Текст книги "Bespelled"

Автор книги: Laura Thalassa

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

CHAPTER 38

The first thing I notice when I rouse is a sense of weightlessness, like a stone has been lifted off my chest.

I blink my eyes open and realize I’m cradled in Memnon’s arms, my head nestled against the crook of his neck. My body sways gently as he carries me.

Fearsome queen. Brave-hearted warrior, he murmurs down our bond, noticing that I’ve roused. You valiantly survived horrors tonight. I could not be prouder.

Horrors? I say groggily.

But then I turn my head just a little and take in a familiar room. There’s debris and smashed cardboard boxes and an overturned chair. Immediately, a shiver racks my body.

I fist a bit of Memnon’s shirt as I remember.

My gaze falls to the center of the room, where a massive pool of blood glistens around a dozen fleshy lumps that my eyes refuse to make sense of.

A hand cups my face, angling my head back to where it had been resting and shielding me from the sight.

She died slow, he reassures me.

I swallow thickly. Those lumps…those are Juliana. Or what’s left of her at least.

Revulsion claws up my throat. But it’s offset by that lightness in my chest. The bond Juliana forced on me…it’s gone. I can sense the hollowed-out space where it once was. With her death, it dissolved away.

Memnon did that.

I glance up at him as we exit the room and head down a sterile hallway, my heart suddenly overfull. The sorcerer’s eyes are still glowing, and his magic is still churning.

I won’t release my power until I know you’re safe, he admits.

He must be listening to my every thought.

I am.

“Stop that,” I whisper.

He gazes down at me. Not until I know you’re safe.

I’m too weak and weary to argue. My limbs throb and I’m still trembling faintly. My stomach feels like it won’t ever keep another meal down, and my mind is rebelling against all it’s witnessed this evening.

But my heart—gratitude is spilling from it. If not for Memnon, I’d likely still be in that room, enduring who knows what sorts of twisted tortures.

His arms tighten around me, and he brushes a kiss against my temple.

I will always come for you. I will always fight for you.

I press my lips together to keep my sad little sob in my throat. I’ve been whittled down to this soft, weepy thing. I would say I hate it, but right now in the security of Memnon’s arms, it feels safe to be vulnerable.

So I let him carry me, not thinking much of anything as we pass one slumped form, then another and another in the hallway. I think my eyes touch on half a dozen people lying motionless on the ground before I notice the lines of blood running from their noses, eyes, and ears.

I don’t need to stretch my senses or my magic out to know they’re all dead.

What happened to them? I ask.

They were in my way.

Reflexively, my hand tightens around the fistful of shirt I clutch. Memnon must have done this when he entered the building.

I take it all in as we round a corner and a gust of wind hits us. I glance over at what once must’ve been the front entrance of the building. Now the double doors and shattered glass shards lie on the ground in the entrance hall, more bodies scattered among them.

Red and blue flashing lights spill across the space, and the gaping opening is filled with a semitransparent ward, the magical wall indigo blue. Several spent bullets lie on the other side of it, and beyond them are police officers crouching behind the open doors of their cruisers, their guns drawn. I squint my eyes as I take in the parked police cars that line the street outside the building.

As soon as the officers catch sight of Memnon, they tense and adjust their stances.

“Set the civilian down, and come out with your hands up,” someone on a loudspeaker announces.

What’s going on? I ask.

I came for you as fast as I could, he says apologetically.

It’s obviously a bit more complicated than that. There’s a whole squadron of armed officers waiting for him, each one ready to violently stop him. He must’ve badly broken the law to get to me.

Emotion knots in my throat, and I fight back another sob.

I begged the sorcerer to come faster. I wondered what was taking him so long. And now guns are being pointed at him because he did his best.

Memnon’s grip tightens on me as he stares out at the cops.

Rather than setting me down, his magic rolls out of him like a wave, rushing toward the officers until they are all swallowed up by it. Memnon’s power lingers outside for several minutes, but I hear car doors slam shut and the roar of engines as they move away. When it clears, the street outside the building is empty. In the sky above, a helicopter I didn’t notice before hangs around, but as I watch, it slowly drifts away.

Memnon’s boots crunch on the glass as we cross the room, then pass through his ward.

He gazes down at me, and I sense, behind those glowing eyes, that he’s mostly magic and instinct.

