Page 125 of Mage Massacres

“You knew,” Brent whispered, his thoughts voicing themselves without his knowledge.

The councilman was out of his chair, moving over the table before anyone else comprehended what he was doing. He slammed a pen between the base of Gary’s skull and jawbone.

“You knew where she was, and you thought it funny?” Brent shouted, digging the pen deeper as Gary twitched in his chair. “Amelia has been missing for twenty-four years.”

Gary gasped and wheezed, trying to speak as fat and muscle began to disappear from our sight. His skin wrapped around his bones, his body sucked completely dry of... Everything.

“Is he holding Gary down?”

“He’s doing more than that, Love,” Palmer informed me.

“Brent is one of the strongest necromancers the guild has ever seen.”

Life drained from Gary Brown, slow and painful. His skin became ashen as Brent loomed over him. The necromancer’s eyes spun red and black. Blood dripped from his nostrils.

Brent didn’t release his hold on the councilman until a mummified mage slumped over in the chair. His lips and cheeks had folded over his teeth. His fingers contorted in strange directions. The suit jacket hung from his frame, the navy complimenting his dingy gray skin.

I’d never seen a necromancer take life, only reanimate the already dead.

I was fascinated, though.

Palmer snapped his attention to me. “Don’t get any ideas.”

My face ached from holding my smile at bay, and when Brent was back in his seat, wiping his nose with a handkerchief, I popped.

“I need to know how you did that. I want to do that.”

“No,” my mate drawled. “You don’t.”

Then he turned to a perplexed Brent. “Don’t you dare tell her how you did that. She doesn’t need to know.”

“I do,” I insisted. “Look at how easy the cleanup will be.”

“Love,” Palmer groaned in exasperation. “Just, no.”

When Brent opened his mouth, my mage glared at him as he warned, “Do not explain that to her. She has enough weapons in her arsenal as it is.”

“Uhh,” the councilman stuttered, taken aback. “I was going to apologize.”

“For?” I asked, arching a brow and releasing my smile.

“Well, it wasn’t my place to pick a punishment for his offenses.” Brent furrowed his brows at me. “I should have—should have waited for you to make a decision, but I lost my temper. I’m a little confused as to why you’re grinning at me.”

I waved his worry away. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m bummed that you beat me to the kill, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not angry. You made a quick decision, didn’t second guess yourself, and executed it beautifully. That’s an important skill to have when working with us.”

His brows plunged further, and I laughed. “I have a temper too, you know? I was trying to contain myself, be on my best behavior. But I’d already chosen to come back and kill him before we entered the meeting. I promised Palmer that I wouldn’t kill anyone here, and I wasn’t willing to break it.”

“So, Gary’s death is—”

“Deserved,” I interrupted, my voice lacking the cheerful tone I’d had. “Written in stone, published, trademarked. I just hadn’t picked the date out.”

“That’s what Mr. Lynch was saying when he told you the circumstances had invoked the stipulations?” Marsha inquired.

Palmer chuckled as I nodded. “I don’t do it often, but I’m one Hell of a negotiator. Lucifer’s twisted lessons could be blamed for that. One of the stipulations was if someone I cared about was harmed, then the contractual agreement between my mate and I would be deemed null and void.”

“Your promise was a contractual agreement?” Marsha giggled as she parroted my words. “That’s a very Nate thing to say.”

“Aye,” my mage agreed. “I had to argue my case, work out the fine details, and then explain what my plan B was for when things went wrong.”