Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy #1)(54)

She was a regular human—employed by supernaturals, not even a member of it.

And now she was dead.

It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t done anything wrong. As a human, she shouldn’t have been pulled into whatever stupid feud had egged the murderer on. None of it involved her.

My throat ached with the tears I would have shed if I hadn’t cried myself dry already. I was vaguely aware of the vampires that rushed up and down the hallway as they searched the house for her killer, and I slowly curled my hands into fists.

Celestina slipped out of the room—running an errand for Killian.

I licked my lips. “Celestina.”

She paused just in front of me. “Yes?”

“Will the Regional Committee of Magic really not help when innocent humans are killed?” I asked.

Celestina didn’t even have to think about it. “This is not the first human victim we’ve had, and they haven’t been inspired to help yet. They are happy to have something bother the Eminence.”

I glanced back at the deceased blood donor.

Celestina patted my shoulder, then continued on her way.

I barely noticed; I was etching the blood donor’s face into my mind.

I was weak and subject to Killian’s whims, but the blood donor’s death had triggered something in me. I wasn’t going to sit by and let this sicko get away with this. Feeble as I was, maybe there was something I could do to help.

Because this was wrong. And it had to stop.





I lingered in the hallway for about an hour, hoping I would naturally get swept up into the unavoidable vampire meeting the Drake Family would hold to discuss the blood donor’s murder, but it never happened.

I did find out her name—Michelle Farrow—and I wasn’t going to forget it. Ever.

I also found out her suspected cause of death was strangulation or suffocation—no stab wounds, bite marks, or magical spells had ended her life.

No other information was forthcoming, and eventually it got too late. When I found myself fighting to keep my eyes open, I knew I had to call it a night.

But I set my alarm with the plan to get up early and ask Celestina what the vampires had discussed.

Unfortunately, Celestina was out when I woke up. So was Josh.

This meant there was only one vampire I felt comfortable approaching—though I did consider asking even Rupert before I dragged myself to his office.

It was kind of dangerous. I hadn’t purposely sought him out ever before—and there was a faint chance he may punish me for daring to.

But there was no way I was going to give up so easily. This was for Michelle, for everyone who had come before her, and the desire to keep anyone from coming after her.

I took a deep breath, rolled my shoulders back, and knocked on the door of Killian’s office.

“What is it, Wizard?” Killian asked through the door.

I bolstered my courage and poked my head in. “Hey.” I studied him—and most importantly his eyebrows—trying to get a handle on his mood.

He was seated behind his desk, wearing a suit like always. It was possible he’d been awake the whole night and hadn’t yet slept, but I couldn’t tell. His face didn’t show any extra signs of concern or frustration.

But he also hadn’t started smirking or making fun of me the moment I entered either, which might mean he really didn’t like me seeking him out after all, or that the murderer situation had killed off his already twisted sense of humor.

He raised an eyebrow at me—not at the angle that meant he was amused but the one reserved for impatience—and stared.

I tugged on the sleeves of my suit. “Did you find out anything more about the murderer?”

“Why?”

I tried to come up with a believable explanation before giving up—he’d never believe me anyway. “Because I want to know.”

Killian leaned back in his chair and studied me intently enough to make me shift my weight from one foot to the other and back again.

“It’s a vampire matter. Do you really wish to be involved?”

“It’s not a vampire matter—whoever is doing this killed humans. That means it involves all of us.”

More staring ensued. It felt like somehow Killian was trying to peer into my soul.

“Strictly speaking, there are no new leads,” he abruptly said. “We found no signs of forced entry; no intruders were detected. The murderer is using fae spells—there’s no way they could move undetected through the house and not be caught. But it seems that for the same reason the murderer themselves cannot be fae. The Drake lands are warded against most spells. A fae couldn’t cross the property line without raising the alarm.”

“It’s likely what you thought: someone who has fae support?” I guessed.

A sharp nod. “But we have no physical evidence, and no leads to follow. Though we have concluded that Drake Hall has been compromised, or this wouldn’t happen—which is a worst-case scenario because if it is compromised it might be a fae after all.”

I absently flicked my ponytail over my shoulder. “Nah, can’t be.”

A muscle twitched in Killian’s cheek. “I didn’t know you had become a master of home security.” His voice was practically a purr, and a chill ran down my spine at the show of his temper.