Undead Alchemist

by Kat Cotton

  I glared at him until he smiled.

  “Nic and I are going out for cake,” I said, then kissed Kisho on the cheek.

  “Have fun,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure if having deep and meaningful talks about Nic’s emotional turmoil would ever be classified as fun, but he needed someone to set him straight. Or not straight. Whatever the case might be.

  We ended up in a cafe in the middle of the city. Much less hipster and more traditional than the place I’d gone to with the mayor. It had checkerboard tiles on the floor and those wooden chairs with the woven seats. White tablecloths, too.

  “Best cakes in Prague,” the sign said. That sounded like our kind of place.

  “You are paying, right?” Nic said.

  “We never agreed to that.” I folded my arms.

  “You’re the one who dragged me here. It’s only fitting that you pay.”

  “I don’t have any Czech money.”

  “They take credit card.”

  I sighed. I guessed I needed him in a good mood so he’d talk. “Just this once,” I said. “Remember this, next time you want to complain about paying for something.”

  We ordered.

  “Is someone else joining you?” the waiter asked. “Should we wait for them? Some of these are whole cakes, not just single slices.”

  “No one is joining us,” I said. “Bring the cakes now.”

  As he walked away, I looked at Nic. “That was a bit judgey, don’t you think?” he asked.

  “Totally judgey. I mean, there are two of us,” I told him.

  When the waiter returned, he loaded the table up with our cake choices. “If you like, we can box up the leftovers for you to take home.”

  Nic and I both laughed. What kind of cake-eating weaklings did he take us for?

  “So, Nic, open your heart up to me.”

  “You know you’re the last person I want to open my heart to. You are not a sympathetic person, Clem Starr.”

  That hurt a little. I could be sympathetic. “Yeah, well, I’m as good as you’ve got. Well, there’s Kisho. He’s sympathetic, but you obviously don’t want to open up to him or you’d have done it already. So, pass me some of that lemon cake and get talking. Do you like the mayor?”

  Nic shrugged. He passed the cake, then reached for the strawberry one.

  “Come on, Nic. You’re been shrinking away like a little bitch, then this lying and running away. That’s not you. You might be the most annoying vampire that ever sucked blood, but you don’t do that weak shit. I know you’re not that experienced in the more sexual side of life, and that might be putting you on a rollercoaster of feels, but you need to front up to them. Don’t be a pathetic little bitch.”

  Damn, I was good at this love advice thing. I could totally make a second career out of it.

  “I like him well enough.” Nic didn’t look at me and not in a “too busy looking at cakes” way, either.

  “Well enough? That means nothing. I mean, is it ‘white picket fence’ type like, or is it ‘I wouldn’t mind screwing him again’ type like, or is it some other kind of like?”

  “It’s nowhere near as strong as my like for this strawberry cake. You have to try it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

  “Including the mayor?” k~1~2

  Nic just glared at me for that. He wasn’t wrong about the strawberry cake, though. I’d have a second slice, but I’d promised the coffee cake it would be next. Then I needed to try one of those little almond things. The main thing about cake eating is prioritizing.

  “I guess it’s ‘I wouldn’t mind screwing him again’ like.”

  Whoa, finally, a breakthrough. “So, screw him again.”

  “I haven’t spoken to him properly since. He might not feel the same. He might be full of regret. We were both drunk.”

  “He’s been asking about you. I don’t think it’s all one-sided.”

  “You know the underlying problem, Clem Starr.”

  “That he keeps trying to kill you? Yeah, that does put a dampener on things. I’d like to be all sunny and positive about this and say that the trying to kill you is all in the past and you can move beyond it, but I can’t say that in all honesty. He will try to kill you again, and that might be a huge roadblock to your relationship.”

  He nodded. “I don’t want to be one of those ‘but I love him’ types. And forgiveness isn’t that easy for me. If things progress between us, then there’s another murder attempt, I’d have to take that personally.”

