by K. M. Shea
“It’s a bigger deal than that,” I said. “The signet ring helps establish an Adept’s initial connection to the House. You need it for the ceremony that officially ties you to the House, and it’s necessary to wear for at least the first five to ten years, until you have a good enough connection with the House that it’s no longer needed.”
My iced coffee was sweating all over the table, so I absently wiped it up with a napkin. “They’re made with really old magic, too. I don’t actually know if there’s anyone around who can make them. Mom used to say they were forged by the elves…and they’re all gone now.”
Josh set his latte down. “It’s been hypothesized that their death is what kicked off the steady downward spiral of magic and it’s slow—but inevitable—death. Perhaps this is another example of why the loss of the elves hit our world so badly.”
Celestina tapped the lid of her coffee drink with a manicured nail. “Perhaps, but this is the reality we live in. We will have to learn to cope with our situation.”
“Perhaps this is the wizards’ attempt at coping,” I said. “House inheritance should never be taken public, unless the Adept and Heir die and a new family line has to be declared, but they went ahead and did it anyway. Killian said they can’t back down since no one tried to help me when Mason first came after me, and given that we wizards usually are a little more passive, I can see that. And I think they chose to back Mason because they didn’t want an Adept with so little power in place.”
“Why do you believe that?” Josh asked.
“The ranking of House Medeis jumped up.” I pursed my lips as I tried to remember exactly what Mason’s ID card had shown. “I think the wizards are seeing what has happened and realizing we will become irrelevant in a few generations. In day to day life, a local House with a weak Adept isn’t a big deal. If we look at the long-lasting effects, however, there could be repercussions in my family line, it would maybe permanently weaken House Medeis unless I married someone with enough magic power to counter-act what we thought was my lack of magical ability.”
“Naturally, the best way to face this fear is to throw a coup and deal in underhanded politics,” Celestina grumbled.
I nodded. “No matter their motivation, they were wrong. Most obvious is the fact that Mason is Adept.”
Josh glanced curiously at me. “Are you talking about the blatant stupidity in ignoring that you are still alive, or…?”
“Nah—though that is a big deal too. No, I mean that Mason was made Adept when the Wizard Council hasn’t met since the last monthly meeting when they told me to get re-registered. That means they approved Mason out of session.”
Celestina snapped. “I wonder if all the wizards sitting on the council are even aware. It’s possible Mason could have privately approached some of them, and skipped over the Adepts who supported your case.”
“Probably. That’s totally illegal, but given that the council didn’t care I was being hunted like an animal and my allies couldn’t be bothered to keep their word, it’s not out of character.” I narrowed my eyes. “So much bloodshed and manipulation…all because my parents chose to block me from my real abilities.”
A sour taste flooded my mouth—one that even the bitterness of my iced coffee couldn’t wash away.
One day I could hopefully think of my parents and feel peace. But now, while I was still trying to deal with the aftermath of what their manipulations had done, it wasn’t coming.
Celestina gave me a side hug, then stood up and took my trash. “We should probably head out soon.”
Josh checked his cellphone. “Yes. I assume His Eminence will rise, soon. I imagine he will want us back by the time he finishes his morning reports.”
Celestina walked the trash to the trash can, and I took the last few noisy sips of my coffee as Josh slid out of the booth.
“Sorry, finished.” I slid along the bench seat, but there was a soft pop, and something spattered by my head.
In an instant Celestina was by my side, gun out, and Josh had pulled out a handful of throwing knives that he layered between his fingers.
People screamed, and Celestina shoved me under the table. “Josh.”
“I smell it.” I saw Josh’s dress shoes disappear as he ran off.
“Celestina?” I asked, huddled under the table. “What happened?”
“Someone shot at you.”
I froze under the table, my throat squeezing painfully. “What?”
“It appears to be a paint ball. Do you detect any magic?”
“No, none.” Just in case I opened myself up to magic, letting it swim through my blood. “I can’t sense anyone using any kind of spell or enchantment.”
Celestina paced back and forth in front of me. Even from my low vantage point, I could see her pull her cellphone out of her pocket. “Bring the car around, there’s been an incident—come to the food court,” she barked.
I shifted under the table, breathing a little easier with magic surrounding me.
A paint ball? Why would someone shoot at me with a paint ball? Was Mason trying to make a point? If so he was a total idiot to attack me with Killian’s First and Second Knights sitting with me.
“Hazel?” Celestina slowly turned in a circle. “We’re going to move. I want your shield up at all times. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then let’s go.”
I scrambled out from under the table, my blue shield flickering to life at my back.
It was much steadier and more stable—I’d been practicing with it and area attacks since fighting Rupert—so I moved confidently with it at my back, and I stretched it a bit to cover Celestina as well.
Celestina led the way outside. The set of her mouth was a grim slant, and she almost wrenched one of the exit doors off its hinges with her excessive vampire strength.
A Drake car was idling just outside.
I reached it first as Celestina swung around to watch our backs. I climbed in, my heart racing as Celestina jumped in after me and slammed the door shut.
