As I gather my thoughts, the sorcerer peers beyond me at the web page open on my computer, catching an eyeful of the sorry state of my bank account.
I reach out and close my laptop.
“Money trouble?” he asks, his face unreadable.
“How do you even know about online banking?” I ask him suspiciously. “And modern currency for that matter?”
My gaze flicks over his shirt and jeans and down to his leather boots. Now I do wonder how the sorcerer is getting by.
“Do you really want to have that talk right now, est amage? I’m not sure you’d like my answers.”
I stare up at him warily. I know he can riffle through a person’s mind—I remember him doing it to my own—so I know he has ways of seeing the modern world through others’ eyes. I don’t know why that would worry me…
Before I can help it, I rub my face. “It’s fine. Everything will be fine.” It’s less an answer and more a pep talk.
Memnon doesn’t say anything to that, and somehow, his silence makes my money situation feel all the more hopeless.
“The people last night—they were going to pay me,” I say. It’s a decent enough place to start. “It was some magical gig I agreed to so I could help pay for Nero’s food.”
Memnon frowns, his attention moving to my panther, who is sprawled out on my bed. “It costs a lot to feed him,” the sorcerer agrees, approaching the bed to pet the big cat. “I remember.”
Nero leans his head into the touch, eating up Memnon’s attention.
“It’s fine,” I repeat, though my voice cracks.
It’s not fine, and I’m trying not to think about the very real possibility of being unable to feed Nero.
Memnon glances over at me, and he has a look in his eye like he’s scheming.
He moves away from my familiar. “Tell me the rest of what happened last night,” he demands. “Leave nothing out.”
It doesn’t take long to tell Memnon the whole story. He leans against one of my walls, arms folded, as he listens to the entire thing, a menacing look on his face.
“…And that’s where you found me,” I finish.
It feels good to share this with him. I haven’t had a chance to tell Sybil, nor have I dared to write the event down—not when there are incriminating details and the Politia is interested in my notebooks.
A muscle in Memnon’s jaw keeps jumping.
“The spell circle,” he finally says. “It took place in this house?”
I nod. The mention of it has my pulse speeding. I remember all over again how there’s a direct tunnel into our house, one those masked witches can easily use even now.
I’m not going to think about the fact they may even be fellow coven sisters. That thought is downright chilling. As it is, I have to live with the fact Kasey was one of them.
Kasey, whom I haven’t heard from since last night.
“Take me to where the spell circle happened,” Memnon commands.
I should be bristling at the order. Instead, the sorcerer feels like a rudder keeping me on course.
I leave my room and lead Memnon through the house. Several witches see us pass, and one by one, they fall silent as they take in the man at my back. He’s huge and ferociously beautiful, and I’m sure they can sense the danger rolling off him.
I catch sight of their expressions, and while some look a little nervous, they also seem…interested?
Immediately, my hackles rise, and a little bit of my magic sifts out of me, thickening in the air.
Shit, Selene, are you getting jealous over your wicked stalker?
An arm wraps around my chest, and I’m drawn back against Memnon.
A moment later his lips are at my ear. “Possessiveness looks good on you, mate,” he says, nipping my ear.
I glare at him over my shoulder before pushing his arm away. “I’m not your mate,” I whisper under my breath. “And don’t bite my ear.”
Memnon’s eyes twinkle. “At least you’re not in denial about being possessive,” he says, those sensual lips curving into a smirk. “We can agree on that.”
I’m about to argue with him on that, but then we pass another witch who gives Memnon a moonstruck look, and I turn my glare at her.
I hear soft prideful laughter at my back.
“Shut up.”
I may be a little possessive.
CHAPTER 33
When we get to the Ritual Room, I let Memnon in first, holding the door open before following him inside.
His boots echo against the floor as he peers around, taking in the dark walls and the rows of chairs.