Home > Popular Books > Bewitched (Bewitched, #1)(102)

Bewitched (Bewitched, #1)(102)

Author:Laura Thalassa

But this one comes pretty damn close.

With Memnon’s final words, the last of our magic leaves us, and the wall solidifies. I step forward and run my hand over it. It feels and looks…exactly as it should. Solid. Mundane. Seamless. It’s just one long, uninterrupted surface.

“Reveal,” I say in Sarmatian.

The wall falls away, and my hand slips forward through empty air. I can see the spiral staircase ahead of us once more.

I step back. “Conceal.”

All at once, the open doorway becomes a wall again.

A startled little laugh escapes me because I helped make this.

I feel Memnon’s eyes on my face, and when I glance at him, his own features are full of longing.

“That laugh…” he says reverently. Then his expression grows determined.

I clear my throat, trying to break the strange moment. “What we did probably breaks a law or three,” I say. I mean, I don’t know that, but this feels naughty enough for it to be a crime.

“You have forgotten how power works, little witch. It is one of the few things time hasn’t changed.” He smirks at me, the dim light in the room exaggerating his scar. “Modern people act like they’ve evolved into something…palatable. They pretend they don’t hunger for blood and destruction, and they almost have themselves fooled.” The shadows in the room have exaggerated Memnon’s features, turning him sinister.

“But, est amage,” he continues, “there is only one law humans ever follow: might makes right. We were strong enough to take this doorway, so now it is ours.”

“That’s not how the world works,” I argue.

His smoky-brown eyes glint. “Careful now, Selene. You’re thinking like an idealist. Bad men use such thoughts for their own gain.”

Memnon closes the last of the distance between us. Even the way he moves is confident. And why wouldn’t he be confident? He is physically powerful, wickedly intelligent, and has enough magic to wipe out a city. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who possesses so much strength.

He searches my face again, then peers into my eyes.

“Strange,” he murmurs curiously.

“What is strange?” I ask, distracted by how alluring he is. Even now, heat pools in me.

“Your memory and my legacy are both gone,” he muses. “Mine has been cast from the record, but it still lingers in my mind, while yours has been cast from your mind but still lingers in the record…”

My brows pinch together as his eyes grow distant.

“Damnatio memoriae,” he says, reaching out and stroking my cheek with his knuckles. “That’s the curse you would’ve used…”

Curse?

“I’ve never cursed another person in my entire life,” I say, indignant.

“That you can remember,” he tacks on, his knuckles still warm against my skin.

I narrow my gaze at him.

“But you cannot remember,” he says again, his gaze far away.

All at once those eyes sharpen as some realization snaps into place.

His hand drops from my cheek. “The Law of Three,” he says, like it’s all so obvious. “The Witch’s Law.”

I know what he’s speaking of—every witch does. It’s our equivalent of the Golden Rule. The Law of Three is the principle that rules all spellwork. It states that any magic you perform—good or bad—will return to you threefold.

His gaze is heavy on mine. “Est amage, you cursed yourself.”

CHAPTER 34

As soon as we return to my room, I grab a pen and snatch up my notebook.

There are several things I need to remember. I rush to write them all down, starting with the Sarmatian command words I’ll need to invoke to open and close the doorway, then ending with damnatio memoriae and the Law of Three.

Ever since Memnon uttered these last two concepts, he’s been in a peculiar mood—half-broody, half-contemplative.

The idea that I’m some washed-up ex-lover who went to all this trouble…it’s the sort of story you spin to make some ridiculous worldview make sense.

That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t look into it.

I put my pen down and turn to the man himself. Memnon’s taken a seat at the chair by my bedside, and he’s studying the dozens of notebooks I’ve shelved on my bookcase.

I don’t know why he hasn’t left me yet. I expected him to. What I wasn’t expecting was to enjoy his company. He’s weird and edgy and just…a lot all at once, but I don’t really want to part ways with him.