Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy #1)(33)

I sneaked a glance at Killian—he was pulling what looked like a white shirt from the bag and seemed pretty occupied. Good.

I gave Rupert the biggest smile I could muster. “That’s great. Though it seems I’ll have to hope the smell of my blood doesn’t upset your senses—which seem surprisingly delicate and fragile.”

Rupert, apparently having the maturity of a toddler, scowled and decided to tattle. “Your new pet is yippy, Your Eminence.”

“It is the nature of puppies,” Killian said in a dismissive tone. “Some find it endearing.”

Celestina cocked her head and studied Killian’s face. “Do you, Your Eminence?”





Chapter Nine





Hazel





Killian paused, and I held my breath and sweated nervously. “She is amusing—particularly when prodded into yipping,” he finally said.

I blinked. “Huh?”

Killian ignored me. “Rupert will instruct you on weightlifting and running. Celestina will be your weapons teacher.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because if I placed you in a room with a weapon and Rupert, I’m not sure you’d survive.”

Wasn’t that just awesome? Though it seemed I was allowed to be mouthy—as long as I didn’t push it. That was good news. I had a healthy sense of self-preservation, but when you got picked on as much as I had, you also had to develop a sense of determination, or you’d be crushed by it all.

“Locker rooms are through there,” Celestina said, seemingly at random, though she pointed to the two doors at the far side of the room.

“Okay?” I glanced curiously at the door.

Killian held the shirt up against me. “It’s too big. She is the equivalent of a purse dog. This is unsatisfactory.” He narrowed his eyes at his First Knight.

Celestina slightly bowed her head. “I understand, Your Eminence. I will send someone out to procure her clothes in the proper size. Will this do until then?”

I frowned slightly. “Why are you asking him that?”

Killian’s eyes were a fathomless black as he studied me in a clinical way. “I suppose.”

“Excellent.” Celestina swiveled to face me. “You may change in the locker room, Hazel Medeis.”

Killian held out the clothes with the languid grace of someone doing a great favor.

I made myself carefully take them and cross the room, waiting until I got through the locker room entrance before sourly muttering, “Oh, I may change, may I?”

“See? Such fun to bait,” Killian loudly said with satisfaction.

I jumped at the reminder of vampire hearing—which while not as good as a werewolf’s was still obviously much better than mine—and scurried into the women’s locker room as quickly as possible.

I hurriedly changed and threw my stuff in a locker, pausing just long enough to wash my hands and make a face in the mirror.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Killian was right. The clothes were too big on me. The shirt hung down past my butt, and I had to roll up the pant legs. I looked like a kid wearing her parents’ clothes. (Plus I only had my black buckle shoes that were part of the servants’ uniform, so I looked impressively stupid.)

I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes.

I had no idea what I was doing, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about being Killian’s new pet project.

This was the opposite of what I wanted to happen, but I didn’t have any choice but to go with it and pray the vampires didn’t kill me in their ignorance. (Though I was hoping that my seal—which couldn’t easily be broken given that it hadn’t so much as shivered despite what I’d lived through the past week—held out long enough for the vampire Eminence to lose all interest in me.)

And…a small part of me was aware that this random gym thing was keeping me distracted from stewing over my parents’ actions. Which I was actually grateful for. Mason’s betrayal was a shock, but perhaps I could understand why.

But I would never understand why my parents had me sealed.

Ever.

When I came trotting out of the locker room I was surprised and pleased to see Killian had left.

Celestina stood with her hands on her hips, watching Rupert as he unearthed a set of dust-covered dumbbells that looked like they were about three pounds each. (For reference, three benches down, a male vampire was effortlessly using a pair of 50lb dumbbells while he laughed and chatted with his friends.)

Rupert glanced in my direction as I approached the area he had cleared in front of the mirrors. “I don’t think you could look more pathetic if you tried.”

I locked my legs. “I feel like you have unresolved anger issues with wizards,” I said. “Were you ever scorned in love by a human? Maybe had a Twilight fling?”

Rupert’s jaw dropped, then his face turned a lovely shade of red that almost matched his hair. “W-w-what?” he sputtered.

I observed with great interest. I had made the guess to be cheeky because I figured it wasn’t possible, but based on his reaction maybe I hadn’t been far off?

Celestina observed my buckle shoes. “You need appropriate footwear.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t have any here.”