The serum was in his bloodstream.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I lunged away from Ezra, my hand outstretched. Hitting the floor in an awkward dive, I seized the cold metal grip of my gun and swung it toward Brian.
The gray wolf landed above me, a paw planted on either side of my head and its teeth snapping in my face. I froze, the barrel pressed to the wolf’s chest—but one shot wouldn’t take it down, and that was all I could manage before it ripped out my throat.
A few yards away, Ezra had lurched to his feet, his hand pressed to his chest. His pole-arm slipped out of his other hand and clattered to the floor.
“Ezra!” I choked, trapped beneath the snarling wolf.
Brian walked around the table, his feet appearing in my line of sight. “How does it feel? I’ve been wondering what effect my serum would have on a mage instead of a shifter.”
Ezra listed sideways and his shoulder hit a shelf. He panted harshly, his face ghostly pale.
“Looks like it’s poisoning you.” Brian’s dress shoes shifted, his nervous energy leaking out. “There was a slight chance it might have the same empowering effect as it has on the shifters, but … at least your skin isn’t splitting from rapidly engorged muscles. That side effect took me a while to figure out.”
The wolf’s hot breath washed over my face and its foaming drool dripped on my neck. It licked its chops hungrily.
Ezra’s panting breaths rasped in the silence. He dragged his arm up and pressed his hand over his left eye.
Icy cold swept through the room. Crimson light sparked over his fingers, then blazed up his left arm in veins of red light that shone through his gloves.
“What?” Brian gasped.
Ezra pulled his hand off his face, revealing the deep scarlet glow that filled his left eye.
Brian lurched away. “Kill him! Quickly!”
The two wolves in the entrance charged Ezra, their fangs exposed. Red light flared over his arm as he thrust his open palm at the shifters. Power erupted—then exploded in a violent burst.
The wolves flew backward, the table flipped, and shelves tore away from the bolts that held them to the floor. The wolf on top of me ducked its head as the concussion blasted over us.
Shielded from the worst of it, I pistoned my fist into the wolf’s furred chest. “Ori amplifico!”
My magically amplified blow propelled the wolf off me. It crashed into the overturned table, tumbled off, and landed beside its packmates—who were already clambering up. “All but invincible” hadn’t been an exaggeration.
As I shoved off the floor, facing the wolves on trembling legs, an arm clamped around my shoulders. Ezra pulled me into his chest as suffocating cold and darkness plunged over the room. He didn’t bother with a demonic spell. He just flung his arm out and unleashed a band of seething crimson power.
The blast hurled the wolves into the walls. Blood misted the air. As they crashed to the floor, yelping in pain, the door banged open. Hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, Brian bolted outside. The wolves fled after him, their tails vanishing through the door.
Holy crap. Gasping for air now that we weren’t in immediate danger of annihilation, I turned my head to thank Ezra for saving my lame ass.
He grinned malevolently as power snaked over his arms, one still locked around my shoulders, holding me against him. Matching crimson eyes glowed like molten lava.
Not Ezra. Eterran.
“Hello again, Tori,” he crooned.
“You!” My relief collapsed under a fresh wave of panic. I shoved away from him but his arm tightened, his strength unmovable. “You broke your promise!”
“I keep my promises.” His eyes glowed more brightly. “The serum has affected my power and Ezra can’t control it. Even I am having difficulty.”
Red light flared over his arms. He stretched his free hand out and flexed his fingers. Writhing veins crawled up to his shoulder.
“Interesting,” he remarked.
This was so bad. Eterran had control of Ezra, the demon’s magic was acting up, Brian was escaping, and Sin was locked in a cage with her last chance at exorcism about to expire.
“Let me go,” I said, straining against his hold. “I have to stop Brian.”
I wasn’t expecting him to release me and almost fell on my face when he did. Stumbling, I whirled toward him. He met my suspicious stare, then strode past me, his arms and shoulders veined in rippling power.
“Wait,” I gasped. “What are you doing?”