“Go!” she barked.
The car tires squealed, and I was thrown back against my seat when it shot forward.
I opened my mouth, intending to start a rant, but I noticed Celestina’s pinched expression.
She didn’t know what was going on either. That meant she probably didn’t know if it was Mason, or the Night Court, and she obviously hadn’t sensed them or she would have blocked the paint ball.
And that, more than the actual experience, terrified me.
When we arrived back at Drake Hall, things were in an uproar. Like, Killian must have called in the rest of the Drake Family because vampires I had never seen before walked the hallways with flinty expressions.
Training was still canceled—we didn’t even have the regular dinner that night—so I spent most of my time hanging around the kitchen talking to the staff I knew and attempting to pry news from any familiar vampires who passed through.
Apparently—from the little pieces of news I managed to get—the shooter was a Night Court fae who had been caught, but then killed himself with a magic ring before he could be questioned.
The identity of the paint ball shooter didn’t shock anyone, but the entire situation made all the vampires jumpy, and I can’t say I liked it much more. I mean…why would you try to shoot me with a paint ball?
The vampires ran a sample of the paint ball through a lab, and it was exactly that—paint. Queen Nyte sent one of her fae in—and he died—just to shoot me with a paint ball?
Killian summoned me to his office with a text around noon the following day. For a vampire that was an almost ungodly hour to rise, but I didn’t think anything about it as I impatiently yanked the door open, until I saw him.
Between the crumpled blood pouches on his desk, his lack of his black suitcoat and perfect tie, and the way his skin seemed extra pale, I was almost positive Killian hadn’t slept since the paint ball incident—maybe not even since before th
e Summer’s End Ball.
I hesitated in the doorway. “Killian, are you okay?”
Killian glanced at me, and the blackness of his eyes felt sharp like a sword. “Come in.”
I slipped inside and noticed Josh standing just inside the door. The weapon-loving vampire’s eyes were fixated on some point across the room, and he didn’t blink when I passed in front of him.
Was he sleeping while standing upright or something?
I approached Killian’s desk, my eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I heard about the confirmed attacker—and his…demise,” I said.
Killian shrugged and stared at what looked like a fancy, handwritten letter based on the creamy color and thickness of the paper.
“Did Queen Nyte send you a nastygram about that?” I asked.
Killian stood so fast he knocked his chair back. “What?”
“I asked if Queen Nyte sent you a nastygram—a letter of complaint,” I carefully said.
It was unlike Killian to not know modern slang—even if he didn’t use it. But it was probably just another sign of how tired he was.
The door clicked, and I twisted around just long enough to see that it was Celestina before Killian walked around his desk, redrawing my attention.
He stopped just short of invading my space. When he raised his hands and reached in my direction I thought he meant to drape them over my shoulders or something, but instead he folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes.
I kind of wanted to smack him. The last time I saw him we’d kissed, and now he was acting like a caged animal. “Killian, what is it?”
Killian glanced at the letter he’d left facedown on his desk, then he returned his eyes to mine. “Leave.”
I let out a nasally sigh. “Did you seriously call me all the way to your office just to send me right back out?”
“No.” Killian smirked—the one he used when closing a trap on someone. “I called you here to banish you from Drake Hall.”
Chapter Eighteen
Hazel
I blinked as I tried to process what he had said. “Did you fall on your head after I left the ball yesterday?”
“We’re finished.” Killian’s smirk had an edge of smugness to it. “You are no longer allowed in Drake Hall, nor are you to be treated like a member of the Drake Family. You will leave the premise immediately.” His voice was the dangerously-charming voice I’d heard him use when meeting politicians and people he didn’t like—it held more raw vampire power than usual.
What is he trying to do?
I pressed my lips together. “Killian, knock it off, and tell me what’s going on. After everything I’ve gone through, your big-bad-vampire routine isn’t frightening.” Much.
Killian made an amused noise at the back of his throat. “Fine, then maybe you’ll understand this: you are no longer worth the investment.”
That caught my attention.
Killian, with his manipulations and conniving plots, was a lot more likely to pull back if he judged that the bottom line wasn’t worth it. “What do you mean?” I cautiously asked. “I’ve fought my way to your top five vampires.”
Killian leaned against his desk, his dark eyes glittering. “You have plenty of fighting power, but I don’t need more of that. What I wanted was a way in with the wizards. Celestina told me of your conversation with Mason, which means I know you are no longer Adept of House Medeis.”
I curled my hands into fists as I tried to sort through his words. Was this some kind of joke? Or was he serious?
“I considered keeping you on regardless,” he continued. “But the Elite’s reaction made me realize just how useless an endeavor that would be. No one would trust you because of your association with the Drake Family.”
A bitter taste filled my mouth. “I don’t believe you—or any of this. I don’t get what you’re trying to accomplish right now, Killian, so just tell me what’s really going on.”
I thought a muscle jumped around Killian’s left eye, but it was so fast I couldn’t be certain. He stared at me for several long moments, his expression unreadable, then turned his back to me. He sauntered back to his desk chair and plopped down, arranging himself in a lounging position that showed off his vampire grace, then stared at me with cold, hard eyes.
