Page 123 of Mage Massacres

Lesley Squiers was curious. She wanted to know where my father was, why Palmer and I had arrived together, if we were mates or friends. Her inquiries were more on the nosy side, though I could see where some of the information might be helpful. She could stay too, as long as she did her job.

Sean Dunne seemed solid. He was frustrated that he didn’t know about the failed security. It wasn’t his fault; however, that didn’t stop him from placing some of the blame on himself. He had been in the dark about most of the issues, only getting back to town right before we arrived. He’d been in Spain visiting his daughter.

Brent Rickard was where things got sketchy. He was undoubtedly loyal to my mother, but he didn’t care for my father. His studious gaze made my skin itch as he noted similarities between Amelia and me. Devastation pushed to the forefront of his mind as he recalled the day my father told him that she was missing.

Gary Brown didn’t know it, but he was a dead man walking. He was so sure Alric was the victim in this situation that it made me nauseous. The security around the guild was down because he’d disabled it. He knew my father was in the fae realm and where the rest of the abducted mages were.

I took the pen from Palmer’s hand, jotting down references to the places that flitted across Gary’s mind.

The noise grew silent as I sat straight in my chair, the smile on my face falling away. They’d argued enough. Their internal conversations had brought forth plenty of fuel for my brewing fire.

I was ready to address them.

“Were you going to explain how three guards ended up dead in the lobby, Gary? Or should I fill them in?”

“I don’t know how the guards died.”

“I don’t disagree with that statement,” I admitted. “But you do know how their killers got into the guild.”

“Mute everyone except Brown,” I directed Palmer, my face a blank, albeit pleasant mask as I told him a brief summary of my plan.

I gently pulled the other council members into Gary’s mind. I knew as soon as I triggered the memories, he’d picture the moments. His thought process would show them what he’d done.

“Tell us how you disabled the security features, how Alric talked you through taking them down but didn’t tell you that he was actually getting you to tear them apart.”

His mind flashed to hitting the speakerphone button on his screen before sliding his cell phone into his shirt pocket. Alric’s voice echoed softly in the darkness of the basement maintenance room as Gary shoved his hands into the barrier. The small space was illuminated by the bright violet magic, causing him to squint before it crumbled around him.

“I didn’t touch the security,” he snarled.

I shrugged at his denial, feeling the moment each council member realized they were seeing his memories.

“Tell us how you helped Alric and his daughter capture mages under the guild’s nose, how you knew they were siphoning power from supernatural creatures around the world but turned a blind eye to it.”

A fae crystal lay in his open hand, his thumb idly rubbing across its surface as Annette—Anahien—explained how the magic was stolen. Burgundy hair filled his senses along with the purr of her voice as they cast trap spells in downtown Belfast. Gary wrote four addresses on a piece of paper, explaining that they were in his name so they wouldn’t be traced back to the Moore’s.

“I’ve heard rumors of power farms,” he confessed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “There are none here.”

“Tell us how Alric asked you to set up Brent, how he knew Councilman Rickard might be swayed to vote him as the High Priest. Tell us how you knew he lied when he told his sob story of Nathaniel King’s death.”

“There is no lie,” Gary shouted. “Nate is dead, and you’re to blame. You couldn’t control your anger. You lashed out, and you killed your father.”

Smoke rolled through the air as Brent Rickard puffed his cigar, not inhaling but enjoying the taste. Alric strolled over to their table, and Gary teased him about his stolen identity, wanting to know when he would stop pretending to be an angel. Their guest didn’t understand. So it was okay to mention some things as long as they didn’t spill the truth in full.

After their second pint, they ordered a round of scotch and listened to Alric confess that Nate’s body had been found. He said they hadn’t determined a cause of death, but what they did find was pointing to the Kings’ only child. When Brent excused himself to go to the bathroom, Alric had asked if there was any way to sway another vote in his favor.

They laughed about Nate walking straight into the Winter Queen’s dungeon to rescue his mate. They spoke of the letters Anahein had left me, leading me down the same path as my mother so no one would stand in Alric’s way. As Brent approached the table, they decided to see if he had any valuable input on how best to capture me and judge my crimes.

“Something you said earlier keeps running through my mind,” I divulged, pursing my lips as I met his cold stare. “Palmer and I were standing outside the door when you called me a murderous brat.”

His eyes widened the tiniest fraction. I would have missed it if I wasn’t hyper-focused on every breath and motion his body made.

“Yesterday, Anahein Summers visited us.” I nodded my head in Palmer’s direction. “She said, and I quote, “You might be a murderous brat, but even you wouldn’t kill your own father.” and she was right. Now, her statement makes a little more sense, don’t you think?”

“She wasn’t just talking about Raguel,” Palmer muttered, glancing at me. “She was talking about Nate too.”

I smiled at my mate, then at the rest of the council members. Brent glared at Gary, but the others were gaping.

“Today is a fine day to start the uphill battle,” I whispered, primarily to myself, though they all heard me.