by K. M. Shea
Sam, the Alpha of Pack Whitefrost, scratched his beard, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as he spoke with Lady Vif, the representative of the fae Summer Court.
My parents had been good friends with both of them, but they wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Breathe, I had to remind myself. Breathe! I wanted to scream and demand to know how this could have happened, but I had to stay calm.
I—weak magic and all—was all House Medeis had.
Though my eyes stung with unshed tears and I wanted to crumple, I couldn’t.
I had been the Heir.
Now I was the House Medeis Adept. The leader.
And not only did I have an old, magical home depending on me, but everyone who had been sworn into our family as well.
For them, I wouldn’t break. At least, not on the outside. I couldn’t do anything to stop the pain from tearing my heart from end to end.
That was why I looked out at the werewolf Alphas, the fae nobles, the visiting vampires, and all the other powers that be that had come for the funeral, and I knew the truth.
They were predators, circling me. They were trying to gauge me and see what I’d mean for House Medeis, and how that would impact the supernatural community
Based on their expressions—the vampires’ curled upper lips, the wolfish grins of the werewolves, the smug smiles of the other wizards—it did not look good.
I didn’t blame them for their low opinion of me.
As the last Medeis I had to inherit the House. If I died the House Medeis would change names—and lose some of its respect, power, and members in the process. It would disband and be reborn or, in reality, be re-branded in a new image. If you didn’t entirely separate from the old family line, the House would eventually rebel. Yeah, it sounds like a bunch of elitist crap—and for the most part I still think it is—but a magical House throwing a temper tantrum is never good. So even though I was the weakest wizard in the House, I was now the Adept.
“Do you need a break, Adept?” Great Aunt Marraine asked.
My stomach churned at the title I knew shouldn’t have come to me for decades. “It’s fine.”
Great Aunt Marraine studied me through bottlecap glasses that made her eyes large and owlish. “The House allowed the caterers in—though it was a near thing. All will be ready for the luncheon.”
“Thanks, Great Aunt Marraine.”
“Of course, dear.” She looked past me. Judging by the weight in her gaze, she was studying my parents’ coffins. “They were taken from us too early.”
My throat squeezed, and I could only manage to stare out at the mourners.
“But,” Great Aunt Marraine continued, “you’ll be a fine Adept.”
I couldn’t help the frown that made my forehead wrinkle as I shifted my stare to her. Had she finally cracked? Great Aunt Marraine was old when I was born, but she’d always been spry—and sassy enough to know that an Adept who could barely start a campfire wasn’t much of an Adept at all.
She reached out and smoothed my blond hair away from my face. “The blood of the Medeis wizards flows in your veins, Hazel. You’ll thrive. And when we get back to the House you need to eat. The caterer made your father’s favorite triple chocolate brownies. You ought to have one or a dozen, get some more meat on these bird bones of yours.”
I tried to smile at her, but the thought that my dad and I would never split another brownie was enough to make a pins and needles sensation prickle in my lungs. “I will,” I lied.
“Good.” Aunt Marraine nodded, then waddled away—her unusual gingham dress a spot of bright blue in the sea of black.
I watched her until I noticed Mason drift away from the House Tellier representatives and walk in my direction.
Mason was one of the best wizards in House Medeis, and was an extremely distant relative. I think his great, great, great grandmother had been a Medeis, but it was so far back I couldn’t remember the specifics, and the connection was so diluted the House didn’t consider his blood to be part of my family line. He was in his mid-thirties, about ten years older than me, so I hadn’t hung out with him when we were kids. But I’d always admired his talent for magic.
He offered me a practiced smile and hugged me—which I was not expecting, and was more than a little awkward. His arms were stiff, and I mostly just felt super hot due to his proximity. “You do our House credit, Hazel,” he said.
“Thanks.” I started to grip the fabric of my black skirt when a quick glance down confirmed the material was already crushed and wrinkled. “I’m starting to think this day will never end.”
