Outrun

by Annabel Chase

  “We’re in the market for someone with alchemy skills,” I said. “Who’s the best member to talk to?”

  “That would be Tito.” The man scanned the room and pointed at a slender, dark-haired man standing at a table. He held a beaker of smoking blue liquid and seemed to be explaining something to the other men at the table.

  “Thanks.” I took a step forward, but the man stopped me.

  “You can’t go down there,” he said. “It’s members only.”

  “You mean men only,” Dani said.

  “Well, I suppose in a roundabout way…” the man began.

  “Not very roundabout,” Dani said. “More of a straight line.”

  “We’re here with a business proposition,” Bryn said. “But we can’t go into business with an organization that won’t let us enter the premises.”

  “Rules are rules,” the man said.

  Bryn’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “We are prepared to spend a considerable sum. It would be a shame for your group to miss out on an opportunity because you’re a…”

  “Give it a rest, Bryn,” Dani interjected. “He’s not budging.”

  “Is there a problem?” The man identified as Tito approached our group. “I couldn’t help but notice you up here and couldn’t imagine what would prompt a visit from four such lovely ladies.”

  “We would like to speak with you about a business venture,” I said, “but this man seems to think we’re not welcome here.”

  The man’s cheeks grew flushed and he began to stammer. “That’s not quite what I said.”

  “Nonsense,” Tito said. “You’re most welcome. Why don’t you start by telling me about your proposition and then I’d be happy to give you the grand tour of our facility?”

  The man gave a quick bow and scurried into the shadows.

  “We’ve started a company called Special Snowflakes,” Bryn said. “We plan to visit schools and help children celebrate their individuality.”

  Tito clasped his hands in front of him. “A wonderful purpose. And how does alchemy fit into your plans?”

  “We want to end every presentation with snowflakes,” I said. “The kids will absolutely love it.”

  Tito fixed his attention on me. “And what makes you think we’re the right alchemists for the job?”

  “A friend of mine said you approached him about creating a blood substitute for vampires,” I said. “We figure any alchemists who are capable of that can do something as simple as create snowflakes.”

  “But as alchemists, we transform matter,” Tito said. “If you only want snowflakes, you can rent a machine or hire a mage.”

  Cerys clapped her hands together. “This is the truly brilliant part. Many of these kids live in disadvantaged areas. Healthy meals are a problem. We want to transform vitamins into snowflakes and distribute them to the children, so that their systems absorb the vitamins without them knowing.”

  Tito’s eyes shone with interest. “An ideal project for our group. Many of our own members come from disadvantaged backgrounds. You’d be surprised by what they’ve managed to achieve despite the obstacles.”

  “I’m so glad we found you,” Cerys said. “I love the idea of working with someone who understands the needs of these children.”

  “We absolutely do.” Tito lowered his voice. “What’s your budget for a project like this?” He waved a dismissive hand. “A worthy project like this, I’m sure we can make it work. Our brotherhood is dedicated to improving the lives of the disadvantaged.”

  “Why don’t you show us your facility?” Bryn suggested. “We’d be interested in seeing other projects you’re working on…to improve lives.”

  “I never tire of singing the praises of my brethren.” He beckoned for us to follow him into the main workspace. “Members spend hours every day working to create new and exciting substances that can change the world.”

  “We certainly think our venture will change the world for the better,” Cerys said. “Nobody can argue with bettering the lives of children.”

  Tito clucked his tongue. “You’d be surprised. Your vision of a better future doesn’t necessarily match someone else’s, but I appreciate the purity of the thought.”

  We stopped at a table with a group of men arguing over a few beakers. One man consulted a document of calculations and symbols.

  “A bit of a heated discussion,” Tito said apologetically. “Tempers can run very hot when we’re trying to work through a problem. Alchemy is all about experimentation and that requires failure so that we may eventually succeed.”

  “Must take a lot of patience,” I said.

  “One of the most important virtues in our line of work,” Tito said.

  I surveyed the old factory. “This is such a great space. What happened to all the equipment for making the wands?”

  “They’re in the catacombs,” Tito replied and laughed. “Apologies. Not actual catacombs. That’s what we call the underground part of the old factory because it’s where items no longer of use went to die.”

  “I have a closet like that,” Dani said.

  “Have you ever managed to turn lead into gold?” Bryn asked.

  Tito wagged a finger at her. “If I have, I would never admit it. Some secrets are best kept.”

  “I assume not or they wouldn’t need to obtain funding for projects,” Dani said.

  Tito took the remark in stride. “You’re a shrewd one.”

  Dani flipped her strawberry blond hair over her shoulder. “Just observant.”

  “Good, then does that mean you’ve seen enough?” Tito asked. “Should we discuss your project in further detail?”

  “I know this is an odd request, but would you mind showing us the catacombs?” I asked. “I would love to see some of the antique equipment used by the original owners.”

  “I understand your interest completely,” Tito said. “I’d be happy to escort you down there. It isn’t often anyone wishes to admire the contents.”

