Magic Forged

Celestina left our jogging path, making for the trees.

I trailed behind her, adjusting my hold on my sword so Celestina could grab it if she needed to—perhaps the fae had dumped another monster off?

Celestina ducked under a low hanging tree branch, froze, then muttered under her breath in Spanish.

She yanked her cellphone out of her suitcoat and pressed a speed-dial number.

I peeked around her shoulder, freezing when I saw a pair of booted feet poking out of a bush. It was a body.

My skin turned clammy, and I thought I could detect the faintest whiff of blood. Somehow, I didn’t think the owner of the feet was as lucky as I had been. My stomach protested, and I rapidly backed away.

“Your Eminence,” Celestina said to her phone. “The murderer struck again, and I believe I found his latest victim.”

Two hours later I was showered, dressed in a suit that fit me surprisingly well, drinking tea from a real bone china teacup…and surrounded by vampires.

We were located in a meeting room—or the at-home, vampire-version of a meeting room. A long wooden table that had dragons carved into its legs stretched through the center of the room, but as big as it was, it still wasn’t large enough to fit all the Drake vampires who were present. The unseated vamps stood at the edges of the room, their eyes glittering ruby red in their fury. The room was as lavish as the rest of the mansion—expensive paintings hung on the wood paneled walls, and the marble fireplace probably cost a fortune—but I found it a little off putting because it also lacked any windows and was so dimly lit I could barely make out the flower pattern of my teacup.

A male vampire exchanged shouts with a female vampire, and Celestina stood in an attentive position at the door, holding a handgun aimed at the floor.

I sank lower on my rickety chair and tried to make myself as unnoticeable as possible. The meeting had only started ten minutes ago, and there had already been a lot of slamming fists on the table so it cracked ominously.

It turned out the body Celestina and I found belonged to Layton—a Drake vampire, and the first victim from Killian’s lineage. Unsurprisingly, the powerful Family was not taking the news well.

“We must take action,” Rupert declared. “Layton was killed on Drake Family land. That’s reason enough for us to declare war!”

“Declare war on what?” asked a male vampire with chestnut hair. “We have a serial killer on the loose—other Families have had losses as well.”

“And they have been too lazy and incompetent to find the murderer—or murderers—themselves,” a female vampire hotly said. “We cannot afford to hope they will shake themselves out of their apathy—our race will die out before then. We must find the murderer and mete out justice—for Layton’s sake!”

“Might I remind you, we’ve also lost a servant and two blood donors,” Josh said. He leaned against the wall, nonchalantly studying the bare blade of a dagger that he balanced between his fingertips.

“Obviously.” The female vampire rolled her eyes. “There has been collateral damage. But it is inexcusable that we lost one of our own in a time where every vampire is needed to assert our power, and turning new vampires is nearly impossible!”

I bristled at the implication and started to shift in my chair, before I remembered who I’d been placed next to and froze.

But I was too late. Killian—seated at the head of the table, with me directly next to him, though I had voluntarily scooted against the corner of the table—glanced over at me.

I kept my eyes on the teacup and pressed my lips together.

Why was I even in this meeting? Killian meant to make me into a soldier, but this was Drake Family business. I absolutely didn’t want to be here—but Celestina hadn’t given me much of a choice. As soon as my hair had dried enough that it wouldn’t soak the collar of my suit, she had dragged me here and forcibly served me tea before the other vampires had arrived.

She probably had been ordered to by Killian, given my spot, but I understood even less why he would want me present.

Killian blinked slowly, and kept staring at me as the heated discussion continued.

“Obviously the murderer is backed by the Night Court,” Rupert said, naming one of the biggest local fae Courts. “For too long they’ve threatened us and opposed our movements in the Regional Committee of Magic. It’s time we finally teach them a lesson.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the other vampires.

“The Night Court,” Josh said, his voice simultaneously speculative and wistful. “The darkest of fae Courts who embrace the breath of death into their lives.”

The female vampire standing on Josh’s other side, sighed. “That lacked sense.”

Josh morosely studied his dagger. “For those who do not share the burden of life, yes.”

The vampires all stared at him for a moment, before collectively turning the discussion to a new point.

