Page 77 of Mage Massacres

“Doesn’t matter, Princess.”

My patient grin made her frown, but I couldn’t properly heal anyone if my mind was brimming with anarchy. I needed to remain level-headed. Chaos and order would mend Pete. Mostly.

There were some things that even magic couldn’t fix.

“Can you reverse or recreate it while I’m healing him?”

“I don’t know,” she stressed, her voice rising before she took a deep breath. “I haven’t seen much violet magic, but I felt the attack when it hit Pete in his memory.”

“It’s from a dark mage; either a night witch or a warlock,” Palmer advised. “All we need to identify it is a small pinch. Grab it and remove it from him.”

“Is it going to blow me into the fucking ocean?” she snarked at the mage. “Because if it is, then I’d rather take it all in one go. Maybe I’ll see Scotland while I’m taking an impromptu dip in cold water.”

His expression was caught between a smirk and a grimace. “I don’t know, Love. The water isn’t that cold, and Scotland sucks, in my opinion. But Stone can’t tell them apart, so maybe I’m just biased.”

“You know where we should go?” Stone questioned, cutting his eyes to the vampire.

He waggled his brows. “A nude beach.”

The demon leaned forward, squinting at Novak. “No. I mean, yes, but, no.”

“We know you don’t have an issue parading around naked,” Briggs told him before pointing to himself. “I’m not so keen on a bunch of creeps watching Barbie sunbathe.”

“Same,” Stone agreed.

I followed Sloane’s magical trail, letting my eyes fall shut to observe her progress. She’d pulled a fraction of the darkness away from Pete, but it began to fight back, snapping at her as tar-like bubbles burst.

“If I could just get under it,” she muttered, shoving two attacks in different directions.

The magic chomped down, hurling us both backward as it kicked our power from Pete’s body. We both lay on the unforgiving ground, heaving for breath from the sudden exertion. Being forcefully removed was a bigger shock to our systems than spending hours using magic.

“What the fuck?” the vampire squealed.

Someone groaned, low and drawn out, not wholly conscious. Sloane was crouched on the balls of her feet in the blink of an eye. I bolted upright as her entire body tensed.

We were all speechless, bewildered, flummoxed…

“Just say we’re confused, Fae,” Novak hissed, trepidation lacing his voice.

“Is he alive?” York whispered.

Briggs nodded. “Yep.”

Sloane slid across the ground, reaching Pete’s side before we could stop her. She peered at his face, checking his heartbeat at his wrist and neck, even though we could all hear it thumping against his ribcage.

There was another foreign magic inside Pete, too. It had taken me a minute to recognize it, but now that I did, I thought I might know where to find the answers to his curse.

The land called to him, the same way the fae realm called to me.

“Sloane,” Palmer murmured, studying her more than the pedmar—giant.

“The connection you have with Pete… Is it similar to the one you share with Jack or your hounds?” he queried. “Or is it closer to the bonds you share with us?”

“It’s—” She paused, gazing at Pete’s face affectionately. “It’s nothing like my connection to the boys, but it’s also not a mate bond, Palmer. I think it’s closer to my connection with Jack, though there is something different about the feeling now.”

She shrugged. “I just can’t see it yet.”

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