The Games of Enemies and Allies (Magic on Main Street, #2; Magiford Supernatural City #14)

“So?” Margarida demanded.

“Amée, Auberi, once again I suggest you don’t try to pick fights in my hall,” Killian blandly suggested. “Not that I mind, but my Family is possibly more protective of humans than I am, so you might not survive your stay.”

Amée scoffed and looked away.

Auberi looked suitably cowed, but for the sake of his pride he pushed on. “Dress it up as you will, humans are only good for their blood.”

That got a scowl out Killian, but Auberi wasn’t done.

“Your One,” he continued, “will never be your equal, and what you feel for her is a farce.”

My indifference evaporated, and I reacted without thinking. “Enough.” I put my power into the word, filling the room with my presence.

The Dracos children fell silent—because they had to go silent. The power in my word kept their jaws shut.

Margarida was trembling like a leaf, Amée was so pale she looked faint, and even Auberi and Baldwin were shaking in fear.

I exhaled deeply. That might have been an overreaction. The sudden burst of anger had surprised even me, and I didn’t want to internally investigate the source of my outburst, though I had a fairly good idea it involved a certain red-haired slayer.

Perhaps I’m closer to danger than I thought.

I set my mug down and surveyed the table.

All of them—Margarida, Amée, Auberi, and Baldwin—stared at the table surface as they were unable to look at me. Except, that is, for Killian.

He wore a thoughtful expression—one I didn’t particularly like.

I swatted my power off, though the pressure lingered in the air like an unwanted relative.

“Stop arguing,” I said. “You’re irritating me more than usual, and with so many of you in one room I don’t have much patience for your antics.” It had my usual sardonic tone and it seemed plausible, but Killian’s expression didn’t change.

The smallest hint of a smirk slanted the right corner of his mouth, but his siblings didn’t seem to pick up on his good mood. They sat quietly in their chairs.

“Yes, Elder Maledictus,” they murmured.

I sighed and stood up. “Next time I drop in, I expect you won’t be arguing like children. If I do, that will make me worry for you. And if I worry, I’ll have to visit you, at your home, with your vampire Family around you, just to reassure myself.”

Baldwin flinched at the threat, and Amée and Auberi gulped in perfect synchronization—even Margarida looked spooked.

Killian stood; his expression cleared. “Allow me to see you out.”

Guessing he wanted to escape his siblings, I shrugged and said nothing when he followed me to the door.

Only once the door closed behind us did I speak. “I hope you’re having fun with them.”

Killian waited until we were farther down the hallway—out of range of their hearing, no doubt. “I haven’t been here—though they think I am. During the day, I stay with my One in her wizard House,” Killian said.

I stopped walking and turned around so I could frown at him.

Why on earth would he share such a dangerous detail with me? I could use that knowledge for any number of things.

Killian’s expression was placid—not worried, but not defiant either.

“You said you didn’t want to leave your siblings unsupervised.”

“They sleep most of the day. They never even notice when I leave.”

“I see.” I said when he didn’t say anything else. “I’d congratulate you on escaping, but it’s likely you’ll be paying for property damage at some point. The Dracos line is as destructive as they are melodramatic.” I turned my back to Killian again and made my way toward the entrance to his little hall.

“We get our destructive tendencies from you,” Killian said, his voice abnormally good-natured sounding. “You’ve modeled it for us for centuries.”

I grunted but didn’t further explore the concept as I was almost free of the hall.

But as Killian placidly followed at my heels, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the declaration had been some sort of test and my reaction had somehow pleased him.

I don’t like a pleased Killian either. I don’t think it’s any better than smug Killian.

Whatever. Killian had always played his own game, and I’d be leaving Magiford—and his domain—eventually.

I was jabbed with the thought of Jade and the knowledge that I’d be leaving my greatest form of entertainment behind when I did leave.

Ahh, well. It is regretful, but inevitable. I shall merely have to focus on enjoying myself as long as I’m here.

She’d be sad when I left, but she’d make more friends—she was too delightful a person not to—and she’d been careful to mind the boundaries we’d put into place as Connor and Jade. So as desperate as she was for friends, it didn’t seem like she was looking for more from me.

Which was oddly disappointing, but I could blame that on my twisted sense of humor.

We reached the front doors, and one of Killian’s vampires opened it for us so I could walk directly outside to the staircase that led down to the paved—and insanely long—driveway.

I glanced up at the sky. True darkness had settled in, leaving the heavens a sooty mixture of black and blue with a handful of stars to brighten it up.

“I’m still going to have my Family look for you,” Killian said, ruining the moment of silence.

“I would expect nothing less,” I said.

Killian nodded, satisfied. “If you revealed where you were holing up, my siblings might take their leave.”

“I’m uninterested in what would bring your siblings any kind of reassurance or positive feelings,” I said, listening to the rattling of dead leaves as the wind swept through Killian’s front yard.

Killian laughed. “I expect not. But one can always hope. Take care, Considine.”

I lazily waved to him as I descended the stairs. (I needed to get off his property before shifting to my bat form and heading back to Magiford. Killian likely had cameras stuffed in every tree and every bush on the property.)

“You know, humans are worth the heartbreak,” Killian called.

I paused at the base of the stairs, pivoted, and peered up at the obviously insane Killian. “I take back all my earlier defenses of you. You’re starting to lose it.”

Killian shrugged. “You know I’m not as soft hearted as Margarida, and even if we ignore my One…her wizards are delightful enough to make it worthwhile.”

“And when they all die, and you are left with the gaping hole they created in your life?” I skeptically asked.

Killian adjusted the cuffs of his spotless suitcoat. “I haven’t quite figured that part out yet,” he admitted.

“Mhmm,” I said. “Good luck. It’ll only take one time to learn better.” I started to turn away.