Read Flawless//Broken Page 5


  “Is it…supposed to shed like this?”

  “Yes,” Darius says quietly, still staring at the bar. “But not this quickly. I’ve never seen it react this fast -”

  He looks up to me. I stare at him, trying not to give away how I feel - confused, hungry, sore, desperately attracted to his every part. In a few more seconds, the small copper bar is completely clean, shining happily in my hand. Darius takes it, his fingers glancing against my own and sending sparks across my skin. Whether that was his weird alchemy or something else, I have no idea. But I felt it as clearly as I feel my gnawing stomach and aching muscles. Darius pulls away quickly, like he felt it too. But he composes himself much quicker.

  “In France, in 1402, there was a man named Nicholas Flamel,” His voice is low as he studies the copper bar in the sunlight. “He discovered a legendary gem called the Philosopher’s Stone.”

  “You mean…the guy in Harry Potter?” I laugh. “You’re totally convincing me all this hocus pocus is real, right now.”

  “The real Nicholas Flamel,” He snaps. “Was a scribe. He sold books. He studied hieroglyphs in his spare time. He came across a scroll that once belonged to an Egyptian alchemist - and it led him to an artifact we know as the Philosopher’s Stone. The Egyptians knew it as the Ankh.”

  “Oh, the Ankh! That thing Egyptian gods carry, right? It looks like the symbol for female or something.”

  Darius looks surprised. “How did you -”

  “I went to college.” I sniff. “For a few months.”

  Darius’ smile is small, and he smothers it quickly. “Regardless, yes. The Ankh was Life, the lifeforce inside all things, made real and tangible in the form of gems no bigger than our palms. The gods carried one stone each. They’d been lost to time, broken or shattered by wars and ancient pharaohs greedy for power, but Nicholas Flamel found the last one. He became an alchemist of great renown by studying it, and single-handedly revived the art of alchemy. He taught many people, and they taught many people, and soon alchemy spread across the globe.”

  “What about the stone? Where is it now?”

  Darius points to me. “In you.”

  I scoff. “Yeah, okay, good one.”

  “I’m entirely serious. As alchemy spread, alchemists came from all over looking for the Philosopher’s Stone. No alchemy can be preformed without the essence of the stone. Nicholas extracted that essence - what we call Azoth - and sold it to alchemists. But a certain group of alchemists got greedy. They wanted the source of Azoth for themselves.”

  “So they killed him.”

  Darius’ eyes darken, the gold turning to hard amber shaded with sadness.

  “These greedy alchemists call themselves the Mutus. The Mutus killed Nicholas, but Nicholas was both wise and far-seeing. He created the greatest work of Alchemy ever known - distilling the entire Philosopher’s Stone into the blood of his two daughters. All the Azoth in the world was in their bodies, and could only be removed and used by drawing some of their blood. Blood carries Azoth. But the Mutus didn’t know this, and continued to search for the stone. Nicholas had long sent his daughters to be married elsewhere. The Azoth was safe, for a time. And then his daughters married, and had more daughters, who had their own daughters. And so Azoth spread around the world, held in the bodies of females of Nicholas Flamel’s bloodline.”

  “So I’m -” I look at my hands.

  “This,” Darius holds up the copper bar. “Is what we call prima materia - the most basic form of matter. It can be turned into anything, provided the alchemist has enough Azoth, and an item of equal value to trade for its creation.”

  “So you could just…just make a bunch of gold out of that right now and get even richer?”

  Darius scoffs. “Fortunately, the Sage Council has rules. They keep tabs on every act of alchemy performed in the world. If one of us gets too greedy or too destructive, they arrest us, bring us before trial, and throw us in Darkland if we’re guilty. No one likes to risk it. Darkland is much, much worse than any human jail could ever aspire to be.”

  He puts the prima materia on the table next to the bacon, and motions to it.

  “The Holy Blood is Azoth. Some human women produce higher concentrations of it than others. And you - raw prima materia reacts to the presence of Azoth by refining itself. You refined it in a matter of seconds.”

  “So I have a lot of Azoth.”

  “Incredible amounts of Azoth,” He corrects.

  “And homunculi…eat Azoth? They eat people like me?”

  “Only the most starving homunculi consume the entire body. The rest prefer to bleed them dry with special incisors they have in their mouth.”

