Dark Becoming (An Ema Marx Novel Book 3)

by J. D. Brown

  “When you said we could make our own stone, I didn’t think you meant crystal meth.” Brinnon laughed at his own joke.

  “Alchemy,” said Hesiodos, “is a science.”

  “But it is also a magic,” Maria pointed out. “You boys better move the furniture; we’re going to need the floor space.” She glanced at Brinnon and then at me. “Where’s Jesu?”

  I shrugged. “My guess is he’s either chasing mice, or swimming through the lagoon.”

  Brinnon and Hesiodos both gave me a sideways glance, but I knew Maria would understand. She pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze. Then she turned her attention to our alchemist. “Help Brinnon move the furniture. I’ll put the rest of the items in the fridge.”

  Hesiodos did as he was told. While the men got to work, I helped Maria unload the rest of the supplies. The last two bags contained bundles of frozen unidentifiable objects wrapped in white butcher paper. They were probably slabs of raw meat, but I didn’t want to think about that. The temperature kept their scents at bay, so I pretended they were loaves of bread. There were other things in the bags, too. Assorted herbs, spices, candles, and a tin of salt.

  “We need all of this just to make a stone? Why not go to Tiffany’s and pick one out?”

  Maria smiled. “If it was that easy, everyone would have one. According to the spell, the stone must be assembled. Now, for the final ingredient, we will need a hair sample.” She lifted one of the test tubes. “If you don’t mind?”

  I hesitated. “Why do you need my hair?”

  “Hesiodos will bind the stone’s powers to your DNA so you will be the only one who can wield it.”

  I winced. What if I failed to use it? What if Apollyon overpowered me before I got the chance? If I die, wouldn’t it better if someone else could pick it up and use it?

  Maria studied me a moment. “We can’t risk it falling into the wrong person’s hands, darling. Either you use it, or no one does.”

  Good point. If Apollyon killed me, what would stop him from taking the stone out of my cold, dead hands and using it for evil?

  “All right.” I took a lock of my hair and then plucked a single long, black strand. I lowered the hair into the test tube. Maria placed a cork stopper over the top and then put it in her pocket.

  “So,” Brinnon grunted while lifting the couch. “How does this work, exactly? You put carbon into a compression chamber, cast the spell, and out pops a magical diamond?”

  Hesiodos scoffed. “It could take days to explain to you lot.”

  I crossed my arms. “Start with the cliff notes. If I’m going to be in charge of this thing, I want to know how it works.”

  Hesiodos’ black gaze locked with mine and narrowed to slits. Again, he reminded me of someone, but whom? He curled his lip. “Very well. Think of it in a manner similar to modern chemistry. Science tells us that energy and mass cannot be created or destroyed. They can only change forms. Chemists disassemble chemical elements and then add certain components to the atoms of another element to create a completely different substance. For example, we know that joining two hydrogen molecules to an oxygen molecule creates water. The two gasses are arranged in such a way that yields liquid. Alchemy, at its most basic root, is exactly the same. Except that, where a chemist deals in tiny molecules and atoms, an alchemist deals in larger more complex elements—the elements of earth, air, water, and fire. The elements of the flesh, the soul, and the heavens.”

  He paused to lift the coffee table, and then carried it to the other side of the room, where Brinnon had placed the couch. Hesiodos set the table down, then nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Like a chemist, I will disassemble the ingredients and extract the specific elements needed. Some of those elements will be physical, and some will be metaphysical. All of them will be combined again in a new fashion designed to create both the physical vessel of the stone, and the magical properties therein.”

  “That’s a lot of transmutation for an item that is supposed to aid in alchemy,” I noted.

  “What do you expect?” said Hesiodos. “The philosopher’s stone itself isn’t a weapon, it’s a power tool. It’s meant to expedite the work of the alchemist. Once an alchemist has his own philosopher’s stone, there is no need for a lab, or tedious ritual work. He or she only needs to utter the words of the spell, and the stone does the rest; extracting, storing, and transferring any element the owner desires. What makes the philosopher’s stone a weapon is what the alchemist chooses to use it for. Of course, since we are making you a much simpler model, your stone will be modified to do only one thing; capture a vampyre’s soul, which is ironically what the spell in this book is specifically meant for. You’ll be able to fire the stone twice, as requested, but it will only hold one essence at a time.”

