by Holly Evans
It was about time someone told me what the fuck was going on.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I couldn’t face trekking through the public transport quagmire again, and the cab driver was late. I paced around the grass running the images of the thing through my mind. It looked as though it was in pain, the fear was almost palpable. I found myself feeling sorry for it. I pushed the thought aside; it was another beast, and it needed to be put down before a human stumbled across it. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped that another hunter found it first. I was beginning to realise how many people I’d pushed away when the cab driver pulled up. Quin would have been able to alert a number of other hunters and pull a team together. I’d never been on good terms with them. I hadn’t tried.
The cab driver gave me an impatient glare as I walked around and got in. “Malá Strana.”
He raised an eyebrow at me and said in rough English, “Address, please.”
I smiled sweetly and called up the small well of patience. I didn’t know the alchemist’s exact address; I’d always left it to Quin. I wasn’t going to say, “The alchemist’s around the back of Starbucks.”
“Starbucks, in Malá Strana.”
He nodded and took off down the road while I was struggling with my seatbelt. I clung onto the door handle with one hand as he flew around the bends and took me back down the hill. I caught a quick glimpse of the view over the city from the top of the hill before we careened downwards and raced a tram to the bottom. I lurched forward when he hit the brakes and the driver cursed out the red light. The public transport option was looking better and better.
People were beginning to mill around as we got closer to the tourist centre of the city. The driver pulled up by the side of the road, and I jumped out before he threw me out. He gave me a dark look when I didn’t give him a tip; I bit my tongue and held back the comment about his driving. Instead, I looked over to the prettiest Starbucks in Europe. The dark wooden shutters sat open around the arched windows that were recessed into the pale-cream stone. Classic rectangular windows surrounded by elegant grey decorations were carefully placed on the floors above. It somehow managed to be both modern and traditional. My stomach growled when I smelled the fresh trdelník cakes being cooked, vanilla and a splash of cinnamon. They claimed that they were a very old Czech delicacy, but in truth the simple cakes were very much a modern invention. Not that I cared: Traditional or not, they tasted fantastic. I wandered past the wooden shed-type affair where the trdelník were being made fresh, and ignored my stomach in favour of the road leading past Starbucks. I had to find the alchemist.
Alchemists were often good sources of information, as everyone went to them for their potions and lotions, including Quin. He had talked about learning alchemy, but I shut him down; I was beginning to feeling guilty about it. I should have listened and encouraged his passion. He’d always been eager to learn and he drank in everything the alchemists were willing to tell him. He wanted so badly to train properly, but I didn’t want him losing sight of what alchemy was. Magic. It was at the heart of everything we stood against. Everything we protected the city from. I swallowed down the fear and grief that was swelling and scolded myself. He was alive and well. It wasn’t the time for regrets.
Shiny red topless cars sat parked on the corner, waiting to give tourists a tour around the block. It had always seemed a shame to me, to see the city that way. It’s too tactile to see from the back of a car, it needs to be walked. I picked up my pace when I spotted the old-fashioned-looking alchemist, complete with herbs in the window. It labelled itself as an old lékárna. A pharmacy was a nice little side business and cover. I pushed on the well-worn dark wooden door with the brass handle. It wouldn’t budge.
I tried again, frustration and confusion clouding my mind. I finally looked at the opening times to see I had to wait five minutes. With a heavy sigh, I turned and leaned back against the front window, and waited. I reminded myself that they didn’t know what was going on, and I hadn’t warned them that I was coming. It was perfectly reasonable to be closed. The cool vial in my pocket brushed against my hip and reminded me why I was there. That beast was unlike anything I’d seen before. I’d grown up hunting the supernals who dared break the simple rules. I knew them inside out, but that thing…
It could have been a misformed lycan, perhaps it came from a poor bloodline and it couldn’t shift properly. I hadn’t heard of intense inbreeding, they usually had too much weight placed in strength and good blood for that. That was the only thing I could think of, though. The lock clicked and the door opened. I burst inside, looking for the alchemist. A startled guy a little younger than me stared at me.
