“I can’t believe I fell for that,” he said breathlessly. “You’re such a cheater.”
Whirling to face him, I smirked. “I was manufacturing a combat advantage, not cheating. Kai’s been teaching me.”
“A race isn’t combat.”
“Maybe I was running for my life.”
“From me?” He arched a playful eyebrow. “Does that mean you don’t like being chased?”
“Depends who’s doing the chasing,” I shot back teasingly.
“Oh? So is it the chase you prefer, or the catch?”
I tossed my hair with pretend haughtiness. “You think you could catch me?”
“Pretty sure I already did.”
My heart did a crazy tumble through my chest and a grin stretched my mouth. I couldn’t hold it back any more than I could stop the blush heating my cheeks.
“Well,” I began dramatically, spreading my arms as I stepped backward, “do I look—”
My heel caught on a tree root hidden in the grass. Squealing, I pitched over, arms wind-milling. My back hit the ground, the air punched from my chest, and I blinked dazedly at the overcast sky.
Damn it.
Ezra’s face appeared above mine. He crouched at my side, his expression drawn into grave concern. “Tori, are you still with me?”
I choked on a laugh and whispered, “Ezra? Is that you?”
“I’m here.” He took my hand and patted it gently. “Just hang in there.”
I fluttered my fingers. “Everything is growing dark.”
“Go toward the light, Tori.”
My eyebrows quirked. “Shouldn’t I go away from the light?”
“It doesn’t have the same ring,” he decided. “You’ll have to go toward the light.”
“Toward the light it is.” I waited a moment. “Now what?”
He took my hands and folded them on my chest in the classic body-in-casket pose—and I lost it. Cackling with laughter, I sat up and checked the grass stain on my elbow.
“Next time, I’ll make you laugh first,” I promised.
He grinned as he stood. “You can try.”
I took his offered hand. As he pulled me to my feet, his attention flicked across the wall of trees that marked the shift from manicured estate to wild woodland.
A moment later, Aaron jogged out of the trees. The alumni were right behind him, clipping along at a much faster pace than Ezra and I had. We watched the distant group run up the path toward the manor. Their voices floated on the still air, words indistinguishable but the bantering, taunting tones easy to recognize. They were egging each other on as they ran.
“Glad I didn’t go with them,” I muttered. “Look how fast they’re …”
I trailed off as a straggler stumbled out of the trees, the gap between her and the group widening by the second. She stumbled again, pushing herself, but her stride was stiff and awkward. The alumni at the rear of the group glanced back, noticed her struggling—and kept running.
“Why aren’t they stopping?” I whispered.
As the group stretched into their final run for the manor, a few more alumni spotted the woman but none hesitated. Aaron was at the front of the pack, focused on his victory.
The manor was right there and the woman would be fine. It wasn’t a big deal—yet I found myself leaning forward, silently begging Aaron to notice that a member of his group was being left behind.
Almost at the castle, he finally looked back. He saw the woman. He looked forward again.
My chest constricted.
Then he peeled away from the front of the pack. With swift strides, he sped past the others. Reaching the woman, he drew her to a halt, his head bent forward and a hand on her shoulder. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Beside me, Ezra exhaled too, his narrowed eyes on Aaron. We stood silently as Aaron walked the woman to the manor. They disappeared around the west wing, the last to finish their route.
None of the other alumni had stopped to check on their companion.
Chapter Eight
A yawn stretched my mouth so wide my jaw crunched. I belatedly clapped my hand over my face.
“Sleep badly?” Sin asked sympathetically.
“It’s not so much the lack of sleep,” I muttered, “as the abundance of exercise.”
The car’s leather seat vibrated under my butt as the vehicle rolled along a smooth road. The interior was so quiet I kept forgetting we were in motion. Sin sat beside me, a seatbelt across her chest as she flipped through her potion-splattered grimoire.
After our run, Ezra and I had rejoined Aaron for an indulgent breakfast of crepes, fruit, fresh-baked croissants, and hand-squeezed orange juice. Aaron had left shortly afterward for his first itinerary appointment. He’d apologized again for canceling our run, which I appreciated.
