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Finally, he grimaces. “All right, we’ll do it.”

Placing four adult shifters under a truth spell is no small thing, and I sense that Memnon is relishing every second of it.

“Only the truth shall leave these lips until my questions are answered,” the sorcerer incants.

The shifters cannot see Memnon’s indigo magic as it moves toward them, but I see Vincent scowl and Irene flinch as the magical smoke slides up their nostrils and down through their mouths, and I know they must sense the spell as it takes hold.

Once the magic settles, Irene says, “Now what?”

“Now, you answer a few of my questions. If you’re not compromised, then you can ask me whatever you please.”

“Compromised?” Kane echoes, but Memnon doesn’t elaborate.

None of the shifters look particularly pleased. Tonight Memnon was the one who was supposed to answer questions, not them.

But Vincent clears his throat and threads his hands together on the table in front of him.

“Let’s get this over with then,” he says.

Memnon’s gaze moves over the group. “Have any of you been magically bonded in your life?”

Three nos ring out. The single yes comes from Vincent.

I raise my eyebrows.That’sinteresting.

“Was it against your will?” Memnon asks.

“My wife is a witch.” Vincent bites out the words. “It was part of our marital vows.”

A bit hypocritical of the Marin Pack to have come down so hard on my own forged bond when this entire time, their leader had one of his own.

“Was it against your will?” Memnon presses.

“No,” Vincent growls out.

Memnon’s gaze sweeps back over the room. “Have any of you worked for Ensanguine Enterprises or the Fortuna family at any point in your life?”

Four no’s ring out.

The sorcerer settles back in his seat. “My questions are answered.”

The only hint that the last of Memnon’s truth spells has dissolved away is the faint blue sheen that leaves the lycans’ lips a moment later. It happens so quickly it looks like a trick of the eye.

Vincent reaches into his pocket and pulls out a stoppered vial of emerald-green liquid. Truth potion.

“Now that’s over with, I trust you will grant us the same favor we granted you.”

Rather than answering, Memnon’s magic reaches out and lifts the potion from where it rests and floats it over to the sorcerer’s hand. He unstoppers the small vial and drinks it down.

He corks the empty bottle and sets it in front of him.

Vincent’s gaze focuses on that vial for a moment, before it then lifts to Memnon. “Will you now tell us what you can of the murders?”

Memnon gives the alpha another narrow-eyed look, then begins. “I recently came to work for the Fortuna family…”

My mate tells the shifters mostly what he told me. How the criminal organization is run by a dynasty of sorcerers and the main players of it—Luca, the family patriarch, his wife, Annalee, and his children, Leonard, Juliana, and Sophia. How up until today, his job consisted of making bodies disappear, which is how he came into possession of the murder victims. How he doesn’t know who killed them, only that they appeared to come from the Equinox Building.

The sorcerer even discusses how he initially staged the bodies because he wanted to frame me for murder and how this last body was purely meant to make the Fortunas sweat. He ends with how he’s now being transferred to a different branch of the organization and likely won’t have access to further bodies.