  Tito guided us to the lower level and I nearly made a fool of myself tripping over the curled edge of a rug as we entered the chamber. Thankfully, Bryn caught me and kept me on my feet.

  “Apologies,” Tito said, and straightened the rug. “My brothers don’t always notice when things are askew. Their time down here is often spent in meditation, where it’s quiet.”

  “Is this rug from the original factory?” Dani asked. She moved to the side to get a better view of the busy design and rich colors.

  “It was here when we took over the building, so I assume so,” Tito replied. “We didn’t remove anything. We only carved out space for our own items.”

  The catacombs were a disappointment but not because of the contents. They were as described—discarded wands, ancient factory equipment that looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades, and well-worn books strewn across a variety of surfaces. It was an antique hoarder’s paradise, but there was nothing that suggested a connection between the brotherhood and the deaths or the prophecy.

  Dani got excited over a dusty grimoire and I had to remind her with a pointed look that we weren’t there to rummage.

  “But it has spells I’ve never even seen,” she said, flipping through the pages. “Clearly, no one here has an interest in it. It’s covered in dust.”

  “Well, they’re not all neglected,” I said. “I see a few perfectly good books here without a speck of dust.” I patted the book nearest to the edge of the table.

  “Well, of course that one’s been read,” Dani said. “It’s about alchemy.”

  She was right. It bore the blood alchemy symbol that I’d seen tattooed on Bernard.

  “This one isn’t,” I said. There were no words on the cover, only the faded image of a crow, its head cocked to admire the sky above. “And neither is this one.” I touched the cover with its image of a woman tending to the earth with a jug of water. She held the jug upside down over her head as droplets of water rained down on the ground. The covers were like works o
f art all by themselves.

  “Ooh, an ancient gardening book?” Cerys asked, her interest piqued.

  “I can see you are ladies of many interests,” Tito said with a chuckle.

  “We all love books,” Cerys said. “It’s one of the skills we hope to encourage among the children we encounter.”

  “I’ve always been fond of reading myself,” Tito said. “I was fortunate to have a teacher who took an interest in sharing his love of books with me.”

  “We don’t want to take up any more of your time,” I said. “We can put a proposal together and drop it off another day.”

  “I look forward to it,” Tito said.

  We left the catacombs and headed back upstairs where Tito escorted us to the exit.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Good luck with your work here.”

  “The same to you,” he replied, and closed the door.

  As we drove back to the academy, I tried to keep the feeling of disappointment at bay.

  “I really thought the catacombs might hold the answer,” I said. On the other hand, Tito wouldn’t have been so quick to show them to us if they harbored a murderous secret.

  “I hate to say it, but I don’t think the Hermes guys are responsible,” Cerys said.

  Bryn blew a disappointed breath. “I don’t know. Groups of guys in matching robes playing with chemistry sets are generally creepy and weird.”

  “Creepy and weird doesn’t necessarily equal homicidal maniacs,” Cerys replied.

  I was inclined to agree. Tito seemed like a man with nothing to hide. He showed us anywhere we wanted to see, unlike his friend at the front door, and appeared genuinely interested in our fake business venture.

  “There must be other alchemists out there,” I said. “We’ll have to make our way down the list until we find the right ones.”

  I only hoped we found them before it was too late.

  Declan and I sat together in the academy library, researching alchemy groups with known political agendas in order to narrow down the list. The hour was late and my roommates had dragged themselves off to bed, but I couldn’t bring myself to do the same. My sense of responsibility spurred me forward, not to mention the fact that Declan was still here next to me. With our knees touching, we had our own subtle alchemy happening right now.

  “You’re tired,” Declan said softly. “That’s the third time your eyes have drifted closed. You should rest.”

  I propped my eyelids open. “It’s fine, as long as I can see.”

  He inclined his head to study me, wearing a vague smile.

  “What?” I touched my cheek. “Did I drool?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

  I laughed. “You just want me to be tired so you can get rid of me. You must be tired of seeing my face.”

  “I could never tire of that,” he replied. “I like seeing you.”

  “Why?”

  My question seemed to catch him off-guard. “Why?”

  “Well, I’m not exactly someone who gets seen a lot, you know? I’m more like background noise.”

  He shook his head. “You couldn’t be background noise if you tried. Mia, you shine like the sun. Why do you think I came to speak to you at Nonesuch?”

  “Because I was standing in the same section you were.”

  Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Why do you think I went to the silent auction area in the first place? You were a beacon and the only thing I wanted to do was bask in your warm glow.”

  “That’s way too poetic for a demigod.”

  He ignored my protest. “I was there to find Sela and, when I first saw you, I thought maybe you were Sela.”

  “What made you think that?”

  He covered my hand with his. “Because the moment I saw you, it seemed as though an eye inside me opened.”

  “That sounds kind of…gross.”

  “It was as though I could finally see, Mia, and what I saw was you.”

  It still seemed incredible that someone like Declan—a demigod, no less—would be drawn to me. I was nobody special. Even among my roommates, I was the least likely to garner attention. I looked like the witch next door, the one you called when you needed help with your protective ward or a babysitter so you could attend your monthly coven meeting. I didn’t attract hot demigods. I didn’t attract anyone.

