The roaring dragon was something everyone in the Midwest feared—at least anyone with any sense of self-preservation.

But Gideon was less than half a block behind me. If I waited for the motorcade, he’d catch me, and if I ran around the block again he’d be on me pretty quick.

My shoulder ached, but although fear made my heart pound in my throat with enough force to strangle me, I darted across the street, narrowly missing being hit by the lead car.

Gideon skidded to a stop at the crosswalk as the lead car rumbled by, but when the SUV just behind it slowed to a crawl, he swore, turned on his heels, and ran back toward the park.

I didn’t stop running either. Gideon wasn’t going to be able to catch me now, but I needed to get away from the motorcade.

Only one magical group used a dragon as their emblem in this city: the Drake Family. The most powerful vampire Family in the Midwest. And they wouldn’t hesitate to maim us just for irritating them.

Thankfully, the cars barreled on, and I made it home without any more “fun”.

Well, I was almost hit by a blood delivery car—vampires had to be fed somehow—about four blocks up from the House. But neither Gideon nor a member of the infamous Drake Family stalked me home, so I’d count it as a win.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I considered jumping the knee-high wrought-iron fence that surrounded House Medeis. But considering I was the Heir I thought it best to pay my respects, so I trotted up the front sidewalk.

Even with my small abilities, I could feel the magic of the House bloom around me.

“Hey there,” I said with affection, greeting the House as I might a pet.

Thankfully, the House didn’t seem to mind my wussy powers. Its magic greeted me with a content purr as a butterfly danced among the flowers that lined the front porch.

The magical building was three stories tall and was cobbled out of stretches of blue siding with white trim and blocks of gray, ivy covered rock. Three turrets poked out of the House—two smaller ones in the front with the tallest in the back more closely resembling a bell tower. But instead of a bell it housed the House Beacon—a glowing orb that usually glowed blue with veins of gold.

The lawn was big—House Medeis had a giant lot—and there was a huge flower garden that started in front and stretched around to the back. A large koi pond and a cheerfully trickling fountain that was ornamented with diapered baby angel statues was also settled in the backyard.

A bit eclectic in both looks and architecture, the best way to describe it would be to say if a Victorian house and a French chateau had a building baby, House Medeis would be the offspring.

There were a bunch of cars in the long gravel driveway—which wasn’t unusual. Although House Medeis belonged to my immediate family, we still had a fairly large wizard House.

Let me explain. Vampires have Families, werewolves have Packs, fae have Courts, and wizards have Houses.

Though the term “wizard House” refers to the physical building—like House Medeis—it can also refer to the wizards who live there together as a sort of large magical family, not bound by blood, but by similar passions and desires…and a big magic House.

My parents ran House Medeis because the House itself was theirs, but there were roughly twenty adult wizards who belonged to House Medeis who we counted as family and who lived here with us.

I playfully slapped my hand on the fancy white porch railing, wincing when it made my shoulder twinge.

“I better disinfect that before I head out,” I muttered. “Great Aunt Marraine ought to be home, and she’s the least likely to blab to Dad and Mom. Maybe I should ask her.”

I heaved the front door open and popped inside, immediately kicking off my shoes. (House Medeis got crabby if you walked its floors with your shoes on. It only takes so many times of getting your sneakers chucked at your head before you learn this, even as a child.)

“I’m home,” I called out to any other members of House Medeis who might be around. “But not for long. I’m just stopping by to grab my car, then—”

“Hazel?” Great Aunt Marraine appeared in the hallway—the bright blue streak she dyed into her curly white hair made her impossible to mistake.

“Yep.” I shook my arm out, trying to get the sting out of my shoulder wound, and padded closer, pausing when I saw how puffy and red her eyes were. “What’s wrong?”

Great Aunt Marraine pressed her hands to her ample bosom, but at my words her face crumpled, and she pulled me into a hug. “It’s your parents. There’s been an accident.”

The world seemed to slow as she pressed my face into her shoulder. “What?” I asked with numb lips.

“There was a car crash and…and…”

I heard ringing in my ears.

Great Aunt Marraine sobbed. “Hazel…they’re dead.”

Chapter Two

Hazel

The funeral and wake were crowded with everyone from House Medeis and well-wishers from the magical community—representatives from werewolf Packs, fae Courts, vampire Families, and the other wizarding Houses we were allied with.

