Page 128

When Memnon finally finishes telling them what he knows, Vincent frowns, looking the sorcerer over. “How have you gotten away with this?”

“I have an…aptitude.”

“Tell us about this aptitude,” Irene says.

Memnon leans his forearms against the table, his eyes glinting. “I can read minds, lift information stored in them, and manipulate thoughts and memories.”

The lycanthropes, Kane included, go preternaturally still.

“Have you read ours?” the beta finally asks.

Memnon cocks his head, and he has that look in his eye, like he’s a cat toying with his prey. “What does it matter?”

A growl starts up across the table.

“He hasn’t,” I say to stop the fight before it can begin. I would’ve seen Memnon’s magic at work if he had.

The sorcerer eases back in his seat, a carefree grin on his face. I think he enjoys unsettling these shifters.

The freak.

“His ability to manipulate minds means that he’s been able to gain access to their thoughts and make them misremember events or forget them entirely,” I say. “That’s why he hasn’t been caught.”Yet. I hate that the word tacks itself on in my head.

“Do you know why or how these supernaturals are being killed?” Irene asks.

“No. That’s what Selene and I are trying to figure out,” Memnon says.

“It must be a supernatural who has access to dark magic,” I say. “A sorcerer, a witch, a necromancer—someone who can perform these sorts of spells.”

Memnon stands. “That is all I know and all I have to share.”

“We have more questions,” Vincent insists.

Rather than looking at Vincent, Memnon glances down at me, waiting for me to choose—let him leave or make him answer more of the shifter’s questions.

I rise, my chair scraping back. “That’s it for now,” I say. “I’ll reach out to Kane if anything else comes up.”

The lycans must hear how my heart pounds, defending Memnon, standing with him. I cannot decide if I’m being supremely loyal or supremely foolish.

Likely both.

The shifters watch us leave, all of them still seated. I sense that the moment the door shuts behind me and Memnon, they will have an entire second meeting to dissect what they’ve learned.

Memnon must sense this as well because as I reach for the door, his magic slips past me and holds it shut.

The sorcerer turns to the room. “What I have told you is confidential. The Fortunas have eyes and ears everywhere, and I’m certain there must be at least one pack mate who is compromised.”

I sense indignation from the group still seated, but before they can get a word in, Memnon continues.

“I know you trust your pack with your life, but you cannot trust them with this until we know more.”

“That is not our way,” Vincent says.

Magic sifts out of Memnon. “Then I will erase all that I’ve told you from each of your minds, and we will leave.”

Four growls start up. I see fur begin to sprout along Kane’s arms.

Packs, apparently, do not take kindly to threats.