  “What if we weren’t drawn together for the reason you think?” I asked. “What if your fate is tied to saving the world? I’m just the conduit.”

  Declan grumbled in frustration. “Why do you find it so impossible to believe that you’re special?”

  “Because I’m not.”

  He leaned closer and desire sparked in his eyes. “I can’t explain it, Mia, and, to be honest, I don’t want to. When the universe hangs a flashing neon arrow over someone’s head, I take notice because it doesn’t happen often.”

  “What does the flashing neon arrow say?” I asked. “End of the world sale? Half-priced companions here?”

  He chuckled softly. “You’re ridiculous. That’s what my mother used to tell me when I said things that tickled her.”

  “In the tongue of her time, I guess.”

  His expression grew wistful. “Being raised by her was a blessing. She taught me by example. How to treat others with respect. How to speak like a man and not a god. You would think speaking like a god would be better, but I promise you, learning to address others as equals is a gift. My father never understood why it mattered. He was only interested in barking orders and demanding obedience.”

  “Your mother sounds very wise.”

  “She was.”

  I smiled. “In my dream, you said something similar about her,” I told him. “When I said you didn’t talk like a demigod of war, you credited your mother’s influence.”

  He grinned and squeezed my hand. “And what dream was this? Details, please, down to the last stitch of clothing.”

  “The night after our visit to the oracle,” I said. “I had a dream where I was imprisoned in a cage by a crow. Well, there were three crows, but I only saw one. You caught the cage before I hit the…”

  The expression on Declan’s face stopped me from continuing. “Three crows?”

  I nodded. “Sisters. That’s what the one crow said. The other one tried to smother me with big, black feathers, but I escaped.”

  Declan swore under his breath. “Of course. It makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?”

  “The Morrigan.” He shot to his feet, cursing more audibly. “B’s Garden. The B-word was Badb. That’s what Sela had written in her blood. I should’ve realized. What a fool I am.”

  “What’s Badb’s Garden?” I asked.

  “That’s the ancient verse where the prophecy hails from. Badb’s Garden is a euphemism for the battlefield.”

  “The Morrigan,” I repeated. “I thought the Morrigan was a Celtic goddess of war and death.”

  “She can be when the sisters merge,” Declan said. “She can also be three separate goddesses and Badb is one of them. The crow is their spirit animal. They often take its form.”

  Pieces of the puzzle clicked into place and I smacked my forehead. “I’ve been seeing crows everywhere. I haven’t been paying much attention to them, but I’ve noticed them.” Outside the vampire’s secret lair where the enclave met. Outside the salon. In my dream.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the dream before?” he asked.

  “I thought it was just a dream,” I said. “It was right after we’d been to the oracle and I found out your real identity. I assumed I was processing the information.”

  “Dreams that occur after a reading can often be informative,” Declan said.

  “Did you have a dream, too?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not the kind you did. The Morrigan knows better than to haunt my dreams. My father…”

  “Your father what?” I asked. A thought occurred to me. “Is your father still alive—in this world?” I’
d been under the impression that most ancient gods and goddesses had passed on to another realm. Most of them were no longer interested in the small lives of the paranormals left behind.

  Declan rubbed the back of his neck. “My father dwells beyond the veil. The Morrigan, too. The sisters shouldn’t be here.”

  “It must have to do with the prophecy,” I said.

  “Yes, the Morrigan would definitely want to be here for that,” he agreed. “Battles and bloodshed. That’s their specialty.”

  I studied him. “But not yours, Mr. Demigod of War?”

  “No, I told you. If the end of the world comes, that’s not exactly a boon for me. The Morrigan can have their fun and then disappear beyond the veil, but I can’t.”

  I cocked my head. “Why not?”

  “Because of the demi part of my title,” he replied. “I have a human mother. I may possess some of the traits of my father, but I have no place there. My home is this world. If it ceases to exist, then so do I.”

  I scraped back my chair, my jaw set with grim determination. “Tell me, Declan. How do we find this Morrigan?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Declan and I set up the summoning circle in the field away from the academy buildings. I decided not to wake my roommates, mainly because I worried that something might go wrong. If the Morrigan threw a tantrum, then at least Declan and I would be the only ones in the line of fire.

  I finished placing the last stone in the circle and took a step back. “You’ll do the incantation?”

  He nodded. “Fair warning. She can be a moody goddess with a nasty temper.”

  “I don’t care how moody she is,” I replied. “We need her.”

  “She may not give us what we want, even if she has the means,” he told me. “Gods and goddesses—they’re a fickle lot. My mother shielded me from them as best she could, but I learned that lesson early on.”

  “We have to try, Declan.”

  “I agree,” he said. “I just don’t want us to pin our hopes on this.” He took my hand and began to chant. I felt the energy rise within me, my magic flowing to him. The stones of the circle’s perimeter began to glow with a greenish light.