You were brave tonight, he says down our bond. His hand moves to cradle my head, But now rest.

The world goes dark.

I jerk awake at the sound of a door slamming.

“Easy, little witch, you’re safe,” Memnon says from slightly above me.

I blink, taking in the sorcerer still holding me. His hair has settled, and his eyes are now their usual smoky brown color. They shimmer too brightly, like he might be fighting back tears.

That look has my own heart racing, and my emotions feel too big for my body—or maybe they’re his? The bond between us seems extra loud at the moment.

I reach a hand up, cupping his face and lightly tracing the edges of his scar.

Safe…

It all comes roaring back to me then. The party, the spiked drink, the terrifying broom ride, and my abduction. Then the torture, the endless torture. There had been revelations after that and a harrowing escape, but my mind keeps taking me back to that room and the pain⁠—

“You’re safe, my queen.” Memnon speaks softly to me in Sarmatian, using the same tone he reserved for skittish horses. “You’re not there anymore.”

A choked sob escapes my lips as Memnon continues carrying me deeper into the building⁠—

“You’re here in our home,” He reassures me before my panic can spike. “There are over a hundred wards guarding this house and the land around it. This is not Henbane. No one can get in here. You are safe.”

I hadn’t realized how much I had tensed up until right then, when I relax.

It’s strange on the one hand to be completely uninjured yet to still bear the visceral memory of the pain. My mind is unconvinced I’m healed.

Memnon carries me into the kitchen, setting me down on the island countertop in the center of the space.

I reach for him, but he catches my hands and clasps them together. “I’m getting you water. I won’t leave your sight.”

I draw in a deep breath, then, licking my dry lips, I nod, maybe too quickly. Water. I’d like water.

Giving me one last meaningful look, Memnon releases my hands and moves toward a cupboard.

While he’s grabbing a glass, I hear the scrabble of claws in the next room over. A split second later, Nero bounds into the kitchen, presumably coming in from outside. As soon as he sees me, his pupils dilate. The big cat only pauses a moment before leaping onto the island, nearly bowling me over in the process.

“Nero,” Memnon says sharply.

But my familiar has already crawled halfway onto my lap. He lifts his head and presses his snout against the juncture where my jaw meets my neck. If he were a dog, I’m sure I’d now get lavished with licks. Nero being a panther, he nips at my jaw, growling a little.

“Hey—” I say.

“Nero.” Memnon’s tone has darkened into something dangerous as he comes over with a glass of water.

The panther gives my jaw an abrasive lick, then bumps me with his head.

I slip into my familiar’s mind long enough to sense a restless irritation and an edge of relief. At least I think those are the emotions. I do recognize the love beneath it all as he looks at me.

Returning to my own mind, I pet the big cat.

“I’m not going to apologize to you for leaving you here,” I say. “You would’ve gotten hurt had I taken you along.”

Just like that, I’m sucked back into that room.

Your first true task once I release you tonight will be to sever each of those bonds.

If Nero had been there…a shudder works its way through me, and my body is trembling all over again.

Memnon steps in close and takes my hand, pressing the glass of water into it.

“You’re not in that room. You’re here, in our kitchen, with your soul mate and your familiar,” he says, and again, his eyes glisten as he gazes at me. “We both love you, and we would happily kill and die for you. Now, please, est amage, drink the water. You’ll feel better.”

Again, his words have me relaxing, and I do drink the water in several long gulps. I feel faintly queasy.

Goddess, but this night needs to end. All I want is to pass out pressed against my familiar and my soul mate.

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” Memnon says softly. “Nero, you’re sleeping in the bedroom with Selene.”

My panther rises up, looking more than a little pleased at that. He hops off the counter and slinks out of the kitchen toward the main bedroom.

Once my familiar is gone, Memnon scoops me back up and begins carrying me once more.

I lean my head against his shoulder. You can put me down, I say tiredly.

You’ll have to command it of me, he says. Otherwise,that’s not happening.

I’d have to command it of him...

I turn my face into his chest as my face crumbles.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “So sorry.”

He rubs my back. “For what, little witch?” he says, perplexed.

“The bond.” My voice breaks. “It’s awful, so awful. I’m sorry.” I begin to sob. “I never should’ve agreed to it.”

