Page 127 of Mage Massacres

Palmer sighed playfully. “It’s already taken care of.”

He let the doors close once more, cutting the conversation off as we headed to the basement floor.

“Grim texted.”

“Oh?” I perked up, tucking myself under his arm.

“He said—since you haven’t responded to him—that we should reiterate to you that the Void isn’t your personal garbage disposal. But he wasn’t that nice about it.”

I snorted. “We? Do you guys have a group chat or something?”

He shrugged, glancing down at me with a mischievous smirk. “All this energy, huh? What else can we do with it?”

26

Sloane

Monday, June 15th

Night

Something prodded at my mind, touching the electric current that guarded my mental walls.

“Where are you, Sweetheart?” the male sang, but his accent was all wrong.

His steps were too light as he walked, his scent unfamiliar as it stirred in the stagnant air.

Even unconscious, the threat was evident. My demon alter took over, fading into the shadows of the cell to hide our vulnerable body.

“Godsdammit. I will not lose her again. Not when I’m this close,” his snarled words echoed in the man-made dungeon, disappearing as the cell across from me opened, and a body was dropped onto the dirty floor.

A high-pitched ring infiltrated the beginnings of my nightmare. The milky eyes of the fae king lingered in my mind as I sat up in the middle of Palmer’s bed.

My thoughts raced a mile a minute, not settling on one topic long enough to think it through. My skin tingled, leaving me with an itch I couldn’t quite scratch.

I searched the still-warm bed, hunting for my mage. His agitated voice floated from the sitting room.

“I don’t know why you’re calling me or what you think I can do about it… I’ll talk to her when she wakes up, but you made this mess… I said I’d talk to her. That’s it. I’m not helping you clean it up.”

I scrubbed at my face, trying to recall what had been bothering me, though all I could focus on was Palmer and his reply.

How long had he been awake, and how long had we been asleep?

He must have just left the bedroom, answering the phone after only one ring. The sun beamed across the floor, but that wasn’t an accurate estimation of time. Inside this suite, we were in Nashville. Outside the main door, we were in Northern Ireland.

After leaving the guild, we had come straight back to Amelia’s estate, exhausted, depleted, and thoroughly fucked. It had been late evening, the clouds darkening above us as the horizon shifted colors.

Palmer had fallen asleep as soon as he wrapped around me, but it had taken me longer to relax. I’d tossed and turned, too hot with the blanket on and too cold without it. I’d shed my clothing, attempting to find a happy medium.

And it had worked…

Until the nightmare started.

The details were fuzzy, and that worried me. I hadn’t dreamed of anything in weeks, but I always remembered.

I always remembered.

I launched out of bed, snatching Palmer’s discarded button down on my way to the sitting room in his suite. I opened the door in a rush, stopping in my tracks as my train of thought derailed.