I touch the hilts of my new daggers through the soft silk of my dress and stare at the looming garage beyond. I’m ready.

Memnon’s rising excitement trickles through our bond. Then lead on, my queen.

With that, I step through the ward. The magic skims along my skin, but there’s no resistance.

Thump.

I turn at the dull sound of a body hitting a wall. Memnon still stands on the other side of the ward, his hand splayed across it and his power fanning out over the magical wall’s surface.

Well, fuck. One of us can enter but the other cannot. We hadn’t anticipated this.

I try to step back to him, but this time, the ward bars me from returning. Witches’ tits, the ward has trapped me inside.

Memnon studies the magical wall separating us.

I can shatter this one, but once I do, the Fortunas will be aware of it, and the fighting will likely begin.

He doesn’t sound upset about that prospect.

I run my teeth along my lower lip. I don’t think we have time for a fight, not if I want to find Sybil before midnight.

Can you give me a three-minute head start? I say.

The sorcerer hesitates. You were never meant to go in there alone, he says. We don’t know what’s waiting for us.

I sense his conflicted emotions down our bond. He believes in my strength more than anyone else, but he’s also fanatic about my safety.

I feel the sands of the hourglass counting down.

I’ll be okay for three minutes, I tell him.

Death can come in an instant, Memnon says. I’ve watched you nearly die before, est amage, after I brought you into battle. A muscle in his jaw jumps. You are powerful and more than capable, but…that memory is always there, at the back of my mind. And it’s there right now.

I place my hand against his splayed one. You trained me how to fight a long time ago. The lessons are still there. I will be okay.

The words are supposed to be reassuring, but if anything, Memnon only looks like he has more to lose now.

He clenches his jaw, then nods. Two minutes, he amends. That’s all I’m giving you before I break this ward down and come after you.

Two minutes.

I nod and swivel around, scanning the space for the elevators.

Wait, est amage.

I pause, turning back.

Memnon’s gaze is fierce. Cities can burn and centuries can pass and none of it means anything to me without you. So stay safe, my queen. And remember—stab first, ask questions later.

A feeling rises in me. I love⁠—

His eyes flash.

The rest of the sentence snags in my throat.

I’ll be safe, I say instead.

Then I turn and run.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 47

Not even thirty seconds have gone by before I hear a sound like shattering glass. I glance around me at the various parked cars when a wave of magic throws me forward. I catch myself on a concrete pylon.

What was that? I ask Memnon.

The sound of me changing my mind.

Fuck, did he knock out the ward already?

You were supposed to give me a two-minute head start. It was a paltry enough amount of time as it was.

Yes, but then I decided I’m not going to let my queen face our foes alone.

Memnon. We had a moment there and everything.

Memnon jogs over to my side, his shoes clicking against the ground. It was a good moment too, he agrees.

The pound of footfalls heading our way interrupts our exchange.

Hide, Memnon commands me, using a tone of voice he only reserves for battle.

Without thinking, I duck behind a nearby car.

I narrow my gaze at the sorcerer, who still stands out in the open. Did you have to use that tone on me?

It was effective. I wonder what would happen if we tried it in the bedroom…

I’d get violent, I say.

Well now, consider me intrigued.

Memnon’s magic billows out of him before I have a chance to respond. I hear two bodies fall.

It’s clear, Selene.

I step out just as he’s bending over two fallen guards, his magic flowing over their faces. It’s likely he’s altering their memories.

Memnon straightens, then juts his chin ahead of us. Elevators are that way.

The parking garage is unnervingly quiet as the two of us head toward them. Aside from those two guards, no one else has come to see why one of the Equinox’s outer wards was broken. That can’t be accidental, can it?

When I catch sight of the elevators, I tense. In front of them is another ward, this one a translucent crimson color filled with row after row of curling glyphs. This ward isn’t even trying to blend in. It’s meant to scare off trespassers.

What do you think this one does?

Memnon tilts his head to the side. I don’t know, but there’s some dark magic involved in it. He points to a streak of black.

I step closer, studying the lines of what must be a curse.

Memnon reaches out and touches it.

Son of a swine, he curses in Sarmatian, his hand recoiling. I watch in horror as the skin along the back of his hand splits from the tip of his finger up to his wrist. The lines of the wound spread, branching out along the initial slice as they crawl up his forearm.

I catch his arm, my magic rushing out of my palm. “Begone poisoned death that corrupts the spirit.” The incantation comes out in English, not its original Mochica, but I say the spell with conviction. “With love, I destroy you.”

As I watch, the curse disintegrates, the oily magic burning away until all that’s left is a line of bilious smoke. My magic lingers for several more seconds, resealing the cuts and healing the open wounds.

When I look up, Memnon is staring wondrously at my lips.

You remembered the curse-breaking spell, he says.

I’ve got a decent memory now.

Abruptly, he leans forward and kisses me. Thank you.

I’ve only just tasted his lips when he pulls away.

Brace yourself.

He turns from me, and I only catch the spark of power in his eyes before he slams his fist into the crimson ward.

CRACK!

The ward shatters, the energy from it throwing me back. Memnon catches my arm and saves me from falling.

Two wards broken. If the Fortunas hadn’t been aware of an attack tonight, now they surely are.

We better move fast, the sorcerer says down our bond.

The two of us head to the elevators, and I slap the down button.

I gather my magic as I wait, sure that once the doors open, supernaturals are going to pour out of it. But when it dings open, it is ominously empty. There are no people, no wards—nothing at all beyond gleaming metallic walls and another set of doors at the back of the elevator.

This is too easy, I say.

Hmm, Memnon muses.

For the first time tonight, I sense the sorcerer’s misgivings.

Ready yourself, Empress. Our enemies know we’re here, and they’re waiting for us.

With that, Memnon strides into the elevator.

I hesitate only a split second longer, mentally preparing myself for whatever battle lies beyond these doors. Then I gather my courage and follow Memnon in.

The elevator is spacious and elegant, but once the doors close, I feel like I’m trapped in a coffin.

I stare at the floor numbers, eager to be out of this box. There are sixty-two numbered floors, plus some levels marked L and G and P that for the sake of time I have to assume are not of interest to us. Then there are the subterranean floors. Naturally, the building can’t just have one basement, it has to have three. I panic and hit the buttons for them all.