“Yü Nü is way more powerful than I am.”
They threw back their head and laughed. “Dumb girl, I wouldn’t trust Yü Nü to make me dinner, much less a potion. She’d poison me in a heartbeat.”
“You think I won’t?”
“Of course not. Because if you fuck me, your boyfriend dies.”
Before I could register their intention, Gregor rounded on Morales, raised his gun, and pulled the trigger.
The gunshot screamed a split second before Morales doubled over. My skin went cold and my pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out the sound of my screams. Rough hands held me back as I struggled to break away and go help him.
His chair fell over and he curled up in a ball. Next to him, Duffy tipped his own chair over and tried to check him over despite both of their hands being bound behind them.
“Duffy!” I yelled.
“They got him in the shoulder. Can’t tell if it went through.”
“Ouch,” Aphrodite said. “I bet that hurts.”
“Let me help him!” Duffy demanded. Aphrodite nodded to let the guard untie the detective. Once he was loose, he ripped off his shirt, untied Morales, and got him sitting upright. I watched the process with my breath held. Morales was pale and sweating, and his torso had way more blood staining it than I wanted to see, but he managed to nod in my direction.
“Better get to work before he loses too much blood. Or I get bored and have Gregor put another bullet in him.”
I jerked out of my captor’s hold. “You will fucking die today,” I promised.
“Unless you want him to die, I suggest you make sure I don’t, bitch.” Those eyes flashed bright again, underscoring the promise. “The book is over there with the cooking supplies.”
I looked to where they were pointing. The “lab” they’d indicated was little more than a plastic folding table with a shitty Bunsen burner, a few test tubes, and a few bottles with labels I couldn’t read. “You’ve got to be kidding. There is no way I can cook with that shit.”
“Best try.” They waved their hand like sending me off to go pick out a puppy from a store window rather than forcing me to cook an immortality potion.
I went to the table and picked up the book. It was an old volume with a cracked leather spine and yellowed pages. The writing inside was done by hand, and it appeared to be some sort of grimoire kept by an old wizard who called himself The Bard.
The recipe’s ingredients were fairly straightforward. Most alchemical processes were. But the simplicity of the ingredients was misleading. The true complexity of any alchemical potion was found in the skill of the wizard to transmute intention into magic. It wasn’t just a matter of mixing a bunch of chemicals—it was about the right wizard mixing them in the right way and infusing them with the right energy.
I wasn’t the right wizard for this job. I had power, yeah, but I hadn’t had enough practice in the last decade to use it with the discipline needed for a powerful potion like this one.
“I’m going to need help,” I said.
“Who?” Aphrodite asked.
I looked around the room. Morales was out for obvious reasons, Duffy looked about as rattled as I’d ever seen him, and Yü Nü wanted Morales dead. That left Harry Bane, who was unconscious and a blood wizard.
Or I could call in a wild card.
I looked the Hierophant in the eye and said, “Volos.”
I felt Morales’s gaze shoot my direction, but I pretended to ignore it. Aphrodite didn’t laugh like I’d expected. “Why?” Their eyes narrowed.
“Because he’s a better cook than I am. I can read the potion to make sure it’ll work, but he’s always been the stronger cook.”
“You expect me to bring the mayor in here?”
“You want your fucking potion to work?” I lifted my chin. “Besides, he’ll be added insurance for you. No one’s going to risk shooting the mayor.”
They stepped away to go confer with Gregor. My heart slammed into my ribs like a Rottweiler trying to get out of a cage. Calling in Volos was a huge gamble. But I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t sure I had the chops to cook that potion. Plus, I didn’t know anyone more conniving than Volos. If anyone could fuck over Aphrodite and make sure we walked out alive, it was him.
I kept my expression neutral as they debated, because Aphrodite kept shooting suspicious glances my way. Finally, the Hierophant smiled like a snake. “He wouldn’t do anything to risk her. Actually, it should be fun to watch him help her while she’s trying to save her other man.”
I clenched my jaw. At some point soon, I’d be paying Aphrodite back for all of this. Until I had that opening, I needed to play it smart. “Are we doing this or what?”
Gregor brought my cell phone and made me give him my code. Before they hit send on Volos’s number, Aphrodite warned, “If you say one thing wrong, I will murder Duffy and put another bullet in Morales. Am I clear?”
I nodded and swallowed the bile in my throat. Aphrodite hit the number. The phone barely rang before Volos answered. “Kate, where the hell are you?”
“Shut up and listen to me. I need you to get away from the others and come help me.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t say. Just promise you’ll come alone.”
“Of course.”
Aphrodite covered the mouthpiece and said, “Tell him what happens if he tries to be a hero.”
“They’re going to kill us.”
Aphrodite smiled.
“Who?” His voice had the controlled tone of a man resigned to committing premeditated murder.
“Aphrodite.”
“I understand. Where?”
A wave of emotion rose up. If he came, it could mean his death, but he hadn’t hesitated. “Wait alone in the alcove to the left of the theater entrance.”
“On my way. Kate?”
“Yeah?”
“We’ll figure this out together.” Those simple words held complicated promises. I didn’t want to think too hard about what this would cost me, needing him. But I knew that I had no choice.
After the call, I went to the table to start prepping the cook. Keeping my hands busy kept me from looking toward Morales. I told myself this was for his own good. The more distracted I was by his injury, the longer it would take to make the potion.
But the real truth was, I avoided looking at him for my own good. Because I knew he’d have a couple of strong opinions about me calling in Volos to help me. It wouldn’t do any good to tell Morales I was only doing this to save him. But that wasn’t the whole truth, and we’d both know it.
My hands shook as I fired up the Bunsen burner. With nothing left to do until my sous-chef arrived, I lifted the book and began to read. According to The Bard, a shortcut to the Philosopher’s Stone, also known as the Panacea—or universal cure and key to immortality—was to use someone else’s stone and combine it with the “Hand of the Philosophers.”
Even though I’d studied dirty magic on the streets, I had passing familiarity with the idea behind the Hand. The term referred to five mineral salts that could be used to unlock the mineral or metallic essences. If I was reading the instructions right, The Bard was claiming that if you could steal someone’s stone or get part of it and mix the with the five salts, you could unlock immortality. In this case, the Philosopher’s Stone would be Yü Nü’s horn.
The music upstairs reached a crescendo. The next moment, pounding came from the door. I turned in time to see the guards open it for Gregor and Volos.
The instant Volos stepped across the threshold, the air in the room instantly ignited with a new electrical charge. It wasn’t just me, either. Aphrodite shivered and Morales moaned, as if Volos’s arrival brought him new physical pain.