Magic Redeemed (Hall of Blood and Mercy Book 2)

by K. M. Shea

  Mason gave me his attention again as I picked up my katana—my blood had turned tacky and sticky on the hilt. Cleaning it was going to be disgusting.

  “You’ve learned your place now,” Mason said. “You were never fit to run House Medeis. Neither were your parents.”

  “You say that as if you aren’t the worst thing that ever happened to our House.” I laughed, wincing when it hurt. I started to discreetly pile magic around my feet, building my power for my next—and final—attack.

  Mason shrugged. “The wizarding community doesn’t agree with you. The respectability and general rank of House Medeis has increased.”

  “Ahh, Mason.” I pushed my katana into the ground again and held on. “Didn’t I already tell you? I’m not fighting you for the House, but my family.” I smiled. “Checkmate.”

  Mason frowned. “What—”

  I unleashed my magic, causing massive lightning strikes that struck the area in a twenty-foot diameter around me.

  The first struck Mason, instantly flattening him and making his clothes smolder.

  The next hit Gideon—making the Heir yell in pain and flinging him a few feet as the ground beneath my feet glowed blue with my magic.

  Bolt after bolt struck, splitting the air, burning the ground, and the attacking wizards.

  A few House Tellier wizards dragged themselves out of my circle. I got Gideon twice, but Mason I struck again and again as blue sparks danced around me and the area was such a violently bright blue it was nearly impossible to see.

  The ground rocked, and the air trembled with electrical currents.

  I yanked my sword from the ground, and the lightning bolts stopped striking and instead arced around me in a beautiful show of crackling lines and hissing sparks.

  I wiped more blood off my face as I knelt down at Gideon’s side.

  He made a mewling sound, but he couldn’t get his limbs under control to move away from me.

  I dispassionately rested the edge of my katana on his uncovered neck, making his face turn red with fright and the veins in his neck pop. “This is your only warning, Tellier,” I said in a cold, dispassionate voice. “Come after me or my family—or even think of helping Mason again—and I’ll find you. And if that happens, it will only take one lightning strike to fix it. Do you understand?”

  Gideon nodded.

  I stood, pausing when my vision briefly turned blurry and my stomach again voiced its doubts.

  For a moment I wanted to kick Gideon hard in the ribs for all those times he’d tortured me, picked on me, and made my childhood miserable.

  But even though so much of what I had thought to be truths were lies, I knew if I did something like that, I’d be no better than Gideon.

  I made my way to Mason.

  He was in the worst shape. His limbs were still twitching, his clothes were smoking, and the lightning had actually torn one of his shoes off. He couldn’t stop moving.

  I didn’t kneel by him, but I did rest the edge of my sword against his neck as I had with Gideon.

  “Mason, do you agree it is your loss?” I asked with ice in my voice.

  It took a few moments before he stuttered out, “A-agreed.”

  I slowly blocked off my magic pathways, and my wizard’s mark flickered out.

  “Hazel!” Momoko flew toward me, Felix right behind her.

  “You did it—you crazy girl!” Felix messed up my hair, but guardedly watched the House Tellier wizards scrape themselves off the ground and edge toward the sidewalk.

  The House Rothchild wizards stood awkwardly at the edge of the porch and were almost run over by the outpouring of House Medeis family members.

  “Adept!”

  “Hazel—you’re home!”

  “Welcome home, Adept!”

  I laughed as my family crowded around me.

  Franco—Felix’s older brother—dabbed at the smeared blood on my hand with a washcloth. “We’ll have to get you to the doctor.”

  “Surely we could afford a fae healing potion?” Great Aunt Marraine asked.

  “Hazel, Hazel!” Ivy stretched her arms out to me, holding the macaroni necklace she tried to give me at my parents’ funeral.

  Behind me, Mason groaned.

  I reached out a hand to brush Ivy’s head, but grimaced at the dried blood on my hands. “Just a minute, Ivy.”