  “Like…like vampires?”

  Darius scoffs. “Vampires don’t exist. Homunculi do. Your human minds created a monster with a far more intricate mythology than the reality. Humans excel at getting creative when they’re terrified.”

  “This is insane,” I say slowly. “You realize that, right?”

  “What’s insane is you leaving the safety of this house and attempting to live a normal life after what I’ve just told you.”

  “This may come as a shock to you, but I don’t want to be involved with this crazy homicidal thing you alchemists have going on!”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Darius snaps, standing abruptly. “The homunculi will keep coming after you, and the Reapers can only protect you so far.”

  “Reapers? Dudes with hoods and big scythes?”

  “Battle alchemists,” He sighs. “Who focus on hunting and killing homunculi to protect humans - look, that isn’t the point. The point is you should stay here, for your own safety, until I can contact the Sage Council and they find you a strong alchemist. Now that your Azoth has matured, the homunculi will swarm you like hungry wolves.”

  I stuff bacon in my mouth to stop my head from spinning and level my blood pressure out. All of this is too much. I chew furiously, the moment of silence between us heavier than a block of lead.

  “I don’t want a strong alchemist. I want to go home and live my damn life.”

  “Most alchemists have an Azoth. They live with the alchemist, and the alchemist uses their blood for experiments. The ones who can’t afford a live-in Azoth buy vials of it from those who can. You have the strongest Azoth I’ve seen - some very wealthy and powerful alchemists would be more than happy to have you live with them. In exchange they’d protect you, and pay you for your Azoth. It’s a very good deal.”

  “Why don’t you have one?” I shoot back, deflecting the focus from me. “You’re rich enough.”

  Darius tenses. I know the second the words leave my mouth that they were the wrong ones. His amber eyes turn to pained golden slits. He looks at his hands, then up at me.

  “I can’t. I would hurt them.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Sir?” We’re interrupted by Reeves rapping on the door. “Should I bring her things down to the car? It’s ready.”

  “No. Change of plans,” Darius says. “She’s staying here.”

  “Like hell I’m staying here,” I stand and grab my bag. I march out the door but Darius is quicker, so much quicker. He blocks it with his lean body, height towering above me. He’s so close I can smell the cloves on him, and my body goes wild, like something’s clawing out of my skin to get to him.

  “You’re staying.” His voice is final, like he’s used to giving orders. I want to obey. The unadulterated longing inside me wants to obey his every command. To submit. But after everything I’d been through, I promised myself I’d never let a man fuck me over again. And I intend to keep that promise to my last breath.

  “I’m leaving,” I glare up at him. “I have a roommate to get back to, and a job to find and a life to live, whether or not I’m a damn Azoth. Now get out of my way.”

  ***

  She’s so incredibly brave, and so infuriatingly stubborn. My admiration for her resolve wars with my irritation at her ludicrously strong will. If s
he leaves, the Sage Council will surely track her down again at a later date provided she avoids homunculi - her Azoth is too strong to go to waste. It could do wonderful - and terrifying - things in the hands of the right alchemist. It was strong enough to feed me just by being in her presence. I didn’t need to consume her blood to feel full, satiated, and content. That alone is evidence enough. Perhaps it could even destroy the homunculi and the Mutus for good. I’d die as well, but it’d be a small sacrifice to rid the world of an evil that has long overstayed its welcome. I have always been ready to die for that cause, no matter how impossible it was. But with this girl’s Azoth -

  Suddenly, a wave of heat washes over my skin, and a low buzz itches at the back of my brain. No. Not here, not now -

  The girl’s glare is interrupted as my wolf Avalanche runs in, her snow-white coat gleaming against the red carpet. Her blue eyes find mine and she barks, tail wagging furiously.

  “I know, Ava.” I kneel and scratch her head. Ava turns to the girl and growls.

  “Looks like she wants me to go, too,” The girl says, and turns on her heel. There’s a flash of silver outside the window she’s passing, and the world seems to move in slow motion as I lunge for her. I can only scream internally and wordlessly. Not her. You’ve taken so much from me, you Mutus bastards, but you will not take her, not my firebird -

  Avalanche is faster than I. She leaps ten feet horizontally, powerful forepaws slamming down on the girl and forcing her to the floor just as the dagger shatters the window and pins to the wall where the girl’s head was but a moment ago. I turn to Reeves.

