The Alchemist and an Amaretto: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Five

by Marie, Annette

My heart body-slammed my ribcage and my lungs seized as though the air had turned to cement. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Ezra as he looked from the pixie mistletoe to me. For an instant that stretched into an airless eternity, we stared at each other.

  But I wasn’t the only woman standing beside him.

  Valerie let out a jubilant laugh and reached for Ezra. Pulling his head down, she rose on her tiptoes and planted a motherly kiss on each cheek.

  “How charming!” she exclaimed. “You look so handsome with a clean shave, Ezra. I do wish you wouldn’t grow back that awful scruff the moment you get home.”

  When he said nothing, her amusement dimmed. She glanced from him to me, leaping to who knew what conclusion, but I couldn’t worry about that right now. I was way too busy concealing my complete internal freak-out over that lost moment beneath the mistletoe.

  “Well,” she declared, “I should find Aaron. The Lloyds, here from Wales—founding family of the ancient Mabinogi guild—want to speak with him about an open position for an advanced combat instructor.”

  She swept away. Seeming to shake himself out of a daze, Ezra glanced warily at the ceiling, but the pixie mistletoe had disappeared.

  My heart still hammered against my ribs. As I breathed deeply, a chilly breeze blew across my back; the open terrace door was a few paces away. “I’m going to step outside for a minute. I need some fresh air.”

  I walked into the wintry night, the darkness held back by gold lights strung overhead. As I moved to the far end of the terrace, shadows engulfed me and I breathed easier.

  Until I realized Ezra had followed me outside.

  He leaned against the stone railing, gazing at the dark garden below. In a few more hours, the druidess would be down there, exorcising the wolf spirit from Sin before she became a shifter.

  “This week has been all kinds of messed up,” I muttered. “I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

  “Me too. I don’t know how soon the madness will end, though. With that shifter still in the area, breaking into the manor …” He turned, putting his back to the garden. “I feel like we’re missing something, but I don’t know what.”

  I had the same feeling, but considering how much I had on my mind, it wasn’t a surprise I couldn’t sort out my thoughts. Between Eterran’s new ability to control Ezra in his sleep and my uneasy truce with the demon, and the elusive shifter and whatever its mission inside the manor had been … yeah. Just thinking about it triggered a headache in my temples.

  Throwing off the gloomy topic, I asked brightly, “Do you have your phone on you?”

  “Yeah?”

  I held my hand out and wiggled my fingers. He pulled his phone from his pocket and offered it to me. Letting him hold it, I tapped his camera app and flipped it to selfie mode, then squeezed myself against his side.

  “Your arm is longer,” I told him. “You take the picture.”

  Chuckling, he pulled me closer and held the phone out in front of us, our faces filling the screen. Ew, my chin looked terrible.

  I reached up to correct the camera angle. “Wait—”

  The flash went off, blasting my eyes. Spots danced across my vision.

  “Ezra!” I complained, snatching at his phone. “I wasn’t ready!”

  He lifted it out of my reach. “No, this one is perfect. I’m sending it to you.”

  “But—”

  His thumbs sped over the screen, then the phone disappeared back into his pocket. He grinned unrepentantly at my disgruntled pout, which only made me scowl harder.

  “I want a nice photo of—”

  The terrace door banged open. In a rainbow of dress shirts and gowns, a band of prattling alumni filed outside—including the gossipy trio.

  I snagged Ezra’s arm and pulled him to the terrace steps. “Let’s go this way.”

  He followed me with a curious glance back. “Something wrong?”

  “Not really, but I recently threatened to punch one of those guys in the face, so …”

  He laughed and my belly did a mini somersault. Why did that keep happening?

  “The first time Aaron brought me here,” he said, descending onto the grass, “I had trouble with a few alumni.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Aaron and Kai were training me in advanced combat techniques, and a couple guys spied on our lesson. They got this idea that I wasn’t a mage worthy of their academy.”

  My mouth twisted with anger. “Aaron and Kai have to team up to beat you in sparring.”

