Page 5

“I think you stole this car along with a memory or two on how to drive it.”

“Those who hold the power make the rules,” he reminds me, ever the ruthless warlord.

This is what made Memnon move through the ancient world with such ease. Not only was he smart, strong, and unscrupulous, his ability to glean knowledge from others allowed him to assimilate fast.

I just never appreciated how fast until now.

He opens the car door for me. Inside the vehicle, a shadow moves, its amber-green eyes glinting in the darkness.

“Nero.” I all but fling myself onto my familiar, my body draped over the leather bucket seat so I can reach the panther better. We’ve only been apart for a few hours, but I’d been anxious about my furry dude.

He must’ve been anxious about me too because he nuzzles against me awfully intensely for a panther who prides himself on being aloof.

While I’m snuggling my familiar, Memnon neatly tucks my legs into the car and closes my door.

When the sorcerer opens his own door, he inhales sharply.

“Nero,” he growls.

I pull away from my panther, and only now do I notice what my soul mate already has.

Nero has torn apart the inside of this car. The rear seats are in shreds, the foam interior littering what’s left of them. He’s clawed up the back side of the front seats, the leather hanging in ribbons. Even the center console I’m leaning on has been gouged at.

I don’t know how much my panther understands about the situation between me and Memnon, but this feels like a felinefuck you, and I am here for it.

“You are such a good familiar,” I say softly, stroking Nero down his flank while he rubs his head against me. “I’m sorry for leaving you like I did,” I whisper, referring both to this evening and to another, fateful evening long ago, when my familiar and I were forced to part ways.

Nero continues to rub against me, the big cat in an unusually forgiving mood.

I hear Memnon sigh as his magic floods the interior of the car, thickening in the air until I can’t see much beyond Nero’s fur. When it clears, the car’s interior is unblemished once more.

The sorcerer gets in then, folding his massive body into the driver’s seat. Suddenly the space feels very, very small.

I release Nero, letting him resettle into the back seat while I buckle myself in. The engine roars to life, and Memnon smoothly maneuvers his fancy car out of the lot and onto the street.

I guess the sorcerer really can drive.

Leaning my head against the window, I stare tiredly out at the dark night, watching streetlights and shadowy foliage blur by.

“When are you going to marry me?” I ask softly.

I can’tnotask it. Right before I was arrested, Memnon said we were to wed immediately. It’s been hours since we made that unbreakable oath, and I feel like a fish caught on a hook, waiting to be reeled in to my death.

Memnon reaches over and takes my injured hand in his, turning it so my sliced palm is facing up.

“Not tonight,est amage, when you still bear the marks of our battle.”

I release a shuddering breath.

Not tonight.

That’s a relief.

I glance down at the wound from earlier, when I cut my palm with his blade and said my oaths and lifted the curse. The wound has begun to scab, though the flesh around it is red and angry.

“When then?” I press.

Memnon’s fingers graze the cut, his touch whisper soft. A wisp of his magic curls out, brushing against it. Almost instantly, the flesh pulls together and seals itself up until even the seam of the wound fades away.