Magic Forged

I tried to move, but my vision was turning hazy, and soon I couldn’t even scream anymore.

My body felt heavy, and it took a lot of effort to keep breathing.

I thought I heard shouts, but I couldn’t be sure because my eyes closed against my will. Something prodded my forehead twice before I lost all feeling and fell into darkness.

Chapter Seven

Hazel

I woke up slowly, noticing the foreign sensation of sheets so soft they felt like silk, and the curious lack of pain.

Had I died? Was Heaven actually full of comfortable beds and expensive linens? I mean, I certainly wasn’t going to complain about it. That actually sounded pretty awesome at the moment. Though I was starting to get hot.

I slowly opened my eyes, wondering if I’d see Mom or Dad first.

Instead I got a face full of red eyes, a fashionably handsome look of distaste, and hair that was so artfully ruffled it belonged on a runway model instead of the head of a vampire.

Oh, I thought, my musings coming to me in a foggy mist. That’s Killian Drake.

Although my thoughts were complacent, my body must have known better, for a shot of adrenaline tore through me. Wait…that’s Killian Drake!

I sat up, intending to shriek, but the pain in my ribs stole the breath from my lungs, so it ended up being more of a feeble wheeze.

Killian, seated in a velvet armchair placed at the end of my bed, gave me a clear look of condescension. “I advise you to move with care. Your shoulder wound finally just closed, and it took a dozen fae potions to keep you from dribbling blood like a wounded water buffalo.”

I stared wide-eyed at Killian, barely daring to breathe.

Why was the Eminence of the Midwest and the leader of the Drake Family sitting in a chair by my bed?

He wasn’t the type to wait by anyone’s bedside, much less an unimportant kitchen servant. Which meant he was doing this for a reason. What, I couldn’t possibly fathom. Hopefully I could bleat my thanks, he’d leave, and I could stew it over in comfortable loneliness.

I awkwardly cleared my throat. “What happened?”

Killian blinked slowly, the red of his eyes so dark they almost appeared black. “So droll and so typical. Do you really not remember the creature that did its best to disembowel you?”

“I remember stabbing it in the abdomen with its own claw.” I tried to discreetly roll my shoulders, marveling over the smooth motion that didn’t hurt, even though I’d basically taken a dagger wound.

“Yes, rather ingenious for a wizard. Although you did your best to die afterwards and have been out of it for an hour.” Killian pointed to a glass chalice filled with a foamy blue liquid. “Drink that.”

I squinted at the cup—was it bubbling?

“It’s an A level healing draught,” Killian said. His tone was bored, as if such a potion was nothing significant when, in fact, they cost about a month’s worth of the average human salary. “Drink it so you stop wincing over your cracked ribs.”

I seriously hoped Killian was exaggerating due to his general irritation with me, but I didn’t dare refuse. (Although I had a sinking suspicion this was going to cost me big time in the future. Did he plan to dock my pay?)

I held the chalice with a shaky hand and took a sip, relaxing at the flavor—which tasted creamy, almost like ice cream, with a tangy hint of sea salt.

I glanced up, surprised to see Killian hadn’t left while I consumed the potion. That he was still sitting in his chair made the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

Yep. It was final. He had to be here for a reason, and whatever it was, I was certain I wasn’t going to like it.

I cleared my throat. “It was a fae creature, right? What was it doing here?”

Fae are a little different from the rest of us supernaturals because they have access to…I suppose you could call it a realm. It’s much smaller than Earth, and about four times as dangerous, as it’s infected with magical creatures—from unicorns to the more frightening trolls. Supposedly elves used to rule this smaller realm, but they died out centuries ago, and the place turned toxic. Not many fae live in that realm anymore, with the exceptions of fae Courts. Nobles can stake their claims given they are the only type rich enough to afford the necessary magical wards that make it possible to stay there.

Occasionally monsters slipped from the fae realm to Earth, but it was pretty rare, and exceptionally weird that it would spawn so close to Drake Hall.

Killian shrugged. “It is called a mantasp—an insectoid monster from the fae realm, yes. Which, obviously, implies a fae let it loose here.”

I gaped at him. “No way.”

He raised a black eyebrow at me. “I suppose you know better?”

“It’s against the non-aggression treaty!”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s only against the non-aggression treaty if it can be proved the fae actually did it. Given that I do not have a fae on staff capable of discerning such a thing—and no fae would willingly take a job that would rat out their kinsmen—it’s impossible to prove.”