Ezra had dozed off in his chair before breakfast was even over. I’d ordered him back to bed, torn between guilt that I’d cost him sleep and a warm fuzzy feeling that he’d gone with me despite his exhaustion.
That had left Sin and me to entertain ourselves. Valerie had rambled off a long list of suggestions on how we could spend our morning, which was why we were currently being chauffeured down a winding road through the trees. In one of the small communities that bordered the Sinclair Academy’s twelve hundred acres, an Arcana guild boasted a first-class apothecary that attracted visitors from across the province. I wasn’t all that interested in alchemy ingredients, but Sin was too shy to go alone, so here I was.
“So …” I drawled. “Feeling better after yesterday?”
“Ugh.”
“Aaron knows Lily was just being a bratty tween.”
She closed her grimoire, mumbling, “Yeah.”
I cast her an arch look, wondering if Lily’s comment hadn’t been an embarrassing exaggeration. One of my first conversations with Sin had included her summation of the three mages as insanely hot but completely undateable. I’d never considered that she might have an actual crush on Aaron—which made me feel like such a great friend, considering I’d gone and dated him for several months.
She sighed. “At least they haven’t teased me about my name. I figured they’d be quoting How the Grinch Stole Christmas at me all night.”
They’d probably been planning to—right up until I’d read them the Riot Act and threatened bodily harm if they so much as thought about teasing her.
“What were your parents thinking?” I asked with a laughing shake of my head.
“I don’t even know. We all got the same sort of name—Anna May, Cindy Lou, and Lily Belle—but mine is the worst.”
Unfortunately, I had to agree. “Don’t worry about the guys. I handled it for you.”
She arched an eyebrow at my phrasing. “Speaking of handling them … Don’t get mad, okay? But …”
“But what?” I asked warily.
“Do you want to talk about Ezra?”
“What about him?”
“Your feelings for him,” she clarified patiently.
I sucked in a shocked breath and choked on saliva. “Wh-what?”
“I know you’re trying to hide it, but I’m afraid it’s pretty obvious. Well, to me. Probably not to them.”
“I—I’m concerned about him, that’s all. He’s not doing well lately.”
“You don’t need to lie, Tori. My lips are sealed no matter what.”
Behind her words, the meaning was clear: I’m your friend. Trust me.
“I … okay. Okay, fine.” The words stuck on my tongue and I had to fight to get them out of my mouth. “I’m attracted to Ezra.”
“Attracted.”
“Yeah. Starting around Halloween. Or … well, maybe I was attracted to him before and only realized it recently. But yeah, that’s the problem.”
“It’s a problem?”
“He’s my friend. I can’t be attracted to him.”
She gave me a strange look, but I was saved from responding when the car came to a gentle stop. The
tinted window between the driver and the backseat whirred as it descended.
“Ladies,” the chauffeur said politely. “We have arrived. Please enjoy yourselves, and I’ll be waiting here whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” I said as I threw my door open with relief—but the feeling was short-lived, because Sin was back at my side in three seconds, her mouth pressed into a determined line.
“All right,” she said as we surveyed the quaint cluster of houses and shops that bordered the quiet road. Large mosaic flowerpots sat along the curb, waiting to be filled with bright flowers come spring. “Let’s look at this logically.”
I nodded. Logical. That sounded good.
“You have feelings for Ezra, and—”
“No, I have the hots for Ezra.” Feelings were different. Feelings were dangerous.
Before she could argue, I marched across the street to a brick-faced shop with Compton Apothecary hand-painted on a sign above a window displaying various potted plants. As I pushed open the door, a waft of cloying odors hit me—damp mulch, aromatic wood, and every flavor of tea on the planet mixed together.
