Magic Unleashed (Hall of Blood and Mercy, #3)

by K.M. Shea

“Still bearding the Wizard’s Council, are you?” Elite Bellus offered me a tiny pitcher of cream. “I’m not going to let them relax until they get an inheritance law on the table for discussion.” “And the more they resist?” I grinned. “The more paperwork they’re going to find waiting on their desks. So far we’ve only been lodging complaints about Mason. We can still register complaints on all the Houses that actively worked against me.” Elite Bellus laughed heartily. “I like your style. It’s legal, but you’re going to push until you force their hand—or drive them insane. Well done.” “Thank you.

Everyone loves you—they adore you. But they don’t feel like it’s their place to offer help.” “We don’t care,” Felix added. “Because we know you ate crayons in elementary school.” “That was an off year for me!”

And so into battle I went. For a vampire I currently hated, to a fight I wasn’t at all involved in. And it felt so, so right.

I cleared my throat. “I guess now would be as good a time as any to tell you that you are a raging moron.” The House Medeis wizards quieted at my words, but I could feel their tension—and rage on the part of Felix and Momoko, who were probably staring holes into my back. It was the right thing to say to Killian, though, who had frequently referred to my snark as the “amusing yaps of a puppy” when I first met him. He finally peeled his head back, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I guess,” he echoed. “Though I expected you to first complain how close my hand is to your butt, given that you seem very protective of it.” Someone made a strangled gurgle—I’m pretty sure it was Mr. Baree. “You are right,” I said. “Move it an inch, and I will call down a lightning strike right here and now.” Killian raised both of his eyebrows. “It might be worth it—just to see exactly what makes you so defensive.”

I’d like to reconcile, Hazel.” “Yeah, and I’d like a pony,” I grumbled.

I abruptly stood. “She said I wasn’t sincere,” I repeated, recycling my previous observation. “So, I will drown her in apologies until she gets one that hits whatever vague requirement she’s settled on.” I smirked, pleased with the turn my thoughts had taken.

I plucked at my warm sweater, pondering my response. “In your position, trusting someone would be difficult. However, the way you manipulated me isn’t okay. It’s not healthy, and I won’t take it long term. You really hurt me. Even though I had a hunch I knew what you were doing, you ripped me from the friends I’d made—from you—and dumped me on my own without any warning. That’s toxic, and I’m not going to experience it again.” Killian pressed his palms together. “What does that mean?” “It means either you trust me more and tell me what’s going on, or, once we take care of the Night Court, we will have an alliance of formality, not friendship,” I said. Killian cocked an eyebrow. “That doesn’t seem fair. You’re asking me to go against instincts and experience.” “It’s the price of my friendship, Killian,” I said. “Trust me, or we’ll both be miserable.” His expression was thoughtful, which shocked me. I didn’t think he’d actually care quite this much.

“Forgiveness means giving up my anger at your actions. It doesn’t mean there are no consequences to your actions,”

I wasn’t an idiot. I was painfully aware of how handsome Killian was, and I was competent enough to know he hadn’t kissed me on a lark. But I was also intelligent enough to know that if we couldn’t get the trust issue worked out, things would end badly. And I would be the one to pay the price. I didn’t love by halves—it was why Killian’s lack of trust hit me so hard, same as Celestina and Josh’s rejection. “Nothing changes,” I blurted out. “Until we fix our issues.” Killian thoughtfully studied me. “You mean until I show that I trust you?” “Yes.” “Your butt is still off limits to me, then?” “Yes!” I bristled at him and sank deeper into the chair as if it could protect me. “Why are you so obsessed with my butt, anyway?” “Mere curiosity. You are profoundly protective of it, so I imagine there must be a reason for that.” I groaned and mashed my palms into my eyes. “You’re the worst.”

He joined me at the door and gestured for me to continue. “Now, let us go save our wayward kinsmen.” “Great Aunt Marraine is a lot of things. I don’t know that I would ever call her wayward. Pushy, yes. Opinionated, for sure. Stubborn, heck yes. Naturally, I assume this means she and Rupert will be besties.” “What an auspicious start to our alliance.” “Totally.”

