Page 129 of Mage Massacres

“Whatever it is that you’re trying to say, just spit it out.”

He dropped his hand, his expression serious. “I think we should hire them to look for the rest of the Moore children. We need to know if any of them will be problematic in the future.”

I nodded in agreement. “I would rather not be caught with my dick in my hand, fumbling about as we attempt to narrow down who wants to kill us next.”

Palmer grinned at me. “With your dick in your hand?”

“My dick, your dick, their dick. Same thing.”

“Sure, Love,” he placated. “What do we say to Millie, though?”

“Ho-no,” I exclaimed, slashing an imaginary line between us with my hand. “That’s a you problem, not a we problem. What are you going to say to the pissy night witch who plays with bugs?”

He ran his fingers through his russet hair. “But you two are friends.”

“She’s your sister,” I shot back. “And Murphy shared a womb with her, so you guys can work that out.”

“The one time I really need you to take the lead,” he complained. “I can’t believe you’d throw me to the wolves.”

“Ants and bees,” I corrected, patting his forearm as I climbed to my feet. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there for moral support.”

Palmer sighed heavily, hanging his head as he followed me out of his suite into the drafty hallway. He scraped the toes of his shoes on the floor, thoroughly pouting in a way I’d yet to witness. It was cute and annoying, eventually grinding my nerves into nothing.

“Stop,” I quietly snapped. “You’re being dramatic.”

“You say that now,” he answered in warning. “We’ll see how you feel when she settles down.”

We rounded one of the corners in the maze that was Amelia’s estate. Murphy collided with me, nearly knocking me down before he grabbed my elbow. His kicked-puppy expression turned into shock as he apologized.

“I didn’t see you guys there. Sorry about tackling you.”

“It’s okay,” I told him. “We were just looking for you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, suspicion making him question us. “Why?”

“Murph, come with me to talk to Mills.”

“Fuck, no. That’s guaranteed death.” He turned on his heel to walk away as he continued, “I’d rather fight Lo than have centipedes crawl out of my—”

“You’re coming. Get over it,” Palmer interrupted, grabbing him by the shoulder of his shirt, dragging him behind us.

The warlock jerked out of his brother’s grasp. “I’m not saying a word to her until she chills out.”

“Then don’t,” my mage growled, knocking on the door to the guest room.

A few days ago, his siblings had found a tiny wing in Amelia’s estate, and this was my first time traversing the area. If I didn’t know I hadn’t been in this hall before, I’d swear we were standing in front of the office.

“What?” Miller barked, opening the door so fast she made the guys flinch.

“We need to talk, Mills,” Palmer started.

“Fine,” she agreed, glancing around us. “Are we talking here, in the hallway?”

His stormy gray eyes rolled to glare at the ceiling, but he didn’t reply.

His prayer for patience would fall on deaf ears today. The Devil didn’t grant wishes. Well, Stone might, but I wouldn’t. My mage had gotten himself into this conundrum, so he could get himself out of it.

“Lovely chat,” she drawled blandly when both Lynch brothers remained silent.