“It was a terrible accident,” Mason said. “And a great loss for the wizarding community.” He smiled and nodded to a female wizard from House Rothchild dressed in periwinkle blue. Rothchild was one of our allies, but I doubt the House relationship was what had the other wizard smiling.
I was clinically aware Mason was classically good-looking, with a fine smile, broad shoulders, and clean-cut appearance. But given who my friends were, I was immune to it, and instead pondered how someone could smile at a time like this.
The stifling air in the room had me sweating. I had to get away and do something, or I was going to suffocate. “Maybe I should start packing up the pictures,” I muttered as I stared at the easels and tables that displayed printed photos of my parents.
I didn’t mean for Mason to hear, but he did anyway. He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. “You can’t.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You shouldn’t,” he smoothly corrected. “You’re our Adept now. How would it look to everyone else?”
“Like I’m grieving the loss of my parents?” I had to peer up at him, but that didn’t mean much. I’m pretty short, so I have to peer up at practically everyone.
“You’re our Adept,” he repeated. “You need to be more aware of what that means, and what it means to House Medeis.”
This was probably why Mason and I didn’t talk much. He was a super big fan of having a pecking order in the House and observing tradition—neither of which I loved, though I probably should have because it was most likely the only thing that made him support me as Adept.
“You’re over thinking it,” I said, doing my best to sound pleasant rather than sour. “My parents loaded the dishwasher and took trash out just like everyone else in House Medeis. No one is going to judge us if I help take some of the pictures down so I can get away from these coffins.” The last word seemed to hit my gag reflex on the way out of my mouth.
Mason pressed his lips together, but before he could dig in and really complain, my salvation arrived.
“Dear Adept,” Felix said with a voice as balmy as a beach sunset. “You’ve been standing for hours. Why don’t you sit for a bit?”
“Yeah.” Momoko appeared just behind his shoulder and eyed me doubtfully. “You look like you might throw up.”
Together, Felix and Momoko made a striking image.
For starters, Felix personified beauty. No, he wasn’t handsome, but awesomely beautiful. He outshone a lot of vampires and fae lords and ladies with his bright gold hair, unfathomably blue eyes, slender body, and angelic smile that worked almost as well as a fae persuasion spell.
The toddler that sat on his hip and drooled on his crisp black dress shirt didn’t dampen his general aura of beauty, but instead seemed to amplify it.
Momoko, though also gorgeous, was his exact opposite. She had midnight black hair, eyes so dark they appeared black, and generally looked like she enjoyed lurking around graveyards with the amount of black and gray she wore.
Despite her appearance, Momoko was more of an optimist than Felix, and Felix had the personality of a warthog, and spent hours weightlifting every week in a failed attempt to bulk up. But both of them used their appearances to put people off balance, and they wielded their looks with the same finesse they handled their magic.
It worked, even on people who knew them, like Mason.
“Ahh, Fe
lix and Momoko. I wondered where you two had run off.” Mason nodded at the duo, but shifted ever-so-slightly away from them.
Felix smiled, setting the volume of his sparkling looks on full blast. “We were occupying Ivy and some of the other children.” He patted the dozing toddler on the back with the ease of practice.
“Until we saw how terrible Hazel looked,” Momoko bluntly said. “Come on, Adept. You can leave your post for a bit.”
Mason rocked back on his heels. “Perhaps that is a good idea,” he delicately said. “Surely I and the other senior members of House Medeis can be stand ins for the moment.”
“Thanks, Mason.”
“It is my honor, Adept.”
Momoko didn’t wait for any more chit-chat. She circled an arm around my shoulders and towed me away, managing to make it look more like a helpful embrace than bodily corralling me. Even though Momoko was a shade under average height, she was still taller than me. That hadn’t been frustrating as a kid. Nope, definitely not.
“Sorry, Hazel,” Momoko said in a voice much softer than the jaded one she had spoken to Mason with. “We should have come sooner.”
