Fucking finally. There’s the show of solidarity I’ve been waiting for—
Nero walks right up to Memnon and rubs his face against the sorcerer’s leg.
What the…？
“Really?” I wheeze out. I’m being held by the throat, and Nero thinks he should make friends with Memnon? Memnon?
My familiar is defective.
“You expect me to believe any of your lies?” The sorcerer’s eyes sweep over the room. “Or this farce of a life you’ve made for yourself?
“You cannot expect me to believe that you went from ruling the most powerful nation on Api’s good earth to this.” He curls his upper lip as he takes in the kitchen before refocusing his attention on me. “And that mockery of your magic you demonstrated earlier this evening? That was a joke, right?”
The way he says that last part…shit, he must’ve seen the entire amulet recipe. Not my proudest moment.
“Surely,” he continues, “you didn’t scheme my demise only to end up as such a pathetic shadow of your former—”
My hand is moving before I’ve even decided I’m going to hit him. My palm strikes his cheek, making a sharp clapping sound.
Repercussions be damned, that felt good.
“I don’t know who the hell Roxilana was,” I say, switching to Latin again, “but I’ll light a candle for her and say a prayer on her behalf that she had to deal with you for any length of time. I bet she laughed gleefully when she buried you in the ground. I know I would’ve.”
I went too far.
Memnon’s eyes flash, and an ungodly growl rises from his lungs. If he looked murderous before, he looks apoplectic now.
He drags me away from the sink, still clutching me by the throat.
“Forget my former plans,” he says in that other ancient tongue, his voice low and lethal. “I will make you pay now.”
He slides his hand from my neck to my wrist, and everywhere his palm rubs against my bare skin tingles in the most unnerving way.
I yank against his hold, but it’s useless. Memnon hauls me out of the kitchen, his magic wrapping around me as I trip after him. Nero trails behind us, prowling along as though none of this is worrisome.
The first floor of the house is quiet, save for the staticky buzz of the flickering lights. Despite the late hour, I cannot be the only person still awake down here. Yet, except for Memnon, it’s been unusually quiet in the house.
I notice why as Memnon leads me into the foyer: the glittering blue residue of wards hanging in the air beneath the two hallways and the house’s library.
Probably made by Memnon earlier, and probably crafted so he could drag me away without anyone noticing.
Is this what happened to Kate?
Intuition is telling me that this man would never dare to harm me, but my intuition has also told me he’s a violent, dangerous man. Then there’s also the fact that he’s grabbed me by the neck, threatened me, and now he’s hauling me to Goddess knows where. Oh, and he’s a sorcerer whose power preys on his conscience.
If I leave out those front doors with him, I may never return.
Thinking fast, I grab a single strand of my hair and pluck it, and then I let the words form.
“With a hair from my head, and the touch of a spurned spouse, I banish you straight from my house.”
My power lashes out, slamming into Memnon and ripping his hand from my wrist as he’s thrown forward.
My magic creates a wind tunnel of sorts, the shimmery orange plumes of it knocking over an unlit candelabra and churning a stack of loose papers into the air. Around us, the house’s lights flicker erratically.
Memnon turns to face me, and he smiles now, though it’s as sharp as a knife. “There’s your power, Empress,” he says, fighting my magic even as it continues to push him.
Behind him, the house’s door opens, like it wants to be rid of Memnon too.
I glare at him, my hair blowing around me. “Get out.” With my words, another wave of power hits him in the chest, and Memnon staggers back into the doorway.
He grabs the doorframe, holding steady against the barrage of my magic.
“You cannot put off the inevitable,” he says. “I will be back.”
I lift my chin. “Until then, I’ll light that candle in your wife’s memory.”
His eyes burn with his rising magic. Goddess, he is beautiful. Beautiful and angry. Before he can do anything with that power of his, I hear the gravelly growl of the stone lamassu, the threshold guardians.
All at once his magic is sucked out of the house, and the front door slams shut.