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That was accurate enough.

My traitor of a demon cat still in her arms, she inched towards the labelled shelves.

“I’m glad Gideon’s gone,” I said, smiling as I imagined the great idiot in this room.

Not only would he be like a bull in a china shop, he’d also want to try everything. Come to think of it, he would have been a good test subject for Callie’s potion.

“Let me take a closer look at those runes.”

I was glad she had the shawl on. I purposely had prevented myself from staring at her shoulders, because it pissed me offthat someone had daredtortureher, bent on worse intent. Every time I thought of it, I could feel a dark, overwhelming anger that tingled, making me want to lash out. These instincts needed to be firmly held in check.

Kleos set Zazel back down and removed the shawl.

“Sit here, if you please.” I patted the counter, turning on the bright light I used for delicate work.

I wanted to take my time, and I’d rather not have to bend over her.

She hopped onto it without question.

I brought my fingers to her skin, brushing over the runes softly to feel the depth of the cuts.

“The jumble of words—that’s on purpose, I think. Only a few of the runes might matter. There are a fair few which are carved much deeper, and infused with more magic, at first glance. I have an idea.” How did I evenbeginto tell her what I thought should be done here? “But you won’t like it.”

Kleos had no reason to trust me, and what I’d need to do demanded a tremendous level of trust.

“Shoot,” she invited me.

Here goes nothing…

“I need to carve new runes into you.”

Her eyes widened.

“You tried to remove these with spells, with potions? Nothing worked? That’s because runes are the words that shaped the fabric of the universe. Spells are stronger when spoken. They’re infinitely more potent when written. You have malicious magic carved into your flesh. The only thing to counteract it is more words.”

“I tried—almost immediately, I wrote some cleansing runes on myself. It failed.”

“Yeah, they would. The current runes need to be destroyed. I have to write over them.” I brought my hand to my hair, fingersbrushing through it out of habit and stress. “And this is exactly what someone who’d cursed you in the first place would say, isn’t it? No wonder your little friend jumped me.”

Kleos laughed. “I know it’s not you.”

That was…fascinating.

“Why?” I had to ask. “You don’t know me. I mean, Ididn’tdo it. But there’s no reason why you should believe that.”

“Well, I suspected it was about controlling me. My…body. Like you said. Subjugating me.” She rolled her eyes. “If you wanted me that badly, you would have asked me out, not resorted to spells.”

“Yes, dark rituals are generally not my opening move.” Her theory did lend a new layer to this mystery. “But speaking of, how many guys have you rejected?”

Perhaps if she wrote down the list of broken hearts in her wake, we’d find her attacker.

She flushed, looking down. “That’s…a little complicated.”

“That bad, huh?” I asked, amused, but unsurprised.

“My mother. She’s…traditional. She insists I should accept formal suitors. I might be a Valesco, but she’s a Pendros, and they still believe that sort of nonsense. I’m supposed to accept a date before I can say I’m not interested. So, hm. A few?”

It didn’t surprise me that the Pendros clan kept that outdated custom. It wasn’t unusual amongst the old families—and some of the founders. A list of men asked to be considered and were offered a date, after which the woman could accept or reject his suit.