Page 87 of Mage Massacres

18

Sloane

Saturday, June 13th

Late Morning

I wasted no time, impulsively stomping up the three brick stairs to kick in the wooden door. Briggs and Vaughn pulled me back before my foot connected. Palmer quirked a brow at me as he waved his hand over the door handle, unlocking it to give us silent entry.

The stench of old fear wafted around us, causing me to gag on the odor, but I pushed through, following the trail it left behind.

We walked down a narrow hallway, a set of worn stairs on our right, and stopped at a weakly sealed doorway. Palmer nodded to Vaughn. The two of them ran their fingers along the frame until blue and orange swirls filled the thin wooden surface.

The door was warded with a mixture of magic, and when it didn’t break for them, I glared at the ceiling. If I could mix my magic, then surely I could un-mix this.

Either that or I was blowing the whole building away.

Fuck the consequences.

As they continued their work, I turned to Briggs and Stone. “Catch me if that ward bites. I don’t want a repeat of the warehouse last week.”

I flattened my hand, placing my palm gently on the exposed ward. My arm tensed all the way to my shoulder, tremors violently wracking my body as I refused to be thrown by the light magic again.

I focused on the patterns, tugging at the strands until I found the end of the blue magic. I began tediously unweaving it from the tangle of orange as if I were untying a complicated knot.

The task was taking too long, but the more progress I made, the more the magic strands shortened. The ward was paper thin by the time Palmer told me to stop.

“How did you know to do that?”

“I didn’t. It looked like a knot, so I untangled it, un-mixed the powers. Isn’t that what you guys were talking about yesterday? Mesh the powers together and pull them apart?”

“Yep,” Stone whispered, taking the lead with inaudible footsteps.

The unease was back, filling my stomach with anxious butterflies. I cursed myself for leaving the hounds behind, but the space was too cramped to have them with us. They had stayed with Miller. Cronus and Arwen were lending the night witch extra power as she continued to scry for Annette.

But the crystal scrying hadn’t helped us find her, and neither had tracking spells. We didn’t have anything material-wise to assist in the search, though. They were getting nowhere fast.

I had my fingers crossed that Annette hadn’t figured out my magic tracker and set us up.

Stone and I stuck to the natural shadows as we quietly traversed the staircase. Flickering lights led us down, but when we reached the bottom, there was nothing except a tiny, enclosed space. I couldn’t even call it a room. The walls were lined with bricks, though we could barely move around each other.

As my demon studied the walls, I closed my eyes and stretched out my senses. I could feel her and three other essences; a mage, a mage hybrid, and one that felt familiar, but I couldn’t name why.

I opened my eyes as Stone leaned against the wall and tumbled through. In a panic, I shoved myself into the glamoured entrance of... a basement?

“I don't think these buildings have basements, Love,” Palmer answered my thoughts, his voice sounding perplexed.

“The Nashville estate doesn’t have a full basement on blueprints,” I responded. “That doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“Link us together,” York suggested. “We’ve been quiet enough that she may not have noticed us yet.”

My guys filed in behind us as Stone and I glanced around. I tugged them all into my mind. Audible pops echoed in my head as they each connected. I could have dropped to my knees in relief when they didn’t all talk at the same time.

“Give us some credit, Trouble.”

I huffed at Novak, but I couldn’t hide the quick grin in his direction.

A muffled scream ricocheted around us, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint the exact direction from which it came. The unease in my stomach ramped up. Goosebumps spread across my arms as I whipped my head left and right.