Page 47 of Bedeviled

A chill slides over my skin as I finish the incantation. I remember the last desperate spell I cast here, when my life was draining away. It had been to stop her then too.

Even now I sense those entities deep in the earth watching us, curious and hungry.

I turn to Memnon, the sorcery illuminating his eyes once again dimming.

When it goes fully dormant, he exhales a ragged breath. His gaze flicks over the closed sarcophagus and the faint remains of my last spell before they return to me.

He places a hand against my cheek and gives me an apologetic smile. “There is nothing more this place can give us besides old horrors,” he says. “Let us leave them behind, est amage.”

And once he takes my hand, he, Nero, and I do just that.

CHAPTER 10

That night, I stay alone in my room at my residence hall. It was my idea. I hate that as I settle into my tiny bed, it now feels noticeably empty without Memnon in it.

I’m coming to a crossroads, one I don’t really want to deal with. I want both my life as it was—Selene who was a carefree college student who knew nothing of curses and lost loves—and my new one—Selene who remembers a previous lifetime and is married to her ancient soul mate.

I feel split in two, and I don’t really know what to do about it.

The feeling only increases the next morning, when I notice a set of car keys resting on my desk, an indigo blue bow tied to them. Next to them is a note, one that causes a sharp inhalation as I pick it up.

The letters are Latin, but they’ve been carefully arranged into Sarmatian words—words I transcribed during my first life. Memnon had encouraged me then, and clearly he hasn’t forgotten my effort. My eyes flit over the brief message.

An iron horse for my queen.

I lower the note, my attention returning to the keys. After a moment, I pick them up and grip them tightly, my heart hammering fast. Even a few weeks ago I would’ve rejected such a gift unless I absolutely needed it. Now, rather than feeling like I’m getting entangled in a web of Memnon’s making, I feel…light.

You were here, I breathe down our bond.

I feel the warmth of his happiness. I swear there is also a touch of giddiness. I think…I think that’s because of me.

I was, he says.

But you didn’t stay.

You hadn’t asked me to, he responds.

I didn’t realize you were suddenly a gentleman.

Those were the wrong words.

I feel Memnon’s smile, but it’s not a kind one. Gentleman? he says, I’m pretty sure I’m not imagining the skepticism in his voice.

Do you want me to come over there now and fuck that pussy of yours just the way you like over and over again? Until you cannot walk and your voice is hoarse from screaming? Until your sheets are drenched with my cum and your tits are raw from my kisses and your sweet cunt forgets what it’s like to be empty? I will make Samhain look like a joke—I am happy to do so. Just give the order.

But do not mistake me for a gentleman. I respect you and your wishes—the ones you speak of and the ones you imply—but I am still the same cold king I’ve always been.

I don’t think I breathe through his entire monologue. But I feel heat along my cheeks. Worse, my core has clenched in a decidedly inappropriate way, given what he’s threatened.

Would you? I say quietly. If I asked for that, would you?

Ask me, and you’ll find out.

I nearly do. But then I hear cackling drift up from the floors below mine, and it seems to break whatever spell he’s put me under.

Rain check, I say. I have class soon.

I feel his amusement. Of course, wife. There will be countless days in the future to reacquaint ourselves with one another.