Page 11 of Mage Massacres

“Palmer?” a female called, her tone cautious. “Is that you?”

“Who else would it be, Millie?” a male replied, sounding aggravated.

“Devil help me,” she whispered viciously. “If that isn’t Palmer, I’m going to choke you, Murphy.”

Any other day, I might have been excited to meet them. But I kept walking, not even glancing into the dingy living area until I could at least smile at them without forcing it.

I needed to kick this funk to do that. I didn’t know how, just that I was fucking determined to get in a better mood.

Determined to right my wrong.

Determined to kill the angel.

And so godsdamned determined to get on with my life—a new life with my mates.

If we weren’t so busy trying to save—Who were we trying to save?

I was losing sight of the goal amongst the chaos in my mind. The answer was simple; the supernatural species. The same creatures who didn’t like me, who feared me. The people who didn’t appreciate all the fucking work I put into... Not killing them when I was having a bad day.

I griped to myself, moving deeper into the old estate. The wooden walls lacked the shine I remembered, but the antique fixtures and paintings were the same. I began thinking about the what-ifs again, this time searching for a silver lining.

If anything, I was warmer after moving away from the door, so there was that. I still needed to reassess what I was wearing, though. I called a pair of tights to me, loving the immediate coverage. Then I blew out a breath, snapping my attention to the red butterfly hugging locks of my hair near my right ear.

“You just had to chew up my docs, huh?” I asked Helios quietly. “I’ll have to buy another pair now. The silver lining there is that they’re cheaper in the UK than the US, I think...”

The four butterflies clinging to me fluttered with pent-up energy, ready for a dismissal that I sort of dreaded. I released them anyway, knowing it was better to have them roaming the exterior than holding my hand.

Making a frustrated noise in the back of my throat, I opened the next door that I came to. Then I cursed violently as I glared around my missing mother’s office.

“Can the universe shit on me any harder today?”

I scrubbed my hands over my face aggressively, sighing as my eyes heated with impending tears.

“I take that back,” I muttered. “I should be bringing positive energy to myself, yeah?”

I pushed the door closed behind me with a light click. I knew it was quiet, but it pinged off the walls like a nearby gunshot, and the ringing in my ears started all over again.

“The universe loves me.”

I repeated the mantra three times before straightening my shoulders and taking another step into the room.

“I am worthy. I am generous. I am good...ish.”

3

York

Tuesday, June 9th

Afternoon

I stopped outside the living room, watching as Sloane continued down the hall without so much as a missed step. Briggs hung back, standing beside me as he glanced between the doorway to the guys and the corner our mate disappeared around.

He stuck his hand out, not letting me walk away. “Don’t you feel that?”

“I do.”

“She’s so hostile,” he rumbled, turning back to the doorway. “I’m worried about her.”