Page 35 of Mage Massacres

“Watch him,” I commanded.

I kneeled to inspect the grounded intruder, and he sneered at me as he tried to pry Stone’s foot away from his torso.

“You’re not going to be any help, are you?” I asked softly.

“Fuck you,” the drunk man spat.

The guy I was talking to snapped his teeth at me. I stood, shrugging with indifference at his decision.

His death meant nothing to me.

I nodded my head to Stone, silently telling him to remove his foot from the man’s chest. As my demon lifted his boot, I stomped on the man’s throat, crushing his windpipe and the top of his spine.

He’d been a mage-shifter hybrid—or the other way around—but it didn’t matter. That was a sufficient death for most varieties of shifters.

“What are we going to do with this guy?” Vaughn asked, strolling over to stand beside me.

My fae had frozen the mage hybrid’s feet to the floor. The man was frantically trying to find a spell to melt or destroy the ice, but nothing worked for him.

“I’m going to kill him too.”

“We could question him first,” Palmer suggested, defaulting to his sarcastic tone.

“I’ve been in his head. His thoughts are muddled; he’s been drinking. He won’t be useful.”

My mage marched over to me, his stormy eyes narrowed as he hissed, “You don’t know that he won’t be useful, and you can’t just kill him. Someone needs to be turned in for the guild to account for all the death and destruction here.”

“Why not?” I challenged, not elaborating about what I was asking.

“Ya can’t kill everyone,” Palmer repeated, frustration thickening his accent.

I raised my brows at his tone. I wasn’t in the mood to be bossed around. I’d kill him if I wanted to, and I’d be damned if my mate was going to stand in my way right now.

He cleared his throat. “You can kill everyone, but you shouldn’t.”

“Name one reason why I shouldn’t, and I’ll consider not doing it.”

“We need to see what information we can get from him.”

I turned to the male frozen to the floor. “You came to get Alric Moore’s records. Yes or no?”

He didn’t say a word, though he didn’t need to. His mind replayed the phone conversation he’d had a few hours ago while he and his buddies had been drinking. The single task was given to him by a woman.

“That’s what I thought,” I told the useless intruder before facing Palmer. “Is there any other information we need from him? Would you like me to bring you into his mind so you can hear all the nasty thoughts he’s had? He’s overflowing with filth.”

“No,” he dragged out, clenching his jaw.

“Then I’m going to kill him.”

“I’ll tell you things,” the male mockingly pleaded. “Whatever you want to know. I have a mate and kids.”

I narrowed my gaze on him as I searched his thoughts. “I’m inside your head, you drunken idiot. I know you’re lying.”

“Don’t kill me,” he shouted, his eyes softening as he tried to compel me.

Palmer and I turned to the last henchman, speaking at the same time, “Shut up.”

“I am,” I stated simply, tightening my lips as I pondered the how part of killing my newest victim.