  “Quickly, arm yourself and get to the basement. Activate the Stormhearts.”

  Reeves nods, and disappears downstairs.

  “Ava, off her,” I say. Avalanche backs off. I bend down and help Mia up.

  “What the hell was that for?” She coughs, brushing glass from her hair. I point to the dagger, and her eyes go wide. “Is it the -”

  “Homunculi,” I nod. “But I have a Thorngate alchemy around the perimeter that repels all homunculi.”

  “Then how did they get in?”

  “Mutus. They have alchemists who can reverse a Thorngate with a Softcarve alchemy. But Softcarve takes huge amounts of Azoth - and the Mutus don’t care much for Azoth lives. I’m sure they sacrificed a few to get in.”

  A bigger crash resounds, and the window shatters in a hailstorm of glass as a woman homunculus barrels in. Her eyes are crazed, completely white with the feeding urge. The girl’s scent, now full and robust, is driving them literally insane. I’ve never seen anything like it. The homunculus lunges, but I slam her against the wall, pinning her there. She gnashes her teeth over my shoulder and growls in an inhuman voice. Then she starts laughing like a banshee at the girl.

  “There you are, pet! Come a little closer!”

  I twist the homunuclus’ head around, the vertebrae cracking. But it doesn’t kill her. She just laughs louder, her head hanging backwards.

  “Coward!” She spits at me. “She’s right there, the best - the sweetest - and you haven’t claimed her. You haven’t even tasted her blood! You’re a fucking coward, a disgrace!”

  I snarl and dislodge a dagger from my arm holster, flipping it into my hand and driving it deep into the woman’s forehead. Her scream is cut off as she explodes in a cloud of dust. I brush it off my suit and turn to the girl.

  “They’re here for you,” I say.

  Mia’s face is now completely white. Avalanche growls low in her throat and the sick heat under my skin rises - a sure sign more homunculi are advancing. I grab the girl’s soft hand, ignoring how small and fragile it feels in my own.

  “Come. We have to get to my lab. I can defend us there. Avalanche, take point.”

  Avalanche barks and races ahead of us. The weight of the four daggers in my arm holsters reassures me. I can take out four homunculi, but I can feel at least twenty outside. Perhaps more. I pull the girl along but she fights in the other direction. She breaks free and with great effort pulls the dagger that was meant for her from the wall, and comes back to me.

  “I’m n-not going without a weapon,” She manages. My chest swells with a strange pride.

  “Smart girl. Stay close to me, and do as I say.”

  “Gladly. At least until the stabby-murder bits are over.”

  We follow Avalanche, her white tail like a banner and her nose sharper than any radar. She leads us away from the main hall and into my library. The girl’s eyes go wide at the colossal shelves and Turkish carpet.

  “This is -” She stands on her tiptoes to read the spines of a few books. “These are first edition Shakespeare! Shouldn’t these be in a museum or something? Oh god, that’s first-edition Emily Dickinson!”

  “Imminent death is hardly the time to be ogling my book collection, don’t you think?” I make my way to the massive, copper-set globe by the window, though I’m secretly pleased she recognizes them. I rotate it so that Hawaii is forty degrees south and ten degrees east, then turn to her. “Come here. I need your Azoth.”

  She tears herself away from the books only when Avalanche, who’s keeping guard at the door, barks hard and fast. The sounds of glass breaking downstairs is more ominous then anything. My skin crawls like there’s lava beneath it.

  “Come to me,” I make my voice steely. “Now.”

  The girl hurries over, offering her wrists. “Slice ‘em if you have to. But if people start pitying me because the scars look like I tried to kill myself, I’m blaming you.”

  “Don’t ever try to kill yourself,” I snap. “You’re far too valuable as an Azoth.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Gee, thanks for the concern.”

  I take her hand and put it on the globe. I’d normally drip one of the many vials of Azoth I have in my jacket onto the globe, but this girl’s mere physical touch will do. The globe radiates light, reacting to her blood instantly. Behind us a bookshelf rumbles to the side, revealing a set of stairs retreating down into darkness.

  “So,” The girl says slowly, eyeing the hidden staircase with hardly-disguised mirth. “I gather you’re a fan of Batman.”