“No, I am Adept now.” I sighed big enough to make my bangs flutter. “I needed to be there to receive everyone. And I’ll have to go back eventually.” I offered the pair a shaky smile. “Though I’m hoping House Medeis will hide me for a few minutes when we move there for the luncheon.” We slipped into the foyer of the funeral parlor and made our escape outside without anyone noticing.
Out in the cool spring air the sweaty heat that clouded around me finally dissipated, and some of the tightness in my chest eased.
Felix peered over his shoulder at the closed doors. “What a bunch of vultures.”
Momoko hugged me tightly then joined our childhood friend in scowling at the parlor doors. “I hope House Medeis eats their shoes if they dare to come over.”
“If it doesn’t, we could throw their shoes in the trash and blame it on the House.” The wind ruffled Felix’s blond hair. “It’s not like anyone could prove the House didn’t do it.”
“I thought we tried that excuse as kids when some of the brattier wizard kids from House Rothchild visited,” I said. “I don’t think it ended well for us.”
“Now you’re the Adept,” Felix pointed out. “Through a horrific circumstance, yes. But that doesn’t mean we can’t use it to our advantage.”
I grinned. “If we didn’t, I’d be disappointed with all three of us.” My smile dropped from my lips as I joined them in looking at the funeral parlor. “Thanks, guys. I didn’t think it was possible for me to laugh today.”
Felix and Momoko leaned in until their shoulders touched mine.
We stayed like that, standing under the stormy gray sky with the wind snapping our hair and clothes, until the doors to the funeral parlor opened.
“There you three are.” Mr. Clark—one of the senior wizards in House Medeis and Felix’s dad, as testified by his soulful blue eyes Felix had inherited—shoved his hands in the pockets of his black trousers and joined us outside. He paused just short of us and bowed his head. “Adept.”
The pins were back in my throat. “Please don’t, Mr. Clark.”
He shook his head. “It’s Ed, now.”
I almost shuddered at the thought. “You’ve been Mr. Clark my whole life.”
“And now you’re the Adept,” he said. “You’ll be calling all of us in House Medeis by our first names.”
I scrubbed my face with my palms. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can,” Mr. Clark said firmly. “House Medeis believes in you.” He held out his arms to take Ivy—his granddaughter and the daughter of Felix’s older brother, Franco, who was also a member of House Medeis. “But you don’t have to do it all at once. This came as a shock and a tragedy to everyone. We can take it slow with you as you adjust, Hazel.”
His voice was so understanding I couldn’t look at him. Instead I stared at Ivy, who blearily stirred as she realized she’d been handed off. When she saw me, she smiled and tugged at her necklace—which I suspect was self-made as it mostly consisted of macaroni and colored yarn. “Hazel!” she said in her cute voice.
I cracked a smile. “Hello, Ivy. Did you have a nice nap?”
Ivy yanked on her necklace, making the metal loop someone—her mother, I suspected—had threaded through the necklace to weigh it down, smack her face. “This is for you!”
I made the necessary oohing noises. “It’s very pretty.”
“Mommy said you’re sad.”
I felt my smile splinter. “Just a bit.”
Mr. Clark stabilized her when she squirmed in his arms, trying to get the necklace off, but the little girl stopped trying when another wizard left the funeral parlor.
“Mr. Bear!” Ivy called out in delight.
The wizard—a large man who was hulking enough to rival a werewolf—smiled. “Hello there, Ivy-girl!”
“Hello, Mr. Baree,” Felix said in his very rare but true tone of respect—probably because the man had all the muscle and bulk Felix wanted.
Mr. Baree grinned at Felix, but like Mr. Clark, he bowed his head to me. “Adept.” He folded his meaty arms across his chest and squinted down at me.
“I can go back inside.” I didn’t bother to attempt a smile, but I inhaled deeply and rolled my shoulders back—which probably did more to convince them anyway.
“We can wait,” Mr. Baree said.