Clutching my paintball pistol, I rushed after him. He strolled through the door and onto the lawn.
The full moon illuminated the three wolves arranged in front of the toolshed. Brian walked out, Sin’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. He moved easily, unburdened by her weight. Yeah, someone had been dosing himself with strength-enhancing serums.
Eterran gave our four adversaries a sweeping glance, then raised his hands. Intricate circles coalesced around his outstretched fingers, but power crackled wildly over the spells and the runes that had appeared in their centers fizzled and melted like wax exposed to flames.
The demon observed his misbehaving magic, then flicked his fingers. The circles dissolved. Power blazed over his arms as he brought his hands together, palms facing outward. He snapped his hands apart.
Raw magic roared outward and exploded across Brian, his wolves, and the toolshed. Trees quaked and toppled in a cacophony of snapping branches. The earth trembled.
“What are you doing?” I screeched, my heart in my throat. “You’ll kill Sin!”
Opening and closing his fists as power raged across his limbs, Eterran glanced at me, his expression easy to read: Do you think I care?
“If you want that amulet, you’ll deal with the wolves only,” I snapped. “I’ll handle Brian.”
His leering smile made me shudder. “As you please, payilas.”
Casual and confident, he ambled toward the wolves as they staggered onto their oversized paws, stunned and unsteady from the demon’s last attack. Leaving him to it, I ran toward the shed’s remains. Brian, groaning, sat up among splinters of wood. Sin lay beside him, still unconscious. I couldn’t tell if she was injured, but she was in one piece—which was more than I could say for the toolshed or mature trees Eterran had blasted into kindling.
I whipped my pistol up. Pop pop pop.
My first shot missed but the second two burst across Brian’s white dress shirt. Yellow stains splashed across his chest. He gasped in pain … but didn’t collapse into an immediate slumber.
“A sleep potion?” he sneered. “I’m an alchemist. The first thing I did tonight was take a universal antidote.”
Shit, really? Snarling, I fired again. Three more shots exploded against him and though he cringed from the impacts, he didn’t even wobble. What was the point of this gun? My track record for knocking out enemies was really stinking low so far.
Jamming the gun in its holster, I clenched my fist around my brass knuckles. Plan B.
Brian whipped a potion vial at my face. I dodged and it hit the tree behind me, shattering. Blue smoke roiled away from the melting bark.
In the yard, crimson power exploded. Brian’s eyes darted toward the detonation, triumph lighting his face.
“I had no idea,” he breathed. “No idea the power my serum could give a regular mythic. It’s wasted on shifters.”
Huh? It took me a moment to understand—then I threw my head back in a harsh laugh. He thought his silly little serum had given Ezra all that power? Yeah right! That was pure demon magic, not an alchemic transmutation.
Rigid at my laughter, Brian pushed onto his knees, his open duffle bag in front of him. “You’re just like Compton, laughing at my work with no idea what I can do. I spent months inventing that serum. It uses ingredients you can’t fathom, so rare you don’t even know they exist. Once I reveal it, I’ll be a hundred times more famous than him!”
“Infamous maybe,” I retorted.
His eyes bulged. Grabbing a vial from his bag, he ripped the cork out and dumped the liquid down his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“You think you’re tough?” he hissed. “Now I’m stronger and faster than you.”
He jumped forward, and before I could understand how swiftly he was moving, he’d buried his fist in my stomach.
I hit the ground on my back, diaphragm paralyzed with agony. The second the muscles unlocked, I flipped onto my stomach and vomited up what felt like my entire stomach and most of my internal organs.
A foot slammed into my ribs, lifting me off the ground. I crashed onto my side, unable to breathe and in worse pain than before. Rolling sideways, I ripped an alchemy bomb off my hip and flung it. It shattered and released an expanding white fog. Brian disappeared, along with the house, the dark trees, and the wolf-demon battle on the lawn.
Ignoring the agony that threatened to buckle my limbs, I scrambled up. Brian had potion-enhanced strength and speed but no combat training. His kick had been powerful but shitty—just like how I used to kick.