My mate’s grip tightens on me. “I offered you the bond,” he reminds me as we head down his hallway. “I did so willingly, to repay the debt I owed you. If you hadn’t accepted it, I would’ve never gotten the chance to atone for my mistakes.”

His answer doesn’t placate me. I felt what it was like to have another’s will imposed on me.

“I command you to never take another command from me,” I say.

Memnon stares at me steadily for a few seconds.

“No,” he eventually says.

I raise my eyebrows. “What do you mean no?”

Memnon clasps me by the back of my neck and forces me to look at him. “I gave you my power because I did unforgiveable things to the only person I have ever truly loved. And I like our forged bond. I can tell I’m earning back your trust, and I get pleasure from serving you. We are soul mates, Empress. You are my heart, and I trust you absolutely with this power you have over me. I will not let you break this bond, just like I didn’t let you break the one fate forged between us.”

Memnon halts at the threshold to the main bedroom.

“So,” he says, “I am asking you, as the man who wants to continue proving himself to you, to take back your last command.”

I pull away so I can really see him.

“Fine,” I say, making a face. “I take back my previous command.” The words taste like ash on my tongue, but as soon as I speak them, Memnon’s expression softens.

“Thank you,” he says, and he resumes walking once more.

He approaches the bed where Nero is already waiting, and his magic pulls back the sheets.

“I’m dirty,” I realize. I’m still covered in blood and grime.

I’ve barely spoken when the sorcerer’s magic spills over me, scouring my body. I feel the sticky bloodstains vanish away, and I can only imagine what else the spell cleaned off.

“Better?” Memnon asks.

I nod.

His power moves to my feet, and it tugs off my boots and socks, and they fall to the ground.

From Memnon’s closet, one of his T-shirts floats out, passing over the bed, where Nero tries to nip at it.

Memnon’s magic drifts over me once more, and the outfit I wear melts off my body. His power is still hiding my nudity when his shirt slips itself over my head. I reach out to thread my arms through the armholes.

“You look good in my clothes, est amage,” he says as the shirt settles over my torso and his magic clears. “You always have.”

I give him a whisper of a smile, and for the first time tonight, I see Memnon grin. I think it’s purely in response to my own smile.

He settles me into the bed, then retreats.

“Memnon.” I hate how panicked I feel at his absence.

“I need to remove my own clothes.”

Right, of course.

I give him that same anxious nod and watch him undress as Nero nestles in close.

I pet my panther, but my entire body stays on edge until Memnon, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs, slips into the bed with me.

I flip onto my side to more fully face Memnon. There’s so much I want to say to him, so much I saw, so much Memnon did. I can’t seem to put words to any of it at the moment, so I simply take one of his hands and clasp it between mine.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I brush a kiss against his knuckles. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he says softly, searching my face. “I will always come for you, and I will always fight for you.” He wraps a hand around my clasped ones. “Little witch,” he breathes, “please tell me what happened before I found you.”

Another shudder works its way through my system.

I can’t.

“Read my mind.” It’s a plea, one that would allow me to avoid lingering longer than necessary on what happened this evening. It only registers a few seconds later, when his hands move to my head, that I gave him a command, one he’s forced to follow.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry. Read my mind only if you want.”

“Selene.” As Memnon speaks, his magic sifts out of him, the inky blue clouds of it pooling in the air. “Stop apologizing to me.”

His power creeps toward me, moving as though it has a mind of its own. I draw in a breath, and as easy as that, the magic slips in, coating my mouth and plunging down my throat.

I brace my hands on his forearms as the night flickers behind my eyes. Bones breaking, screaming, suffocating pain. I swallow down the taste of bile, my body shaking all over again from the memory.

His eyes begin to glow and his hair lifts. That burning gaze finds mine.

“The sorceress is lucky she’s dead,” he says solemnly.

I tense.

His thumbs stroke the sides of my face, even as his power continues to rage through him. “I will draw our enemies out and break them one by one,” he says, his eyes hypnotic. “I won’t stop until I make chalices from their skulls and coats from their skin. I will not rest until the entire Fortuna clan is nothing but a fucking memory.”

These are monstrous promises, but for once, they don’t frighten me as they should. The Fortunas have built an entire empire on abusing supernaturals. They deserve the ruthless attentions of someone like Memnon.

I squeeze his forearms, a tear slipping out.

“This,” he finishes, “I swear to you.”

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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.

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