Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy Book 1)

by K. M. Shea

  I didn’t want to leave my bed—I ached too much—but the magic in my wizard blood was starting to make me hot and sweaty. I was in the slow and painful process of trying to slide out of bed when my bedroom door abruptly banged open.

  I rocketed upright, then fell on the floor with a pain-infused mewl when my legs gave out. I groaned and tried to push myself off the ground, but that used my arms, eliciting another yelp.

  “What are you doing?” asked a chocolate-smooth voice I was starting to resent.

  I peeled my face off the ground and glared up at Killian, who was lounging in my doorway. “Trying to stand.”

  “No.” Killian gazed around the room as though its appearance insulted him. “In here. What are you doing in here?”

  I used what little ab strength I had to sit up and lean against my bed, then peered down at my clothes with a frown when I realized I had fallen asleep in my borrowed workout clothes. I tried to brush wrinkles from the shirt. “What are you talking about? This is my room.”

  “No, it’s not,” Killian said.

  For a moment, I panicked. I wildly inspected the room, confirming it was the plain but clean room in the servants’ area I’d been assigned the day I arrived. I was in the right place—that was my blood-stained shirt peeking out of the laundry basket I had shoved in the corner.

  “Yes, it is?” I was so confused it came out as a question.

  “Not anymore.”

  “Not my room?” I said, bewildered. After the fae attack, the “surprise” of my magic and my parents’…whatever, the news that this was no longer my room made my eyes sting with tears. I sniffed, aware it was ridiculous to cry over a room, but my life had been one huge upheaval for months, now, and there was something about losing my room that made me want to burst into tears. “Then where will I sleep?” I asked, my voice getting extra squeaky.

  “You were supposed to get a new room last night.” Killian’s voice didn’t lose its silky quality, but he spoke pretty quickly. “Apparently Rupert failed to inform you.”

  This made me feel infinitely better—not because I actually cared if this was another petty insult from Rupert, but because the dark quality to Killian’s voice said he wasn’t pleased, and since waking up I had decided that anytime Rupert was in trouble it was a good time for me.

  I pressed my palms against my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to shoulder off my wild emotions.

  “Celestina has been looking for you for at least an hour as your training was already supposed to have started by now,” Killian added.

  I ran my hand through my blond hair, trying to detangle the worst of my bed-head snarls as I peered at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s noon.”

  “Your powers of observation astound me.”

  I squinted at him. “You’re up. Why are you up?”

  Killian quirked an eyebrow up. “Vampires are capable of operating in daylight hours.”

  “Yeah. Except they don’t usually.”

  “I expect better from my Family and myself.” He abruptly swung out of my room and walked off. “Medeis, come!” He snapped his fingers as if calling a dog.

  I wobbled after him, finding it an unspeakably painful process given his long strides and my pins-and-needles legs. “Where are we going?”

  “To deliver you to Celestina, and remind her to show you to your new room.” Killian left the servants’ quarters, entering the more ornate part of the hall, and to my horror started up the first marble staircase he found.

  “My new room isn’t in the servants’ quarters?” I gripped the slippery banister for balance, but this made my biceps burn with pain—which ignited a new dislike of Rupert. (I hoped I had the opportunity to bleed around him. The scent of my blood would make him gag!)

  Killian reached the top stair and scoffed down at me. “No. We’re going to make you sleep outside in the kennels with the dogs. I thought you’d make a charming addition to the pack.”

  I paused one step down from him. “You have dogs?”

  “Their presence irritates the local werewolves.”

  Killian led me in the most meandering, winding path possible to take me up to the top floor, where most of the vampires stayed.

  He stopped in the middle of the hallway then dug out a smartphone from his black suitcoat, pressing a speed-dial number. “Celestina,” he said when the other end picked up. “I found her…No—she was in the servants’ quarters, like an abandoned puppy…Yes.”

