Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy #1)(17)

“The kitchen and all the servants’ quarters are located near the back of Drake Hall,” Debra said. “Blood donors have rooms in the same hallway as ours, but they aren’t expected to work.”

“How many blood donors live here?” I asked.

“Currently? Twelve.”

I nodded as we made a sharp turn. “And how many vampires?”

Debra turned an eyebrow up at what she must have imagined was an inappropriate question, but she answered anyway. “Thirty-eight of them—though the Drake Family is much larger. A number of Drake vampires elect to live off the hall grounds or are positioned around the Midwest to serve as the Eminence wishes.”

Ah. In other words, Killian Drake scattered his men across the Midwest to better control it. I nodded, because she seemed to expect some sort of response, before her words actually dawned on me. “Wait. Twelve blood donors, for thirty-eight vampires?”

Did they drink the donors dry and toss their bodies out in the pool? Twelve humans couldn’t possibly satisfy almost forty vampires!

A bell rang, interrupting us before Debra could explain the uneven mathematical equation. She gave me a business-like nod, then marched to what was clearly a back entrance to the house, given that it was surrounded by coat closets, and flung the door open.

A female vamp stood at the doorway, balancing a cardboard box in either hand. “I’ve got this week’s blood delivery.” She smiled and gave Debra a slight nod in greeting.

“You know the way?” Debra asked.

“Yep!” She hopped inside and made a beeline down the hallway. She must have been a newer vamp—her hair was dyed an ombre blond, and though she wore a delivery jacket in her company colors, she had a pair of dark jeans on.

I was a little surprised—vampires don’t typically hold down jobs outside of their Family. She probably was an Unclaimed—a vampire that didn’t pledge allegiance to or belong to a vampire Family. It’s the vampire version of werewolf Lone Wolves.

She darted through an open doorway—the kitchen, judging by the sound of rattling dishes and the sharp tap of a knife on a cutting board—but returned to the hallway in a flash.

Debra smiled pleasantly as the delivery vampire trotted back outside, but held the door open. “Most Drake Family vampires drink packaged blood.”

“Really?” I asked, trying to hide my skepticism.

Lots of vampires drank packaged blood—it was a cheaper and more easily law-abiding alternative to keeping blood donors on retainer, something the average vampire couldn’t afford.

But blood donors were a sign of status. Most of the powerful vampire Families kept more blood donors than members so they never had to drink from a blood pack.

There was no way Killian freaking Drake’s vampire Family dined mostly on blood packs.

“Really,” Debra assured me. She stepped back, giving the delivery vampire a clear path when she returned with two more boxes. “In fact, Killian Drake only drinks packaged blood.”

I had to work hard to keep my jaw from dropping. “The Eminence,” I squeaked, my voice going high, “only drinks blood packs?”

Debra gave me a smile that was half wry half smug. “Indeed.”

The delivery vampire made four more trips while we waited in silence.

There had to be a reason for Killian Drake’s pre-packaged diet. I didn’t believe for a minute that the Eminence—the vampire leader of the Midwest—drank packaged blood due to the cost or the reluctance to see humans as dinner.

Once Debra had signed off on the blood delivery, she marched down to the kitchens.

Standing in the doorway, I was overwhelmed by the spotless white of the kitchen. The elaborate wooden cupboards and the fancy molding on the edges and corners were all painted white. White marble topped every counter, the walls were a shining white—the only relief was the stainless-steel appliances and sinks. And yeah, you got that right—there were multiple sinks, and four fridges that I saw—though I was willing to bet there was a walk-in fridge somewhere for the blood packs.

Scurrying through this intimidating domain was: a pair of chefs, three assistants, a baker who was busy rolling out cookie dough, and a teenage boy who must have been the dedicated dishwasher given that he was elbow deep in soap suds.

It seemed a little overkill given the number of blood donors in the house, but vampires could technically eat regular human food. Not much—and it didn’t have any nutritional value for them—but if most of them drank packaged blood it wouldn’t be too surprising that they prefer to have a human meal occasionally.

Two well-dressed females—both of them looked in their early thirties or so—were perched at one of two kitchen islands with an equally well-dressed man. All three of them were humans—you could tell by their colored eyes.

Vampires always have red eyes. The exact hue and shade of red varied per vamp, but was a dead-giveaway—and one they couldn’t easily hide.

This meant all three of them were probably blood donors since they weren’t dressed in the white and black kitchen uniforms and they seemed occupied with nibbling on food.

Debra waited a moment or two, but the kitchen staff were too busy working and chatting to notice her, and the blood donors were pretty focused on the baker’s progress with the cookie dough.

Eventually she gave in and clapped twice. “Everyone, this is Hazel Medeis. She is a newly sworn servant to the Drake Family, and will be serving here in the kitchens until we find a permanent spot for her. Please help and direct her as needed.”