  I stepped back from my family and returned to Mason, watching him.

  He was still in pretty bad shape. He’d need a doctor, but I was pretty sure he could speak without stuttering now, given that he was sitting upright.

  “Mason.” I did my best to imitate the icy, uncaring tone Killian used when he was at his worst.

  It must have worked to some degree. Mason’s skin turned ashen as he looked up at me.

  I stabbed my sword forward—stopping just short of piercing his throat.

  (This brought gasps from my House Medeis family.)

  “You admitted your loss. House Medeis is mine—as it always was,” I snarled.

  Mason’s throat bulged as he swallowed, and his hands started to shake again.

  “Because I’m not like you, I’m willing to offer you mercy. You will leave House Medeis today, and by tomorrow I want you out of the Midwest Region.”

  Mason audibly ground his teeth, but I didn’t care if he was angry.

  “Your false paperwork that declared you Adept is no longer valid. From this moment forth you are considered an exile of House Medeis.”

  “Be reasonable—”

  “You tore House Medeis apart with your selfish ambition, and terrorized the family we have grown up with.” My voice was so frosty the air felt colder. “It’s called mercy because I’m granting you something you are unworthy of, Mason. You deserve pain and suffering, but in the spirit of the Medeis I grant you this chance.”

  I leaned in so my face was so close to Mason’s he could feel my hot breath. “However. If you attack me or any member of House Medeis again, I will kill you.”

  That raised another round of gasps and concerned murmurs—of course, fighting, much less killing, was not the Medeis way.

  It didn’t matter, though. Despite the pain he was obviously in, Mason’s eyes still glowed with hatred.

  Given that he hadn’t killed anyone, and that House Tellier was just as guilty as he was, I wasn’t expecting much of a punishment from the Curia Cloisters—though I would hound them endlessly until they booted him from our region, and I was going to embark on a rampage to figure out how the Wizard Council had approved Mason as Adept without officially meeting. But I’d be true to my word—all of it.

  The Paragon clapped loudly. “Hazel Medeis is rightful Adept of House Medeis.” He was still sitting out on the sidewalk, his quill pen clenched between his teeth. “And might I say, that was positively a wicked attack! I don’t think I’d ever seen wizards use an attack that affected an entire area around them. Well done! Even Aphrodite was impressed!”

  Aphrodite, still secured against the Paragon’s chest in her baby sling, flicked one of her giant, hairless ears. “Mmert.”

  I laughed and waved to the fae and his cat. “Please, Paragon and Aphrodite. I invite you both into House Medeis.”

  “Fantastic!” The Paragon got to work disassembling his easel. “I have some questions to ask you now that Drake isn’t hiding you away in his Hall. Do you—”

  “ADEPT!”

  Some of the members of House Medeis screamed, but I’d already heard the scuff of grass behind me.

  Days of drilling prompted me. Without looking back, I whipped my sword behind me, unflinching when it pierced flesh.

  Mason.

  I turned around, but his fate had already been sealed.

  Mason had attempted to jump me from behind. Instead, I had stabbed him through the chest. He wasn’t going to make it, because he had chosen cowardice and greed over my mercy.

  A dagger slipped from his limp fingers—probably what he meant to kill me with—before he collapsed to his knees.<
br />
  I stepped closer to him. The difference in our height meant I didn’t even have to crouch when I pulled my sword clean. “Just because I offer mercy, doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

  Mason’s eyes were still wide with shock as he died.

  I wasn’t happy with his death, but I wasn’t going to regret it.

  Mason had made a lifetime of poor choices. Ending it because he couldn’t let go was his decision.

  Judging by the shocked expressions of everyone from House Medeis, I wasn’t sure they saw it quite the same way.

  Great Aunt Marraine was shaking so hard I thought she might collapse, and Mr. Baree was watching me the way one watched a rabid wolf.