  That made sense, seeing as how the spell book belonged to Leena. She would have worked out the spell specifically to extract Apollyon’s essence from Jalmari when he was possessed. I wondered why she didn’t try it before. Maybe she was afraid it would malfunction, or maybe she wasn’t skilled enough to pull it off.

  My gaze widened as I suddenly realized who Hesiodos reminded me of. The pieces came together in a rush; how Hesiodos was an alchemist, how he recognized the spell book, how he was able to de-code the cryptic writing. The more I watched him, the more I saw her face in his. He had her nose, her jaw, and though they were a different color, he even had her eyes. I opened my mouth, about to announce this revelation to the room, when the suite door swung open.

  Jesu took one step inside, scanned the room, and then lowered his gaze. He let his long hair fall over his face as he turned to close the door. He smelled like the outdoors. Well, technically Jesu always smelled like the outdoors, but the scent was stronger than usual, with a very fishy underscore.

  “Where have you been?” Maria inquired in a casual tone.

  Jesu faced the room and his gaze flickered in my direction. My cheeks burned and I looked to the floor. “Out,” he said to Maria. “What is going on here?”

  “Spell preparation. Go help the guys clear the room.”

  Jesu pressed his lips together and marched past me, to the living room area. I kept my head down and silently organized the lab equipment. The five of us worked into the wee hours of the night, doing whatever odd thing Hesiodos requested. The guys moved all the small furniture pieces and rugs into the girls’ suite next door. The larger items were pushed over with the couch, against the far wall. Jesu then helped Hesiodos draw several geometric figures of varying sizes on the floorboards. Fortunately, they drew the shapes in chalk. Maria and I organized and labeled the ingredients so they would be easier to locate later.

  Once we finished, all that remained was for Hesiodos to begin the grueling process of extracting and transfiguring the different elements from all the various ingredients. He began with the herbs, working on the thin dried leaves with the diligent skill of a surgeon—a New Age surgeon that occasionally lit candles and chanted while operating. I watched over his shoulder, mystified. Science always fascinated me; I just didn’t have the brain for it. I could memorize dates, battles, presidents, events, but for some odd reason I couldn’t remember the periodic table.

  I played nurse—lighting the occasional candle, handing Hesiodos a pair of tongs or a test tube when he needed it, fetching ingredients from the fridge—but the job really didn’t require a team effort, and soon Maria, Brinnon, and Jesu found themselves clustered in the kitchenette, bored.

  “I think I’ll run to the butcher shop and get us all something for dinner,” said Maria.

  Jesu lifted his gaze. “I will go with you.”

  “Me too,” said Brinnon.

  Jesu placed a hand on the prince’s chest, stopping him. “You need to stay here and keep an eye on…” his emerald gaze met mine for a brief second, “…things.”

  Brinnon lifted his brow. “Why don’t you stay and look after her?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be fine by myself.”

  “
I need to speak with Maria.” Jesu lowered his tone. “Do not leave her alone with the alchemist.”

  Jesu opened the door for Maria and the two of them disappeared into the hall. Brinnon leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Guess I’m on watch duty.”

  Now’s my chance. I wasn’t alone with Hesiodos, but I didn’t think I would get another opportunity to talk to him before the spell was complete, and I didn’t mind saying this in front of Brinnon.

  “Hesiodos… you’re Leena’s father, aren’t you?”

  The vampire froze. Then, as if I hadn’t said anything, he continued his work on the herbs, placing a small bit of chamomile flower petals on a glass slide.

  Brinnon watched us from the corner of his vision, his curiosity displayed in the slight wrinkle above his brow.

  “I know you are,” I continued. “That’s how you’re able to translate the code. It’s the same code you would use, isn’t it? Because that was your spell book once. Leena learned it from you.”

