Page 4

My heart flutters, and oh no, I do not like this.

Right now, I have Memnon slotted into a tidy category I like to callEvil-Ass Monsters. It’s a good category, anaccuratecategory.

If he starts being nice, my bond and my past life memories might team up to recatalog him into some other category much less suited to him.

Memnon removes my other shoe, then collects both heels. He rises, forcing my hands to slide off his shoulders. Suddenly, all six something feet of him looms over me.

“Better?” he asks.

“I didn’t need your help taking my own shoes off.” I glare at him to drive the point home.

The man smirks a little, his eyes twinkling. He’s not put off by my anger in the least.

Should’ve kicked him when I had the chance.

“Come, little witch,” he says, placing a proprietary hand on my back. “Let’s finish getting you discharged and leave this place.”

CHAPTER 2

I stepout into the chilly night air, the door to the Politia station hissing shut behind me. My hair feels limp, my skin is sticky with sweat and blood, and my black gown is torn in a couple places.

I am the picture of defeat.

Memnon steps up next to me, his hand moving to the small of my back. If I am defeat, then he is pure, unadulterated victory.

“So what are your plans for me now?” I ask.

There are, undoubtedly, plans. This is, after all, his night. I’m just along for the ride.

A wisp of blue smoke curls around my midsection like a phantom embrace, and I hear his voice inside me, cruelly intimate.

You and I are going home.

I would wager all the money I have to my name that he doesn’t meanmyhome. Which means…I get to see his place.

A shiver courses through me. I don’t want to go there, but I’m also perversely curious to see where he’s been living.

“As long as there’s a bed”—I gesture in front of me—“lead the way.”

I’ll rally some sort of revenge plot tomorrow. Right now, however, this is a full-fledged surrender.

Gritty asphalt digs into the pads of my feet as Memnon guides me across the parking lot toward a sports car.

“That’syour car?” Disbelief coats my voice. I knew the man had acquired some money, but not this much. “Just how many heads have you rifled through?” He must be extorting money from people like it’s no one’s business.

His fingers press into my back. “Feisty mate, always believing the worst of me.”

“You’re less disappointing that way.” Well, almost. The bar isconstantlylowering itself.

I expect to sense the heat of Memnon’s anger through our bond. Instead, he lets out a loud, amused laugh.

“Est amage, the world can turn and the times can change, but thank the gods, some things remain the same.”

I scowl at him. Not going to address that.

I eye the car. “Do you even knowhowto drive?”

There’s a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. “I speak your language and wear your modern clothing. I own a car and a home, and I have a bank account full of money. What do you think, Empress?”