Cass’s laugh was soft. When she didn’t say anything else, he enjoyed the moment of quiet intimacy—him playing with her hair, her idling tracing circles on his stomach. He thought about what was on deck for tomorrow and knew there were a couple of questions he needed to ask.
Grayson looked down at her bent head. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”
Her fingers stilled, and she tensed a little but didn’t look up. “What?”
Something told him to tread lightly. “When you mentioned your family’s business, you said something about being naturally inclined to do the work.”
He stopped, not sure how to ask what he needed to know because it might lead to him revealing more than he was currently comfortable sharing. She let go of his shirt and flattened her hand against his chest as she tilted her head back to study his face. Whatever she saw eased the stiffness from her body.
“Is that your polite way of asking what I am?” she asked with a hint of teasing.
He cleared his throat and did his best not to squirm. “Yes.”
“The Ambrose name is my father’s, but the Alcmenes are my mother’s family. They also happen to be one of the Arcane twenty-seven.”
Now it was his turn to tense. After the carnage of the witch trials and the eventual creation of the Mystic Accords, twenty-seven Arcane Families had fled Europe. Some landed in America, where they forged agreements with the existing people of the First Nations, which led to the creation of the First Nation lands and the Mystic States. That had lasted until the late 1800s. Tensions exploded into a brutal civil war, and when the dust settled, three ruling powers emerged—the First Nations, the five-seat Arcane Council, and the US government. The First Nations and the Arcane Council held much more sway than the government, which represented the nonmagic-user faction known as Traditionalists. The majority of the five-member Arcane Council could trace their lineage back to one of the twenty-seven families, the true movers and shakers of the modern Arcane world.
“Unlike the other big-name Families,” she continued as if reading his mind, “my maternal line prefers to stay out of the limelight, which is why no member ever sat on the council.”
“That’s unusual.”
“It is,” she agreed. “But it’s also necessary.”
“How so?”
“Well…” Cass said reluctantly. She looked away and finished in a rush. “The Alcmene line is one of Seers.”
Grayson’s body locked with shock. “You’re a Memory mage?”
At his sharp tone she started to pull away, but he tightened his arm, keeping her close. Stilling, she said cautiously, “You know that’s a misnomer, right?”
“What?” he asked, too agitated to focus.
“Memory mage? The only ones who really work with memories are Muses, and because the classification of Seer was originally Memori, everyone got smacked with the label of Memory mage.” She sounded disgruntled.
Grayson was still trying to wrap his head around her revelation. “Okay, then, what kind of Memori are you?”
“I’m an Oracle.” She winced. “Well, a broken one.”
He wanted to dig into that, but he was drowning in a sea of relief, grateful that he might not be forced to walk away from her. An Oracle, I could handle… If Cass had said she was a Muse, he wasn’t sure how he’d have handled it. His experience with Muses had nearly destroyed his family.
Cass watched him. “Are you okay, Grayson?”
He shook his head. “I’m good.” Before she could press, he asked, “You said your maternal line is of Seers?”
Cass gave a slow nod.
“So your mother is…”
“A Sage, like Sofia and my yaya.”
The tension riding him took another step back.
Cass didn’t miss it. “Grayson, what’s going on?”
“I’ve got issues with Muses,” he said, determined to be as honest as possible.
“What kind of issues?”