I gave him what I hoped was a gentle smile and said, “I’m looking for the alchemist.”
He blushed a little and grinned at me before he pointed to a narrow door behind the counter. His dark brown hair fell over his eyes and he stood rooted to where he was. I gave him a nod of thanks and headed behind the counter, hoping that the alchemist would be of more use.
I paused for a moment as I felt the constrictive cool of old magic surround me. I wished I had Quin’s magic dispersal powder on me. Taking a deep breath, I continued down the narrow passage and emerged into a large, chaotic room. The ceiling was hidden above hanging herbs, flowers, and varying vials and other odds and ends. I didn’t know where to look first.
Bottles, vials, and other containers filled every space on the shelves covering the walls. The tables were equally as covered in varying bowls, bottles, and glassware. There were more colours than I thought were possible to conceive of. I knew that Quin would be grinning if he saw that place; I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement on his behalf. I wanted to run my hands over the leather-bound books that were piled high under one of the tables.
A collection of pale pink and orange orbs floated into the room ahead of an elf. I kicked myself for forgetting that the damn alchemist was an elf; they were notoriously difficult to deal with. His long pale blond hair was tied back. He was absorbed in a notebook that he held in one hand while gesturing to himself with the other. His cupid bow mouth was smiling to himself; I couldn’t help but notice his blue-green eyes. I had no doubt that many women before me had fallen into them.
I cleared my throat and pulled out the vial with the drops of blood in it. He looked up at me and his smile broadened.
“You must be Evelyn, the other half of the Hawke twins.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I kept a smile on my face as my hand gripped the vial a little closer; I couldn’t help but feel that I was starting things on the back foot, never a good position to be in with an elf. His pale skin highlighted his bright blue-green eyes; I found myself admiring the lithe body that hid beneath a loose white shirt and half-apron tied around his waist.
He cleared his throat and smirked at me, “When you’ve quite finished…”
I tried not to blush and glared at him before I held the vial out in front of me. “I took this blood from a creature that I need you to identify.”
He carefully placed the notebook down on top of a small stack of similar notebooks at the edge of a workbench before he pouted at me. He shook his head softly and casually leaned against the edge of the workbench, his strong lean arms crossed in front of his chest, and I sighed. I was very definitely in a poor position.
“You haven’t even introduced yourself, and yet you make demands?”
I smiled in what I hoped was a polite way as I stepped forward, decreasing the space between us. His eyes danced with amusement.
“As you’re aware, I’m Evelyn Hawke; I believe you dealt with my twin, Quin. A creature ran at me earlier. It was unlike anything I’ve seen before. It may be linked to Quin’s disappearance.”
His face darkened at the mention of Quin’s disappearance; he pushed himself off the workbench and approached me. I was aware of him standing a head taller than me, although I was a little distracted by the scent of cherry blossom that surrounded him. Somehow it
suited him.
“I’m curious to see what you have for me, but I’ll require a sacrifice.”
His mouth quirked into a dark smile as his eyes wandered down my throat and paused on my chest. I felt naked under his gaze; that both terrified and thrilled me. I had to think quickly. Elves always demanded a sacrifice, I knew that; I should have prepared better.
I mentally kicked myself before I said, “I’ll sacrifice my time and energy. I usually charge a rather large sum for my time…”
He took another step closer to me, within arm’s reach. I refused to back down.
He leaned a little closer to me; I felt like a mouse that he was toying with.
“I have a little errand for you, Ms. Hawke. Retrieve a recipe for me and I’ll look at your blood.”
He held out his hand for me to give him the vial. I saw no other choice; it was the only potential lead I had for Quin. What if that thing was Quin? He hadn’t looked like him but… My mind began to whir, but the scent of cherry blossom snapped me out of it. His elegant fingers brushed over mine; I refused to look into his face. He was just another supernal, yet I felt like a foolish girl.
I handed him the vial and crossed my arms. “I’ll need some details.”
