Page 11

Story: Bespelled

I sit down heavily on the edge of her bed, Nero curling up at my feet. “If you have an hour, I’ll tell you everything.”

She nods, pulling her computer chair over to sit. “I’m listening.”

So I tell her the whole, sordid truth, from Memnon asphyxiating a room full of supernaturals then altering their minds, to framing me for the murders to forcing me to agree to his shitty demands.

Sybil keeps saying “What the fuck?” over and over again, her eyes glued to me.

Once I finish, she lets out a hysterical little laugh. “So let me get this straight: you’re no longer a suspect”—I nod—“but you’re engaged to a psycho”—another nod—“and you can now remember your past?”

I give her a sad smile. “Yeah, that’s about where the situation is.”

“I don’t believe it,” she says, staring at me intently.

I probably wouldn’t either, if roles were reversed.

“Ask me about a memory, one you know I’ve forgotten,” I say.

Sybil sits back in her seat. “Um…okay.” She drums her fingers on the armrest. “What did we do on the night of our high school graduation?”

Easy. “We got drunk off cheap booze and skinny-dipped in the Irish Sea. It was tit-chappingly cold too.”

Sybil’s mouth parts with her surprise. “Holy midnight,” she says softly. “You remember.” The lights in her room flicker, punctuating the statement. “And your magic won’t take any more memories the next time you cast a spell?”

I shake my head. “No.”

Sybil’s eyes well as they move over my features. “How doyoufeel about that?”

I sigh and get up, grabbing my bread roll before returning to her bed. Bread will help, right?

“Awful. Angry. A little hopeful and then guilty that I feel hope.” I rip the roll in half, then take a bite of it. “I don’t know. I’m so conflicted.”

Sybil moves next to me on the bed and rubs my back. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “Now is probably not a good time to tell you what’s been happening here.”

I glance over at her, my brow creasing. “What are you talking about?”

“Another witch was murdered.”

It’s my turn to stare at her in disbelief.

“What?When?”

“I think someone discovered the body sometime in the middle of the night out in the Everwoods,” Sybil says.

A shudder runs through me when I realize this must’ve been Memnon’s doing. He’d moved the previous bodies into the Everwoods when he was framing me for murder. He must’ve spent the hours I was incarcerated unframing me for it. After all, he didn’t scheme to marry me just to leave me behind bars. No, he has far more carnal plans for the two of us.

All at once, fear floods my chest, making it hard to breath. I place a hand over my heart, choking a little on the sensation. I can’t understand my own extreme reaction?—

SELENE!Memnon bellows down our bond.

Speak of the fucking devil.

Panic continues to grip me, and I realize it’shisemotions I’m feeling, not my own.

Answer me if you can!His tone is frantic.Tell me you’re okay.

“Are you okay?” Sybil says, echoing the sorcerer’s words. Her brow crinkles as she eyes me.

I nod.I’m fine, I push down our bond, just to beat back this terror pouring from Memnon. It clicks then.You found the fire.

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