Chapter 39
Yesterday,I woke as one person.
Today, I am another.
I feel a hardness to me, one that wasn’t there before. If yesterday, I was exposed and vulnerable, today, new armor has grown back. The world exists on one side of it, and on the other…the only things that exist within that armor are me and my bonds.
Memnon must notice this change because I’ve caught him studying me a few times since we’ve woken up, a curious look on his face, like he’s trying to figure me out.
Nero sticks to me like glue.
There are a thousand things the sorcerer and I need to discuss, but right now, all I want is some semblance of normalcy to follow the nightmare of last night.
I pad into the kitchen, opening up cupboards and making myself at home. Since I started living here, cookies and crackers, chips and granola bars have filled up what originally was a bare pantry.
Today, there’s cereal.
I raise an eyebrow when I take a long look at the various colorful boxes that were definitely made with kids in mind.
After a moment, I pull out one of them. “Is this what you think of me?” I ask, holding the box up.
Memnon lifts his chin. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
I give him a look as I close the pantry door. It’s annoying how accurately he has me pegged. My heart might have iced over, but I will always have a soft spot for colorful, oversugared cereal.
“I couldn’t buy the one with those round chocolate balls,” he adds, grabbing a bowl and spoon. “It looked too much like goat shit,” he says, setting the items on the table.
“I’ve never once considered that in my life,” I say, watching him move to the refrigerator. Since last night, he’s pulled on some loose-fitting pants, but his torso remains gloriously, distractingly bare.
“I will not feed my queen food that’s offensive to look at,” he says, opening the refrigerator door. “Now sit down and let me serve you.”
I cringe at that word. Serve.
“I can do it myself,” I say, carrying the box of cereal over to the table.
“Believe it or not, my queen, I want to do this.” Memnon comes to my side and sets the milk down. “Stop assuming otherwise.”
Memnon has me sit there while he pours my cereal, then milk, into my bowl.
I stare down at it. “Who takes care of you?” I ask offhandedly.
“Hmm?” he says. He’s already drifting away, moving to the stove where a teapot rests.
I turn away from my breakfast and toward my soul mate. “Who takes care of you?” I repeat.
He glances up, meeting my gaze.
The answer is clear.
No one.
We used to take care of each other, and he had family and friends and a kingdom to give him whatever he needed. But that’s all gone now.
Though my mind still recoils from what happened last night, I force myself to remember the police officers, the dead bodies…
There’s a trail of evidence Memnon left behind when he came for me. He saved me from a nightmarish situation, and he might’ve inadvertently gotten himself into one. And despite his staggering power, not even Memnon is omnipotent.
I feel that armor I woke up with, and I feel our bond within it.
I shake my head as I look at him. “That changes today. From this moment on, I also take care of you.”
This puts me on the wrong side of the law. Shit, it puts me on the wrong side of a lot of things. I don’t care.
Memnon gazes at me, and I don’t think he breathes. I can feel a sharp, painfully sweet emotion through our bond. I know from experience it’s one that cannot be formed into words.
My own emotions get lodged in my throat. I don’t want this to be a big deal. I just want this to be the way things are between us: from now on, we take care of each other. It’s not just one way.
My magic drifts out of me, a tendril of it reaching for one of the cupboards and withdrawing a bowl. Another rope of it opens a drawer and removes a spoon. Both items float back to the table and clatter onto the spot next to me. My power pushes out a chair.
“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.