The Color Alchemist: The Complete Series

by Nina Walker

  “We will help him,” Lucas growled. “We can do anything together. Don’t you believe in us?” A blood vessel pulsed in his forehead. He looked like Richard.

  “You don’t get it,” I snapped. “You don’t get anything I’m saying. If I can’t trust you, then we can’t be together.”

  His face darkened. “Nothing I ever do will be good enough for you.”

  “My father is probably going to die because of you. Others died because of you. I’ll probably never see my mother or my sister again because of you, because you’re so selfish, because you’re so blinded by what you want. Because you’re just like your father!”

  He stilled. “Fine,” he said. “Consider us over. You can go now.”

  “You don’t need to tell me twice,” I snarled, stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind me.

  A fire ignited within me. The rage. The anger. How could he betray me like that? He was supposed to love me, and yet he could take something I’d told him in confidence and turn it over to his father. He knew how much the Resistance meant to me. He knew that was the only reason why I was still at the palace. I’d told him about the attack only out of concern for his safety. And he’d used it against me.

  I would take this love and turn it into revenge.

  I would burn it.

  Bury it.

  And no matter what, I would never trust him again.

  “Come with me,” Faulk called, pounding on my door.

  The night had been spent in a fire of rage, and I’d woken to an inferno. I’d gotten dressed and then stomped around my room in circles. I didn’t leave it. What was the point? The palace was a mess, and I wasn’t going to willingly participate in the clean up. I was done playing nice.

  I climbed off the bed and stormed to swing the door open for Faulk.

  “What?” I spat.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Come.” Then she took off down the hall.

  I followed, hot on her heels. People stared at me as we passed them. I didn’t care. Let them stare. I may have appeared broken to some, but I was stronger than ever inside. I’d spent the night thinking through everything, going over every angle in my head. I had painstakingly accounted for all the pain the people in this palace done to me.

  Reliving it all, again and again.

  Driving the heartache in.

  Drowning in the anger.

  And I was resolved. I was going to end the royal family, even if it ended me.

  I followed her to a lift, and we descended. I’d been this way before. We were going to the dungeons. Well, I guessed it was technically called the prison. In my mind it was “the dungeons” since this was a deplorable palace. Even the very land it sat on was tainted by greed. Maybe they were going to lock me up? At this point, I wouldn’t even care.

  We walked down a hall and a rotting scent filled my nostrils. It was covered up by antiseptic, but not well enough. A female moan echoed from the far end of the hall.

  “We have somebody we want you to meet.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. Let’s get this over with…

  I noted that we were in the vicinity of the gray rooms. These were the sorry places the officers used to keep alchemists away from their own magic. I had been in these rooms. I felt a nudge of guilt for the alchemist I was about to find behind the door. Resistance, no doubt.

  We walked inside.

  The girl’s blond hair hung heavily in her face. She was handcuffed to a chair, and, as expected, dressed in black. She peered up at me. Recognition lit her eyes.

  It was Sasha.

  “I already know her,” I said to Faulk, sounding bored. “You said you wanted me to meet somebody. She is nobody new. So why am I really here?”

  “Oh.” Faulk laughed. It wasn’t a pretty sound. “I guess I should’ve said meet again. In a new light. Under different circumstances.”

  “Fine,” I said, striding into the room.

  Sasha had bruises forming on her cheeks, some yellow and others a shiny, dark purple. There were a few cuts as well. The one that cut across her eyebrow looked deep enough to scar. Her eyes still revealed the friend I knew, though. Maybe I could help her.

  Once inside, the door closed, and I turned back on Faulk. “What do you want?”

  “Jessa.” Faulk smiled. “I’d like for you to meet your older sister, Francesca. I think it’s time the two of you were properly reacquainted.”

  The words rang in my ear, taking a moment to settle in. This made no sense. I shot my gaze to Sasha.

  She just stared back at me, not a glimmer of surprise in her face.

  Her blue eyes reflected my own.

  I stumbled backward.

  Francesca? A dream assaulted me. Not a dream, a flash of memory. A girl running through the grass. Blond hair streaming behind her. A dandelion in her small hand. Yellow magic twinkling in the air between us.

  My sister.

  END OF BOOK TWO

  Copyright © 2018 by Nina Walker

  All rights reserved.

  Characters, names and related indicia are trademarked and copyrighted by Nina Walker.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews or other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Published by Addison & Gray Press, LLC.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Ebook ISBN# 978-0-9992876-4-4

  For Alma and Holden

  1

  Sasha

  My head whipped back as the officer’s knuckles cracked across my cheek. Pain exploded from the impact, jarring my consciousness. I sucked back a strangled cry, gritting my teeth and blinking rapidly. I refuse to beg for relief.

  The coppery taste slid down the back of my tongue, thick as syrup.

  “You're wasting your time,” I growled, spitting the blood onto the concrete floor. It splattered like ink on paper. I shifted in the uncomfortable metal chair, careful not to tug at the handcuffs. They’d been biting into my wrists for far too long. Red rings of angry flesh wrapped around each, stinging like crazy. “I'm not telling you anything.”

