Page 33

Story: Bespelled

“Oh, I have plenty,” he says.

“Then say it.”

The sorcerer shakes his head, but my words carry their own compulsion. Memnon forces out the admission. “Iloathehearing you say you want nothing to do with me, but after being in your head, I understand it all entirely, so I must eat my feelings on this.

“But yes, I have no interest in letting you go. None at all. So I will help you with these mysteries, though the extra scrutiny may very well place you in more danger, and that means I will likely have to kill more people, and I don’t want to admit that to you because I have a reputation to redeem. And I need to redeem it because I want you to crave me the way I crave you. You are the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins, and all the power and glory in the world are useless without you—” His voice breaks off.

Great Goddess’s tits, that’s…a lot to take in.

After a moment, he mutters, “Fuck.”

I think the situation is sinking in for him as well.

“No, no, keep going and tell me how you really feel,” I say sarcastically, though my words ring a little hollow.

Memnon makes a pained noise. “I hurt for all that I lost and how I lost it, and I’m despairing that I will ever get it again. I’m drowning in self-loathing at the moment.”

I glance over at Memnon, my eyes wide, before I realize that though I made a joke, he was forced to take the command literally.

After a moment, the sorcerer groans. “Gods, what have I done?”

Despite the heavy admissions, I smile, just a little. I might actually like Memnon this way. He’s disarming, which is a step up from hateful.

You’re not supposed to like him.

“Youaresupposed to like me,” Memnon replies. “That is the entire point of being soul mates.”

“Get out of my mind.”

“Est amage, it isyouwho are inmymind,” he says.

I glance down at my new boots. “You were right last night,” I admit softly. “There is so much about you I don’t know.”

It’s silent for several seconds. Then— “Please don’t make me give another confession. I can hardly stand the thoughts when I say them out loud.”

I swallow a laugh.

“How did you come to live in that house?” I ask as we walk.

“It’s a rental,” Memnon replies.

“How did you get the money to pay for it?” I ask.

“I know you remember my power,” he says. “With a touch and my will, I can get into anyone’s head. I can learn their secrets, such as account and routing numbers. And I can use them to my benefit.”

So he’s been stealing money. It’s not the worst crime he’s committed, so I guess I should curb my horror.

“And how did you learn about bank accounts, routing numbers, passwords?—”

“—and mortgages and the stock market?” Memnon finishes. “I am still figuring out most of these, but once you touch enough minds, the information fills itself out. Assuming, of course, that the minds correctly understand the concepts. I’m pretty sure most people have no idea how the stock market actually works—myself included.”

Ahead of us, the trees thin out, and I can just make out the conservatory and, farther on, my residence hall.

“So you’ve been using your powers to take what you need?” That explains how Memnon learned English so fast.

“I can hear your disapproval, Empress.”

“I don’t disapprove actually,” I say, surprising even myself. But it’s the truth. “You woke two millennia later than when you went to sleep. I’m glad you took care of yourself.”

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