“The evil talent scout who finds the supernatural with the magic that the cult wants?”

“The very same. It’s a weaselly mage who lives in Hellebore Alley. I put a charm in his flat that will alert us if Anton contacts him.”

Carrow nodded, ideas flickering through her eyes. “We can’t get the transport charm from Anton since his place is too heavily guarded. But we can get it from the kidnapper.”

“But how do we know where the kidnapper will be?” Eve asked.

Carrow smiled. “We force the talent scout to tell the kidnapper that I’m the target.”

Icy fear pierced my chest. “You’re suggesting that you become bait.”

She nodded. “Yes. They don’t know my name. Those miserable weasels have no idea that I was the one to try to break into their temple. They saw me, but it will be Anton’s intermediary who tries to kidnap me.”

Something roared inside me. No. She couldn’t take the risk. Pain shot through my head. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, frowning hard. I shouldn’t care if she took the risk. She was nothing to me now . . . the spells had seen to it.

And yet . . .

I did care. Incredibly much.

I drew in an unsteady breath, forcing it to move smoothly through my lungs. I don’t like it.

But I bit back the words. It wasn’t my place to like it or not like it. I needed to move forward as if she were no different than anyone else. But it was maddening to still feel the dregs of the emotion while having no memory of the events that had created those feelings.

“I’m not suggesting that the kidnapper actually kidnap me,” she said. “I’d be totally outnumbered and definitely screwed if he—or she—actually got me. But I’ll be the bait and, once he arrives, you guys sweep in and grab him. We’ll steal the charm, and then we’ll all go to the temple together. Strength in numbers.”

“It’s the only way,” Mac said. “You saw how many of them there were. If you end up actually kidnapped, it’s over for you.”

She nodded, her face slightly pale. “You’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

I despised this idea.

But it didn’t matter.

Carrow looked at me. “You’ve found Anton’s talent scout. Tomorrow, when Anton tells him what magic they are looking for, can you compel the scout to tell Anton that I have it?”

It felt like pulling teeth, but I forced a nod. It was the only reasonable thing to do. And I’d be there to protect her. “Yes.”

“Good.” Carrow nodded. “We’ll figure out the perfect spot for me to hang out tomorrow night so that the kidnapper feels confident approaching, but you guys can be hidden and waiting.”

“Then we’ll nab the transport charm and break into the temple and save our friends.” Eve grinned. “I like this plan.”

I still despised it.

“Well, I’d say that’s that.” Mac brushed off her hands. “We have a plan, and now I need a bath.”

“Let’s head home,” Eve said. “Thank you, Devil.”

I nodded stiffly, trying to keep my gaze off Carrow.

Her friends left, but she lingered. Her gaze burned into me, and it was no longer possible to not look at her. I turned my attention to her face, confusion ricocheting inside me.

I shouldn’t want her. I knew all the reasons why, and everything I’d done to prevent it.

And yet I still did. . .

“The other night . . .” Her words trailed off.

Desire flashed through me, the ghost of a memory that I couldn't catch. It left behind the strongest sense of . . . loss.

“The other night,” I repeated her words. Should I tell her that I’d wiped my memory? “What about it?”

“What about it?” she asked.

I nodded. “What specifically concerns you?”

I hoped that the vague question would lead her into explaining to me what had happened the other night. My heart raced at the thought of what it might have been, like it remembered something I did not. An emotional phantom limb.

“I feel like that should be obvious,” she said.

“I don’t recall.” My words made her eyes flash with hurt and anger. I’d definitely said the wrong thing.

“There’s no way you don’t recall.” She frowned at me. “What’s going on, Grey?”

“You call me Grey?” The words escaped before I could consider taking them back.

“What the hell happened to you?” she demanded. “You’re the ice man again, and there are clearly gaps in your memory.”

I nodded stiffly. No point in pretending I hadn’t done what I’d done. “I asked Cyrenthia to erase parts of my memory.”

“You what?”

“I retained the memory that we are—were—Cursed Mates. And, also, all memories of our work together on things like this. But it was too dangerous to keep feeling the way that I did about you, so I asked her to erase the good between us. The softer parts. They’re gone.”