  “Again,” Faulk remarked coolly. I glared up through puffy eyes at where she stood in the corner of the small room. A punch landed in the next second, the same spot as before, doubling the pain. I held back a sob as something in my face gave way. The crack rang through my head and my vision blacked out for an excruciating minute.

  “If you break my jaw, then I really can't talk,” I gasped.

  The officer struck again, unperturbed. I yelped, tears burning my eyes, and scowled at the man. He held no emotion. His expression was stoic, a machine ready to strike on command. No, it was Faulk who was causing this, even if her hands weren't exacting the blows. Blood was splattered across his white uniform. Hers was pristine, but she was anything but clean in this matter.

  “Oh Sasha, don’t be so naïve.” She grinned, stepping closer. Then she cackled, a strange sound for such a hard woman. “I’m sorry, perhaps you’d prefer to be called Francesca? Oh wait, no…that’s not right. I seem to recall you went by Frankie. You always were a bit of a tom-boy.”

  I turned away. Her boots clomped across the room until she was face to face with me, leaning down to glower. Wrinkles spread around her eyes. Her lips were thin and her complexion ashen, but something in her eyes gleamed. Didn’t she ever get tired of this?

  “Wake up, you fool!” she spat. “If we break your stupid jaw, we can have a guardian heal you. And then we can break you all over again. And again. And again. And again.”

  Of course, I knew that! Still, hearing it spoken aloud sent a shiver of fear down my spine.

  Bam! Her fist slammed a
gainst my jaw, and my vision blurred. I gasped and fought the urge to cry. No, she would not get the better of me.

  “You’d be better off to talk now.” She leaned close and her icy cool breath swept across my burning face. “Before we try…other means. You know, eventually you will talk. And you know what our alchemists are capable of.”

  I glared up at her through wild strands of hair hanging limp in my face. She was right. Without any color to grasp onto in this prison cell, I couldn't pull on my magic. And enough blue sent my way would have me talking. I didn't even want to think about what they would do if and when they made Jessa use red alchemy on me.

  It would all be over.

  I shook my head. “There's nothing to tell,” I rasped. “You caught us! You won. Now move on.”

  “Don't patronize me.” Then she pranced toward the door. She lifted her hand to push her way through and turned her head nonchalantly to call back to her hulking underling. “Again.”

  There was no time to brace myself. His fist pummeled my face, my rib cage, my arms and chest, over and over. He was huge, muscles bulging, teeth bared, and he held nothing back. A guttural cry escaped my lips as the pain enveloped me, tormenting me in a never ending agony. The overwhelming stench of blood became too much, and soon, I choked on its heaviness.

  What did I hate more? The pain? Or my own weakness? I didn’t know anymore. I couldn’t think anymore.

  The darkness spilled over.

  A barking cough echoed through the room, waking me with a start.

  I blinked rapidly, focusing on the source of the noise.

  Christopher.

  The lights were bright this time, assaulting my vision. My scream caught in my throat when I saw him, sounding helplessly in my head. He was Christopher, my father, but his face was barely recognizable under the immense swelling and cacophony of colorful bruises. He’d been beaten to a pulp. He sat hunched over on his own metal chair, also handcuffed.

  “Are you okay?” I winced as the skin around my mouth stretched the wounds that had accumulated, one on top of the other.

  He sat up, an agonizing groan escaping his swollen lips. He took in the full extent of my injuries, and sadness filled the space between his puffy eyes. Finally, he nodded. “I’m alive. We’re alive. That’s better than what I was expecting. Frankie, I’m so sorry…”

  I froze, the use of my real name sinking in deep.

  “They could still kill us, you know.” I sighed, still stuck on the “we’re alive” bit. I wasn’t holding out hope that would still be the case once they got what they wanted from us.

  “True.” He swallowed hard. “But as long as they need information from us, then we’re still breathing. We have to hold onto that.”

  I scoffed. “I guess so.” While being beaten to within an inch of my life was technically still living, it wasn’t what I’d had in mind when we’d first raided the palace. We should have known better. Of course, the whole thing had been a trap. Richard wasn’t going to let us walk in and take the place.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “For what?” But I already knew.

  My teeth ached and it hurt to talk, but somehow, after everything I’d endured over the last couple of days, this conversation felt like salvation.

  “For not listening to you. For coming in here unprepared. If it hadn’t been for me, you’d have gotten out with your friends.”

  I wasn’t about to argue with him. “Well, they caught a bunch of us, didn’t they? It’s not all your fault.”

  He shifted in his chair, the legs grinding on the concrete. He was dressed in the prison gray cottons, same as me, dried blood also splotched across the overly starched material. The collar of his shirt was torn, revealing the sweaty sheen of his chest. Swollen eyes squinted from his bruised face and bits of flaky blood crusted his wispy head of hair.

