Page 168

Story: Bewitched

I’m ready to face the man.

Sybil’s face grows excited. “You know what this means?” she says. “It’s revenge time.”

Instead of returning to the table Sybil nabbed us, she leads me in the opposite direction, down one of the conservatory’s wings.

For a moment, as I take in our surroundings, I forget about Memnon and the vendettas between us.

I cannot believe I haven’t visited this place before.

Plants fill every level of the conservatory, growing from massive terra-cotta pots and patches of ground where the floor has been cut away. The only place not completely covered in growing foliage is the dance floor and its surrounding tables, though even that area is dotted with plants. And all of it is illuminated by the levitating lanterns above us.

At the end of the wing, beyond clusters of chatting supernaturals, a massive cauldron smokes. Next to it rests a pyramid of coupe glasses, all filled with the wafting brew.

Right, more booze to loosen my inhibitions and allow me to have a good time tonight. Maybe it’ll even make me forget thathaving a good timedoes nothing to quench my thirst for payback.

Sybil and I haven’t made it to the cauldron when I feel the brush of familiar magic on my bare back.

Empress…we have unfinished business…

I stop walking, and Sybil glances back at me.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Memnon.”

“Do you see him?” she asks. “Where is he?” She peers around me as though she might spot him.

I have the oddest urge to laugh at her. “Do you even know what he looks like?” I ask.

“No, but all assholes have a look to them. I’m sure I could pick him out of this crowd.”

Now I do laugh. “I can hear him,” I admit. I touch my temple. “In here.”

My friend’s brows rise. “Oh—oh. Right. You have freaky soul mate powers.”

I glance surreptitiously around us, but I don’t see Memnon. He’s clearly toying with me.

Worse, it’s working.

Fun is the absolute last thing on my mind right now. Instead, all my anger and resentment and shame and worry—all those ugly emotions rise in me, along with a few others, like excitement, hope, and a breathless, flighty feeling I won’t put a name to.

We reach the pyramid of booze, and the two of us grab glasses. But as I stare at the brew I hold, I scowl.

“I can’t do it,” I admit.

“Can’t do what?” Sybil asks as she takes a sip of her drink.

I can’t continue to drink and laugh andpretend. Goddess, I don’t want to pretend anymore.

“I need to find Memnon and deal with him.” As I speak the words, I feel the absolute truth of them. I hand my friend my drink. “Can you take this back to our table and save it for me?”

“But, Selene—”

“Please, Sybil.” I give her a beseeching look. “I’ll only be gone a moment.” I force out a smile. “Then we can have fun together. In earnest.”

She exhales but then nods. “Okay, yeah, fine. You deal with the loser and then find me.” My friend gives me a playful look. “But don’t take too long, or else I’ll drink your brew for you.”

This time, I give her a real smile. “Deal.”

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