“Infamous maybe,” I retorted.
His eyes bulged. Grabbing a vial from his bag, he ripped the cork out and dumped the liquid down his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“You think you’re tough?” he hissed. “Now I’m stronger and faster than you.”
He jumped forward, and before I could understand how swiftly he was moving, he’d buried his fist in my stomach.
I hit the ground on my back, diaphragm paralyzed with agony. The second the muscles unlocked, I flipped onto my stomach and vomited up what felt like my entire stomach and most of my internal organs.
A foot slammed into my ribs, lifting me off the ground. I crashed onto my side, unable to breathe and in worse pain than before. Rolling sideways, I ripped an alchemy bomb off my hip and flung it. It shattered and released an expanding white fog. Brian disappeared, along with the house, the dark trees, and the wolf-demon battle on the lawn.
Ignoring the agony that threatened to buckle my limbs, I scrambled up. Brian had potion-enhanced strength and speed but no combat training. His kick had been powerful but shitty—just like how I used to kick.
A shape appeared in the fog and I flung out my fist. “Ori amplifico!”
My knuckles hit an unknown part of Brian’s body and he flew backward, howling in pain. As he jumped up with extreme speed, I swung my brass knuckles again. They crunched against his throat. I’d been aiming for his face, but whatever.
He lurched, hacking for air. I swung again, but he evaded my fist—and tripped on his heel.
Wait. Sin had told me about speed-enhancing potions. They made your body faster but not your reflexes, rendering you critically clumsy.
I dashed away. He hurtled after me, but I ducked sideways and he flew past, unable to stop himself. As he whirled, I swung at his face again. He dodged, too fast for me, and his super-powered fist hit my sternum.
The ground and I met in another painful impact. Vaguely, I heard rapid-fire explosions nearby. Either Eterran was having trouble defeating the three wolves, or he was toying with them.
With no time to lie around in agony, I rolled up, scarcely evading another kick, and ducked behind a tree. Brian stumbled over a root. I bolted toward the most trip-happy terrain around: the shattered toolshed. Brian chased me, stumbling just often enough for me to stay ahead.
I dove as his fist swung past, grazing my updo. I landed on my stomach and shoved my hand into his duffle bag. Yanking out a random vial of black sludge, I flung it at him.
“No!” he yelled, snatching it out of the air. “Don’t—”
I grabbed another two bottles and threw them. He caught one but the second shattered on the ground.
“Stop it!” he roared.
Snatching up three round bottles, I lobbed them at the tree beside him. They smashed against the trunk, releasing clouds of colorful steam. The colors mixed. The mist began to bubble.
The cloud exploded. The blast knocked me flat, while Brian hit a tree and slid down with a breathless grunt. Pain throbbed through my limbs and despite my brain screaming at my body to move, I could only lie there and groan.
Brian dragged his head up, glaring at me as blood trickled from his mouth. The explosion had done more damage to him than me, and he didn’t seem keen to leap to his feet either.
“I,” he panted, “am the best transmutation alchemist of my generation. Everything was perfect until Sin got bitten. If not for her, I would’ve finished my experiments without anyone noticing.”
Slumped on my back, I returned his glare. “You’re a psycho, not a prodigy, and soon everyone will know it.”
Desperation twisted his face and his wild eyes darted around. “I didn’t have a choice, don’t you get it? Do you know what it takes to compete with the greatest alchemists? I had to do something radical. This job was perfect—perfect—but—”
This job? It hadn’t been a personal project?
“But the shifters—too many—getting out of control,” he babbled, almost pleading with me to understand. “I never meant for them to hurt anyone. Then the academy started investigating, and Compton got involved, and he was bound to realize I was the alchemist behind it, and—”
He gasped in a frantic breath, then hoisted himself to his feet. Before I could get my abused body moving, his fingers closed around my throat. He shoved me to the ground. With his other hand, he dug into his duffle bag. Vials spilled across the leaf litter and a steel box bounced off a rock with a loud clank, its lid popping open.
He raised a metal syringe. “I’ll be fine. I’ve perfected the ultimate transmutation serum—and with it, no one can stop me.”
I gargled against his squeezing hand, trying to warn him. He jammed the needle into his outstretched arm and injected the serum.
“I’ll be as powerful as Ezra now is,” he bragged, a crazed light in his eyes. “I don’t even need Sin anymore as proof that my serum can alter a … a fae … spirit …”
His hand on my throat weakened. He tipped over, out of his crouch, and landed on his butt. Blinking rapidly, he held up his hands and stared as though he couldn’t comprehend why they were trembling.
“This—this is normal,” he panted, breath coming faster and faster. “It’s transforming my body into—”
“It’s poisoning you, you idiot!” I sat up, ignoring my pain. “Is there an antidote?”
“No, no, I’m being transmutated into a—I’m being—” He ran out of air, his limbs shaking. “I—”
His face went white and he doubled over, vomiting. I lurched back.
“I’ll be … powerful …” he gasped between heaves, braced on his hands. “I’ll be … the best …”
“Brian, you need an antidote!”
He retched again, then lifted his white face, breath whistling through his lungs. Terror spread across his features. “There is … no … antidote.”
A shudder ran through him, then he pitched forward, limbs convulsing. Saliva foamed out of his mouth as he seized in the vomit-splattered leaves, throat clenching in spasms but no air entering his lungs.
I couldn’t do a damn thing as his convulsions reached a violent pitch, then weakened. When they finally stopped, his blank eyes stared at nothing, his cheek pressed to the earth, hands curled into claws from his final seizure.
“Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered weakly, unable to tear my eyes away.
“What a foolish genius.”
My head snapped around. Ezra—no, Eterran, his eyes glowing in the darkness, stood a few yards away. The writhing magic on his arms had calmed to a soft glow across his fingers.
I scanned him for injuries—none except for the bite on his forearm—and prepared to push my weak, trembling, aching body up. My wrist nudged the box that had spilled from Brian’s bag and a small piece of paper slid out.
Picking it up, I tilted it toward the light from the house. I could just make out crisp, hard-edged handwriting.
Brian,
Please find enclosed your final stock. I hope to receive a completed sample by the end of the month.
Yours most sincerely,
- X.
I flipped the steel lid open. A foam insert fit snugly inside the box, and five thin, shallow dents suggested narrow vials or test tubes had been safely nestled in the foam for transport.