  Hesiodos’ hands trembled as he set the slide down. He drew a deep breath and wiped his palms on the front of his shirt. “Yes. Leena is my daughter.”

  I winced at his use of present tense. He didn’t know Leena was dead. I couldn’t believe Jalmari didn’t notify him. Actually, I wasn’t that surprised. Jalmari was a selfish jackass.

  “I knew her briefly,” I said. “She told me about the book. The spells in the beginning are yours.”

  Hesiodos’ fists balled the fabric of his shirt, his knuckles white from the strain. I bit my lip, not knowing how far to take it, yet unable to control my curiosity.

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Not since Lycaon sired me,” he whispered. “Over two-thousand years ago.” Hesiodos faced me, his black eyes wide and eerie. He raised his voice and growled. “Thanks to you, I’ll have to call her.”

  Brinnon stood erect and came toward us. Hesiodos backed away, but his gaze looked less and less sane by the second. I raised my hand to stop Brinnon before his sheer size could scare the vampire. I had no idea what Hesiodos was talking about—or why the idea of calling his daughter would upset him—but he had a right to know what happened to Leena.

  “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but Leena is dead.”

  Hesidos furrowed his brow. “What? That’s impossible. Vampires don’t die.”

  Brinnon snorted. “Sure they do. We may live a long time, but we’re not immortal.”

  “Actually…” I said. “She was murdered.”

  Hesiodos blinked several times and his scowl deepened. “That brute, Jalmari!”

  “No,” I said. “Jalmari didn’t hurt her. He loved her very much. He loves her still, and is positively distraught.”

  Wow, who’d have thought I would defend that dirt bag?

  “He didn’t deserve her,” Hesiodos growled.

  I lifted a brow, but didn’t say anything. I was beginning to speculate on the father-daughter falling out. Daddy didn’t like his princess’s choice in boyfriend. Typical, but, in Jalmari’s case, good parenting. I bet Leena, wherever she was now, wished she had listened to her father.

  “When did she die?” Hesiodos asked. “Who killed her, if not Jalmari?”

  “It was a couple of months ago. The man who killed her… I’m sorry, but I can’t repeat his name to you. It’s better that you don’t know, trust me.”

  Hesiodos backed away until his spine hit the wall. His shoulders hunched forward and he stared at his shoes. The full weight of the truth deepened the lines on his forehead and at the corners of his frown. His eyelids crinkled as grief filled them. “My little girl,” he murmured. “Gone?”

  My heart ached for him. Whatever grudge kept him from contacting his daughter melted away as he slid to the floor and sat in stunned silence. Watching Hesiodos’ world shatter, the pain and loss in his eyes, I silently vowed to find my way back to Chicago, back to Mom. It had been months since I saw her last, and we had fought. My last words to her were a vow to never let her meet my hypothetical baby as I stormed out of her house in a selfish fury. How ironic. I wasn’t pregnant then, but I was now, and I suddenly wanted my mother with me more than anything. Why did I ever say such ugly words to her? It seemed so insensitive now. I couldn’t even remember how the argument started.

  I closed the distance between us and placed a hand over Hesiodos’ fist. “The essence I’m going to take with the philosopher’s stone… it belongs to the man who murdered Leena.”

  “You’re just saying that to comfort me.” Hesiodos sniffed. “Because there’s nothing I can do to avenge my daughter. Not while I’m under Lycaon’s command.”

  “No, it’s true,” I said. “He’s a very bad man, and has hurt a lot of people. He wants to hurt me, too, but I am not going to the let that happen. I’m going to make sure he suffers.”

  Hesiodos eyed me. “You were there when she died?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t come back unscathed either.”

  “I believe you. The way you speak of the murderer…” Hesiodos shook his head. “You thirst for vengeance.”

  I snapped my lips shut and took a step back. I hadn’t realized I spoke about Apollyon in any sort of tone, let alone one convincing of torture. That scared me.

  “I need you to do something for me. Please. I need you to promise.”

  I shrugged. “Sure. Anything.”

