Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy #1)(15)

I winced at the unnecessary threat. “I will not betray you, sir.”

“Mm.” Killian stood, making him even taller than I had imagined, and addressed the other vampires. “This will end today’s discussion. You have all wasted enough of my time proving you are unknowledgeable idiots. Find out more information on the murderer, or it will be your body I will send back to your Family Elders.”

He was off the steps and striding down the carpet runner in the blink of an eye, unnaturally fast with his vampire speed.

The woman in the pantsuit took the book from me and set it back on the stand, then indicated that I should follow Killian.

I hesitated.

“Come along, servant,” Killian called.

I darted after him, feeling every bruise forming on the bottom of my feet.

“In my day pledges were made in Latin, but those were more civilized times,” a heavily accented voice sniffed as I rushed after Killian.

Killian paused at the main entrance, cocking his head at the doors—which Mason was now timidly knocking on.

The vampire slightly narrowed his eyes, then lashed out, delivering a kick that hit both of the doors and made them crash open.

Mason must have been standing in the doors’ way, because he was sprawled on the ground, pressed against the far wall with a stunned look of shock and pain pasted on his face.

He saw me and scrambled to his feet, then froze. Paused halfway in the process of standing, he flicked his eyes in Killian Drake’s direction and gulped loudly.

Killian didn’t even look at him. He merely adjusted his cufflinks, then started down the hallway.

Remembering how I had struggled with the heavy doors, I glanced at them as I passed through, but was careful to stay close to Killian’s shadow, aware Mason was once again staring at me.

The dark-haired female vampire followed behind me, pausing to close the doors. She stared at Mason and his goons for several long moments, then put her right hand in a deep pocket of her suitcoat.

Mason and the House Tellier wizards bowed, but they didn’t even dare mumble as they fled down the hallway.

The message had been clear enough—I was off limits. For now.





I don’t know if it was the exhaustion, relief, or trauma of the night, but when I followed Killian out to the motorcade, I didn’t question the female vampire ushering me into a black SUV that she drove.

I fell asleep, and didn’t wake up until we were in the underground parking lot of the Drake Family’s estate.

The female vampire led me to what looked like a windowless coat closet and told me to wait there, then left.

My eyes felt like heavy weights, and the events of the night threatened to set in as I sat down on a wooden bench positioned by the darkened doorway. I shut my eyes for what felt like just a moment, but when I opened them again, I was lying flat on a cushy couch.

I rocketed upright, gripping the back of the couch as I blinked and tried to get my bearings.

I was in what looked like a fancy sort of…parlor? There was a marble fireplace, giant windows covered with half drawn shades that seemed to block a lot of light, and there were lots of comfortable, expensive couches artfully arranged around the room, along with what looked like an original Claude Monet painting from his Water Lilies series.

The night’s events hit me like a car, and I remembered with stark clarity exactly whom I had sworn myself to, and what I was running from.

I held in a groan as I propped my elbows up on my legs and bent slightly so I could rub my eyes. I’d been betrayed…but why?

Mason had been perfectly happy with my parents as the House Medeis Adepts. Was he really that enraged with my lack of magic?

But that was improbable. House Medeis was by far the most peaceful wizarding House in the region—and not just when my parents ran it. Medeis had always been considered peaceful—or pacifists by the more violent minded, like House Tellier.

No one joined House Medeis unless they shared the same ideals—under no circumstances were you to take a life, you had to be slow to fight, and on and on. No one who joined House Medeis would want to overthrow me. And not just because it would do a lot of damage to the actual House, but because fighting was the exact opposite of what House Medeis stood for!

My eyes were threatening to sting with tears, but I held them back by releasing the groan I’d been holding in for an equally long time.

In less than a month I’d lost my parents and my House. And the only way I could survive was to pledge myself to the vampires.

My life officially sucked.

“Oh, so you’re awake?”

I removed my thumbs from my eyelids and peered up at a thin woman with bright red hair and smile lines so deep they gave her a perpetual grin. She was maybe in her mid-40s, and wore a white shirt with a black skirt and apron that made her look a bit like a waiter, but her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and she had yellow banana earrings hanging from the lobes of her ears.

“I’m Debra.” She cheerfully extended her hand.

When I took it she pumped my arm a few times. “Hazel,” I said.

“Well, Hazel, seeing how you arrived in the middle of the night and seemed a mite exhausted, we let you sleep a bit.” Debra looked me up and down as she put her hands on her hips.

“Thank you,” I said. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon. Here.” She handed me a snack packet of seasoned pistachios and motioned for me to follow her. “A snack to hold you over. You’ll have lunch with me, but I’m to give you a quick tour first.”