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I press a hand to my head.No one invited you into the conversation,I say, holding back the thought that only days ago, Memnondidvery thoroughly fuck me.

The conversation?Memnon echoes.Who else are you talking to? Please don’t tell me you’ve involved the panther in this.

Memnon.

I feel him grin, and in response, my entire body seems to come alive. Lately, the sorcerer has been…cheeky. And Goddess help me, I think I like it.

I’ll see you soon, Empress.

Crap, that’s right. The mounted cuckoo clock in the spell kitchen says I have ten minutes, though it could be wrong—magic makes the thing finicky.

Hurriedly, I clean up my spot on the counter, then stir the pot.

The grimoire lists an incantation as the final step. I lift a hand over the cauldron and read it off: “Mortal hearts full of woe and ire, see not my form if thou dost conspire. Turn thine eyes away from me, protect my body and blessed be.”

A flare of light brightens the mixture, and I see all the solid ingredients dissolve into the liquid.

From my pocket, I pull out a soft leather cord I found in one of the drawers of the spell kitchen. On it, I strung an old quartz pendant I used to wear. Now I dip the cord, stone first, into the potion, making sure all of it is submerged. When I pull it out, the soft luster of my pale orange magic coats the pendant and cord before sinking into the objects. I can sense the ward taking hold.

I did it. I made my first successful amulet.

Once the ward has completely set, I tuck the newly made amulet into my pocket.

For the first time since Nero was attacked last night, I breathe easy.

Now to meet with Memnon.

CHAPTER 28

My soul matedrives up on a gleaming motorcycle, his dark hair billowing in the wind, no helmet in sight.

Hell’s bells.

“What is that?” I ask from the pavement in front of my residence hall, my bags at my feet.

He raises an eyebrow, then glances at the motorcycle between his legs before looking back at me again. “You’re the modern woman. I imagine you already know.”

“You wantmeto ride on that thing?” The roads around here are winding, mountainous, and often pitted. Many lack guardrails, and the drops from them can be steep. The thought of taking those turns on a motorcycle sends a shiver down my spine.

Memnon swings himself off his seat. “You sound mighty judgmental for a woman who has no vehicle.”

“Considering youstole yours, I think I have a right to be.”

“You scared, little witch?” Memnon asks, eyeing me.

“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly.

A sinful smile blooms across his face. “Youare.”

Maybe it’s his tall stature. Maybe it’s the outfit, a simple black shirt and black fatigues tucked into combat boots, whichseems to display every damnably beautiful inch of him and showcase his dangerous nature. Or maybe it’s his face, with his annoyingly high cheekbones and those wicked lips. But he takes my breath away. He looks like something mythical and forgotten.

He steps in close. “I’ll keep you safe, Selene,” he says roughly. “You know that.”

I think I’ve stepped closer to him, lured in by that magnetic pull he has.

His gaze draws up to my residence hall. “Or we could stay here, maybe have a little dinner. You could introduce me to your coven sisters, and I could read their minds one by one.” His expression grows cold, cruel. “It could be a game—see how many witches survive the evening.”

Memnon looks half-convinced of his own plan when he steps past me and starts up the walkway to my house.