I tried to smile and forced myself to accept handshakes and embraces, but all I wanted to do was scream.

What went wrong?

I was supposed to meet my parents for a talk, and now I stood in front of their coffins.

The police officers who had responded told me it was an accident. A drunk driver—in the middle of the day.

She hit their car at an intersection, killing my parents—two of the most powerful wizards in the city—on impact.

It was so wrong. But the nightmare had gone on long enough for me to know it was real.

I tried to swallow and almost choked. My mouth was too dry.

I glanced over my shoulders at the unforgiving, black coffins and shuddered. I quickly gazed forward again, meeting the stony expressions of the leaders of the local supernaturals.

Sam, the Alpha of Pack Whitefrost, scratched his beard, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as he spoke with Lady Vif, the representative of the fae Summer Court.

My parents had been good friends with both of them, but they wouldn’t meet my gaze.

Breathe, I had to remind myself. Breathe! I wanted to scream and demand to know how this could have happened, but I had to stay calm.

I—weak magic and all—was all House Medeis had.

Though my eyes stung with unshed tears and I wanted to crumple, I couldn’t.

I had been the Heir.

Now I was the House Medeis Adept. The leader.

And not only did I have an old, magical home depending on me, but everyone who had been sworn into our family as well.

For them, I wouldn’t break. At least, not on the outside. I couldn’t do anything to stop the pain from tearing my heart from end to end.

That was why I looked out at the werewolf Alphas, the fae nobles, the visiting vampires, and all the other powers that be that had come for the funeral, and I knew the truth.

They were predators, circling me. They were trying to gauge me and see what I’d mean for House Medeis, and how that would impact the supernatural community

Based on their expressions—the vampires’ curled upper lips, the wolfish grins of the werewolves, the smug smiles of the other wizards—it did not look good.

I didn’t blame them for their low opinion of me.

As the last Medeis I had to inherit the House. If I died the House Medeis would change names—and lose some of its respect, power, and members in the process. It would disband and be reborn or, in reality, be re-branded in a new image. If you didn’t entirely separate from the old family line, the House would eventually rebel. Yeah, it sounds like a bunch of elitist crap—and for the most part I still think it is—but a magical House throwing a temper tantrum is never good. So even though I was the weakest wizard in the House, I was now the Adept.

“Do you need a break, Adept?” Great Aunt Marraine asked.

My stomach churned at the title I knew shouldn’t have come to me for decades. “It’s fine.”

Great Aunt Marraine studied me through bottlecap glasses that made her eyes large and owlish. “The House allowed the caterers in—though it was a near thing. All will be ready for the luncheon.”

“Thanks, Great Aunt Marraine.”

“Of course, dear.” She looked past me. Judging by the weight in her gaze, she was studying my parents’ coffins. “They were taken from us too early.”

My throat squeezed, and I could only manage to stare out at the mourners.

“But,” Great Aunt Marraine continued, “you’ll be a fine Adept.”

I couldn’t help the frown that made my forehead wrinkle as I shifted my stare to her. Had she finally cracked? Great Aunt Marraine was old when I was born, but she’d always been spry—and sassy enough to know that an Adept who could barely start a campfire wasn’t much of an Adept at all.

She reached out and smoothed my blond hair away from my face. “The blood of the Medeis wizards flows in your veins, Hazel. You’ll thrive. And when we get back to the House you need to eat. The caterer made your father’s favorite triple chocolate brownies. You ought to have one or a dozen, get some more meat on these bird bones of yours.”

I tried to smile at her, but the thought that my dad and I would never split another brownie was enough to make a pins and needles sensation prickle in my lungs. “I will,” I lied.

“Good.” Aunt Marraine nodded, then waddled away—her unusual gingham dress a spot of bright blue in the sea of black.

I watched her until I noticed Mason drift away from the House Tellier representatives and walk in my direction.

Mason was one of the best wizards in House Medeis, and was an extremely distant relative. I think his great, great, great grandmother had been a Medeis, but it was so far back I couldn’t remember the specifics, and the connection was so diluted the House didn’t consider his blood to be part of my family line. He was in his mid-thirties, about ten years older than me, so I hadn’t hung out with him when we were kids. But I’d always admired his talent for magic.