The web tore off the wall and flew over my head. For a second it stuck to the doorway of the office, billowing like a sail in a strong wind, and then it was pulled toward the staff.

The last of the web vanished into the dark beak. Roman’s chant changed, receding from overpowering to soothing. The darkness melted, taking with it the somber choir and the bell. The top of Roman’s staff closed its beak and shrank.

I sat up slowly.

Roman raised his arms, as if accepting an ovation, and grinned at me, flashing white teeth. “Huh? Am I good or what?”

I clapped. Roman bowed.

I got up off the floor and walked to the dark wizard.

“Do I get a hug for being a hero?” He wagged his black eyebrows at me. “Maybe a kiss?”

For being an evil priest of an evil dark god, Roman seemed surprisingly normal. Either he was hiding his evilness really well, or it really was just a job for him. Priest of darkness, nine to five. It’s just the family business.

“No kiss?” Roman looked sad.

Why not? It’s not like Raphael owned me or we were together. It could be much simpler with someone like Roman. We could start fresh and clean. I looked at the dark wizard. Really looked at him. He had the most wicked eyes, dark and full of a strange fire. Here goes.

I leaned over and kissed him. His lips covered mine. He was good at kissing, not really claiming or demanding, but enticing, almost charming. And I felt nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. No heat, no spark. Nothing.

Stupid Raphael. I wished so badly I could be rid of him, but when he kissed me, I wanted to throw him on the bed and make him nuts. When Roman kissed me on the mouth, it felt like a peck on the cheek.

We broke apart. Roman grinned. Well, one of us had enjoyed it.

Roman’s gaze fixed on something over my shoulder. I glanced back and saw the fishing net hanging off the hook.

“That can kill you,” he said. “You better stand closer to me.”

“Any closer and we’ll be rubbing against each other.”

“Now that’s an idea…This can kill you, too.” He pointed at the monkey bust. “Also that.” The sandglass. “And those”— he pointed at the stone spheres—“those can kill everyone if used properly. This is like an armory for a mage.”

Roman pushed himself from the shelf, one arm protectively around my shoulder. “I think I need to see that staff now.”

I led him down to the office. “It’s in a glass case here. I didn’t touch it.” I realized he wasn’t next to me and turned. Roman stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the staff, his mouth slack.

“Kostyanoi posokh,” he whispered.

“What?”

“The Bone Staff. Here, hold this!” Roman thrust his stick at me.

I shook my head. “No. It bites things. I’ve seen it do it.”