“Sit,” I say. “Come eat with me.”

I force down an apology that wants to bubble up at the command. Instead, I grab the cereal box and pour him a bowl of it while he takes a seat.

He grimaces at the colorful cereal, but when his attention moves to me, Memnon looks happy. Really happy. My heart leaps at his reaction.

“What happened to the bodies last night?” I ask as I pour out milk into his cereal. “The ones inside the building?”

Memnon tentatively dips a spoon into his breakfast, looking highly suspicious of the rainbow cereal.

“I left them there,” he says. “The Fortunas can clean up their own mess this time.”

He scoops up a spoonful of the cereal and brings it to his lips. After a moment’s hesitation, he takes a bite.

Immediately, he makes a face, and I can tell he is fighting to get that mouthful down his throat. “What on Api’s good earth is this?”

Memnon looks like it’s personally offended him.

“Cereal.”

“I love you, Selene, but this—this is unholy shit.”

I smile at that, oddly tickled by his reaction. “Fine. You don’t have to eat it.”

Memnon pushes the bowl away.

As he’s about to stand, I place a hand on his inked forearm. “What about the Politia and the human police? Both are probably looking for you.”

He takes my hand and threads his fingers through mine. I stare at our entwined hands, his bronze skin against my paler tone. A thrilling sensation courses through me at the sight.

“They can look. I am not worried about them,” he says. Memnon gives my hand a squeeze. “Remember, there is only one law humans ever follow: might makes right. I don’t plan on being dragged away by cops—magical or otherwise.”

I’m still worried, and I have to fight the urge to go to him now and wrap myself in his arms, afraid he will slip beyond my reach the way he once did.

“There are, however, a few final things I must take care of today,” He says. “I’ll be out for a little while.”

“You’re going back?” I say sharply. There are so many things we haven’t even begun to discuss, but at the top of that list is the fact that Memnon probably incriminated himself to his employers. If he goes back…who knows what they’ll do to him? There’s a chance they’re already looking for him.

Memnon gives his head a shake. “No, I’m sure after last night, I’ve been compromised. Truthfully, I’ve been preparing to leave the Fortunas’ employment long before this. But I need to tie up a few loose ends.”

I squeeze his hand harder. “You’ll be safe?”

He squeezes it back. “For you, est amage, I will be.”

Memnon and I still haven’t spoken about what we learned last night when he takes me via ley line to Henbane. It needs to be discussed, but both of us have other tasks we must handle first.

I’ve come to the decision that until the new moon, I will stay with Memnon. My own identity could’ve been compromised last night, and though Juliana is gone, her family and the criminal ring they run are not. Like Memnon, today is mainly about tying up loose ends.

I left my phone, wallet, and keys in my room, and I need to grab them and anything else I might need for the next week. There’s also a personal matter I want to deal with.

Memnon and I step off the ley line and into the empty, darkened crypt. The candles around us have barely sparked to life when Memnon grabs my arm and reels me back to him.

I have only a moment to look up at him before his mouth crashes into mine. The sorcerer gathers me to him like a man starving for touch, connection.

Reflexively, my lips move against his, but as my mind catches up, I fall into the kiss, just as consumed by it as he is.

Memnon’s hands are squeezing my arms, and now they’re tangled in my hair as his tongue strokes mine. My own hands have moved to his back, and my nails dig into his flesh. There’s a maelstrom of emotions moving between the two of us. My loyalty, his love, these treacherous circumstances that are binding us together.

Not so long ago, I hated Memnon with a passion. Now…now that hate seems to be a very, very distant thing.

Memnon rips his mouth away. “Stay fucking safe today, est amage.”

It’s an easy promise to agree to. Still⁠—

“I will if you will.”

“Done.”

His eyes drop to my mouth, and as though he cannot help himself, he leans back in and retakes my lips, kissing me with a rough desperation.

“Sweeter than honey,” he murmurs against my mouth. He forces himself away, backing up. “I plan on tasting the rest of you tonight,” he vows, a searing look in his eyes.

I feel my skin flush.

Even in the dim light, he must notice it, because he says, “Love the way you blush, little witch. I hope you do that again when I eat you out like dinner later.”

“Memnon—” I admonish.

But he’s already stepped back onto the ley line and vanished from sight.

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CHAPTER 40

I enter my residence hall, no longer fearful of the enemies housed under this roof. I have an ease—and a resolve—I didn’t a day ago.

Inside the house, a row of bags are piled in the foyer, and as I head up the stairs, the witches I pass appear to be packing or speaking in low, somber tones. The atmosphere of the place is strange and unsettling.

I step off the stairs on the fourth floor of the house and head down a wing I haven’t much visited. The buzzing lights flicker on and off in their sconces as I pass by room after room, as though the magic itself can sense a shift in me.

As I sidestep yet another pile of bags stacked in the hallway, I begin to wonder if this exodus has to do with Juliana’s death. But she couldn’t have possibly had so many witches bonded to her, could she?

The hallway at the end of the fourth floor hooks right, and beyond the turn, only two rooms remain, one to my left and one to my right.

The smell of formaldehyde thickens the air, and I feel bad for the witch on the right. It reeks back here.

I approach the door on my left and open it without knocking.

Inside, the first thing I see are shelves and shelves of mason jars, each one containing bits and pieces of zoological anatomy. One jar has eyeballs; another contains toads. I rip my gaze away before I can figure out the rest. Resting on the desk beneath them is a taxidermy cat—one that’s in rough shape. A massive vulture perches on the stuffed creature’s back, and as I watch, it pecks at the thing.

Well, that answers the question of how the cat got to be in such poor condition.

I don’t have time to take in the rest of the room before I hear a gasp.

My gaze moves to the floor, where Olga looks busy putting together a skeleton of some animal.

“Selene?” Her eyes flick over me. “What are you doing here?”

I don’t bother with niceties. “I know you gave me a spiked drink last night.” I step into the room and close the door behind me. “I wonder if you can guess what happened after that.”

She shrinks back. “I don’t know what⁠—”

“I fell off my broom, broke a few bones,” I say it casually as I step deeper into the room, as though the memory doesn’t hurt me. “Then I was collected.”

I stare down at her, letting the silence settle a bit.

“I imagine you don’t want to know the next part,” I say, crouching down in front of her, fully aware I’m being a menace. I don’t care. I want her to see the unshed tears in my eyes. I want her to see my horror and my pain. “I was taken to a room, and I was tortured, then bound to a psychopath against my will, then tortured some more.”

“I—I don’t…”

“I know you were bonded,” I say, speaking over her, “and I know you were made to do many things against your will.”

Olga blinks a few times, and I see her tears well.