  He turned around to study me, the red of his eyes more visible in the daylight—even though the window shades were, for the most part, down in the whole house. “I’ve changed my mind for her training today. Get her a sword, then take her for a run.” He hung up and glanced at the screen of his phone.

  The edges of his lips curled down so slightly it was almost imperceivable, then he glanced at me. “Stay here,” he said. “Right here—until Celestina comes for you.”

  He seemed to be waiting for a response, so I nodded as I tried to discreetly massage my on-fire thighs. “Okay.”

  Killian blew past me and headed back the way we came. A few seconds after he disappeared from sight Celestina casually jogged—as if it were an easy thing to do in high heels—up the hallway.

  “Good afternoon, Hazel. This way—I’ll give you a tour before we pick out your sword.” She offered me a smile, then gestured down the hallway.

  “Killian was serious about me getting a sword?” I asked.

  “A gun is more efficient, but Killian likes all members of the Drake Family to excel in ranged and close-quarters combat,” Celestina said. “Though I believe he has a deeper reason for teaching you swordplay.”

  “Like what?”

  Celestina held up a finger. “Hold that thought—here is your new room.” She tapped the paper label that read “The Wizard” in fancy calligraphy. “You’ll have to wait until after our run to inspect it—we’re already late the way it is. You can come back and change into proper clothes when we finish.”

  “That sounds marvelous.” I stared longingly at the door as I thought of showering—I had been too exhausted last night to do more than collapse in bed.

  “Sorry—sword and a run first. The Eminence’s orders.” Celestina winked at me, then strode off down the hallway again.

  Now that I knew what I was looking for, I noticed the nametags.

  Sigmund, Julianne, Gavino, Manjeet, Katrina, Nikos—beautiful and fancy names that tasted like history were emblazoned on every door. Some were written on fancy paper in calligraphy like mine, others were carved into lacquered nameplates.

  When Celestina stopped outside a door, I eagerly checked the nameplate—which was one of the lacquered ones.

  “Josh”.

  I blinked and pointed to the nameplate. “Josh?”

  “Yes.”

  What kind of name was that for a vampire? Was she serious? I shifted my weight on my feet, trying to find a comfortable way to stand. (Spoiler: I couldn’t.) “Is he new or something?”

  Celestina thoughtfully tapped her cheek. “No. Rather, I believe he is older than I am.”

  “And his name is Josh?”

  “He’s very strong,” Celestina said.

  “In other words, his eccentricities are tolerated because he’s strong enough to make his power be known. Got it.”

  Celestina laughed. “You are likely right—though I’ve never heard anyone phrase it so succinctly. I think you’ll get along with Josh.” She opened the door and walked in without announcing herself. “Come in,” she called when I lingered in the hallway. “We have to pick out your sword.”

  “Is it okay to just barge in without his permission?”

  “Given our task, of course.”

  “Is he even awake?” I reluctantly poked my head inside Josh’s room.

  The walls were packed with weapons. There wasn’t a bare patch of wall space—something sharp or dangerous was on every square inch. Crossbows, recurve bows, and quivers were all neatly bolted to
the far wall—it seemed like they fit around the wall with the windows the easiest. (The shades to the window were, in fact, pinned to the wall with arrows.) Firearms—like rifles, pistols, and handguns—were artfully arranged together, sharing a space on the long wall with a variety of spears, polearms and what I recognized as sai used by some martial artists. Finally, the other long wall held a collection of swords and daggers—katanas, broadswords, rapiers, dirks, and tons in styles that I didn’t recognize. It seemed the swords were his main passion—that collection was clearly the largest.

  The furniture was pretty minimal: black leather couches, a poster bed with black-out curtains that hung from its rails, and a bookshelf. It took me a few moments to realize the box that served as his nightstand was actually an ammo box, and suddenly I understood with great clarity why no one messed with Josh.

  “Over here, Hazel.” Celestina clasped her hands behind her back as she studied the sword collection. “We need to pick a sword that will be appropriate for your height—which might be a bit of a challenge given that you’re petite.”