“If the others would help us, we could get this murderer much more quickly,” said one of the vampires I’d seen at the gym.

“They said they would help,” Julianne—the vampire who had reported to Celestina right before we found the body—sourly said. “The problem is they won’t prioritize it.”

“And they never will,” a vampire snorted. “Everyone is too concerned with holding onto their own power—that’s why the wizard is here.”

I felt like a bunny in a bear den when the vampires all shifted their glittering red eyes to me.

Though my heart pounded and my survival instinct screamed at me to run, I carefully set my teacup down and did my best to look angelic.

It seemed to appease them, and they looked away.

“The other members of the Committee don’t help us out of concern for themselves.” Rupert slammed his fist into the table with enough force to make my teacup rattle. “They’re happy to see us struggle. It’s why they won’t try and rein the Night Court in even though they must be behind all of this!”

I frowned at my teacup as I listened, not sure how much I liked hearing all of this. (But I didn’t think trotting around Drake Hall in ignorance was great for my health, either.)

“Hazel.” It was the first time Killian had spoken since sitting down, and it brought an instant and smothering silence to the room.

I hid my hands under the table and made myself meet his eyes. “Yes?”

“What do you think?”

Agog, I stared at him.

What did I think? What did it matter what I thought? Why was he asking me this in the middle of a heated discussion I had no right to be a part of!

My heart beat faster and faster, and I finally understood how it was possible for wild animals to die of fright. “What do I think about what?” I asked in a surprisingly calm and solid voice.

Killian motioned to the table. “The discussion.”

I stared at him for a few moments longer, waiting—and hoping—for him to laugh at his own joke.

He didn’t.

He was serious.

Whhhhyyy? I never wished for powers of telepathy as much as I did then. Why, why, why was he throwing me under the bus? If I said the wrong thing one of his little minions was sure to kill me—at bare minimum Rupert would give me a weightlifting workout spawned from Hades, and I’d die in my sleep.

I cleared my throat. “I think the pattern over the last few decades has been that the various magical races will keep to their own. I wish it was different, but it’s the way things have become—as I’ve learned.” I paused and sucked in a breath before I made myself soldier on through. “I think what’s most worrisome is that the murderer is going after vampires and those they associate with—servants and blood donors, too. The killer isn’t doing this just out of political motivation, or they’d choose their targets more carefully. Besides, everyone wants to avoid getting the humans worried. The more humans killed, the less likely you’ll be able to keep this out of the public eye, and this will have a domino effect on everyone.”

I glanced around the room and was met with thoughtful and surprised gazes. Celestina gave me a faint smile, and Josh a nod of approval, but everyone remained silent. I snuck a peek at Killian—who was still staring at me.

“And?” he said.

He wanted me to keep going?

I frantically pulled my stray thoughts together, trying to come up with a conclusion that would get me out of this. “It means whoever is doing this doesn’t care about that possibility,” I said. “Humans greatly outnumber us and are more than capable of killing us off in masses. So I guess a serial killer is possible, unless…” I wanted to suck my neck into my shoulders, but I made myself sit straighter instead. “They’re doing this on purpose—killing the servants and blood donors—to make you look weak.”

Killian smiled at me, and the smothering silence finally evaporated.

“Obviously,” Rupert grumbled under his breath. “We’ve known that from the beginning.”

“But to have a wizard see it, too, can only strengthen our hypothesis, given she is coming at it from an entirely different viewpoint,” Celestina said.

This spawned thoughtful looks on most of the vamps present.

Killian finally straightened in his leather chair, going from languid to predatory in the blink of an eye. “Regardless who the murderer is, they are almost certainly sent by the Night Court. The Committee has turned a blind eye to the Night Court’s antics for too long—they don’t care how many laws the Night Court breaks as long as they only hassle the vampires. But that’s fine—it’s their prerogative.” His eyes were black in the dim light as he smiled, revealing his elongated fang teeth. “But I will make them feel pain, too. At the next meeting, I will strike down the request for land usage submitted by the local fae Courts and werewolf Packs.”

“What did they want to use land for?” a male vampire asked.

Killian shrugged. “They wished to turn it into a land preserve that werewolves and fae could use for magical purposes. But it doesn’t matter. They won’t get it.”