  “But I heard the guards talking before they moved me in here with you,” he said, the bruises stretching like taffy as he talked. “The other alchemists don’t know the exact coordinates of the resistance camp. They killed Cole’s guys and mostly everyone who got trapped in there. I was spared, you, some alchemists…”

  “What’s your point?” I really didn’t want to relive our terrible failure. We almost had him. Cole had his gun pointed right at Richard but then…

  The image of his body jerking and blood spraying outward from the impact of the bullet flashed through my mind. I closed my eyes and pushed it away, despite the rise of vomit that burned in my throat.

  “My point is, I don’t even have all the details they need to find the camp. I wasn’t told all the specifics, I just know we were in Canada. You’re the only one they have who knows exactly where the camp is. I think that’s why they decided to stick me in here.” He leaned forward, his arms also shackled to a chair, and glanced around the small gray room, eyes landing on the door. The room was empty except for the two of us and our godforsaken chairs.

  “Figures,” I muttered, glancing up. The lights burned bright as I stared at my distorted reflection in the metal ceiling. My attention turned to the gray walls, the floor of polished concrete, and the singular metal door. I fought hard against the rise of panic in my chest, but it was starting to get the better of me. I was trained to handle this kind of situation, and it still was wearing on my faith.

  They knew who I was. They knew everything.

  “What happened to you?” Christopher asked. I jumped, startled by his voice but more than that, I was nervous to answer him. Doesn’t he deserve to know? If you don’t tell him, someone else will.

  I rolled my lip between my teeth for a moment and then spoke. “I’d originally been a color alchemist at the palace. After I got sent away from home.” I couldn’t meet his eyes when I said that part. The shame was still buried deep. “But I had been rescued from the Guardians by Hank and Tristan. It was while on assignment when I was only ten-years-old. That’s how we’d ended up in the camp in the first place.”

  Silence stretched between us and I finally met his eyes. His were filled with regret. Even with the bruises and cuts, I could see that clear as day. “I came back into New Colony about six years later, undercover with a new name, Sasha. It worked, too. I eventually came to the palace and worked directly with Jasmine.”

  “Jasmine?”

  “She died,” I ground out the two words that hurt just as bad as the pain in my jaw. “Anyway, I had to blow that cover in order to help someone.” That someone was Jessa, but I knew better than to say that here. She was still undercover. “Once I disappeared, I’m assuming the officers dug into my past and figured out who I really am. Faulk knows my real name, and that you’re my father.”

  A lone tear fell down his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “None of that should have been your weight to bear.”

  I shrugged and looked away.

  The officers also knew I was a red alchemist. Well, I used to have that curse. I’d been able to successfully block it for years, but that wouldn’t stop Richard from trying to rip it out of me again.

  “I’m here because I’m their leverage,” my father said, bringing me back to the moment. “Little do they know, I don’t mean anything to you anymore.”

  “That’s not true,” I snapped.

  He stilled, and I refused to say more. Yes, I was still mad about my past. But in light of everything that had happened, I was realizing that maybe I actually did want to be part of a family again.

  Maybe.

  I wasn’t making any promises.

  The door swung open, and Faulk strode in with an ugly conspiratorial smile ruining her face. “Of course you still mean something to her,” she said to Christopher. “You are her father. No one could ever replace you.”

  “So then why take me away from my family? Why do that to little children?” I yelled, anger swelling as I tugged on the cuffs. The need to punch Faulk right in her beaky nose overwhelmed me. I imagined her crumpling to the cement floor, her head smacking it with a thud.
I’d jump on top of her and match every single blow that she’d ordered on me and my father, until she begged for mercy.

  The scene played out before me, but reality?

  Reality sucked.

  She glanced at me briefly, smiled, and then turned back to Christopher. “How are you feeling this morning?” She chirped. What was this? Good cop, bad cop?

  I growled. “Morning? How long have I been passed out? Forget that, how long have I even been in this prison?”

  She didn’t bother to look at me as she ignored the questions. Living inside a gray box was not a fun thing for anyone, let alone an alchemist. But still, I hoped it had been days. My friends needed to get out of that camp. Innocent people would be caught and punished because of my stupid mistakes. Faulk was right: eventually she would get to the truth. But I would do everything in my power to make sure it was too late when she finally did.

  “What do you want?” Christopher and I asked Faulk, at the same time.

  She moved further into the cramped room, and a couple of her henchmen followed. They slammed the door shut and the space got tighter, the air thick and hot.

  “Don’t play dumb.” She sighed. “You both know what I want. Sasha is going to tell us where the camp is.”

  “No, she isn’t,” Christopher said just as I snapped, “No I’m not.”

  I nodded my quick approval toward the man.

  “We’ll see about that,” she purred, then flicked her bony wrist toward Christopher. Two hulking men strode toward him, arms raised, preparing to strike. He didn’t cower.

  “This is Jose,” she pointed to one of the men. “And this is Carter.” She pointed to the other. “They are two of my best officers, known for their fighting ability.”

  I glared at the men and quipped, “Pleased to meet you.”

  “It’s not really a fair fight, though, is it?” She winked at Christopher and shrugged. “Oh, well.”