  Ezra grinned as we walked the long length of the manor. “That’s the only thing I got to teach Aaron and Kai—to hit a lot harder. But those mage kids had no idea I don’t rely solely on my aero magic to win fights, so when they jumped me behind the lecture hall …”

  “Ha! Got a rude awakening, did they?”

  “I might have broken their bones … just a little.”

  We reached a short flight of steps that led to a recessed door. Ezra pushed it open and let me into the dimly lit hall first. This must be the east-wing staff entrance Aaron had mentioned. I stopped just before the corner where the narrow hall joined the main corridor that stretched the length of the manor.

  Once we stepped around that corner, we’d be visible to anyone going in and out of the drawing room. We’d have no choice but to rejoin the party.

  I sighed heavily. “Do we have to go back?”

  When Ezra didn’t answer, I glanced up. He stood beside me, his gaze lingering in the vicinity of my red lips.

  At the turn of my head, he started. “Hmm?”

  An exhilarating rush rose from my toes up to my face, leaving a warm glow in its wake. A soft silence fell over us as we stood alone in the narrow hall.

  The heated flush rolling through me faded. Whatever that look of his had been, it didn’t mean anything. It wouldn’t change anything. We were friends. Really close friends.

  Gold dust sparkled in the air between us.

  My head snapped back. The clump of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, swishing imperiously as glitter rained down. At the sight of it, my overstressed heart threw in the white flag and quit beating entirely.

  “The pixie mistletoe,” Ezra observed.

  “That little bastard has been stalking me. What’s your problem, you leafy psycho?”

  Its answer was a renewed shower of glitter.

  I continued to stare at the leaves, afraid to look down and see Ezra’s expression. My mouth had gone dry and I had to clear my throat to speak. “Aaron said it’s bad luck to ignore the pixie.”

  “He did.” A long pause. “It’d be a shame to risk your love life.”

  As a silent breath shuddered through my lungs, I forced myself to meet his gaze. His mismatched eyes searched mine, his poker face infallible as always.

  “Um …” Breathe, Tori. “Should we …?”

  “Do you want to?”

  Yes. But I couldn’t say it. I’d spent weeks fighting my attraction to him. Our friendship was too important to risk.

  Waiting for my answer, he didn’t move—but for the second time in as many minutes, his gaze fell to my mouth. Such a subtle sign … and suddenly I was wondering if there had been other subtle signs over the past weeks or months that I’d missed.

  Gold dust clung to his hair and shimmered on his cheeks. Longing rose through me in an irresistible tide, and I couldn’t stop myself from stepping closer. Couldn’t stop my hand from rising or my fingertips from brushing along his smooth, chiseled jaw. I curled my hand around the back of his neck.

  The slightest pressure of my hand, the gentlest pull. He moved with my inviting tug, closing the gap between us until the barest whisper separated our faces.

  Breath locked inside me, I tilted my face up.

  His lips, soft and cautious, brushed across mine. Molten heat dove through me, but his kiss was tentative, exploratory. Unsure. Without thinking, I rose onto my toes and pressed my mouth hard into his, asking—demanding—more.

  For a
heart-stopping moment, he hesitated. Fear slashed me—that I’d gone too far, revealed too much, that he’d push me away.

  His mouth melded with mine and his warm fingers brushed my elbows, hands closing on my upper arms, drawing me closer. Our lips broke apart, came together again. Then his arms were sliding around me, and then we were pressed so tightly together I couldn’t breathe.

  Deep in my core, something quaked. Earth shifting, foundations cracking.

  His hand curled over the back of my neck, pulling me harder into his mouth—and every secret moment of desire I’d suppressed burned through me. My grasping fingers tangled in his hair—and all the guilty thoughts I’d hidden whenever we’d embraced bubbled to the surface. We pressed into each other, breath mingling, lips locked—and the lies I’d told myself evaporated in the heat flooding my veins.

  As I was coming apart on the inside, he crushed me to him. No longer shy or uncertain, he kissed me with hot urgency. I parted my lips and he took my invitation. The sensual slide of his tongue across mine pierced my center, a spear of blistering arousal—and my crumbling dam of denial burst into a thousand pieces I could never repair.