A shape appeared in the fog and I flung out my fist. “Ori amplifico!”
My knuckles hit an unknown part of Brian’s body and he flew backward, howling in pain. As he jumped up with extreme speed, I swung my brass knuckles again. They crunched against his throat. I’d been aiming for his face, but whatever.
He lurched, hacking for air. I swung again, but he evaded my fist—and tripped on his heel.
Wait. Sin had told me about speed-enhancing potions. They made your body faster but not your reflexes, rendering you critically clumsy.
I dashed away. He hurtled after me, but I ducked sideways and he flew past, unable to stop himself. As he whirled, I swung at his face again. He dodged, too fast for me, and his super-powered fist hit my sternum.
The ground and I met in another painful impact. Vaguely, I heard rapid-fire explosions nearby. Either Eterran was having trouble defeating the three wolves, or he was toying with them.
With no time to lie around in agony, I rolled up, scarcely evading another kick, and ducked behind a tree. Brian stumbled over a root. I bolted toward the most trip-happy terrain around: the shattered toolshed. Brian chased me, stumbling just often enough for me to stay ahead.
I dove as his fist swung past, grazing my updo. I landed on my stomach and shoved my hand into his duffle bag. Yanking out a random vial of black sludge, I flung it at him.
“No!” he yelled, snatching it out of the air. “Don’t—”
I grabbed another two bottles and threw them. He caught one but the second shattered on the ground.
“Stop it!” he roared.
Snatching up three round bottles, I lobbed them at the tree beside him. They smashed against the trunk, releasing clouds of colorful steam. The colors mixed. The mist began to bubble.
The cloud exploded. The blast knocked me flat, while Brian hit a tree and slid down with a breathless grunt. Pain throbbed through my limbs and despite my brain screaming at my body to move, I could only lie there and groan.
Brian dragged his head up, glaring at me as blood trickled from his mouth. The explosion had done more damage to him than me, and he didn’t seem keen to leap to his feet either.
“I,” he panted, “am the best transmutation alchemist of my generation. Everything was perfect until Sin got bitten. If not for her, I would’ve finished my experiments without anyone noticing.”
Slumped on my back, I returned his glare. “You’re a psycho, not a prodigy, and soon everyone will know it.”
Desperation twisted his face and his wild eyes darted around. “I didn’t have a choice, don’t you get it? Do you know what it takes to compete with the greatest alchemists? I had to do something radical. This job was perfect—perfect—but—”
This job? It hadn’t been a personal project?
“But the shifters—too many—getting out of control,” he babbled, almost pleading with me to understand. “I never meant for them to hurt anyone. Then the academy started investigating, and Compton got involved, and he was bound to realize I was the alchemist behind it, and—”
He gasped in a frantic breath, then hoisted himself to his feet. Before I could get my abused body moving, his fingers closed around my throat. He shoved me to the ground. With his other hand, he dug into his duffle bag. Vials spilled across the leaf litter and a steel box bounced off a rock with a loud clank, its lid popping open.
He raised a metal syringe. “I’ll be fine. I’ve perfected the ultimate transmutation serum—and with it, no one can stop me.”
I gargled against his squeezing hand, trying to warn him. He jammed the needle into his outstretched arm and injected the serum.
“I’ll be as powerful as Ezra now is,” he bragged, a crazed light in his eyes. “I don’t even need Sin anymore as proof that my serum can alter a … a fae … spirit …”
His hand on my throat weakened. He tipped over, out of his crouch, and landed on his butt. Blinking rapidly, he held up his hands and stared as though he couldn’t comprehend why they were trembling.
“This—this is normal,” he panted, breath coming faster and faster. “It’s transforming my body into—”
“It’s poisoning you, you idiot!” I sat up, ignoring my pain. “Is there an antidote?”
“No, no, I’m being transmutated into a—I’m being—” He ran out of air, his limbs shaking. “I—”
His face went white and he doubled over, vomiting. I lurched back.
