Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy #1)(21)

I found the maids attacking a dragon statue with sudsy rags and grim expressions.

I waved to them as I approached. “Hey—I’m Hazel. Debra sent me to help you.”

One of the ladies—an older woman with gray hair—smiled widely. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? The name’s Bea, that’s Ellie.” She nodded at the other maid—a doe-eyed, college-aged student.

Ellie gave me a weak smile as she polished the inside of the statue’s nostrils. “Hello.”

“We just have that statue left—could you be a dear and get started on it?” Bea pointed across the driveway, to the twin of the stone dragon they were vigorously scrubbing.

I swiped a wet brush and one of their buckets, then settled in to wash the stone monstrosity—which was bigger than me.

We were quiet—concentrating on our work—but I enjoyed listening to the birds as they fluttered in the trees above us. The rough stone of the statue felt like sandpaper whenever my grasp on my brush slipped and I banged my knuckles on it. I tried to scrape mold off a front fang, and I contemplated what I had left to do for the day.

While dinner was served, I’d need to go through the walk-in cooler that held the blood packs. We just got a delivery today, so I’d need to re-order the packs and put the older ones in the front, or they’d expire and go bad. (I’d discovered last week that the servants just served the vampires whatever was freshest and tossed the rest. It was a colossal waste of money, but my main incentive was that it made me gleeful that the vampires were getting served older blood.)

“How long have you worked in Drake Hall, Hazel?” Bea called across the driveway.

I shook myself from my slightly vindictive thoughts. “Just a week.”

“Gosh, a green one, are you?” Bea smiled as she buffed the statue’s front foot. “I’ve seen you around—I thought for sure you were Connie’s replacement.”

“Connie?”

Bea’s smile dimmed slightly. “Ah, she passed on recently.”

I recalled the kitchen gossip that a maid and two blood donors had been killed before the vampire. Connie must have been the maid. I chewed on my lip and wondered how many more questions I could ask. Given all the “fun” I’d gone through the last few weeks I understood it was a tough topic, but as a wizard I hadn’t heard about the murders.

“It’s kind of rude of me to ask,” I started. “But…how did she die?”

“She was a victim of the murders that have been plaguing the vampire community of late,” Bea said. “Of course, it’s mostly been blood donors and servants of the most honored Families, but there’ve been a few slayings as well.”

“Are all the victims killed in the same method?” I asked.

“No.” Bea tossed her rag in her bucket and pressed her lips together. “It seems the vampires have more violent ends—they’re found completely drained and often with grievous wounds. The humans are more peacefully killed—if you can call any sort of murder peaceful.” She shook her head and picked up the bucket, coming to join me. “These are terrible times.”

“Yeah,” I echoed.

“Didn’t you know about the murders before you got here?” Ellie joined us and started in on the statue’s tail. “I’m friends with one of the kitchen assistants. She said you’re a wizard. Wouldn’t that make you part of their society?” She pointed back in the direction of the mansion.

I snorted. “No. Supernaturals don’t mix well. We tend to stick to our own—besides, we’ve got laws to keep us from meddling with each other. And no one wants to bother.” My last few words came out more bitter than I meant for them to, but neither Bea nor Ellie seemed to notice.

“That’s sad,” Ellie quietly said.

I shrugged. “It’s been that way for a long time—at least half a century.” I trailed off as I cocked my head and listened.

It was quiet.

Our voices were the only noises in a forest that had been alive with bird songs just a few minutes ago. They couldn’t have all nested down for the night—the sun was still up. But the last few weeks had, more than anything, only amplified the paranoia installed in me from a lifetime of bullying.

I dropped my brush in the bucket and peered into the shadows of the tree-shaded lane. I heard leaves rustle, and narrowed my eyes.

“Hazel?” Ellie asked.

More leaves rustled.

“I hear something.” I lowered my voice to a whisper as I slowly turned in a circle.

My eyes caught a tiny bit of movement, and I froze. Fifty feet away, looming behind a tree, was a nightmare of a creature. It somewhat resembled a giant, wingless wasp with six sapling sized legs and a stinger that was approximately the size of a dagger poking out of its rear. It was bigger than Bea and stood upright on its back legs, its four other legs moving around it like a spider feeling for a web. It had the serrated jaws of a beetle, and its head and back were covered by a grayish brown exoskeleton. It blended in so well with the forest I would have missed it, if not for the silver, scythe-like claws that tipped its four front appendages and glittered in the fading light.

It had to be a creature from the fae dimension. But what was it doing here?

More importantly, what did we do? There was no way we could fight the thing! And judging by its size and willowy frame I didn’t think we could outrun it. But would help come before it killed us?