  He hesitated, and I knew immediately that I wasn’t going to like his request. “When the spell is complete and you have your philosopher’s stone… you must kill me.”

  I was right, I didn’t like it. “No, I can’t do that.”

  “You must. Lycaon commanded me to memorize the spell. He wants me to duplicate it for him when I get back.”

  “It’s okay, we already thought of that. Maria destroyed the last page. You won’t have the complete spell.”

  “That’s the problem.” Hesiodos stood. A crazed gleam shone in his eyes, replacing the grief from a moment ago.

  “Hey.” Brinnon pushed us apart, shoving Hesiodos harder than he did me.

  The vampire hit the wall and stayed there, pressing his palms flat against the plaster. “You don’t understand. I was compelled. I can’t go back without the whole spell committed to memory. When I saw a page was missing from the book, I thought I might call Leena and beg her to recite the missing portion, or bribe her somehow if she refused. But since she’s… passed… I’ll have no choice but to get the information from the only other person who knows it. Maria.”

  I shook my head. “Maria would never repeat that information. Ever. She would sooner take it to the grave.”

  Hesiodos lifted is brow. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I don’t want to hurt Maria. I don’t want to hurt anybody, but the decision has been made for me. It is only a matter of time before the sire bond drives me to desperation.”

  “But… to kill you?” I said. “I can’t do that. There has to be another way. We can restrain you so that—”

  “No.” Hesiodos brought his hands in front of him and pressed them together, as though in prayer. “Please, I beg you. I want to die. I hate Lycaon. He is greedy and malicious and disgusting. He uses and humiliates me for his own gain. I hate myself for it. Now that Leena is free from this world, I have no reason to stay. I want to join my daughter in the afterlife. Please, promise you will kill me the moment the spell is complete, before I can do anything I’d regret.”

  I didn’t know what to say. It never occurred to me that a vampire could dislike their sire, much less admit they were compelled and hated it. Leena loved Jalmari. Jesu loved their mother. I assumed Jesu loved me because he thought I was the last link to his mother. Nevertheless, if Hesiodos could consciously hate his sire and feel guilty for the crimes he might commit while under his command, then surely Jesu’s feelings could also be his own desire.

  Maybe Jesu really does love me. The real me. Not the girl in his head.

  Nothing said Jesu had to love the girl in hi
s premonition, even if he does find her.

  I owed Jesu an apology.

  “Ema?” Hesiodos peered at me, pleading with his dark gaze.

  I still didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to kill him, but forcing him to go back to Lycaon seemed like a fate worse than death. Who knew how many more miserable millennia Hesiodos would be forced to endure as Lycaon’s puppet? I failed Leena once already. I owed it to her to help her father.

  I managed a tight smile. “One family reunion, coming right up.”

  Chapter 22

  Maria and Jesu returned from the butcher shop with half a goat. The meat was wrapped in white paper and sealed in a plastic container, but it was fresh and the scent brought on a wave of nausea. There wasn’t time to go next door. I pushed past Brinnon and dove into the bathroom.

  My stomached emptied into the toilet. When I was done, I rinsed my mouth and then turned to find three men standing just outside the doorway, staring at me with varied levels of concern. My cheeks warmed and I glanced at my hands, not knowing what excuse to give.

  Maria came to my rescue. “Must be all the herbs overpowering your senses. We really ought to open a window.”

  “No,” Hesiodos warned. “The slightest breeze can alter them. Their placement must be exact.” All trace of our earlier conversation had vanished. He was back to being the diligent alchemist.

  The edge of Maria’s lips lifted in a sly smile. “Oh, well then, why don’t you take a break in the other suite? We can help Hesiodos finish his preparations.”

  I wanted nothing more than to get away from the rancid blood stench, but I worried about my promise to Hesiodos, and Maria’s safety. “I think I should stay here.”

  “Nonsense.” Maria hooked her arm around mine and tugged me toward the door. “Go stretch your legs a bit. Get some fresh air.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and caught Brinnon’s gaze. I gave him my very best ‘help me’ face, and hoped he understood. Brinnon shuffled his weight from one foot to the other and looked to the side.