“I’ll be … powerful …” he gasped between heaves, braced on his hands. “I’ll be … the best …”
“Brian, you need an antidote!”
He retched again, then lifted his white face, breath whistling through his lungs. Terror spread across his features. “There is … no … antidote.”
A shudder ran through him, then he pitched forward, limbs convulsing. Saliva foamed out of his mouth as he seized in the vomit-splattered leaves, throat clenching in spasms but no air entering his lungs.
I couldn’t do a damn thing as his convulsions reached a violent pitch, then weakened. When they finally stopped, his blank eyes stared at nothing, his cheek pressed to the earth, hands curled into claws from his final seizure.
“Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered weakly, unable to tear my eyes away.
“What a foolish genius.”
My head snapped around. Ezra—no, Eterran, his eyes glowing in the darkness, stood a few yards away. The writhing magic on his arms had calmed to a soft glow across his fingers.
I scanned him for injuries—none except for the bite on his forearm—and prepared to push my weak, trembling, aching body up. My wrist nudged the box that had spilled from Brian’s bag and a small piece of paper slid out.
Picking it up, I tilted it toward the light from the house. I could just make out crisp, hard-edged handwriting.
Brian,
Please find enclosed your final stock. I hope to receive a completed sample by the end of the month.
Yours most sincerely,
- X.
I flipped the steel lid open. A foam insert fit snugly inside the box, and five thin, shallow dents suggested narrow vials or test tubes had been safely nestled in the foam for transport.
What had Brian said? Ingredients you can’t fathom, so rare you don’t even know they exist. Had this box contained one of those ingredients? Provided to Brian by whoever was working with him on this “job”?
In the distance, a howl pierced the night. I jolted back to the present, remembering that even though we’d vanquished Brian and his final wolfy sergeants, the clock was still ticking. Sin’s deadline was almost here.
Tossing the paper, I staggered around the demolished shed to where Sin lay unconscious. I checked her for injuries—she seemed okay—then turned to the watching demon.
“Carry her to the car.”
Eterran’s eyes narrowed at my command.
“Do you want my help or not?” I threatened.
His mouth c
urved up; he found me amusing. He glided to Sin, scooped her easily off the ground, and walked out of the trees. I followed him, hands clenching at his leisurely pace. What time was it? How much longer did Sin have to be exorcised?
Ezra’s pole-arm was somewhere near the house, but I’d recover it later; we’d have to come back to clean up Brian’s mess anyway. Assuming Ezra/Eterran and I weren’t the only survivors of the shifter rampage at the Sinclair manor.
When we reached the car, I rushed ahead to open the back door so Eterran could lay Sin across the seat. Eyes on the demon, I retreated several steps. My hand slid to my hip and my fingers closed around cool metal.
Eterran backed out of the car, pivoted toward me—and froze at the paintball pistol aimed at his chest.
But I’d already pulled the trigger.
My final shot burst across his chest and bare upper arm in a spray of yellow potion. Furious red light flared through his eyes as his face went slack. He might be a scary demon, but Ezra’s body was—mostly—human, and a single shot was enough. He slumped against the car, then slid down the glossy black panel.
I waited, watching the top of his head, but he didn’t move. Exhaling shakily, I holstered my gun.
Then I looked from the unconscious demon mage to the car. Back to the demon mage. Back to the car.
Aw crap.
It took five minutes of heaving, straining, and pulling muscles to drag Ezra’s dead weight onto the floor of the back seat. Breathing heavily, I tucked his legs up, shut the door, and rushed around to the driver’s side.
“Why,” I panted to myself, “didn’t I shoot him after he got in the car?”
Slamming my door shut, I grabbed the keys and started the engine. The dashboard lit up, the clock glowing.
11:59.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tires screeched on the pavement as the car blasted around the final corner. The Sinclair manor was a dark shadow under the moon’s glowing face.
The clock on the dash read 12:16. But it wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be too late.
The Alchemist and an Amaretto: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Five Page 20