Page 56 of Mage Massacres

Things had been too serious for too long. It weighed me down, making me bitchy. I craved the thrill, the risks I had taken when it was just me that I needed to look after.

I needed more fun in my life, another rush to help me forget.

“So,” I began, meeting Palmer’s stormy eyes as I tried to distract myself. “What are these guys doing here?”

“Murphy called them last night. We thought they might be able to perk Mills up.”

“Fair point,” I conceded. “But killing her ex eased some of her stress. How did they get here?”

My mage rubbed his hand across his forehead as his brother gawked at me. “She knows she can’t keep—”

“That’s the thing, Murph,” Palmer divulged. “She can keep doing it. He was a shit person, so Sloane doesn’t care.”

“Uhm,” the tall, brunette guy—Joyner—waved his hand. “I’m a wyvern. That’s how we got here. I mean, after we landed on several of these other small islands.”

“Seems awfully convenient to be in the middle of nowhere, in this big, empty house all by yourselves…” Bishop trailed off, waggling his brows at Palmer.

I hooked my thumb, pointing in his direction. “Just for clarification, I can’t kill him, right?”

Briggs chuckled. “Afraid not, Barbie.”

Vaughn pulled me closer, tilting his head down to whisper in my ear, “If we gave them a couple of hours to forget about it, I could help you make it look like an accident.”

“We could throw his body in the Void,” I suggested. “No one would find him then.”

“I want to help,” Stone muttered from my other side.

“Listen, Fairy,” Bishop smarted. “We can solve this real quick.”

“You don’t want to fight with me,” Vaughn murmured.

His words were quiet, but cold. When I shivered from his tone, Novak smirked at me. I shrugged, not giving a fuck that the threat turned me on.

The blonde scoffed obnoxiously. “Yeah. Right. Can’t fight the precious fae. Devil forbid he walk away with a busted lip or a bloody nose.”

“You’re always trying to start shit with Vaughn, Bishop. You’re just mad that you can’t piss him off like you do the rest of us.” My wolf cocked his head, ready to say more.

I glanced at him and Palmer, watching as Briggs nudged his shoulder and my mage shook his head.

I started a partial shift, feeling my jaw extend to house all the elongated teeth my demonic form gave me. Then I snapped them at Bishop as my top lip curled. He was getting on my nerves, and I was still moody.

“Whoa,” he stated quietly, holding his hands up as he backed away. But he squinted, leaning his upper body closer. “Wait. Let me see your teeth again. I wanna copy those.”

My brows wrinkled, completely thrown by his statement. “What?”

“Shapeshifter.” He nodded, his tone smug as he transformed into… Me. “Sup?”

I rolled my shoulders back, smirking at him—me—as I pulled my hoodie off.

Palmer sighed. “Don’t do it.”

“Why?” I sassed, watching the shapeshifter tilt his head in confusion. “I fight with myself all the time. Now, I can really do it. Plus, he seems to be looking for an outlet. Two birds and all that bullshit.”

“You know she’s going to.” Briggs’ rumbling laughter filled the sitting room as I swung slowly at Bishop to gauge his reaction time.

“Hey, now,” he called, sounding just like me as he took two steps back. “I don’t want to fight you.”

I gasped loudly, smiling at him before blanking my expression. “Cute, but that’s not something I’d say. Are you limited to only copying my appearance, or can you copy my power too?”