  Momoko, however, had a hardened smile and a gleam in her eye that told me she understood, and Felix had a thoughtful expression settle on his face as he rubbed at the magic-reducing bracelet.

  “What a mess.” The Paragon peered over my shoulder. “Make no mistake—you acted in self-defense. I would be happy to testify such a thing, as I’m sure any of the fine wizards from House…what House are you again?” He turned to Gideon.

  “H-House Tellier, Paragon.” His legs shook as he bowed to the Paragon.

  “That’s right, the House of ugly color combinations. For real—your ancestors should have looked at a color wheel.” The Paragon wrinkled his nose at Gideon, then pulled a cellphone with a neon green cactus cover from Aphrodite’s sling. “I’ll ring up the Elite and tell him some wizard reinforcements are needed to come down and handle everything.”

  I looked around for my sword scabbard, then realized it was useless—there was no way I was putting my katana away when it was spattered with blood. “Thank you, Paragon.”

  “Adept…” Great Aunt Marraine said in her quavering voice. “How could you…?”

  “Things are going to change for House Medeis,” I said simply.

  “I’m sure. But you are injured, Adept.” Mrs. Clark’s face was white when she glanced past me at Mason, but the smile she gave me was still motherly. “We really should see to your injuries first.”

  The pounding ache that rippled out from the top of my head was starting to get distracting. “Okay,” I agreed. “But we also need to find the keys to get those bracelets off you all.”

  “I know where they are!” Franco grinned at me. “Felix, come help!”

  Felix glanced at Momoko, who curled an arm around my mid back, tugging me so I leaned into her. “I’ve got her,” she said. “She’ll be okay until we get these stupid bracelets off.”

  “I am not a child the two of you need to watch,” I grumbled.

  “I disagree, Adept.” Mrs. Clark’s face was sorrowful as she and Momoko guided me across the lawn. “You are still a child, who has been forced to deal with horrors no human should.”

  I didn’t answer—I was busy holding my breath as we crossed the threshold of the House, wondering if it was going to smite me for openly saying I valued my family first.

  Mercifully, it was silent, and I relaxed just a little.

  “I happen to have a few fae healing potions on me,” the Paragon declared as he shamelessly followed us inside and looked around. “Why don’t you set Adept Medeis on a chair, and we can get one in her, yes?”

  They settled me in the closest spot—a rickety wooden chair settled in the hallway.

  The Paragon pushed a golden potion encased in a glass vial into my hands. It had that faint floral taste that always accompanied fae magic, but it also tasted warm and musical—like piano music.

  And as I took a swig of my potion I peered up at the Paragon, and wondered how, exactly, he had heard that I was going to attack Mason, and that I was no longer in Drake Hall…

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hazel

  In the end, there wasn’t any fallout from Mason’s death.

  As the Paragon had offered, he’d phoned the Elite, who sent out guards from the Cloisters to collect Mason’s body.

  The Elite had dropped the rank of all the Houses that had helped Mason and was lodging paperwork that barred them from serving on the Wizard Council for the next decade. I had formally broken off all alliances with the traitorous—but for the moment, I was most concerned with the mental/emotional wellbeing of my family, and House Medeis itself.

  It seemed that even though Mason had the paperwork proclaiming him Adept, he hadn’t been able to do anything to House Medeis.

  Since I had the key to both the lockbox at Tutu’s and the House vault that contained things like the family’s social security cards, birth certificates, etc, he hadn’t been able to force the family to officially ratify his position. And without the ring, he couldn’t Ascend.

  Which meant as a whole very little had changed for our House. Structurally, anyway.

  My family was a lot quieter, and I noticed wrinkles and silver hair that hadn’t been there before my parents died, as well as the occasional haunted expression.

  House Medeis itself was silent. I felt its magic stir, but it didn’t even cut me off from hot water.

  No one seemed worried about this except me. I was pretty concerned this didn’t mean the House was satisfied, but incredibly weak.