  I nodded. Then I got another slice of cake. “But admit it, Nic. You’d do the same thing if it was expedient.”

  A grin spread across his face. That grin was like the sun shining through the clouds. All the sadness had gone.

  “That’s true,” he said. “I could kill him. If I chose.”

  If the thought that he might one day kill the mayor made him smile, then I was happy to oblige. Even more than cake, even more than my sympathetic ear, that had cheered him up.

  “So, tonight, when I’m bored out of my mind with this ghost tour, ask him if he wants to have dinner with you,” I said. “It’s not so difficult. You could get Kisho to go too, then leave early. Or just tell him straight out.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat dinner tonight,” Nic said. “I could ask him for a drink. Not absinthe.”

  “I really can’t eat any more cake, either. I can’t believe I’m saying that.” I looked at Nic.

  “But we have three pieces left, and I’m sure as hell not going to let that waiter win. We have to eat every single piece of cake on this table.”

  That was the Nic I knew and loved.

  Chapter 23 Ghost Tour

  I MADE IT TO THE TOUR spot, making sure I wasn’t too early this time. A group of backpackers hung out near the umbrella.

  “Clem?” the chirpy tour guide said. “We’ve been waiting for you. You did get the message about being twenty minutes early?”

  “Yes, but…” No point arguing. I’d never win.

  “We’ll start without the last two people. They must’ve changed their minds.”

  As she said it, two women ran over. They wore those long hippie skirts with batik patterns on them. Weren’t they freezing? Those skirts offered no protection against the elements. One had on a fluffy cardigan that looked warm, at least. The other one just had a scarf. Not even a warm scarf, but a brightly colored silk.

  Of course they were late. Hippies, all about love and peace and never about punctuality.

  She got their names. Fleur and Fern.

  Her talk as we walked wasn’t much different from the other tours. The same stories. Almost word for word the same. I kept to the back of the tour. I didn’t need to hear, but I did need to keep a close eye on our surroundings.

  As we gathered around, listening to the guide talk about some haunted butcher shop, Fleur tried to move beside me. I bet she stank of sandalwood. I shuffled around so she couldn’t get too close, then we moved on.

  We walked down a dark alley at the side of the house.

  “I don’t like this,” one of the backpacker girls said.

  “It’s okay. Your aura is not the kind to attract ghosts,” Fern told her.

  I wasn’t sure what a ghost-attracting aura was, but she sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

  Our footsteps echoed in the narrow alleyway. The temperature got so cold, it felt like a million pins poking into my skin. My thick tights failed miserably, and Kisho’s jacket might be warm, but it ended at my hips.

  Around us, things rustled in the wind. Or maybe it was rats. The thought intensified my shivers. I hadn’t been this cold since the Vampire King died. It was even worse than that time I’d had to stand under the freezing waterfall. I’d never thought I’d be colder than that. It seemed like every day in Prague got colder and colder.

  Suddenly, the backpacker girl screamed, and I jumped into action. If I caught the alchemist, I could go home and have a warm show
er.

  “Just a cobweb,” the guide said.

  The girl giggled in that nervous way I hated. Even my neck prickled. If the city was so worried about humans being targeted by this vamp, why was the tour going down an alleyway like this? And if they took tourists down here on a regular basis, why were there cobwebs?

  Without me noticing, Fleur moved beside me. The sandalwood oil smell hit me before I saw her.

  “Clem Starr,” she whispered. “I need to talk to you.”

  How did she know my name? She’d turned up after I’d given it to the tour guide, and no one had called me by name since. A chill went down my spine, and it wasn’t caused by the cold or the lame ghost tour.

  “What?” I hissed back to her.

  The guide’s voice droned on in front of us.

  “I can get you free,” Fleur said.

  “Are you some kind of religious freak? I don’t need any religion.”

  I tried to move off, but we had a wall on one side of us. Without rudely pushing people out of the way and making a fuss, I couldn’t escape. Making a fuss might be a good alternative, though, if she tried to sign me up to her cult.