“It’s expected.”
Mr. Baree snorted. “What’s expected can take a swan dive off a steep cliff. This isn’t a sprint, Adept, it’s a lifestyle. You can take your time and settle in. No one is expecting you to be perfect the week your parents pass away.”
Mr. Clark rested his hand on my shoulder. “Roy is right. You’re the last in the Medeis line. House Medeis needs you, which means it’s important that you survive and don’t burn yourself out.”
Mr. Baree nodded. “The House comes first,” he said, repeating the ancient adage I’d heard probably the day I was born. “Which means you’re now our top priority. If some folks are displeased or House Medeis loses a bit of its austerity, it doesn’t matter. You are far more important.”
He meant to be encouraging.
Or supportive.
Or…something.
But those words made my stomach heave.
It felt so wrong! How could you prioritize like that? Sure, it was how wizarding Houses were supposed to operate, but I’d never seen it so brutally displayed for me.
Everyone in House Medeis would prioritize my wellbeing over everything.
“Right, well, I’m fine. So, in we go!” I trundled into motion—if I stood there and listened any more there was a very good chance I was going to throw up. “Are there any more representatives from our close allies I should greet?” I chattered to fill the silence.
“Not any that matter,” Felix sniffed.
“Well said,” Mr. Baree growled.
I slipped back inside the funeral parlor before the others could join me.
My eyes automatically slid to the viewing room where my parents’ coffins were, but I jerked my gaze away and peered around the foyer.
Mason was standing with someone at the viewing room door.
Perfect, I could ask him if I had missed anything.
I slipped through the straggling mourners—with my height I got mistaken as a high school student pretty often, so no one paid any attention as I padded around them, bits and pieces of their conversation reaching me.
“Drake struck down a law that would have allotted space for another wolf Pack in northern Minnesota.”
“You’re surprised?”
“No, just disgusted he can control our Regional Committee of Magic.”
“Vampires rule the Midwest, my friend…”
The rest of the exchange fell out of my hearing range as I edged around the two tall women—werewolves, judging by the gold gleams in their eyes.
Ugh. Politic
s.
Politics I’d soon have to worry about as the House Medeis Adept.
I briefly shut my eyes. My life had become a waking nightmare. Losing my parents had torn a hole in my heart, and being responsible for House Medeis was a different level of horror. But the politics, the leading…how was I going to manage it? Especially once everyone in my House started going back to work.
Adept was considered a full-time position, so I’d spend my days waffling through my new workload. But besides Great Aunt Marraine, everyone else had jobs—or school. (The only reason I still didn’t have college was because I had luckily finished my business degree a semester early, in the winter.)
A part of me felt angry with my parents that they hadn’t better prepared me, but it wasn’t their fault. Heirs receive the first part of their training when they turn twenty, and then receive more responsibilities and training after they reach twenty-five.
I hadn’t ever questioned that policy before…until now.
Another breath and a correction to my posture, and I made myself cross the remaining distance to Mason. I was surprised to find he was talking to a wizard from House Tellier. Medeis and Tellier weren’t enemies, but we weren’t friendly either given Gideon’s tendency to bother me and Momoko’s methods of revenge—which usually involved lightning.
The two spoke in lowered tones, though Mason smiled when he saw me. “Ahh, Adept, we were just talking about you.”
“Yes.” The House Tellier wizard smiled, but it seemed flat and insincere. “When do you think we might observe the grand occasion of your Ascension?”
Ascension was the old and showy ceremony that basically was the handoff of the House to the Heir-turned-Adept. There were a few speeches to give, and I’d get officially sworn in as Adept, but the most important part was that I would make my vows to the House and bind it to me.
The House would then physically change in accordance with my magic and the kind of person I was. It would still keep that Victorian-house-crossed-with-a-chateau feel to it, but it might grow bigger (unlikely) or smaller (most probable), grow some new gardens, or—as had been my dearest childhood dream—sprout a pool.