Hurt flickered in her eyes, and she stepped back. “That was . . .” She swallowed hard. “That was smart. Maybe I could do the same.”

No.

If she didn’t remember, then it would be like it had never happened. Somehow, that felt unbearable.

“It was the safest way,” I said, my words weak to my own ears. “I—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” She nodded, her eyes bright. “It was smart. Good thinking.”

“Carrow—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved and spun, striding from the room.

I reached out for her, my heart twisting in my chest in the strangest and most unfamiliar way. Seeing my hand stretched out in front of me made me feel lovesick and stupid. I clenched my fist and drew it back.

What the hell had I done?

15

Carrow

I hurried through the dark hallways of Grey’s tower, my eyes prickling with tears that I refused to let fall.

Was this all a game to him?

Something he could just toss aside at any time? Erase his memories and chuck it in the bin like it had never existed?

No—it was the opposite. Far from a game, which was why he’d given up the memories. It had been necessary.

Still, I drew in an unsteady breath, pain slicing through me. I knew it was the smart thing for him to have done, but it still hurt, of course.

That dream we’d had…

He doesn’t remember the dream.

He doesn’t remember any of it.

Holy hell, it was all gone for him. Yet I still held onto it, the only one who remembered what had happened. The best night of my life, and I was the only one to remember.

But it was for the best. We were determined to stay away from each other, and we’d done a good job.

Until our magic had dragged us together, our subconsciouses unwilling to stay apart. Fate was so strong—so determined—that we had to fight this with everything we had. Which included erasing our memories.

I was going to do the same.

As soon as this was all over, I was going to Cyrenthia and demand that she erase my memories, too. I couldn’t hold onto this alone. I didn’t want to.

And yet . . . I did.

Finally, I reached the entry foyer. Miranda stood at her desk, her face impassive. Her dark hair was pulled up in a neat knot on top of her head, and her blouse and pencil skirt were perfectly pressed, as usual.

I turned to her. “Does he seem different to you?”

“I’m uncertain what you’re referring to?” Her voice was so blandly polite and her expression so passive that I knew something was up.

Miranda and I had not grown close exactly, but earlier that week we’d bonded over our worry for Grey. She’d even violated his rules to tell me when he returned from wherever he’d gone. And yet, now . . .

She was as cold as when I’d first met her.

I just nodded. “All right.”

She gave me a bland doll’s smile, and I turned to leave. The air was fresh and cool as I stepped out into the moonlight. It was dreadfully late at night, and the city was dead silent. Eve and Mac waited for me in the courtyard.

“Well?” Mac raised her eyebrows. “What happened?”

“He forgot me.” The words made my chest ache.

“Forgot?” Confusion echoed in Eve’s voice.

“A spell of Cyrenthia’s.”

Mac and Eve’s jaws both dropped.

“That’s dangerous,” Mac said. “The mind doesn’t like having holes like that.”

“He must have insisted.”

At my side, Cordelia appeared. She looked up at me, her little masked face pinched in concern.

I saw it. She wrung her tiny hands. He did insist. Want me to go have a wee in his shoes?

It was tempting, that was for sure. But I just shook my head. “Thanks, pal, but no. It really was the smart thing to do, and I’m being silly.”

“We should tell the witches what’s up,” Mac said. “They’ll want to know, and they would provide good backup.”

I nodded. “Smart. Let’s go do that.”

An hour later, after explaining our plan to a group of bloodthirsty witches and coming up with the perfect bait plan, I arrived home as the sun was rising. Mac was in her apartment down below, and Eve had gone to her place just down the street.

I let Cordelia and myself into the little flat just as my stomach grumbled.

Cordelia made a noise of agreement at my side. You and me both, sister.

“The kebab place is closed, but there’s plenty of snacks in the kitchen.”

I’m not sure I’d say plenty.

“You been going a bit wild, lately?”

Depends on how you define wild.

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth—the first since Grey had told me he’d forgotten me. I should probably start calling him the Devil again. The idea made sadness shoot through me, so I shoved it aside and got to work in the kitchen, unearthing whatever snacks Cordelia hadn’t murdered in the last week.