I felt the cool sensation of the healing draught trigger, and the skin on my ribcage tingled and itched. I awkwardly scratched it as I frowned in thought. “Could it have been the murderer?”

Killian shook his head. “Too flashy. Though it is suspected the murderer is of fae origin as well.” He leaned his head back, and the light from an elaborate light fixture above us caught his eyes, revealing more shades of crimson red.

I frowned when I looked around and realized I was not in my bedroom in the servants’ quarters. This place was way too fancy. There was a chandelier, expensive sheets, and the mattress had an elaborate foot and headboard and was big enough for me to roll across multiple times. Where was I? I was still wearing my black dress pants that were part of my uniform, but my slashed white dress shirt had been replaced with a soft cotton t-shirt, and I wasn’t certain I wanted to know who had changed me while I was out of it.

The corners of Killian’s lips turned up in a slight smirk that boded poorly for me. “Hazel Medeis.”

I slightly hunched my shoulders and reluctantly met his gaze. “Yes?”

Killian’s smirk bloomed, flashing his fangs which gave a bit of savagery to his otherwise stylish image. “I’ve taken an interest in you.”

I felt the blood drain from my face, and my hands shook under the despicably soft sheets that had swindled me into complacency. “Please don’t,” I blurted out, then realized how that sounded. “I mean, I’m, uh, not worthy of your…attention.”

Killian stood, his height adding to the imposing figure he already made, and ignored my protests. “You successfully fought off a mantasp using only a flicker of magic. If you hadn’t been bleeding out like a wounded seal—”

I really was starting to wish he’d stop comparing me to animals—it was hardly reassuring given the current company’s diet.

“—you might have finished it off. I didn’t know such a feat was possible for wizards—you all are so hilariously useless at anything besides magic.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and glanced down at me. “I always thought it might be fun to have a pet wizard capable of harassing the fae.”

Relief almost made me flop back on my pillows. He wanted a pet wizard, did he? Then I was the worst candidate for the job. “I am sorry to say, sir, but I am very bad at magic,” I told him, doing my best to fake embarrassment and cover up my joy. “I don’t have much at all—that’s why I had to outmaneuver the monster.”

I peeked up at him to see if the act was working.

Killian was still, unfortunately, smirking. “I don’t believe it.” His British accent was a little stronger than usual—I had thought it was so faint because it had been worn away with the passing of time, but maybe he did it on purpose?

“But I’m not lying!” I tried to discreetly edge across the bed, putting myself on the side farther away from him. “I can show you my registration in the Curia Cloisters—I have barely any powers at all. That’s not something I can fake!”

Killian gave me a withering look. “Of course you aren’t faking it,” he scoffed. “Wizards are too stupid to pull off such a conniving and convincing act. No, I suspect your parents had your powers sealed at birth.”

I barely kept from laughing. He thought my parents would seal my magic? They’d never do that—our family existed to serve the House! As it was, my lack of magic was the greatest threat to House Medeis!

“I’m sure you think and were told you have limited powers,” Killian said. “But I don’t believe it. Your parents were some of the most powerful in their generation, despite the low ranking of House Medeis.”

I wanted to snarl at him, but it was true. Even though my parents had been quite powerful—Dad had been considered a genius in his younger days, and Mom had been even stronger than him—House Medeis had a really low ranking among wizard Houses in the Midwest. We just didn’t have that much power.

“The statistics that they would birth a dud are astoundingly low,” Killian continued. “But there’s one condemning piece of evidence that you do have more magic, and they knew it.”

I pressed my lips together and wasn’t able to keep the sourness out of my voice. “What?”

“You.” Killian flicked a finger at me. “If you really are a dud, why didn’t they try for another child? Or adopt? Even if they adopted outside the family, a second or third child with a sibling bond and strong magic would better cement your position as Adept. Except they knew it wasn’t necessary.”

I smiled and tried to keep my voice pleasant. “I didn’t need siblings because I have plenty of family to back me already.”

Because wizards don’t stab each other in the back like vampires! A moment passed before I realized that was exactly what wizards apparently did and was the reason why I was even in Drake Hall.

Killian shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what you think. I’ll take you to the Paragon for inspection. He’ll be able to determine if I’m right.”