  “You have to get away from the Demon Fighters’ Council. You can’t let them run tests on you. I’ve been looking for you, and this tour seemed the perfect opportunity.”

  She seemed nice enough, but this knowing shit about me really freaked me out.

  “I’m not interested,” I said. I had to say that, or I’d be on the ground, screaming in pain.

  “You have to be interested. It’s in our best interests. I was a friend of your mother’s. I’ll show you something.” She grabbed hold of my wrists, her fingers around the cuffs. “Think about escaping.”

  “No way.”

  But now that she’d said that, I couldn’t not think about it. I braced myself, waiting for the pain. My jaw tightened and my body stiffened. I did not want to fall to the ground. I wanted to be pain-free.

  The cuffs sparked a little, but it was a weak fizzle. Then nothing. Not one damn thing. No pain. No falling. She’d deactivated them.

  Fleur smiled. I smiled back.

  “That won’t last long,” she said. “I need more privacy to do it properly.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  “Come on, girls. The group’s moving on,” the guide called to us.

  Damn her. I didn’t want to move on. Fleur was the key to my freedom.

  “Meet us after the tour,” Fleur said. “We have to be careful. The Council is watching.”

  I nodded. “Where?”

  Before she could answer, the guide came back to get us.

  “You don’t want to stay here alone,” she laughed. “The ghosts.”

  Damn. I needed to get the meeting spot from Fleur.

  My heart leapt as I walked. Fleur could get me free, and I could leave this city far behind me. Nic and Kisho and I could vanish in the night, leaving the Council far behind. Sure, I’d have to run from them for the rest of my life, but I wouldn’t have them testing me. I wouldn’t have them mind-controlling me, either. I’d have all the freedom I’d once taken for granted.

  And Fleur knew my mother? That opened doors I’d always kept bolted up tight.

  We continued along the winding street. I lingered behind to give Fleur another chance to speak to me. She hissed the name of a café, but then the guide separated us again and Fleur moved to the front of the group.

  The backpacker screamed again.

  Another cobweb?

  No, a shadow moved in the semi-darkness. Was it him?

  My skin prickled, my senses on high alert. That smell—it was all vampire.

  I pushed to the front of the group. If he was going to take anyone, it’d be me. I was too late, though; the shadow disappeared.

  “Fleur?” Fern called out. She didn’t scream, but her voice had an edge of desperate urgency.

  Fleur didn’t answer. Fleur was gone.

  That damn alchemist had taken her.

  I ran. He might be a vampire, but I’d get that bastard. I couldn’t lose Fleur now. Not when I was this close to escape. That vampire would die.

  Chapter 24 Mother

  I TOOK OFF AFTER THEM, my boots pounding against the cobblestones. He had vampire strength, but he also had Fleur weighing him down. They were in my sights. I could see her struggling in his arms.

  A light rain started falling, making the stones slippery under my feet.

  Now that I finally had a chance of escape, I couldn’t lose it. I had no idea who Fleur was or what her connection was to me, but she was obviously more than just a friend of my mother’s. Without her, I’d never find any of that out.

  Desperation thudded through my body. Even if my legs ached from trying to stay upright on these slippery streets, even if the rain blurred my vision, I’d catch them.

  A bunch of tourists tumbled out of a bar. Stag party group, by the looks of them. They bowled right into the alchemist, slowing him down. One of the drunken tourists tried to grab him.

  “What’re you doin’ with that chick?” he yelled.

  The vamp knocked him down without his grip on Fleur even loosening. I wove my way through the crowd. The drunk who’d yelled out ran alongside me.

  “We’ll get her back,” he huffed.

  I just nodded. I had no breath for talking. If only Kisho had been with me, I’d have caught that vamp. Well, Kisho would’ve. But on my own, I had to put all my energy into running.