Right behind me, Sin lowered her voice. “I know I warned you not to get with Aaron’s friends after dating him first, but if you feel that strongly about Ez—”
“I don’t feel that strongly,” I whispered back as we walked aimlessly into an aisle. Plastic bins, each one neatly labeled and filled with dried leaves, lined the shelves. “Have you never been attracted to a guy but it’s just attraction?”
“Yes, but—”
“Ezra was my first friend at the guild.” The declaration surprised me; I hadn’t realized it was true until I’d said it. “Aaron and I started dating almost immediately, so our dynamic was different. Ezra was the first person who was kind to me. He welcomed me when everyone else was still hating the new girl.”
I stopped in front of a plastic tub filled with pussy-willow branches, the top few inches of each twig covered in fuzzy white buds. “How Aaron would react doesn’t matter because I’m not going there with Ezra. It’s a dumb lust-crush, that’s all. It’ll pass.”
Sin studied me but I refused to face her, glaring at the pussy willow.
“I think this thing between you and Ezra is more than lust,” she murmured. “Why not tell him how you feel and—”
“No!” I whirled on her, my eyes wide with horror. “Definitely no. I can’t tell him. He can’t know.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“Sin, he’s not like Aaron. Don’t you see? If he knew how I felt …” I shook my head violently, painful desperation closing my throat. “I can’t lose him.”
“Lose him? You mean his friendship?” She touched my shoulder. “But what if he feels the same way as you?”
I stared blankly, my chest aching, then shrugged off her hand. “Is there anything in here you want to look at?”
She took my hint. In silence, she browsed the shelves of dried herbs, fresh plants, tinctures, oils, and tiny flasks of who knew what. While I moodily followed, she collected an armful of products, occasionally referencing her grimoire before making a selection. Emerging from a narrow aisle, I noticed a guy in his early twenties perched on a stool beside the cash register. He watched us approach, his eyes lingering on Sin.
As she laid her purchases on the counter, I assessed the guy. Sandy blond hair, square jaw, hint of a dimple in his left cheek. Cute. Wholesome. Probably Sin’s type.
I discreetly nudged her with my elbow, but she had her nose in her grimoire again.
“This is the freshest Kalmia latifolia I’ve ever seen outside a greenhouse,” she noted appreciatively. “I can use it to make that blindness elixir we were discussing. Have you trained with the other defensive potions I made you?”
“I’m still working on my aim,” I admitted, wondering how to shift her attention onto the hopeful cashier. “Aaron has me practicing with tennis balls for now.”
The easiest defensive potions to use were contained in glass spheres that could be lobbed at enemies. Simple, easy, basically foolproof—assuming you could hit a target. Which, for me, wasn’t necessarily a given.
“Did you find everything you’re looking for?” the cashier asked in a pleasant tenor, his eyes all over Sin’s face. She still hadn’t noticed his interest. “Can I help you with anything else?”
“I think this is everything,” she replied. “Oh, but I have a question.”
He perked up.
“The shop’s name—Compton Apothecary—is that the same Compton as Kelvin Compton, inventor of the transmorph elixir base?”
Cute Boy’s smile seemed a bit strained. “Yeah, actually. Mr. Compton is the owner. I’m his—”
The door behind him swung open.
“—apprentice,” Cute Boy finished as a second voice boomed, “Did I hear my name?”
A large man with a brown beard braided into two plaits stepped up beside Cute Boy, his thick arms folded across his broad chest. Intense gray eyes glared down at me and Sin.
“Oh,” Sin gasped breathlessly. “Mr. Compton, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve been studying your work on cell transmutation for months.”
Kelvin’s grim scowl lessened slightly. “An apprentice alchemist, I’m guessing.”
“Y-yes, sir. Sin Baker.” She offered her hand, almost dropping her grimoire.
His giant paw engulfed hers.
“Shall I ring up your—” Cute Boy began helpfully.
“I’m intrigued,” Kelvin rumbled. “Which master alchemist has the pleasure of training you, my dear?”
Sin blushed. “Katherine Hewitt of the Crow and Hammer.”
“Hmm. I don’t recognize her name.”