He pursed his lips and growled, “You’ll need some manners.”
He turned and scribbled something down on a scrap of paper before he handed me a small pale blue bottle with a copper stopper, and the note. I looked down at the paper to see an address and what appeared to be instructions.
“I don’t have all day, Ms. Hawke, kindly stop cluttering my workshop.”
I shot him a glare and muttered about it being a simple errand; I had more important things to be doing. I slipped back out into the lékárna, where the shy guy watched me from behind the counter. I offered him a small smile while I tried to translate the elf’s scrawl.
“Can I help?”
The guy was standing next to me with red cheeks; he was so softly spoken I barely caught what he said. I frowned, glad that he’d taken pity on me.
I showed him the note. “Can you read this?”
His eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he smiled broadly. “That’s his cousin’s house. It’s out near the botanical gardens. You’ll need the elf’s breath and the thief’s blood to unlock the magical seal around the recipe.”
That didn’t sound too difficult. I didn’t see why I had to get a stolen recipe. Surely he could write it down again or look on the internet. I bit back my comments; it was clearly important to the alchemist, and it could help me get Quin back. I thanked the guy and left. It was a fifty-minute trip out to the botanical gardens; the concept of a motorbike was growing on me.
The city had so many different faces. No matter how many times I saw it, I remained fascinated by the architectural choices, the melee of old and new. The bus ride had been interesting; I hung onto the bar for dear life, trying to keep my balance. I swore that the bus service could make extra money by advertising them as rollercoasters and thrill rides. The bus pulled into a small layby at the side of the road with a tall cream wall on my right and a beautifully simple cream building on the opposite side of the narrow road. The bus was soon vanishing into the distance, leaving me to look down at the scrap of paper to try and figure out what I was doing next.
I was feeling woefully unprepared and lost, but I needed to get Quin back. After a lot of cursing and some pacing up and down the road, I finally found a driveway tucked between some old bushes that grew up the tall walls. I strode down the driveway and wondered if it was too much to ask to walk in the front door. Fortunately, I wasn’t foolish enough to try that plan, although I wouldn’t have put it past Quin. I lacked his silver tongue, though, and pushed through the overgrown foliage to look around the back of the small house.
There was no light coming from inside, although the filth covering the windows made it difficult to be sure. There was no car in the driveway, but there had been fresh tracks left on the old thin gravel. Perhaps luck was finally on my side.
CHAPTER NINE
I kept close to the ground and ducked beneath the windows that looked out onto the overgrown wasteland that must once have been a beautiful garden. Scraggly rose bushes fought for space and light with bright yellow weeds and coarse grass. I focused on the worn back door, with the peeling blue paint that revealed old grey wood. It was slightly open, swollen tight against the concrete step. I paused, listening intently for any sound. My heart hammered in my chest and my breath caught in my throat; every muscle was tense as I prepared to fight or run.
Nothing. I let out a long slow breath and crept closer. I peered into the darkness through the crack left open by the door; the musty smell clogged my nostrils. I fought back a sneeze. It certainly didn’t look at though anyone lived there. I thought elves were supposed to be known for their exquisite taste; the alchemist had certainly lived up to it. A thrill ran through me at the memory of his fingers running over my hand. I cursed myself for being so foolish and focused on the job at hand.
I allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness and still saw nothing. Satisfied, I put my weight against the door and cringed as it groaned and creaked under the pressure. It opened agonizingly slowly, but enough to allow me entry. I stopped, waiting for something to burst out of the darkness. Still nothing. I pulled out one of my knives and slipped into the room, keeping my body low. The scrap had informed me the recipe would be in some sacred room below ground; I began looking for a door or stairway heading down to the basement.
There were two types of elves: those who preferred being high up, and those that preferred being underground. The former were more useful and less likely to inflict some form of curse or plague on you. The latter were malicious and fortunately quite rare. I couldn’t help but feel a little better retrieving something of value from an underground elf; the less power they had, the better. I smiled to myself. For all I knew, the damn recipe was for cupcakes; it was exactly the type of shit that would have amused an elf. I told myself I didn’t care; I was doing it for Quin.
