The Blood Alchemist (The Final Formula Series, Book 2) (22 page)

“I’m on my way.”

I hit end and offered George his phone. “He’s coming.”

George and Henry were already moving, pulling crossbows from the leaves beneath a nearby thicket.

“Brian, restrain her,” George barked.

“But—” Brian began.

“Forget the Element. There’s been a change of plans. Make this look good.”

Brian caught me by the upper arm and pulled me to him, my back to his chest. Something cold pressed against my throat, then I felt the bite of a blade: his Bowie knife.

I glanced back at George, but both he and Henry were gone.

“He’ll smell your blood,” Brian whispered. “He won’t like that.”

The air wavered a few feet in front of us. A pool of darkness gaped open and spit out a familiar black dog. His glowing green eyes fixed on us and a snarl stood my hair on end.

“They’re loaded with my bullets. Rowan’s inside,” I whispered. “Please, James.”

James glanced at the rifle Brian had leaned against the tree, then raised his eyes to his brother and lifted his lips.

“Try it, and I’ll slit her throat before you reach me,” Brian said. “Then George and Henry will finish the Element.”

A shimmer of darkness, and James the man knelt in the snowy leaves before us. “Call George back, and I’ll—” James twisted to the side, but I didn’t see the quarrel until it thumped into the ground where James had been.

“Don’t presume to make demands, little brother.” Henry stepped out of the thicket across from us. He moved with ease, not even snagging his clothing on the thorny branches.

James snarled again. It was a sound no human throat should be able to make.

Henry tossed aside the empty crossbow and jerked a thin blade from his belt. A throwing knife?

“You’ll never hit me with that,” James said.

“Who said I was aiming at you.” Henry’s lip curled and his gaze settled on me.

Brian laughed, not worried about Henry’s knife hitting anything but its target.

James didn’t comment. He sprang, hands reaching for Henry.

A thunk, and James crumpled to the ground at Henry’s feet, face-first in the snow. A quarrel protruded from his back, still quivering from impact.

George stepped into my peripheral vision, his crossbow in hand. “Nice work,” he told his brothers.

Henry sheathed his knife, then regarded me with his permanent sneer. “Let her go so she can cry over his dead body again.”

Brian laughed and took the knife from my throat.

I pressed my hand to my neck, and my fingers came away slicked with blood. Not a huge amount, but more than I expected. The sight made my knees weak.

“Now the Element?” Brian asked.

“In a moment,” George answered.

“What?” I faced him. “But I did as you asked.”

George ignored me. “Brian, get that collar on James.”

Brian pulled a familiar iron collar from the large flap pocket on his coat, and began to secure it around James’s neck. Did he just carry the thing around on the chance of finding James, or had they hoped he’d be with Rowan today? I didn’t ask.

Once the collar was padlocked in place, Brian gripped the quarrel and jerked it out of James’s back.

James gasped and pushed himself up on his hands and knees. “Damn you,” he said through clenched teeth. He might be dead, but he still felt pain like everyone else.

“Brian, clean up the blood.” George said.

“You don’t want to—” Brian began.

“Later.”

“George, I give you my word,” James said, looking up at his brother from his knees.

“The collar stays on,” George snapped. He took a breath and continued in a more level tone. “Brian, the blood.”

Brian dropped to a knee behind James and caught him by the back of the iron collar.

Unease washed over me, and I took a step toward them. “What are—”

Henry caught me by the upper arm and pulled me back. “Watch.”

Brian leaned down and ran his tongue across the wound in James’s back. James sucked in a breath, his shoulders tensing. He tried to pull away, but Brian tugged him back.

“What the hell?” I wanted to go to James, but Henry’s hand was already crushing my biceps.

Brain lapped the blood from his brother’s back, unmindful of the audience. A moment later, he released the collar and leaned back. The skin of James’s back was free of blood—and injury.

“Holy crap.” I stared at Brian as he got to his feet. He rubbed the back of his hand across his lips. Even in the bright light of day, I could pick out the glow in his hazel-green eyes. “You healed James?”

“We are our brother’s keepers, alchemist.” Henry leaned down to speak in my ear. “Take heart. Now he won’t bleed out.”

James knelt in the leaves, frowning up at us. “What are you going to do?”

“Me?” George asked. “Nothing. You’re going to go collect the Element.”

“I am?” James didn’t look convinced.

George removed a slim tin from the chest pocket of his coat. I wasn’t sure what it was until George slid a quarrel from his quiver and dipped it into the tin.