  My stomach dropped out of my body, leaving me weightless. My blood was boiling. Head spinning. Chest heaving. And I needed more.

  Our open mouths glided across each other. He gripped the back of my head, holding my lips to his with more force. His other hand was hot against the bare skin of my back, and his palm drifted up, fingers grazing my shoulder blades. The contact of our lips didn’t break, couldn’t break.

  I needed his ravenous kiss. Needed his clutching hands. Needed the press of his body, the sharp rise of his chest, his arms pulling me tighter and tighter to him as though he would never let me go.

  Except he did.

  As I spiraled out of control, his lips broke away. His hands released me. He stepped back, withdrawing from my grasp. Breaths coming fast, hair tangled from my fingers, he stepped back again, opening the gap between us even wider.

  Then, before I could speak, before I could lower my reaching hands, he turned away. In two long strides, he’d vanished around the corner—without a word, without a sound.

  Just … gone.

  I stared at the emptiness in front of me. My arms fell to my sides as I wobbled unsteadily, my entire world thrown off its axis. He’d kissed me like I’d never been kissed before.

  Then he’d run.

  A flutter of motion. The mistletoe drifted down from the ceiling, a pair of gossamer wings protruding from the clump of foliage. The pixie’s tiny, spade-shaped face peered at me out of the leaves, its minuscule features poised in question.

  I wrapped my cold arms around myself, my throat tight and eyes stinging.

  The pixie made a soft, inquiring chirp as though asking, “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter Twenty

  I returned to the party in a daze. Halfway across the drawing room, I realized only a few guests remained, conversing in low voices. What time was it? How long had I stood alone in that hall, reliving Ezra’s kiss over and over?

  My head spun and I felt fragile, unstable. I was a planet wobbling in orbit, about to fly off into space. Everything I’d told myself for weeks about friendship and attraction and my “lust crush” had been so, so wrong. Everything I’d willfully ignored for months had slapped me across the face and shouted, “You’re an idiot!”

  What had Sin told me yesterday? You’ve almost convinced yourself … but deep down, you know.

  Damn it, she’d been right. Straightening, I scanned the room for her. There, still at the buffet table. No sign of Brian. Good.

  As I bore down on her, a beaming smile lit her face. “Tori,” she gushed. “Where have you been? You were so right about Brian. He’s really cute!”

  I checked myself before I dumped my inner turmoil all over her adorable happiness. “Where is he?”

  “He’ll be back in a minute or two.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “I didn’t really notice him before because Kelvin is so … so much, you know? But Brian is amazing. He rivals Kelvin’s genius, I swear. He’s really, really smart.”

  “Is he?” I hadn’t gotten any “prodigy” vibes off the blushy, awkward apprentice.

  She widened her eyes in emphasis. “He’s amazing. Really. You should hear him talk about the theory of phantasm osmosis. I learned so much.”

  “Did you?” I peered more closely at her face. “Are you drunk? Alcohol won’t affect your anti-shifter potion, will it?”

  “No, no. Brian said it was fine. He gave me the last dose half an hour ago.” Her gaze sharpened. “Where have you been?”

  “I … I need to talk to you about that.”

  Desperation had leaked into my voice and she straightened. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Tobias walked through the door, spotted us, and hurried over. A waiter followed him, carrying a tray with a decanter and several cordial glasses.

  “Ladies,” he said, nudging his spectacles up his nose. “Have you seen Aaron?”

  “Nope,” I answered.

  The headmaster oozed disgruntlement. “When you see him, let him know the Langleys have left. They couldn’t wait any longer to speak with him.”

  “Oh, what a shame,” I muttered under my breath.

  Tobias’s eyes flashed. Oops, guess that hadn’t been under-my-breath enough.

  Too emotionally raw for tact, I couldn’t stop the next words from falling out of my mouth, laced with biting sarcasm. “Are you surprised he doesn’t enjoy hearing you and Valerie crap all over his accomplishments, pretend he never joined a subpar guild, and act like he’s incapable of making his own decisions?”

  Sin’s mouth hung open in shock. Er … maybe I’d gone too far.