  The House had essentially been without an Adept for months. Adepts were necessary to keep a House functioning because of the flow of magic, and House Medeis had been cut off since my parents had died.

  Which was why, four days after I had won my House back, I was trying to draw all the necessary paperwork together to file for my Ascension.

  I didn’t have the ring, so it wouldn’t be a real Ascension, but it would hopefully open the flow at least a little between the House and me so I could stir up some of its magic.

  I chewed on my lip as I turned the two keys required to open the House safe, grinning when it swung open. “Here we go—the necessary forms of ID and registration.” I triumphantly swiped a stack of papers from the small safe and brandished my prize in the air. “And you can bet I’m going to take at least five years before I ‘remember’ to go re-register and get my magic tested,” I grumbled. “Or at the very least I should wait one year for every month the Wizard Council sat on their dusseldorfs and refused to help me.”

  I carried the papers back to my dad’s desk—now my desk—and started sifting through them.

  My parents had organized them so each household in the family had their own folder—the Clarks had one, the Barees another, and so on.

  The Medeis folder was the thickest—which was kind of funny because we were the smallest household in the family since it had just been me and my parents.

  But when I flipped our manila folder open, I discovered it was all because of a thick envelope pressed just in the cover.

  Curious, I flipped it over, my heart stopping.

  Hazel

  I recognized the writing as Mom’s. But what did they have in here that hadn’t been left with the lawyers, or the lockbox in Tutu’s?

  Was it paperwork for when they had me sealed? But I’d gone through the safe with my parents just last year and never saw this stuffed envelope.

  I paused, then grabbed my dad’s old-fashioned letter opener, savagely ripping it open.

  Inside were a couple sheets of white printer paper. I plucked them out and unfolded them to read, and they almost immediately fell from my numb fingers.

  Dear Hazel,

  If you’re reading this it means the worst has happened, and both of us are dead.

  It was my dad’s handwriting this time—another slug to the gut.

  I really didn’t want to read it. I didn’t even know what to think of my parents anymore after everything I’d been through. I couldn’t tell where the lies ended and the truth began.

  I wracked my brain, trying to recall if the lawyers had ever shown me a letter like this—I didn’t think so. Everything had been squared away with the will.

  A good five minutes passed before I gave in to my twisted sense of hope and dread, and started reading again.

  Which means w
e have so much to tell you—things that will hurt you, and things that might make you hate us.

  To begin, your magic abilities were partially sealed by the fae Paragon as a baby.

  While we have raised you and registered you as having very little magic talent, in reality you are a rarity in your generation, for you have about as much magic power as I do.

  But you were sealed for several reasons. First, we wanted to shield you. Given that magic has lessened with each generation, it’s shocking you were born with as much talent as you have.

  Secondly…your mother and I wanted you to experience life with little to no magic, so you would know and understand how others have suffered.

  We didn’t do this out of a misguided effort to have you experience suffering at a young age, but rather because in the last decade, there’s been a distinct shift to wizard politics.

  I had to read the line twice—I almost couldn’t believe my eyes.

  Being sealed…it wasn’t about me personally?

  Since the 1900s, wizard Houses have banded together—first to stay strong against the other supernatural races, and then to stay strong when our presence was revealed to humans.

  In general, Houses have been friendly. Records of fighting between Houses have been extremely rare—only a few cases in the century.

  However, as magic has continued to die, desperation has begun pressing in on us.

  Before you were born your mother and I could see it. The stronger Houses began banding together to vote on what would suit their Houses best, instead of what was best for the wizard community as a whole. And it’s only gotten worse.

  I snorted. “That’s for sure.”

  The incident with Mason proved it.

  The other Houses had allowed Mason to go as far as he did because they didn’t want me as Adept when they thought I was weak. By the time I had unlocked my powers it was too late. And even though Killian had been cruel in his delivery, he was right. The wizarding community would be eternally wary of me due to my connection with the Drakes if they were even half as concerned about preserving wizards as Dad thought they were.