Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy #1)(60)

Fae magic has a really strong floral scent that always makes me feel like I’m drinking bathwater that’s been liberally dosed with roses and bubble bath. It was subtle—which meant it wasn’t a fighting spell, but probably something subtle like persuasion magic.

“You really think you can hide it after all of this?” Killian asked.

“You imply we would break the laws of the supernaturals? With what proof?” Ira said. “You dishonor the Night Court!”

I glanced back at the fae who were still seated at the table where the Paragon had abandoned them. They were watching, but the floral feeling wasn’t coming from them. Which meant it was the Paragon—unlikely—or Ira. I let my senses stretch toward the night fae, and sure enough I felt a concentration of floral scent. He had a hand planted on his chest, but I’d bet anything a magic-embedded medallion was under his palm, hidden by his clothes.

“He’s using magic,” I announced.

Everyone in the restaurant was still, and I slowly raised my eyes so I could meet Ira’s gaze. “Forgot I was here, did you?” I smiled—it was brittle, but my meaning was clear. “That’s fine, though. I’m with the Eminence all the time now, so I’m sure you’ll remember in the future.”

My threat—though completely unfounded—was clear: a wizard was throwing her lot in with Killian Drake, which would substantially change things as long as I wandered around alive.

Ira’s expression turned icy. Rather than explode with anger, he seemed to draw all his emotions in so he resembled a stone, but there was something to his eyes—a promise of pain and blood.

I tried to keep my expression pleasant and hoped he couldn’t tell how nervous I was, but between the tension of the room and my natural body temperature I was starting to sweat.

Ira—as unreadable as darkness—opened his mouth.

“Ira, boy, you’ve been bested by the wizard.” The Paragon smacked the night fae on the back so hard, Ira stumbled. “Now drop that neat little persuasion spell you have, or club management will get cross with us. Come on.” He started to shuffle away, then glanced back at Killian and me. “I’d thank you in the future if you didn’t purposely bait my constituents,” he dryly said.

Killian shrugged. “They have to learn to leave my wizard alone.”

The Paragon made a “hmm” of disbelief, but swept off, a glowering Ira reluctantly following him. Another fae dressed in similarly colored robes scurried up to Ira. They exchanged whispers before the other fae—also most likely of the Night Court—fluttered off, disappearing through the elevator doors.

Noise slowly returned to the club—the quiet clink of dishes, the faint hush of conversation, and the rattling of ice as a bartender mixed drinks at his station.

I let out a deep breath and sagged slightly. We’d made it.

Still holding my hand, Killian stood. With the same confident elegance he did everything, he slid his free hand between my shoulder blades and pulled me flat against his chest. He released my hand only so he could brush my cheek with a gentleness that really made me regret opening my big mouth in the elevator.

“Is this really necessary?” I hissed into his chest.

“After the show you just put on? Yes. Be thankful, I could have pulled you into my lap.” His breath tickled my ear as he bent over me so he could whisper. “But I thought you might club me with that purse of yours if I did.”

I released a strangled laugh, relaxing a little more at the thought that I could actually hit him. My heart slowed to a regular tempo, and I was grateful for the coolness Killian radiated—doing more to cool me off than the restaurant’s AC.

“You did well.” Another brush of my cheek, and Killian released me. He sat back down in his chair as if all of this had been the most natural thing in the world, leaving me to totter back to my seat.

I cleared my throat as I sat down. “Well. That was…” I struggled to find the right word.

“Invigorating?” Killian suggested.

“Not at all what I was thinking, but sure. What now?”

Killian looked downright smug as he picked up his glass of blood and swirled it, his fangs flashing. “Look pretty and enjoy your food, Wizard. That’s all you need to do, now.”





The order was easier said than done.

The food was fantastic, of course—probably the best I’d eaten in my life. But eating while Ira scowled at me the whole night wasn’t excessively fun. The dessert course got my mind off of everything, though. (They gave me a salted caramel chocolate tart, fruit meringue, and cafe au lait gelato, so it would have been pretty hard not to love it.)

After the meal I was overall pretty content, and by the time we left, I was happily zig-zagging back and forth, swinging my clutch as I hopped off the elevator.

“Excuse me, Your Eminence, a moment of your time?” One of the waitstaff had rushed down what looked like a set of emergency fire stairs, catching Killian just outside the elevator.

Killian slid his hands into his slacks. “Yes?”

“Club Luminary offers our sincerest apologies for this evening…”

Not sensing any magic, and swiftly losing interest, I continued ahead through the dirty warehouse, making a straight line for the door that opened out onto the street where our SUV waited.