“You certainly show off the wizard trait of stupidity to its fullest potential. Dissatisfied with the explanation? Fine. Not only are you no good to me since your chances of regaining your House have fallen, you are no longer trusted among your own. Therefore, you are useless to me. Admittedly, it was my mistake in backing you so strongly, but what’s done is done. I have no mercy for those I can’t use, so I am removing my offer of protection and ending our contract.”
That felt too possible to write off. I bit my tongue as I tried to hold in the hot burst of emotion that threatened to tear me in half. Rage and hurt seesawed back and forth, each stabbing Killian’s words a little deeper into my heart.
“If this was your big plan, why are you telling me?” I fought to keep my voice strong and calm rather than let my anger or the throb of pain give me away.
Killian stared at me his face expressionless. “Because I know there’s no possible way you can take back House Medeis by yourself. And once it’s known I no longer back you, your fellow wizards will lose all interest in you. You are without friends and family, now. There is no place for you to go, so it doesn’t matter what I tell you.”
Oh, now that was a lie. I swung around, opening my mouth to tell Celestina to back me up.
That was when I realized a backpack hung from her grip. The red of her eyes was the same cold red of glittering rubies—beautiful, but distant. She wasn’t smiling, wasn’t frowning, instead she stared at me as if I were a task she had to complete.
I turned to Josh, but he was just as expressionless and just as cold.
The silence of the office was so suffocating I could hear myself breathe as I slowly turned back to face Killian.
“Celestina has gathered your belongings. Take them and leave, now,” he said.
I stared at him, studying the set of his eyebrows, trying to gauge the blackness of his eyes.
I still didn’t believe it.
Not because I was stupidly optimistic, but because I was a trained wizard. No matter what original purpose Killian had for me, at worst I could still work for him sensing fae magic—something no one except a wizard could do, and something that would be extremely helpful given his ongoing feud with Queen Nyte.
But something had happened. Killian was turning on me out of a lack of trust. He obviously wasn’t willing to tell me everything or ask for help. I didn’t know why he wanted to run me out of Drake Hall, but what hurt me most—what caused the bitter taste in my mouth and the squeezing of my chest—was that after everything I’d done with him, and with the Drake Family, he still didn’t trust me. They didn’t trust me.
It felt stupid that their trust was so important, but it was.
I glanced at Celestina and Josh again—who were still expressionless.
Obviously, I had overestimated our closeness. I’d forgotten that as Killian’s underlings, we couldn’t ever really be friends. Not the way it was with Momoko and Felix. They would serve Killian until every bit of blood ran from their body, and they didn’t care if they had to sacrifice me to do what he wanted.
I’m such an idiot.
“Fine,” I said. I took the backpack from Celestina and started to turn to the door.
Killian scoffed. “Congratulations on finally accepting the obvious.”
“No.” I swung back around and pointed a finger at him. “It’s too late. You can’t hide it from me when you are masking yourself and your actions. I know you. You’re up to something, and you don’t want me around anymore, fine. Whatever. This is a clear wakeup call of exactly how much you trust and value me, and I’m not going to beg to stay where I’m not wanted.”
Killian blinked. It wasn’t a crack in his mask, but I was pretty sure it m
eant I’d caught him off-guard.
I waved my hand. “Good luck with whatever this thing is. I’m sure you’ll be very happy with the result.” I made for the door—intending to get out of the room before Killian could see me crack.
“I hope I never see you again,” he said.
I paused in the doorway, and turned just enough so Killian could see my smile. “Then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. Well wishes with your ruling the Midwest vampires. It’s obviously what you care about most.”
I wanted to slam the door, but Celestina was right behind me, so that was a big nope.
I clutched my backpack. I didn’t know what it was filled with—I didn’t even have shoes when I arrived at Drake Hall—but it very obviously didn’t have the one thing I wanted most: my katana. The fact they hadn’t given it to me just showed how shallow our supposed friendship really was.
I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid to think I mattered to them the way a close friend would.
I was so angry, so hurt I could barely see straight as I stormed through Drake Hall. I only vaguely noticed that the few vampires I saw were jogging up and down the hallway.
When I shoved open the front doors, there was a huge motorcade outside—bigger than any of the processions I’d seen accompany Killian even when going to Regional Committee of Magic meetings.
Oh yeah, Killian was up to something all right.
“So where are you taking me?” I asked Celestina with clinical interest.
“Off Drake property.” Celestina gestured for me to walk past all the cars.
I stepped off the sidewalk and onto the driveway, but paused. “Wait, are you literally just dumping me outside the gate?”
That awful, expressionless mask Celestina wore didn’t even crack. “His Eminence is done with you,” she said. “He has no responsibility to find you the means to reach wherever it is you wish to go.”
I followed Celestina, but more out of shock than compliance. They weren’t even going to give me a ride back into town? They lived in the country! Magiford was miles away! I studied Celestina’s back, bitterness seeping into the raw mix of emotions that churned in my chest.