I stared at the iridescent paste that coated the tip as George presented it to James. It was the Extinguishing Dust formula Neil had stolen from me. That’s how the Huntsman boys had knocked out Rowan’s power last time.

“You have three minutes,” George told James. “Once time is up, Henry gets to show the alchemist his knife collection.”

James sprang to his feet, the padlock clanging against his iron collar. “Perhaps I’ll put the quarrel through his eye.”

“You could,” George agreed, “but then, who will save the Element?” He gave Brian a nod.

A grin creased Brian’s face as he retrieved his rifle from where it leaned against the tree. Without comment, he turned and ran into the woods. A few strides into the foliage, he seemed to vanish.

“He has enough of your blood in him to make this interesting,” George said.

James snatched up Henry’s discarded bow and took the quarrel from George’s hand.

“And James,” George said as he turned to go. “If that collar vanishes from your throat, we kill them both.”

James held his gaze for one long moment, then turned and sprinted for the Institute. He didn’t bother using the trees for cover, but ran for the recessed door I’d exited through. I wondered if he was following my tracks in the snow, or something else. With that collar on, he wouldn’t be able to see souls.

He skidded to a stop just before reaching the door. The distance was too great to tell for certain, but I’d swear he was scenting the air. Abruptly, he turned and ran for the front of the building, ducking behind a few shrubs before slipping around the corner.

“Do I really get to use my knives?” Henry’s voice broke the silence.

George gave him a humorless stare and walked over to us. Without comment, he pulled my hands in front of me and bound them with a cable tie.

“Why are we bothering with the Element?” Henry asked. “We have what we need.”

“Insurance. We know Element blood works.” He gave the cable tie a tug then stepped back. “Make her scream.”

Henry chuckled. “But three minutes aren’t up.”

“He’s trying to goad James into action,” I said.

George’s attention shifted to me, though his expression didn’t change.

“Whatever.” Henry fisted his hand in my hair and jerked my head back. “It’s fun either way.”

“I won’t scream.” I knew that was probably untrue, but I’d hold out as long as I could. I refused to be their accomplice in this. Any more than I’d already been, that is.

Henry’s hand came to rest on my cheek; then I felt the cool brush of steel along my cheekbone. “You don’t need both eyes to brew us that formula.”

I lifted my bound hands, trying to catch his wrist; then the blade bit into the soft flesh beneath my right eye.

I screamed.

Henry released me with a laugh.

I stepped away from him, raising my hands to my face. A gash leaked blood along my right cheek, but that seemed to be the only damage I’d suffered. I turned to keep both Huntsman boys in view and discovered George was gone.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Henry said.

I wasn’t going to be his captive; I turned and ran toward the Institute. I made it about ten yards before I was tackled from behind. Henry took me to the ground, and I landed on my stomach in the snowy leaves. I thrashed around, trying to wiggle out from under him. He caught me by the hair and pulled my head up, painfully arching my spine.

“Rowan!” I screamed. I wanted to add
run
, but Henry ground his knee into my over-arched back, and I whimpered instead.

“Now, now,” Henry chided. “You’ll spook the prey.”

“Hurt him, and I won’t brew you the Formula,” I whispered.

“You’ll do what we tell you to.”

“If you really think that, you’re a bigger dumbass than I realized.”

He slammed my head into the ground. The move surprised me, and I took the impact full in the face. When he pulled my head up again, my nose and lower lip were bleeding.

“Get off her,” Rowan said.

I blinked my tearing eyes, shocked to find him standing over us.

“Envious?” Henry asked. He pulled my head back further, and his opposite hand found my waist and slid upward. He never reached his goal. Rowan tackled him.

I managed to roll clear and, for a moment, just stared at them. How had Rowan found us? And why didn’t he ash—

A hand caught me beneath the arm and George hauled me to my feet.

“Enough.” George held a crossbow in his other hand. He lifted it and fired. Rowan and Henry were still locked in combat, but the quarrel flew true and thunked into the back of Rowan’s right shoulder. His right arm dropped to his side, and Henry used that moment to land a solid punch to Rowan’s chin. The hit threw Rowan back, and he landed with a pained grunt, no doubt driving the quarrel deeper.

Rowan rolled onto his side, then pushed himself to his knees. That’s when I noticed a second quarrel in his calf.

Leaves rustled behind us, and I turned to watch Brian shove James forward. An empty crossbow slid from James’s fingers.

