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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.

Ibeggedthe 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 nowrest.

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.