  Tobias’s face remained carefully blank. He gazed at me for a long, painful moment, then turned to the waiter and scooped two glasses off the man’s tray. “Ladies, please enjoy the amaretto.”

  Sin and I accepted the glasses, and the headmaster walked off, shadowed by the waiter. I took a deep breath, trying not to cringe at my runaway mouth.

  “Is this the Lucchese amaretto you were telling me about?” Sin asked, kindly refraining from any commentary on my exchange with Tobias. She sniffed her glass. “I was disappointed I missed it.”

  I took a sip and spicy, nutty sweetness flooded my taste buds. “Yep, this is the stuff.”

  She took a small mouthful, and her eyes went out of focus before she swallowed. “Wow. Wow. It’s so sweet, and I love the nutty taste.”

  “Bitter almonds,” I informed her, jumping on the chance to trot out my dusty knowledge of liquors. “They’re poisonous to eat but amaretto only contains the almond oil, which isn’t poisonous. Neat, huh?”

  “Hmm.” She took another sip and held it in her mouth, savoring the flavors. “It’s really excellent. Have you tried Brian’s candies? They have a nutty taste like this too. They’re so good they’re practically addictive …”

  She trailed off, staring vaguely at nothing.

  “Sin?” I prompted.

  “Addictive.” She spun to face me, her eyes feverish and wild. “How did I not realize it? The tree—Tori, do you remember the tree? In the clearing? Where the shifters first attacked us?”

  “The …” I squinted, thinking back. “There was a wild almond tree?”

  “Yes!” She grabbed my arm. “Bitter almonds. They’re an alchemic ingredient! It’s rarely used in consumable potions because when it’s transmutated in certain ways, it becomes addictive.”

  I blinked.

  “Dangerously addictive,” she emphasized. “Enough to drive a person mad.”

  Understanding clicked, and I could hear it in my head—a thin bough crunching as the naked, delirious shifter tore his teeth through the bark. “Addictive enough to make someone chew on an almond tree branch to satiate their craving?”

  “Yes!” She paced two st
eps, then whirled back. “And the cherry trees by the lecture hall! Remember they were damaged like the wild almond tree? Cherry trees are in the same family.”

  “Addicted shifters damaged them to get an almond fix!” I nodded frenetically. “The shifter attacks on students all took place in the same area. I bet the shifters were drawn there by the cherry trees.”

  “And that sick shifter you saw—shaking, weak, disoriented, breathing fast, right? Cyanide poisoning. He must’ve been eating bitter almonds. Whoever altered the shifters used bitter almonds as an ingredient!” Her intensity faltered into confusion. “But why? I can’t think of any purpose they could serve in this kind of transmutation.”

  We frowned at each other. I remembered the naked shifter in the woods—his pained moans and desperate demands for “more.” Why add an unnecessary ingredient that caused such horrible side effects?

  “It’s addictive,” I whispered, stepping back in realization. “Sin, what if the alchemist added bitter almonds because they’re addictive?”

  “The alchemist wants the potion to be addictive? Why?”

  “For control. We assumed these mutated shifters came here to live in the woods—but what if they were created here? Some of them are really messed up, with strange wounds and stuff. That can’t be intentional.”

  She made a sound of understanding. “The alchemist must be experimenting, trying to perfect his transmutation, and he got the shifters addicted to control them while he experiments.”

  “But wouldn’t that mean,” I said slowly, “that if the shifters are here … the alchemist experimenting on them must be nearby too?”

  Sin’s face went white. “Oh. Oh no.” She jerked straight. “I need to ask Kelvin something.”

  “Huh? But Sin—”

  “I’ll be right back!” She took three steps, then whirled around. “Find the guys. I’ll get Kelvin. If I’m right—I might be wrong—but if I am—just get them!”

  She sprinted for the door, her dress flapping around her legs. I gawked after her, then looked around the room. The final guests had departed, as had most of the academy staff and guild members—heading home to spend Christmas with their families. The musicians had packed up. Two waiters were lingering by the buffet, waiting to begin cleanup.