest, my katana cleaving it like butter. The third wizard created something that looked like a prickly vine—even though it was Tellier orange—and flung it at me. I rotated my katana and cut through it, but instead of dissipating the attack, it separated, one vine wrapping around each arm. The thorny bits dug convulsively into my skin, creating rows of deep scratches and making it hard to hold on to my katana.

  I clenched my teeth as I made blue fire dance up and down my arms, burning the vines to ash, but pain still rippled through my muscles. While I tried to adjust my hold on my katana’s hilt, the fourth wizard tried to knock me to the ground by raising the turf beneath my feet.

  I threw myself into a sideways roll, my shoulder taking the brunt of the force before I popped back to my feet, coming up just behind one of the wizards.

  Scratch that—it was going to be equally hard to hold back from using an area attack. Eight wizards was a lot of targets when I could only hit one at a time.

  The closest wizard turned around, but he was so slow compared to the quicksilver vampires.

  I rotated my wrist, swinging my katana so the hilt faced out, then popped him on the side of the head.

  He went down like a sack of potatoes, which was pretty gratifying because for once I actually felt physically strong. (Let me tell you, it required a heck of a lot harder of a hit to take a vampire down!)

  I was still stupidly celebrating this feat when one of the female wizards created a dozen dagger-sharp icicles and flung them at me in such quick succession I couldn’t possibly block or duck them all.

  I avoided the worst of them, but one skimmed across the top of my shoulder, slicing straight through my protective shirt and through muscle. It wasn’t deep, but every arm movement made pain rip through that shoulder. Even worse, another skimmed the top of my hand.

  Memo to self—buy protective gloves, too.

  I didn’t want to get a worse injury, so I swung my magic shield around so it was in front of me.

  The wizard who had almost knocked himself out on my shield was standing on shaky legs—and we couldn’t have that.

  A chunk of ice to the knee dropped him again—this time with a painful crunch.

  The wound on my hand trickled blood across my fingers, which made it harder to keep the correct hand positions on my sword.

  I swiveled my shield to my back as I turned, taking quick inventory of the wizards.

  “Now!” Gideon shot off his stupidly-beloved fireball at me, along with five of his wizards.

  I jumped to the side, but they kept firing, and I knew I didn’t have the footing for another dodge, so I threw my shield in front of me as I tried to recover my form.

  It blocked the fire attacks, which bounced off its blue surface—raising shouts of surprise from the wizards.

  Unfortunately, those shouts covered up the movement directly behind me.

  The buzz of magic came too late.

  The fire had been a trap—distracting me while another wizard threw a rock boulder the size of a watermelon at my head.

  I dropped to my knees, but the thing smacked into the top of my head, scraping across it.

  Pain radiated from my skull to my toes, and my stomach quivered as I dropped, my muscles giving out.

  I could barely even think as the pain swam through my system. If that rock had hit me dead on, it probably would have killed me.

  “Hazel!” That was Felix calling for me. I could barely hear him over the ringing in my skull.

  Wishing I had been a bit faster and managed to dodge more of that attack, I shook my head as I tried to clear my vision of stars. Thankfully, the buzzing hum of my shield hung over my prone body, so the rest of the wizards couldn’t pile on me, but my skull was seriously rattled.

  I was now a fairly easy target for Mason. Hopefully he would take the bait—or I was going to have t
o gamble and get the Tellier wizards as a group and then chase Mason. There was no way I could take another hit like that and not drop.

  I made a show of trying to regain my footing, and instead fell flat on my face. But my ploy worked.

  Mason was slowly crossing the lawn, his charming smile growing with every step he took.

  That’s right, come closer…

  Chapter Twenty

  Hazel

  Blood dripped down my temple as I watched Mason. When I looked past him, a part of me couldn’t help but be irritated.

  My family—who outnumbered Mason and his minions—all stood and watched me with pale faces.

  Momoko was crying, her face pressed into Felix’s chest, but none of them tried to help me.

  I mean, they didn’t have magic, and this fight was between me and Mason…and yeah, none of them had the physical strength or training I’d received at Drake Hall. But were they seriously just content to stand there without a fight and watch as I got the life beaten out of me?

  There was something broken about that. I knew they loved me, but Medeis was a peaceful House. A pacifist House.

  And we wouldn’t survive if that didn’t change.

  Mason stopped just a few feet short of me. His wizard’s mark burned across his skin as blue magic encased his fists.

  “Unfortunately it seems you still aren’t strong enough to run House Medeis,” he said.

  “Because you hide behind the troops of another House!” Mr. Clark shouted.

  Mason swung around to scowl back at the House.

  I gripped a fistful of grass and pushed myself onto my knees. My stomach was still quivering, and I had the faint desire to throw up. But I couldn’t stop now—I could win if I just kept going.

  A rancid taste filled my mouth. I tried to swallow it as I managed to stand. The ground seemed to swivel under my feet, but I mentally marked the House Tellier wizards.

  It looked like I had subdued three of them. Gideon and the rest stood around me in a circle. Hopefully I’d be able to make an attack wide enough for all of them.