  I’m about to ask her if she ever stops being snarky when I hear a beastly chuckle from the hall, and Avalanche’s growl heightens to menacing levels. I whirl and detach a dagger from my forearm, flinging the silver blade across the room and into the forehead of a homunculus in a business suit. His eyes roll back into his head, so far the whites show, and he’s a cloud of cinder and ash before he hits the floor. Mia seems frozen at the sight, but grips her dagger harder and ducks into the hidden staircase before I can order her to. I walk in after her.

  “Avalanche!” I call. The wolf inclines her head, but ignores me and keeps growling at the doorway. We’ve been together long enough for me to know what that means - she’ll stay behind and fight. She hasn’t seen any action for far too long, and her feral blood is singing for a kill. I close the bookshelf, the heavy thunk comforting.

  “I can’t see anything,” Mia says. Though neither of us can see, I can smell her clearly - the heavenly scent alerting me to just how painfully aware my body is of her at all times. What would it be like, I think for a moment, to press her against the wall and taste her, in this silken darkness? How delightfully would she moan, how far would she let me go -

  Fury pushes the tainted thoughts out of my head. The presence of my kind is getting to me - infecting me with the urge to feed. I have to move quickly, or I may do something to her I’ll regret for the rest of my pathetic life. I cut a piece of my hair off and wrap it around the handle of the dagger.

  “Ignis,” My voice echoes and the dagger pommel leaps with flame, like a small torch. I hold it by the blade. The last drop of Azoth stored inside its hollow handle disappears, sacrificed for our light.

  “Where’s your dog?” The girl looks around.

  “She’s a wolf, not a dog, and she’s staying behind to buy us time. Let’s ensure her deed does not go to waste.”

 
“I didn’t get to thank her for saving me,” She murmurs. My harsh tone eases at her concern.

  “You will. Ava will return unscathed. She always does.”

  I lead the way down the stone steps, the dagger-torch flickering with light. My mind races with alchemical formulas to drive off our attackers. Which alchemist among the Mutus is strong enough to break my Thorngate? Brenneth? McCoy? Or is it Oliver himself? Now that they’re aware of this girl, they’ll never rest until they have her.

  “Mia Redfield,” The girl breaks our silence.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Mia. That’s my name. We sort of skipped proper introductions.”

  The tension in my shoulders softens. It’s a luxurious name, the kind that rolls off the tongue. Her curling midnight hair dances with the dagger’s firelight, her face carved in gentle shadow. The darkness flickers over her rosebud mouth, her delicate nose, her intriguing scar, and for a moment I’m hypnotized by her. Her Azoth is so near and so powerful, filling me in ways long forgotten in my centuries of self-inflicted hunger. She could satisfy me. She could fill my hunger, once and for all. I would never have to be in pain again.

  ‘Coward!’

  I shake my head. Her presence is enough. Her presence is all I deserve. I can think clearly, move quickly, and more than that - I want to. No longer will I sit in this marble prison and wait for death. There is hope. There is Azoth. There is her.

  “Darius,” I manage. “I’m Darius Montclaire.”

  PART SIX

  SIX

  Chapter 6

  SIX

  Darius leads us down the stairs for what feels like forever. Stone and shadow are all we see, and then the stairs stop. At the bottom is a massive room carved straight out of the rock. But unlike the chilly, unlived-in elegance of the mansion upstairs, this room is cozy. Tapestries hang from the walls with beautiful geometric patterns. Huge hardwood desks hold warm gas lamps and piles of papers, books, binders, and old-looking scrolls. The air is permeated with the comforting smell of ancient paper and woodsmoke. Strange brass fittings with crystal globes hang from the ceiling - some of them filled with suspended lightning, others with flames, and a few with slowly rotating ice shards. Metal instruments with weird runes carved into them are nailed to the walls, ready to use. The centerpiece of the room is a huge stainless steel counter, where lab equipment of the highest caliber rests - glass beakers, distillers, burners, a mixing station; I’ve seen enough science labs back at the University to know all of it is painstakingly cared for and clean. A cabinet labeled CHEMICALS is crammed into one corner, and in a back cove is a small bed, nested with messy blankets and pillows. Darius might play house with Reeves upstairs, but he definitely lives down here.