  “You could give me a large dagger.” I stared at the wall with admiration—there was something beautiful about the polished swords.

  “No, you need an actual sword,” Celestina said. “It will provide you with extra reach, and range for your magic.”

  I blinked, the spell the beautiful weapons had cast on me broken by my spirit of self-preservation. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, that’s right, I never explained. You wizards usually use raw magic, right?”

  “We only use raw magic. It’s our only power.”

  “Yes, but it is possible to channel it.” Celestina selected a heavily ornamented broadsword off the wall, but held it as if it was as light as a feather. “Which means you can channel your magic up the length of the blade. It gives you a weapon to deal with anyone near, but it also allows for more finesse and control of your powers.”

  I rubbed the back of my head as I eyed the sword she held. “I think I learned something like that in my wizard lessons. But wizards haven’t fought like that in ages, and it wasn’t ever exactly common.”

  “It requires mastery of magic and your weapon, so I imagine most people wouldn’t bother,” Celestina said. “Particularly given wizards in general are lazy and don’t tend to strive for their full potential.”

  “We don’t all have the same potential,” I pointed out. “We’re limited by the amount of magic we can channel.”

  “Not quite the way you think.” Celestina put the sword back on the wall. “But you aren’t alone in your complacence. Most supernaturals rely on natural talent and don’t seek to improve themselves.”

  Thinking of the expensive weight room in the basement, I guessed, “But not the Drake Family.”

  “Not the Drake Family,” she agreed. “We strive to overcome our weaknesses and strengthen ourselves.”

  Huh. Suddenly things were making a lot more sense—why Killian got his vampires out of bed during the day, why they had the training sessions, and why his Family was so feared. She was right, to an extent. Magical society isn’t super big on perfection. In all honesty we’re just struggling to hang on as the world changes and magic continues to die out. But apparently Killian wasn’t going to take that threat at face value.

  This epiphany suddenly made me about a thousand times more nervous about what he had planned for me.

  Celestina frowned as she thoughtfully pulled a rapier from its stand.

  “Not that one.”

  Chapter Ten

  Hazel

  Celestina and I turned around to see a vampire standing in the doorway.

  Black haired with a vampire’s signature red eyes and pale skin, the new vampire also wore what was apparently the Drake Family standard uniform of a black suit and tie…but the sword strapped to his belt was likely a personal addition. There was something about him…He possessed that deadly air that vampires have—the liquid grace that screams predator. But he didn’t hold himself the same way as his fellow vampires. He was shorter for a vampire, and his shoulders were slightly hunched, and he seemed tired, for lack of a better word.

  “Josh—perfect, I could use your expertise in choosing Hazel a sword,” Celestina said.

  The vampire, Josh, tilted his head. “Ahh, yes. Selecting a weapon of destruction that feeds on the lifeblood of its enemies and sings the sweet promise of death is a careful process—though a futile one given the fragile existence we eke out on this dying planet.”

  My forehead wrinkled as I tried to sort through the vampire’s flowery monologue. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a vampire talking…death poetry. I thought that was limited to especially philosophical humans.

  Celestina merely smiled at him, which meant this was probably another one of his eccentricities.

  A few moments passed, then Josh shrugged. “With her lack of training, she’d have an easier time with a crossbow.”

  “Killian wants her to have a sword. For her magic.”

  He crossed the room, intently staring at me, then gazed at the weapons on his wall. “In that case, a chisa katana would be ideal for her—lightweight and shorter in length.” He brushed a few swords, before choosing a Japanese sword with a black hilt wrap. “This one,” he said, almost reverently. “With an original handguard from the Tokugawa era. The hilt is made of wood wrapped in ray skin and braided with silk rope.”

  Josh selected a scabbard and sheathed the katana, then offered the weapon to me with a slight bow. “I trust you will take great care of it.”

  I started to reach for the sword, until I realized what this meant. “Wait, isn’t this from your personal collection? Are you sure you want to lend it to me?”

