As I bore down on her, a beaming smile lit her face. “Tori,” she gushed. “Where have you been? You were so right about Brian. He’s really cute!”
I checked myself before I dumped my inner turmoil all over her adorable happiness. “Where is he?”
“He’ll be back in a minute or two.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “I didn’t really notice him before because Kelvin is so … so much, you know? But Brian is amazing. He rivals Kelvin’s genius, I swear. He’s really, really smart.”
“Is he?” I hadn’t gotten any “prodigy” vibes off the blushy, awkward apprentice.
She widened her eyes in emphasis. “He’s amazing. Really. You should hear him talk about the theory of phantasm osmosis. I learned so much.”
“Did you?” I peered more closely at her face. “Are you drunk? Alcohol won’t affect your anti-shifter potion, will it?”
“No, no. Brian said it was fine. He gave me the last dose half an hour ago.” Her gaze sharpened. “Where have you been?”
“I … I need to talk to you about that.”
Desperation had leaked into my voice and she straightened. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, but—”
Tobias walked through the door, spotted us, and hurried over. A waiter followed him, carrying a tray with a decanter and several cordial glasses.
“Ladies,” he said, nudging his spectacles up his nose. “Have you seen Aaron?”
“Nope,” I answered.
The headmaster oozed disgruntlement. “When you see him, let him know the Langleys have left. They couldn’t wait any longer to speak with him.”
“Oh, what a shame,” I muttered under my breath.
Tobias’s eyes flashed. Oops, guess that hadn’t been under-my-breath enough.
Too emotionally raw for tact, I couldn’t stop the next words from falling out of my mouth, laced with biting sarcasm. “Are you surprised he doesn’t enjoy hearing you and Valerie crap all over his accomplishments, pretend he never joined a subpar guild, and act like he’s incapable of making his own decisions?”
Sin’s mouth hung open in shock. Er … maybe I’d gone too far.
Tobias’s face remained carefully blank. He gazed at me for a long, painful moment, then turned to the waiter and scooped two glasses off the man’s tray. “Ladies, please enjoy the amaretto.”
Sin and I accepted the glasses, and the headmaster walked off, shadowed by the waiter. I took a deep breath, trying not to cringe at my runaway mouth.
“Is this the Lucchese amaretto you were telling me about?” Sin asked, kindly refraining from any commentary on my exchange with Tobias. She sniffed her glass. “I was disappointed I missed it.”
I took a sip and spicy, nutty sweetness flooded my taste buds. “Yep, this is the stuff.”
She took a small mouthful, and her eyes went out of focus before she swallowed. “Wow. Wow. It’s so sweet, and I love the nutty taste.”
“Bitter almonds,” I informed her, jumping on the chance to trot out my dusty knowledge of liquors. “They’re poisonous to eat but amaretto only contains the almond oil, which isn’t poisonous. Neat, huh?”
“Hmm.” She took another sip and held it in her mouth, savoring the flavors. “It’s really excellent. Have you tried Brian’s candies? They have a nutty taste like this too. They’re so good they’re practically addictive …”
She trailed off, staring vaguely at nothing.
“Sin?” I prompted.
“Addictive.” She spun to face me, her eyes feverish and wild. “How did I not realize it? The tree—Tori, do you remember the tree? In the clearing? Where the shifters first attacked us?”
“The …” I squinted, thinking back. “There was a wild almond tree?”
“Yes!” She grabbed my arm. “Bitter almonds. They’re an alchemic ingredient! It’s rarely used in consumable potions because when it’s transmutated in certain ways, it becomes addictive.”
I blinked.
“Dangerously addictive,” she emphasized. “Enough to drive a person mad.”
Understanding clicked, and I could hear it in my head—a thin bough crunching as the naked, delirious shifter tore his teeth through the bark. “Addictive enough to make someone chew on an almond tree branch to satiate their craving?”
“Yes!” She paced two steps, then whirled back. “And the cherry trees by the lecture hall! Remember they were damaged like the wild almond tree? Cherry trees are in the same family.”
“Addicted shifters damaged them to get an almond fix!” I nodded frenetically. “The shifter attacks on students all took place in the same area. I bet the shifters were drawn there by the cherry trees.”
“And that sick shifter you saw—shaking, weak, disoriented, breathing fast, right? Cyanide poisoning. He must’ve been eating bitter almonds. Whoever altered the shifters used bitter almonds as an ingredient!” Her intensity faltered into confusion. “But why? I can’t think of any purpose they could serve in this kind of transmutation.”
We frowned at each other. I remembered the naked shifter in the woods—his pained moans and desperate demands for “more.” Why add an unnecessary ingredient that caused such horrible side effects?
“It’s addictive,” I whispered, stepping back in realization. “Sin, what if the alchemist added bitter almonds because they’re addictive?”
“The alchemist wants the potion to be addictive? Why?”
“For control. We assumed these mutated shifters came here to live in the woods—but what if they were created here? Some of them are really messed up, with strange wounds and stuff. That can’t be intentional.”
She made a sound of understanding. “The alchemist must be experimenting, trying to perfect his transmutation, and he got the shifters addicted to control them while he experiments.”
“But wouldn’t that mean,” I said slowly, “that if the shifters are here … the alchemist experimenting on them must be nearby too?”
Sin’s face went white. “Oh. Oh no.” She jerked straight. “I need to ask Kelvin something.”
“Huh? But Sin—”
“I’ll be right back!” She took three steps, then whirled around. “Find the guys. I’ll get Kelvin. If I’m right—I might be wrong—but if I am—just get them!”
She sprinted for the door, her dress flapping around her legs. I gawked after her, then looked around the room. The final guests had departed, as had most of the academy staff and guild members—heading home to spend Christmas with their families. The musicians had packed up. Two waiters were lingering by the buffet, waiting to begin cleanup.
Aaron, Kai, and Ezra were all absent. Leaving my amaretto on the table—after our discussion of the poisonous and addictive properties of bitter almonds, I wasn’t so keen to drink it—I hastened out of the room, across the entry hall, and up the stairs to the third level.
The double doors to Aaron’s suite were closed. I rapped my knuckles on the wood, waited a moment, then entered. Aaron wasn’t a big stickler for privacy. He wouldn’t mind.