Only that ultimately, the Fortuna family is behind them, Memnon says down our bond.

Somehow, in the course of our conversation, either Memnon has scooted toward me, or I have moved closer to him.

And now as Memnon speaks, his hand strokes up and down my spine, and I feel myself arching into that touch just a little, and my nipples have pebbled, and I’m fantasizing about what it would be like to just give in to the monster, once and for all. And this is all so supremely fucked up because we are discussing murders.

There’s something big going on in the Equinox Building, Memnon continues, but I’ve been unable to figure out what it is. Patrick doesn’t know, nor do the other members of his team. And I haven’t been able to get close enough to the Fortunas themselves. Luca in particular doesn’t let anyone get near him, not even his own security team.

My mate’s hand is still moving up and down my back. A residual flare of lust bubbles up at the touch. Those hands were all over me last night, drawing out my pleasure like it was magic.

I clear my throat. “Will you tell me if anything else comes up?”

With his free hand, Memnon reaches out and lightly rubs my lower lip. “Command it of me and I will.”

“And if I don’t?” I ask, trying my damnedest to ignore his hand.

He drops his hand. “You’ll be forced to trust me then. Are you ready for that?”

The two of us stare at each other, and my pulse begins to race.

“I don’t know,” I admit. The fact that he gets anything but a flat-out no is gracious of me.

Memnon is quiet, and I realize our little murder chat is over.

Now that there’s no longer the somber topic to distract either of us, I’m painfully aware once again of the fact that we’re naked in a tiny bed, the smell of sex thick around us, and Memnon’s hands are stroking me like I’m a cat.

I stiffen, not sure what to do or how to handle this.

I should get away from him. Put some distance between us. I can barely even think when he’s this close.

Memnon leans forward and presses a kiss to my ear. Before I can bolt like a skittish deer, he wraps his arms around me and drags me down to the bed, rolling us a little so that I’m caged in his arms.

“I can hear some of your very loud thoughts, little witch,” he murmurs against my ear. “Let’s not make this awkward. If you want to keep me here, imprisoned in this room, so I can suck on your tits and play with your very abused pussy some more, I will gladly do so. We can even pretend you’re still under the thrall of that potion you drank.”

He nips my ear, and I make an outraged noise, both by his words and his bite.

“Or you’re going to send me away so you can get on with your day. But we’re not going to make this weird, okay?” he says, catching my eyes. “We did not fuck like animals last night to act like strangers today.”

I close my eyes. “Memnon,” I say, embarrassed all over again.

“And the gods know we didn’t survive the ages to be uncomfortable in each other’s presence.”

“Your point has been made,” I say, opening my eyes.

“Good.” He gives the tip of my nose a quick kiss, then releases me, moving off the bed.

I sit up, eyeing him like he’s some great predator. “I want you to leave,” I admit.

If he stays, I will probably cash in on those tit kisses, or worse, keep him in my bed and have my way with him until he’s fucked the forgiveness out of me.

Memnon rises out of my bed, gloriously naked. The dappled morning light lovingly showcases his powerful physique.

He’s mine. For the first time, that thought doesn’t taste so bitter. Instead, it takes my breath away.

The sorcerer’s hair is tousled from sleep and sex, which gives him an unguarded look. My fingers itch to thread themselves back in that hair so I might tug his head back and kiss his neck.

No, no, no, Selene. Lock those thoughts up. Last night was a one-time thing. That’s all.

I get out of bed and drag on a pair of stretchy shorts and a T-shirt. Across from me, Memnon pulls on his own shirt, and I wince a little when I see the massive stain at the bottom of it.

A one-time thing, I repeat like a mantra. Maybe if I say it enough, all the erotic highs and embarrassing lows that came with it will smooth away and I really will feel indifferent about the whole thing.

Once Memnon finishes dressing, he steps up to me and tilts my chin up. All thoughts of indifference vanish at that touch and the look in his eyes.

It’s impossible to be indifferent about Memnon.

“One last thing, Empress.”

“What?” I say, my gaze drifting down to his lips before I jerk my attention back to his eyes.

“Don’t share what we’ve been talking about with anyone else,” he says solemnly.

I think he’s not just referring to the murders but the spell circles too.

I stiffen. “I’m going to have to. I’m meeting with the lycanthropes tonight to discuss what I know.”

His eyebrows rise, the action tugging at his scar. “You have a meeting with them?”

The local pack offered me their friendship and protection after you framed me for murder.

Ah. Memnon has the grace to look a little uncomfortable.

Just be careful, he cautions, his expression growing hard. The Fortunas have eyes in a lot of places. If any of them discover that you are trying to pry their secrets free, I will have to butcher a lot more people to keep them from coming after you. I trust you don’t want all those…needless deaths.

I barely breathe. The sorcerer would do it too—he’s already killed entire armies. A few spies and criminals would be nothing to him, though they’d mean something to me. Those deaths would be on my head.

I could order you to not kill anyone, I say.

Memnon’s eyes begin to glow, a sure sign that I’ve touched a nerve. Do that and you’ll make me desperate to keep you safe. And, est amage, you don’t want me desperate, he warns.

I suppress a shiver. Beneath the surface of my soul mate lives a monster, one who loves me and little else. If Memnon believes he can’t kill those who are a threat to me, he might simply torture them endlessly or break their minds or bodies so completely death won’t matter. Or he might pick another tactic, one that forces my hand in some way.

I won’t leave you vulnerable, Memnon says, only driving his point home further. I cannot bear another Bosporus.

That final battle, he means. The one that began with a betrayal by his oldest friend and his closest aide.

The sorcerer leans in, then hesitates, waiting for me to command him to stop. When I don’t, I see a shadow of a smile a split second before his lips brush mine.

Last night will happen again, he vows. The words are spoken in Sarmatian, and I don’t think they were meant for me. They sound far too distant and quiet to be deliberate. Only next time, you’ll be mine in earnest.

His kiss deepens then, the action echoing his silent sentiment.

When Memnon pulls away, his eyes search my face. “Call to me whenever you need me next, Empress,” he says. “I’ll be around.”

He presses a final, chaste kiss to my lips, then leaves the room.

I sit down hard on my bed, just as the tree outside rustles. The next moment, Nero hops through the window, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

“Hey, have you been out there this whole time?” Shoot, now I feel a little bad.

His tail twitches as he leaps onto my bed.

“I wouldn’t lie there if I were you.” Those sheets are a biohazard at this point.

My familiar takes one whiff of them and dives back off the mattress. He stalks over to his own bed and plops down, giving me a mean look.

“What?” I say defensively. “I warned you that I would have boys over.”

His tail gives an agitated thump.