  Josh shrugged. “It is a gift—unless it is not the right sword for you. Then I will take it back and give you another.”

  “But…it’s yours,” I dumbly said. “Isn’t there a practice one I can use?” I asked Celestina.

  The beautiful vampire shook her head. “I’m afraid not—we weight our weapons. You wouldn’t be able to use them. Besides, Josh doesn’t mind.”

  “Indeed,” Josh piped in. “It will provide me an excuse to buy a new sword to replace the bare spot on the wall.” He smiled in satisfaction—almost passing for cheerful—then practically pushed the sword at me. “It’s yours now.”

  “Thank you.” Reluctantly, I took the sword, wincing when my fingers left smudgy prints on the lacquered black scabbard.

  “Of course. You will require ties which will allow you to secure the scabbard to your clothes, but what you wear now is too pitiful to even attempt to use.” Josh eyed my clothes with clear condescension.

  “I sent out for proper attire last night,” Celestina said. “Her clothes are in her room if you want to reference her size, but first we have to go for a run.”

  Josh nodded. “Very well. I will do so.”

  The dark-haired vampire left his bedroom, leaving Celestina and me behind.

  “Does he seriously get to check out my room before I do?” I asked.

  Celestina laughed. “You will be afforded privacy should you need it, but you will find the Drake Family does not hide anything from each other.”

  Why? Because they were actually close, or because Killian was too paranoid of a takeover to let them be?

  “Come, we will go outside for your run.” Celestina glided into the hallway, waiting only long enough for me to scramble through the door after her.

  “We’re running outside? Can you do that?”

  “I will be carrying a parasol for sun protection, and we will be moving at a slower pace given your human limitations,” Celestina acknowledged. “However, it is good for me to be out and under the sun—it gives me the opportunity to work on my stamina and practice operating in a weakened state. We commonly practice under the noon sun.” She led the way back to a spiral staircase that, if memory served me right, went all the way down to the first floor.

  “Wow. So, Killian has turned
the Drake Family into a bunch of Spartans, huh?” When I stepped down the first stair, my legs almost gave out from the stabbing pain in my thighs. I thought going up the stairs was bad. Unbelievably, coming down was so, so much worse.

  “Perhaps relatively speaking,” Celestina said. “Rather, it is that we are living to our full potential.”

  I kinda doubted the vampire I had seen in the Victorian outfit at the vampire meeting I’d busted into would see running outside as “living to her full potential.” Heck—I don’t think any of the vampires at the meeting believed that. But this was probably how Killian had become Eminent of the Midwest and had the Regional Committee of Magic in a choke hold. (Killian Drake was terrifying by himself. But knowing he had a houseful of ripped, militant-esque vampires who trained outside in the sun for funsies made him into a person you would never cross.)

  Somehow I managed to hobble down the stairs and outside, all while carrying my new sword—though it did take me a while.

  Celestina, thankfully, didn’t seem to mind. It gave her time to grab an umbrella (black, shocker) from an umbrella stand, and check in with a few vampires before escorting me outside.

  The sky was a drab and cloudy gray, and there was a breeze that had a bit of a chill to it that made me smile. (Apparently spring wasn’t leaving without putting up a fight—a good thing if Celestina intended to make me run a lot, or I’d turn into a sweaty pig in minutes when I combined my magically induced high body temperature with the warm air and a brisk workout.)

  Celestina led me to a running path that was covered with woodchips, nodding to the female vampire she had given the clothing orders to last night. “Good day, Julianne.”

  Julianne smiled and twirled her own umbrella. “Hello Celestina—taking the wizard for a run?”

  “Yes. Thank you for picking up her clothes.”

  “Of course—whatever the Eminence wants!” The vampire—a pretty blond—glanced at me with a small amount of curiosity before she smiled again at Celestina. “Oh—Sigmund left his post about fifteen minutes ago—he wanted to get a fresh blood pack since we got a delivery about an hour ago. And Ling is holding a firearm practice right now which those of us who aren’t on duty are all attending.”