Page 62 of Bedeviled

His fingers trail over the other necklace I wear, his thumb rubbing across the stamped moon face amulet. “What’s this one?” he asks.

A little bit of my mirth drains away. “That one’s my birth control.”

He studies the ugly necklace curiously. “So you wear it, and you don’t get pregnant?”

I’m suddenly very aware that he’s still holding the necklace in his hands. “Mhm.”

I have a brief memory of him pressing his ring into the soil, right at the old gravesite of the child he lost—we lost—long ago.

He peers at the necklace a little longer before releasing it.

Memnon’s head dips, and his lips skim up the line of my shoulder, then the column of my neck. He pauses to press a kiss to the skin there.

“Do you want to see our new house?” he breathes.

I lazily reach behind me and run my fingers through his hair, marveling at the way our skin feels as it moves against one another. Falling in love—and giving in to love—feels like eating dessert for dinner.

“Now?” I whisper back.

He glances up, meeting my reflection in the mirror, and he smiles, his dark eyes glittering.

“Unless you’d rather I tuck you into bed.” He raises his eyebrows, that smile getting a touch more lascivious.

I don’t think I’d mind Memnon tucking me in. But I am more than a little curious about this new place.

“I want to see…our house.”

The hand that is splayed against my belly now tightens. “Follow me.”

Memnon backs out of the closet, into the bedroom beyond. I take a moment to grab what looks like a red silk robe off a nearby hanger and slip it on. The thing is far, far too large on me, its hem pooling on the ground and the sleeves hanging past my fingertips. I realize after a beat that the thing is probably Memnon’s, especially given the vibrant color, which is very Sarmatian.

I cinch it anyway and meet Memnon in the bedroom.

His gaze heats as he takes me in, his eyes skimming over the silk, appraising his clothes on my body.

I give his chest a little push. “Don’t look at me like that. I want to see your house, but I won’t get anywhere if you keep looking at me like you want to eat me.”

“I do want to eat you.”

Really not helping.

“Fine,” he concedes. “I’ll keep my mouth to myself for the time being. But first,” he says, gripping my arms and maneuvering me to the edge of the bed. Once he does so, he grabs my jaw and presses a kiss to my lips. “Wait here,” he breathes against me.

I watch him retreat from me, toward the darkened hallway beyond. Silently, Nero leaps off the bed and follows.

I bring my palm to my lips. “Illuminate,” I whisper in Sarmatian.

My magic twists and forms into an orb that glows with warm amber-orange light.

“Follow him,” I incant, blowing it toward where I last saw Memnon’s retreating form.

And then I sit there in the bedroom, my eyes skimming over my surroundings. There’s not much to it despite how large the space is. It’s clearly still a room being moved into. The most notable aspect of it, the one my eyes keep returning to it, are the double doors on the wall opposite the bed. Undoubtedly there’s a balcony on the other side of them.

The impulse to explore, an impulse I’ve been resisting, becomes undeniable.

Pushing off the bed, I make my way to the arched doors and open them. Frigid air hits my face.

I pull the robe a little tighter around myself and slip outside. The air has a wet coldness to it that is common here in the Bay Area, one that worms its way under your skin. It’s made all the colder by the frigid stone floor beneath my feet. But the chill is worth it for the fresh smell of pine needles and wet soil.