The floorboards creaked beneath me and barely any light managed to squeeze between the thick layers of grime on the windows. I moved as quickly and as light-footedly as I could. The kitchen, for lack of a better term for the almost barren room, offered nothing of use. The living room had a threadbare carpet covering the floor and small wooden table before an armchair that had springs poking up through the thin cushion. Ash filled the grate and covered the pockmarked rug. I couldn’t see a door, though.
I continued on into the dining room. The wallpaper peeled away from the walls, stained yellow with red drips in places. I shuddered as I saw the old brown markings embedded in the wood of the large table. What looked like claw marks ran up the edges; the varnish had been dug out, which left the old wood exposed to the air. There were no chairs, just a selection of rusted knives on blood-red cloths thrown up in a corner on a cheap metal table.
My last option was the doorway under the stairs. It remained firmly stuck in place when I yanked back on the handle. I kicked it in frustration; it moved inwards, just an inch. I gave it another good kick and it moved a little more. I soon took out all of my anger on the door. Everything that had gone wrong was vented onto the splintering wood. Finally, it gave. I stepped through and slowly walked down the narrow twisting stairs to find a well-lit room with bare stone walls and a dank concrete floor.
It smelled of damp earth and death. I curled my lip and wrinkled my nose; the sooner I could get in and out the better. I ran my fingers over the bottle the elf had given me, assuring myself that it was still present. I mentally kicked myself when I remembered that I needed the thief’s blood, too. A scuffling of footsteps and creaking wood above me gave me hope that perhaps I could retrieve some of his blood after all. I murmured a thanks to the gods for some small fortune. I firmly believed they were malevolent assholes who saw us mere mortals as nothing more than pawns and toys, but I tried to thank them on the odd times things went right. Just i
n case there was more at stake than I realised.
I pressed myself into a small dip in the wall, hoping to hide in the shadows and catch the elf by surprise. My muscles tensed. I slipped a throwing knife into my hand and waited. The upstairs clearly wasn’t lived in; there was no reason for him to hang around up there. Time crawled by, my breathing echoing in my ears, until, finally, footsteps came down the stairs.
They were heavier and more shuffling than I’d expected. It took me a moment to realise there was more than one set. I was trapped in the narrow passage. I couldn’t take on a group of them. A quick glance further down the hall told me I had nowhere to go. I had to rely on stealth and speed. I cursed under my breath; I’d thanked the gods too soon.
A broad form lurched into sight. Its head almost scraped the high ceiling. Its breath rasped and gurgled. I released a slow breath and threw the knife. It stopped dead in its tracks; the knife had hit home in its throat. It vanished in a puff of heavy smoke. I cursed again under my breath. I didn’t know what they were, but they were magical. I wished for Quin’s magic dispersal powder once more, and the idea of him learning alchemy was growing on me.
Two more creatures blocked out the light in the hallway. I caught a brief glimpse of grey-green skin and glassy white eyes. They were some summoned abomination. My instincts kicked in, and I used my throwing knives to take them down as quickly as I could. The hallway was filled with dark smoke that sat deep in my lungs and made me gasp for air. I eventually heard the liquid tones of an elf. His curses were foreign to me, but his exasperated tone was clear in any language.
Pain cut into my thigh through the smoke. I pulled my blade and slashed the area where the pain had come from. A swift kick caught my hip. I stepped away deeper down the hall, trying to get away from the smoke and see what I was up against. The warm trickle of my blood ran down my leg as I waited for some sign of my attacker. I saw a flash of pale hair and took a risk. I stabbed into the area just in front of where I’d seen the hair; the elf howled in pain. The smoke vanished and I could see clearly again. Deep purple blood ran down his pale skin; he bared his sharpened teeth at me and lunged with a manic expression. His eyes were wild, his lips pulled back to their limit. I dodged left at the last second and smashed his face into the hard stone wall.