“She—well, she isn’t widely known like you, Mr. Compton, but she just published a thesis on crystallization and its effects on the potency, preservation, and application of—”
“Ah, yes, a worthy topic for research,” he interrupted. “Tell me how far you’ve progressed in cell transmutation, Miss Baker. It’s an advanced area of study for an apprentice as young as yourself.”
Sin’s face lit up. “I developed an interest when I started learning basic healing potions, because, of course, those involve altering living cells to enhance rejuvenative function. I read your paper ‘The Variable Metamorphosis of DNA,’ but”—she laughed—“it was completely over my head at that point.”
He chuckled along with her. “An ambitious starting place. Transmutation is a cornerstone of alchemy, but living cell transmutation is among the most complex applications.”
They continued their discussion, getting more and more technical until I only recognized every third word. As Kelvin boomed another question, Cute Boy gathered up Sin’s herbs, slid them down the counter, and packed them in brown paper. Before my brain short-circuited from the alchemy talk, I followed him.
“That always happens,” he muttered as he neatly folded the paper.
“The big man shows up to amaze alchemist customers?” I asked. “Or he distracts all the hot girls?”
“Both,” he grumbled, blushing as he busily stapled a packet and started on the next one.
I leaned an elbow on the counter. “I can give her your number, if you want.”
Hope brightened his expression, then he grimaced. “That’s kind of lame. For me, I mean. Not that you offered.”
“Hey, if it gets you a date, who cares?” I pointed to a glass jar near his elbow. Unlike everything else in the shop, it wasn’t labeled—probably because the contents were easy to recognize. “Almonds, right? I’m starving.”
“Those are poisonous.”
Uh. Okay, maybe it should be labeled after all. “Never mind.”
Smiling, he wrapped up the last packet and ducked into the back room. A minute later, he reappeared and held out his hand. Into my palm, he deposited half a dozen small candies in colorful wrappers and a scrap of paper with a name and phone number.
I read it upside down. “Thanks, Brian. You’re
cool.”
Five minutes later, Sin and I walked out of the shop. I was carrying the brown bag full of her purchases because she was clutching her grimoire to her chest, cheeks glowing with delight.
“Can you believe he signed my grimoire?” she gushed.
“Yeah, uh-huh. He was kind of grizzled, though. Like a hipster lumberjack.” I popped a second pink candy in my mouth. It fizzled on my tongue, sugar and strawberry and an odd but not unpleasant nutty aftertaste. “What about the cute cashier? He was trying to catch your eye.”
“Was he?” She squeezed her battered grimoire. “Kelvin Compton is a modern legend among alchemists. He invented transmutation recipes that we use regularly in …”
She went technical again and I stifled a sigh. Cute Boy’s number was in my pocket, but it might be kinder to toss it in the trash. The last thing that boy’s ego needed was to listen to Sin idolize his boss for an entire dinner date.
I crunched through my candy, then unwrapped another one. Maybe I wouldn’t mention these either. Ya snooze, ya lose.
Chapter Nine
The driver dropped us off under the manor’s grand carriage porch. We passed Sin’s purchases and grimoire over to Bret, the helpful footman, then headed right back out. As we crossed the circular drive, our breaths puffed white in the December air. The day was unusually dim, the clouds low and heavy. A few determined snowflakes fluttered past us, defying the usual December rain.
Kai was off with his electramage buddies and Ezra was sleeping, but according to Lily, Aaron was substituting for her class this afternoon. I was curious to see him in action, because honestly, imagining him as a teacher was weird.
Sin and I followed shallow white stairs, bordered by stone railings and winter-bare trees, to the academy’s white lecture hall, positioned on a hillside so the windows looked down on the castle and the distant lagoon. Inside, the halls were quiet, the classes in session. We wandered around for a few minutes, peering through the small windows in the classroom doors.
“This feels creepy,” I whispered, stepping back from a door behind which a class of older teens were watching an instructor write on the smart board.
The Alchemist and an Amaretto: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Five Page 7
