“Goddess’s wrath,” she curses, turning. As soon as she sees me, she gasps. “Selene!” Now she chucks the pail aside, causing Merlin to flap his wings as water sprays him and his perch. She crosses the room and throws herself at me. “I’ve been so worried.” she says, holding me tightly. “I heard you were arrested, but when I called the station, they told me you’d already been released. But then you weren’t answering your calls, and you never showed up here.” She pauses to inhale a breath. “Where have you been?”
“I’ve been with Memnon,” I say tiredly. I shrug off the duffel bag I’ve been carrying, nearly clobbering my familiar in the process.
Nero gives me what can only be described as a dirty look.
“Sorry, bud,” I say to him.
His ears flick at the term. You just cannot please everyone.
“Memnon?” Sybil says, making a face. “Last I checked, we hated his guts.”
“We still hate his guts,” I confirm.
“Oh good. I mean bad.” Her brow furrows. “But last night when he was carrying you out of the dance, you guys seemed like you’d ironed things out. What happened?”
I let out a jaded laugh that ends as a sob.
Hell’s spells, where to begin?
I sit down heavily on the edge of her bed, Nero curling up at my feet. “If you have an hour, I’ll tell you everything.”
She nods, pulling her computer chair over to sit. “I’m listening.”
So I tell her the whole, sordid truth, from Memnon asphyxiating a room full of supernaturals then altering their minds, to framing me for the murders to forcing me to agree to his shitty demands.
Sybil keeps saying “What the fuck?” over and over again, her eyes glued to me.
Once I finish, she lets out a hysterical little laugh. “So let me get this straight: you’re no longer a suspect”—I nod—“but you’re engaged to a psycho”—another nod—“and you can now remember your past?”
I give her a sad smile. “Yeah, that’s about where the situation is.”
“I don’t believe it,” she says, staring at me intently.
I probably wouldn’t either, if roles were reversed.
“Ask me about a memory, one you know I’ve forgotten,” I say.
Sybil sits back in her seat. “Um…okay.” She drums her fingers on the armrest. “What did we do on the night of our high school graduation?”
Easy. “We got drunk off cheap booze and skinny-dipped in the Irish Sea. It was tit-chappingly cold too.”
Sybil’s mouth parts with her surprise. “Holy midnight,” she says softly. “You remember.” The lights in her room flicker, punctuating the statement. “And your magic won’t take any more memories the next time you cast a spell?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Sybil’s eyes well as they move over my features. “How do you feel about that?”
I sigh and get up, grabbing my bread roll before returning to her bed. Bread will help, right?
“Awful. Angry. A little hopeful and then guilty that I feel hope.” I rip the roll in half, then take a bite of it. “I don’t know. I’m so conflicted.”
Sybil moves next to me on the bed and rubs my back. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “Now is probably not a good time to tell you what’s been happening here.”
I glance over at her, my brow creasing. “What are you talking about?”
“Another witch was murdered.”
It’s my turn to stare at her in disbelief.
“What? When?”
“I think someone discovered the body sometime in the middle of the night out in the Everwoods,” Sybil says.
A shudder runs through me when I realize this must’ve been Memnon’s doing. He’d moved the previous bodies into the Everwoods when he was framing me for murder. He must’ve spent the hours I was incarcerated unframing me for it. After all, he didn’t scheme to marry me just to leave me behind bars. No, he has far more carnal plans for the two of us.
All at once, fear floods my chest, making it hard to breath. I place a hand over my heart, choking a little on the sensation. I can’t understand my own extreme reaction—
SELENE! Memnon bellows down our bond.
Speak of the fucking devil.
Panic continues to grip me, and I realize it’s his emotions I’m feeling, not my own.
Answer me if you can! His tone is frantic. Tell me you’re okay.
“Are you okay?” Sybil says, echoing the sorcerer’s words. Her brow crinkles as she eyes me.
I nod. I’m fine, I push down our bond, just to beat back this terror pouring from Memnon. It clicks then. You found the fire.
I sense the instant realization strikes him.
You set this?
I feel relief spreading down our bond, and it’s like a balm to his previous fear.
He begins to laugh. The hairs along my arms rise at the sound. Only he would find arson funny.
Clever, vicious woman, he continues. I should know by now that you would have vengeance to match my own.
“Selene?” Sybil snaps her fingers in front of my face. “What is going on? You’re zoning out.”
“Memnon’s found the fire,” I say distractedly.
“What fire?”
“The one I started in his house.”
“You started a fire?” Sybil squawks.
I nod.
Where are you now? Memnon asks.
Home.
I don’t see you, he says.
My home, I clarify.
“You’re not serious, are you?” my friend says. “You can’t just light people’s houses on fire.”
“You can if they suck.”
“Selene.” Sybil gives me a patronizing look.
Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t come over right now and haul you back here, Memnon says.
I will light your house on fire again, I respond, doubling down on my actions. Assuming any of it still stands.
When will this man learn not to fuck with witches?
How are you doing? Memnon says, pivoting the conversation. Getting uncomfortable yet since we made that oath?
Why would I be uncomfortable?
There’s a spark of amusement. You’ll find out soon enough. Once ignoring it becomes intolerable, soul mate, you can come find me.
Tits will talk before that happens, I say. In the meantime, have fun figuring out where you’ll sleep tonight.
I withdraw from the connection then and glance at Sybil. “I should get back to my room.” I have the rest of my dinner to eat and notebooks to put away. Plus, Nero likely wants to get out and stretch his muscles in the Everwoods.
“Wait a damn second,” my friend says, “you can’t just leave after you casually mention that you lit some dude’s place on fire.”
“Not ‘some dude,’” I say, grabbing my soup. It’s long since gone cold. “My evil soul mate. And I’ll tell you more about it later.”
I heft the unzipped duffel bag of notebooks onto my shoulder and head out her door, Nero prowling after me.
To our backs Sybil calls out, “I’m holding you to that!”
Nero and I make it up to the third floor, passing by several framed portraits of wild eyed witches and a random bat flying down the hallway.