Magic Forged

“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.