Magic Forged

I wasn’t used to having a model-tall woman who had enough deadly grace to run easily in pantsuits and stilettos smile at me so welcomingly. The tight bun she had her black hair wrapped in couldn’t mask its luxurious thickness, and the golden-olive tone of her skin gave her beauty a warmth that the other vampires in the room—equally handsome but cold in their paleness—lacked.

I shifted nervously. “Nice to meet you, Celestina.”

Her smile grew, but although her white fangs flashed, the garnet shade of her eyes seemed almost kind. That warmth was dangerous. There was a possibility she used it to lull people into complacence.

I relaxed my posture when she finally removed her gaze, and glanced over at Rupert while Killian Drake unfolded black workout pants from the gym bag. “Rupert,” Celestina said. “Introduce yourself.”

“Why?” Rupert drawled. “It’s a rat-blood.”

“Rupert,” Celestina snapped. All of her warmth disappeared in a moment, and her eyes glowed red.

Rupert instantly snapped to attention. “I’m Rupert Drake,” he said in a flat but speedy voice. He jerked his chin at me. “I look forward to training you.”

Though he sneered, the speed at which he responded to Celestina’s order showed just how powerful she was. (Not that I expected anything less from Killian Drake’s First Knight.)

I sneaked a glance at Killian—he was pulling what looked like a white shirt from the bag and seemed pretty occupied. Good.

I gave Rupert the biggest smile I could muster. “That’s great. Though it seems I’ll have to hope the smell of my blood doesn’t upset your senses—which seem surprisingly delicate and fragile.”

Rupert, apparently having the maturity of a toddler, scowled and decided to tattle. “Your new pet is yippy, Your Eminence.”

“It is the nature of puppies,” Killian said in a dismissive tone. “Some find it endearing.”

Celestina cocked her head and studied Killian’s face. “Do you, Your Eminence?”

Chapter Nine

Hazel

Killian paused, and I held my breath and sweated nervously. “She is amusing—particularly when prodded into yipping,” he finally said.

I blinked. “Huh?”

Killian ignored me. “Rupert will instruct you on weightlifting and running. Celestina will be your weapons teacher.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because if I placed you in a room with a weapon and Rupert, I’m not sure you’d survive.”

Wasn’t that just awesome? Though it seemed I was allowed to be mouthy—as long as I didn’t push it. That was good news. I had a healthy sense of self-preservation, but when you got picked on as much as I had, you also had to develop a sense of determination, or you’d be crushed by it all.

“Locker rooms are through there,” Celestina said, seemingly at random, though she pointed to the two doors at the far side of the room.

“Okay?” I glanced curiously at the door.

Killian held the shirt up against me. “It’s too big. She is the equivalent of a purse dog. This is unsatisfactory.” He narrowed his eyes at his First Knight.

Celestina slightly bowed her head. “I understand, Your Eminence. I will send someone out to procure her clothes in the proper size. Will this do until then?”

I frowned slightly. “Why are you asking him that?”

Killian’s eyes were a fathomless black as he studied me in a clinical way. “I suppose.”

“Excellent.” Celestina swiveled to face me. “You may change in the locker room, Hazel Medeis.”

Killian held out the clothes with the languid grace of someone doing a great favor.

I made myself carefully take them and cross the room, waiting until I got through the locker room entrance before sourly muttering, “Oh, I may change, may I?”

“See? Such fun to bait,” Killian loudly said with satisfaction.

I jumped at the reminder of vampire hearing—which while not as good as a werewolf’s was still obviously much better than mine—and scurried into the women’s locker room as quickly as possible.

I hurriedly changed and threw my stuff in a locker, pausing just long enough to wash my hands and make a face in the mirror.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Killian was right. The clothes were too big on me. The shirt hung down past my butt, and I had to roll up the pant legs. I looked like a kid wearing her parents’ clothes. (Plus I only had my black buckle shoes that were part of the servants’ uniform, so I looked impressively stupid.)

I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes.

I had no idea what I was doing, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about being Killian’s new pet project.

This was the opposite of what I wanted to happen, but I didn’t have any choice but to go with it and pray the vampires didn’t kill me in their ignorance. (Though I was hoping that my seal—which couldn’t easily be broken given that it hadn’t so much as shivered despite what I’d lived through the past week—held out long enough for the vampire Eminence to lose all interest in me.)

And…a small part of me was aware that this random gym thing was keeping me distracted from stewing over my parents’ actions. Which I was actually grateful for. Mason’s betrayal was a shock, but perhaps I could understand why.

But I would never understand why my parents had me sealed.

Ever.

When I came trotting out of the locker room I was surprised and pleased to see Killian had left.

Celestina stood with her hands on her hips, watching Rupert as he unearthed a set of dust-covered dumbbells that looked like they were about three pounds each. (For reference, three benches down, a male vampire was effortlessly using a pair of 50lb dumbbells while he laughed and chatted with his friends.)

Rupert glanced in my direction as I approached the area he had cleared in front of the mirrors. “I don’t think you could look more pathetic if you tried.”

I locked my legs. “I feel like you have unresolved anger issues with wizards,” I said. “Were you ever scorned in love by a human? Maybe had a Twilight fling?”

Rupert’s jaw dropped, then his face turned a lovely shade of red that almost matched his hair. “W-w-what?” he sputtered.

I observed with great interest. I had made the guess to be cheeky because I figured it wasn’t possible, but based on his reaction maybe I hadn’t been far off?

Celestina observed my buckle shoes. “You need appropriate footwear.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t have any here.”

She tapped the side of her leg. “Not a problem. I will add it to the list. Now, Rupert will commence with your training. I am merely here to observe.”

And probably make sure he didn’t kill me—which I might deserve after my little Twilight comment.

“Okay.” I nodded and tied the extra material of my shirt in a knot at the waist so it wasn’t quite so loose. “Thank you.”

“Rupert, you may begin.” Celestina bowed her head to the red-haired vampire, who had recovered—though his eyes glittered with furious sparks.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. He paused, then bowed to Celestina. “You’re training her tomorrow in weapons?”

“Yes.”

Rupert smiled maliciously. “In that case, we’ll begin with the arms. She’ll need weight training before she can handle lifting a weapon.”

It sounded logical, which instantly put me on my guard. (There was no way he was going to play nice when he made his dislike of me so obvious.)

Rupert pointed to the dumbbells. “Pick those up—and don’t set them down until I say so.”

Turns out, I was right. Rupert wasn’t playing nice at all.

He trained me in weightlifting for about an hour and a half, and for almost the entire time he focused on arms—stopping only to make me do these awful squats and lunges when I needed a break.

It was really difficult, but it wasn’t until the following morning when I woke up and—even though I was just sitting in my bed—my arms and legs hurt so much I thought the night had been a hallucination and the fae monster had crushed me.

It hurt to move my arms at all, and I had a feeling staircases were going to be murderous if my legs ached this much already.

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.