Since my Ascension ceremony at the very end of summer, my relationship with the magical House had drastically deepened. Previously I had to guess how it was feeling and what it wanted—which wasn’t too much of a problem since it was very clear on speaking its mind. If it was mad, it might express this by taking away all hot water from me, or by sending a raccoon down a chimney, which it had done once when I was a kid and broke a window but blamed it on the next-door neighbors. (Let me tell you, after that I was an extremely honest child. Nothing traumatizes you quite like taking an angry, sooty raccoon to the face.)

“You really would forgive me if I got you another sword?” “I already told you I forgave you.” I looked around, hoping for a broom or something to sweep the petals up—I now understood why all other vampires were conspicuously absent. “But we aren’t back to the way we were,” Killian persisted. “I told you just because I forgave you doesn’t mean there aren’t any consequences.”

“Fine. It’s your head on the line.” I held my hands up and backed off. “But the House has a personality of its own, Killian. You really don’t want to tick it off.” “Is that so?” Killian said in a factual tone. He flicked off his handgun’s safety and nonchalantly shot the floor. Slivers of wood sprayed the air, and instantly the ground parted beneath Killian’s feet, sending him plunging into the basement. The wood floor sealed up behind him, repairing the bullet hole, making it look as if nothing had happened. I turned to Celestina. “Please allow me to express my congratulations on becoming the new Drake Family Elder.”

This was an important moment. I needed to show that I understood what he was doing, and I was thankful. (Let’s just call it what it is, positive reinforcement. And I was going to reinforce the crap out of this particular behavior.)

Killian looked thoughtful. “A donut is too good for you,” he finally said. “You’re as mentally stable as a computer in need of updates.”

“All right. But what are you picturing we’re going to end up as?” Killian’s smile turned cunning. “I’ll take it all.” I blinked. “…what?” In the span of a heartbeat, Killian was out of his seat, and had his hands planted on the arm rests of my chair as he leaned into me. “I want everything,” he said. “Whatever you’ll give me. If that means friendship, we can stay there. But it seems to me you’re willing for more…”

“Partaking in caffeine at this hour will open the mysteries of the universe and allow you to see things as they are,” Josh said. Momoko studied him, then bluntly said, “What?” “I mean to imply if she drinks a caffeinated beverage at this hour, it will likely make her loopy,” Josh said. “Ah.” Momoko nodded. “Truth.”

“Josh,” I whispered. “What are you doing?” “Writing my epitaph,” Josh whispered back. “Because the end of the world has arrived. Time will soon collapse and all will sink into the ocean. The sign has appeared.”

“If the end of the world has come,” June started, “what point is there in having an epitaph? No one will be around to read it.” Josh paused in the middle of writing a word. “This is true…”

“It seems unreasonable that I have to scent you out like a blasted werewolf in my own home.” Killian tugged on my hand, maneuvering so when I turned around to face him I stepped into his arms. “Hi, Killian. What are you doing?” Killian’s lips hovered just above my neck. “I am mentally weighing up if I can get away with kissing your neck or if you’ll fish out that dagger I know Celestina got you.” I squeaked when his lips brushed my neck. “No blade? I’ll take that as a good sign,” he chuckled into my ear.

I groaned and stared up at the ceiling. “Why is the supernatural high society obsessed with love and who is dating whom? There are much higher stakes than whether or not we’re dating, and frankly I find it disturbing that it’s everyone’s main concern.” I might have let a little more of my irritation leak into my voice than I meant, because the Paragon patted my arm in sympathy. “There, there, my dear,” he said. “I dare say people only care because you’re a wizard and he’s a vampire. We haven’t had a cross-race romance in ages to coo over. You’re a modern Romeo and Juliet…if Romeo had political finesse and fangs and Juliet was capable of snapping someone’s head off.” “I’m not that strong. I think I’d have to fry them with magic,” I said. “But that’s not the point.”

The Drake vampires were offering each other curt nods and a few smiles and back slaps, until Momoko hugged Celestina and it became a free-for-all hug fest that involved most wizards chasing down slightly panicking vampires. (My favorite, I think, was when June snuck up on Rupert and gave him a hug. He squealed like a pig, but sat through it like an obedient dog.)

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that once in a while I woke up and my parents’ death hit me all over again. Sometimes I ached to sit down and drink tea with my mom again, or hear my dad laugh just one more time. But in interacting with the long-lived Drakes, I’d come to understand that grief never disappeared. It just faded slowly, bit by bit. One day I’d be able to think of my parents without wanting to cry, and for now, that was good enough.