  Why hadn’t he gone for me, anyway? I wore the vamp-attracting outfit. Fleur just had on that hippie skirt. She didn’t even have her neck exposed.

  Damn, was I losing it? If I’d been closer to him, I’d have been able to use my sexual aura, but I’d been stuck at the back of the group.

  The vamp slipped into a tiny alley.

  By the time I’d reached the spot, he and Fleur had both disappeared.

  “They definitely came down here, right?” I asked the drunk.

  “Looked that way to me.”

  Now that we’d stopped running, he didn’t actually seem that drunk at all. Maybe he’d just been rowdy, or maybe the run had sobered him up.

  “Let’s search the alley to see if there’s anywhere they could’ve disappeared to,” I said. “Doorways and the like.”

  I put my phone in flashlight mode and did a thorough scan of the alleyway. The drunk guy helped. It was only a short alley, a dead end. More like a gap between buildings.

  “This place is solid. There’s nowhere they could’ve gone,” he said. “Not unless he’s Spider-Man.”

  Even with vampire powers, it would’ve been impossible for him to get out of here unseen. There were no ledges he could’ve jumped onto, no scalable walls. Where the hell had they gone? He might not be Spider-Man, but he could’ve used magic.

  “Say, we should report this to the police,” the drunk guy said. “He kidnapped that woman, right?”

  Reporting this to the police was the last thing I wanted to do. I had to think fast.

  “We were on a ghost tour. I’m sure the tour leader will take care of that. You don’t want to spend your whole night sitting in a police station, trying to explain all this in a foreign language, do you?”

  “Got ya.” He gave me a little salute. “I’m Damien.”

  I nodded.

  “You wouldn’t wanna join me for a drink?” He gave me a shy grin.

  If I’d been single, I’d probably have taken him up on that. Damien wasn’t too bad-looking, and he’d been really helpful. Nothing like most of the annoying tourists I’d met.

  “Sorry, I’ve got to get back to my boyfriend,” I told him. “But thanks for your help.”

  I hated going back to the hotel reeking of failure, but I’d learn nothing more tonight. I’d come back tomorrow and do a more thorough search of the alleyway with Kisho. His vampire senses might pick up something I’d missed. Hopefully, this drizzle wouldn’t wash all the clues away.
>
  Kisho was watching some game show on TV when I got back to the hotel.

  “He didn’t attack you?” he said.

  I shook my head and sat on the bed next to him. He put his arm around me, and I nestled against him. His closeness eased some of the hurt and anger inside me.

  “What happened?” he asked, stroking my arm.

  “He took one of the other women.”

  I was reluctant to tell him about Fleur. It hurt so much—not just the chance to be free of these stupid cuffs, but actually meeting someone who’d known my mother.

  I got up and paced the room, even though there was little space for pacing.

  After my parents had died, I’d pushed them to the back of my mind.

  Some of the other kids at the orphanage had been obsessed with finding their real parents, but those kids knew their parents were still alive. Others clung to little reminders of their past lives as though they were life rafts in a storm. It’d been the opposite for me. The past could stay in the past. My parents weren’t coming back, so the best thing to do was forget them and move on.

  One day, I’d been playing in the yard, and Jannie Francis, who was the closest person I had to a friend, began questioning me.

  “Don’t you have any other family?” she’d asked.

  I hadn’t thought of it before then. I’d been so young when I was orphaned, and I had no memory of any relatives. Hell, I could barely remember my life before the orphanage.

  “What about your grandparents? Your aunties and uncles?”

  “I don’t think I have any.”

  “You mustn’t, or you’d have to live with them now. You’re strange, Clem. Most people have family. Even Harry Potter had his horrible aunt and uncle to live with when his parents died, but you have no one.”

  I threw a handful of dirt at her and ran away. I hated it when the other kids called me strange or weird. Then I climbed up to my secret spot in the tree at the bottom of the yard and stayed there until I got too hungry.

  Jannie was stupid. Sometimes people just didn’t have family. There was nothing strange about that.