Rowan was powerless.

“Bind him,” George threw another cable tie to Henry. “We need to get moving.”

“Why not just kill him?” Henry waved a hand toward where Rowan knelt in the leaves.

“When the time comes, I’ll give you the honor.” George caught my arm once more, and pulled me along with him as he walked away.

Chapter
17

G
eorge’s 4x4 wasn’t big enough for all of us. I sat sandwiched between him and Henry while Rowan, James, and a protesting Brian rode in the bed. The temperature was only in the mid-thirties today, but at least Brian was dressed for it in his hunting gear. Rowan wore his long wool coat, but poor James had nothing at all.

Worse than the temperatures and the wind chill was the length of the drive. George drove east for over an hour, taking narrower and narrower back roads until it seemed there was no road at all, just a couple of ruts between the trees. The houses grew smaller, and the space between them larger. The last one we’d passed was several miles from the little cabin where George finally stopped.

Henry grunted as George shut off the engine. “Looks just like I remember.”

“Bring her inside.” George opened the driver’s door and climbed out.

Henry gripped my arm and manhandled me out of the truck. George was giving Brian orders to move the others inside as well, but I didn’t get to stay and check on them. Henry hadn’t released me and now pulled me toward the cabin. I didn’t put up a fight. That would just earn me more bruises.

The cabin smelled of dust and disuse. George followed us into the front room and lit an oil lamp. As the light filled the room, I sucked in a breath as glinting eyes stared down from the walls around us. Dozens of stuffed animal heads decorated the space: deer, elk, bear, boar, and several other exotic animals that no longer roamed these woods—or never had.

“Come.” George turned and led me toward a darkened hallway.

I followed on hesitant feet. The hall was short, containing only two doors. George opened one and waved me in ahead of him. So far, he hadn’t shown any physical interest in me, but that didn’t make me any more comfortable about entering a bedroom with him. I tried to rotate my hands, but the cable tie around my wrists limited my mobility. Even if I had a potion—that worked—I couldn’t throw it.

My steps hesitant, I moved forward and then came to a full stop once I saw what the room contained.

“A lab?” I asked, stunned. And not just a makeshift one. There were counters and cabinets, a sink, and even an exhaust hood on one wall.

“So it would seem,” George answered.

I gave him a frown and moved further into the room for a better look.

Canisters for film development sat prominently on the counter in front of me. On a nearby shelf, bottles of developer, acetic acid, and fixer took up most of the space. A clothesline with clips stretched across the back of the sink, and large square trays and tongs occupied a nearby dish drainer. A photo lab.

And yet the windows contained only pull-down blinds, and the bulb overhead was incandescent.

I began opening the cabinets, the movement awkward with my bound wrists, and found a large hot plate and a collection of heavy stockpots. But the most out-of-place items were the cold medicine boxes in the cabinet over the sink. There were dozens of them.

“Well?” George demanded.

“It’s a meth lab.”

His brows rose.

“A dealer, not a user.” I closed the cabinet I’d been investigating and turned to face him. “Are you thinking of branching out?”

George crossed his large arms. “Cousin Robert was into photography.”

“It’s a cover. Cousin Robert is a drug dealer.”

George frowned. “Was.”

Gooseflesh pebbled my arms. Was Cousin Robert lying out in the woods somewhere, a crossbow bolt through the heart? I didn’t ask.

“Can you work with what’s here?” George demanded.

“Yes.” That was the truth. It was actually a pretty nice set up. “All I need are the ingredients.”

George’s hazel eyes narrowed. “You’re stalling.”

“I can’t create a potion out of thin air. Shall I make you a list?”

He frowned at me a moment longer, and then gave me a curt nod.

I found a pen and paper in one of the drawers. “This would be easier if you removed this.” I held up my bound hands, displaying the cable tie.

“No.”

I sighed and started writing. It wasn’t easy, but I managed. Various possibilities occurred to me—things I could brew instead. But what was the point? They would just fail.

Of course, my potion didn’t have to be alchemical. These idiots were going to ingest whatever I brewed.

I thought of Lydia and considered a more permanent solution—but would James…and Rowan approve? I was supposed to be seeking redemption. Killing these men in cold blood probably wasn’t the solution—even if the three in question were murdering psychos themselves.

I sighed and ripped the sheet of paper from the pad and passed it to George.

“I listed the chemical name followed by a source of that compound if you can’t find it in the pure form.”