Page 110 of Mage Massacres

I began building the image of Raguel in my mind. Having him standing amongst the others was helpful while I focused on his height, shoulder width, and hair. Those were the smaller tasks that used less energy.

And then I altered each face, one by one, making sure they were precise—otherworldly blue eyes, square jaw... and the confident smirk the real Raguel was wearing.

With all the guys wearing pants and t-shirts or jackets, I skipped the body parts that weren’t on display. I left their clothes alone, too, not seeing the need to exert that kind of time or energy.

The animals were more complicated. I decided to create copies of the angel and have them integrate into the four-legged creatures like centaurs. I changed the appearance of their size, added clothes to cover the leathery skin, and blended their backsides to look like the land around them.

As long as the hounds didn’t growl and Pete didn’t chirp, they’d pass as Raguel.

When I tuned back into Sloane and Annette, I realized that only a few minutes had passed. Hyde had joined the conversation, and the fae-mage had become less irritated.

Miller still stood in front of me, slightly to my left. The night witch had her left hand positioned out of Annette’s sight, her index finger swirling in a steady rhythm while drawing symbols. As she finished the current one, it lit a deep orange and faded into the edge of the barrier, inches from her body.

“Done,” I called. “What are you planning?”

Sloane’s essence bounced, as though she were shrugging mentally. “Murder.”

“What is Miller casting?”

My mate’s internal voice filled with humor. “Fire containment.”

“What—”

“Stop asking questions,” Hyde commanded.

Using the same persuasion on Annette, she said, “I already know. I simply need you to confirm the job at hand. You want me to retrieve a box, kill a fae, and then meet you where?”

I was gob-smacked that the little succubus was able to make Annette think they were on her side. She had controlled a room full of powerhouses in Hell, but this… This was different.

“No, no,” Annette disagreed, seeming disoriented. “It’s not just any box. I can show you the replica I found, but that one was filled with rocks and garbage. I need you to find the real one so I can take it to my father. He needs it to get into the druid’s realm.”

“Where did you find the replica? That could help eliminate the places that I need to search,” Hyde suggested.

“Nashville. I thought the demon had it, but I turned their apartment inside out and couldn’t find it there. It was at her home.”

Annette pointed to the ground at my mate’s feet.

“She saw Hyde kill Miller and me,” Sloane informed me, answering the question I wasn’t able to ask. “I’ve glamoured her mind, and Hyde is making her believe it’s true. If you were to see through Annette’s eyes, everyone would be dead except for Raguel and the tiny terror beside us.”

“Of course, it was,” the succubus sneered. “I’m positive I can find the box. When I do, where do you want me to meet you?”

“Australia,” Annette answered, glancing around us as Hyde’s power tinged the air. “Albany. There’s a national forest nearby. My father is expecting me there in thirteen days.”

Hyde nodded. “That’s doable. What about the fae you were talking about?”

“Alania is on the winter throne, but she’s also my mother. She’s already causing strife between the winters and summers. When they wage war, she’ll come to the druid’s realm. My father wants to clean out both realms and start over with the more powerful of the species.”

“Vex is the winter queen,” I corrected. “Alania has been dead for eighteen years. She was the summer princess and my mother’s younger sister.”

“I heard that Alania was dead,” Hyde mentioned in a dreamy tone.

Annette scoffed. “She’s alive and well, hating the winter weather. The fae think she’s Vex thanks to my father’s enhanced magic.”

“Sorry, Vaughn,” the succubus murmured before responding to... My cousin? That felt strange to say. “How did she manage to kill Vex? We hear rumors in the Underworld, but who knows if they’re true or not.”

“Have you ever been to Voletan?” Annette asked.

When Hyde nodded, she continued. “There’s a vine that grows on the rocks near the shoreline. My father brought some home from his trip to the Underworld. When the liquid it produces touches obsidian, they create a poison that will kill a fae.”