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There’s a worn green velvet couch, a plum-colored wingback chair, and a table between them stacked with books. I drift over to the stack and rifle through them, reading their titles as Memnon continues past me, cutting through the room toward another chamber that houses a spiral staircase.

I’ll be back in a minute,he says as he heads up the staircase, clearly determined to find whoever was down here.

“Mmm…” I say noncommittally as I look at the book titles.The Sisterhood: The Dynamics and Culture of Witches;Ancient Symbols and Their Meanings;Into the Dark: An Exploration of Forbidden Magic.

The book titles are somewhat interesting but not revealing in the least. Abandoning them, I wander around the rest of the room, peering at the items. The grimoires on the shelves are old, and their magic has a musty, rotting smell to it, as though it’s unmaking itself. I pause when my eyes land on one of the grimoires. It’s a small, thin tome, its spine mostly gone. Threads of dark magic waft off it.

Before I can think better of it, I pull the book off the shelf. I flip through the spellbook, but there are no bookmarked pages or obvious spells of interest. Only disturbing drawings of dismembered fingers and eyes. Real cozy reading.

I put the spellbook back, wiping my hands on my jeans to get the oily feel of the magic off me. Turning my attention to the cabinets that run along the lower part of the wall, I crouch down and open them one by one.

Inside all of them are baskets filled with bars and snack packs of chips, trail mix and mini bottled waters.

This is definitely a clubhouse of some sort. And while it’s unusual, I’ve seen nothing here that’s overtly nefarious—dark grimoire aside.

Closing the cabinets, I move to the other side of the room, drawn to the armoire simply because the painted serpent and flowers on the front of it are so beautiful. I run my hand over the image of the snake, noting how the phases of the moon have been detailed on its body. Beneath my touch, it seems to come alive for a moment, the delicately painted scales rippling as it slithers a little. I hear a click, and then one of the armoire’s doors swings open slightly.

I did not even realize it would do that.

I nudge the door open wider.

My eyebrows rise.

Dozens of black robes hang inside. Reaching for one, I rub the fabric between my fingers and breathe the material in.It smells faintly of that cloying draught I was given at the spell circle. More incriminating still, there are a few nearly transparent white shifts hanging inside as well. Cara the shifter had worn something similar when she’d been brought to the circle…

I back away from the closet, my pulse pounding loudly in my ears. I mean, itcouldbe a coincidence. There are probably similar robes and shifts stored somewhere in the residence hall as well. These are pretty basic ceremonial regalia.

I turn and take in the room again, my gaze sweeping over the space before settling on the chests.

I move over to one and attempt to open it. The lid doesn’t budge.

I wonder if stroking this one would work?

I try doing just that. When the lid still doesn’t budge and I feel faintly like I committed some sort of sex act against the chest, I focus my attention on the iron latch at its center. There’s a keyhole beneath it, one my iron room key would probably fit—though I left it back in my room.

“Open,” I command in Sarmatian.

My magic unfurls, a thin line of it flowing into the keyhole. I hear a latch tumble, and then my power is pushing the lid up against the wall.

What is the point of a lock if a spell can…

Hell’s spells.

Stacked inside the chest are many, many masks identical to those worn at the spell circle. On top of them all is the high priestess mask.

Well,thisis no longer a coincidence. Whoever’s been involved in the spell circle is storing the items for it here.

CHAPTER 12

I reachinside the chest and lift the high priestess mask out.

“Memnon!” I call.

When I don’t hear him, I lower the mask and glance down the chamber he exited through.

He’s been awfully quiet down our bond since he disappeared up the staircase.

Memnon?I reach for him through our connection.