Undead Alchemist Read online

  “We have authority. You signed the documents when you registered as a demon fighter,” Lycra Shorts said.

  He handed me some papers. I flipped through them. They looked vaguely familiar, and they did have my signature on them. I hadn’t bothered reading them at the time because they were a total yawn. I hadn’t realized I’d be signing my life away, maybe literally.

  “We also have this report.” He handed me more papers.

  Hey, that report was from Bob Kelpie, my old mentor. What did he have to say about me?

  I skimmed through the report. It was complete garbage. I mean, like, tabloid-journalism-type garbage. He said I’d shacked up at the lair with multiple vampire sex partners. Well, technically, that was true, but it wasn’t like it sounded on paper. I’d done it for good reasons, like having to break Nic’s bond with the Demon Child and helping Kisho fight his father. And also because they were both really hot, and, anyway, why was my sex life any of their business?

  There was more. I’d refused a request to work with the Council. No mention of it being a stupid offer, though. What the hell had the Council even been doing while the city was being razed? These guys definitely wouldn’t see the logic in that. I’d turned down a significant amount of money to follow my principles, and this was what had come from it. Morals—they aren’t nearly as rewarding in real life as they are in movies.

  There was other stuff, too. Nothing flattering. I was not petulant and money-hungry.

  “So, there’s nothing in Bob’s report about him teaming up with the mayor to work for the Vampire King?” I pushed the papers back across the table. “Nothing about his use of forbidden black magic? None of that. He’s the one you should be investigating, not me.”

  The old men sat there, stony-faced. Outside, there was the noise of construction work in the neighborhood. A plane flew by. Lycra Shorts shuffled some papers. But there were no sounds of agreement with my clear logic.

  Finally, Baldy coughed. “Ms. Starr, I’m beginning to think you suffer from paranoid delusions.”

  I sat forward, stretching my arms out on the table and crossing my fingers. I needed to talk seriously with this guy.

  “You have paranoid delusions, buddy, if you think Bob Kelpie is on your side. Even worse if you think the mayor is. The mayor is shady as fuck. He was responsible for the death of Harry McConchie.”

  Still nothing from the three guys, although Gone to Seed’s nostril twitched a little. Was that a twitch of sympathy?

  “So, if you have nothing sensible to say, I’ll present the charges raised against you.” Baldy didn’t even look at me. “Firstly, conspiring and working with vampires. Secondly, disobeying a Council command to work with us, and, finally, passing yourself off as human when the evidence shows otherwise.”

  I sat back and glared at him. Was the pleasure of punching him worth the risk of more shocks from these cuffs?

  “Whoa, buddy. What evidence? I’m totally human. You have no evidence.”

  Baldy handed over another pile of papers. “DNA analysis.”

  “Where the hell did you get my DNA from? You can’t just go around stealing people’s DNA, you know. There are laws about that kind of thing.”

  I gave him my evilest glare, but that didn’t stop him.

  He glared back. “Those laws do not apply to us.”

  “So, what did the DNA analysis prove? Maybe I should get my own analysis done, just to show that you’re wrong.”

  I could read through the papers he’d given me, but a summarized version would be nice.

  “The test results prove you aren’t human. They don’t show what you actually are. We plan to hold you for further testing until we get a more conclusive result,” Lycra Shorts said.

  Before we’d ended his evil regime, the Vampire King had called me names. Nymph. Siren. But they’d just been names. They’d meant nothing. I was human. My parents had been human, too. Everything about me was as human as a human could get.

  This was another of their evil ploys to discredit me.

  “You will return to your cell now and remain there until we can arrange further testing,” Baldy said.

  He turned away as though he was dismissing me.

  “Wait. I can’t go back there to be starved and beaten. You’d better feed me. And you should give me back my phone, too. Even better, release me from this hellhole.”

  “You can be released under special circumstances,” Gone to Seed said.

  “Yeah, that sounds better. I mean, I have these evil cuffs on. I can’t escape, but maybe I could see some of your beautiful city. Check out some of the famous cafes. Hey, Czech it out. Get it?”

  No one laughed.

  I turned my focus back to Gone to Seed and shot him my sexiest grin. The one that promised fun. Could I actually sleep with that guy to get released, though? I mean, if I had a few drinks and squinted my eyes, he was a little George Clooney-like.

  Kisho would surely forgive me if I did. If he knew it was a matter of life and death.

  I didn’t have much idea about fidelity. Sure, I knew the basics, but I had no practical experience. I’d never been in a position where I’d cared about someone else’s feelings before. Love complicated moral decisions. Maybe Kisho and I should’ve discussed this beforehand. It was one of those relationship discussions we’d put off.

  I’d be totally okay if it was the other way around, but I could never do anything to hurt Kisho. I just needed to know if it would hurt him when it meant I’d get out of prison. Ouch—my wrists buzzed again. I wasn’t even thinking of escape, just being released. That wasn’t fair.

  “Yes, release is possible,” said Lycra Shorts, tapping his pen on the table. “But she needs a human to vouch for her. A trustworthy human. She can have her phone back if she wants to contact someone.”

  He said that like he thought no human would vouch for me. He was so wrong. I was the most vouchable person ever. I’d show him.

  “I’m sure we can arrange some food,” Gone to Seed said.

  “A warmer blanket would be nice, too,” I said. I wondered if I stretch this to cake.

  One look at Baldy proved cake would be out of the question.

  “Oh, and keep those papers,” Baldy said. “They’re just copies.”

  Before I could say any more, the guard came in and dragged me back to my cell. Would I even get phone reception in that dungeon?

  Chapter 3 Vouching

  IT WAS FINE FOR THOSE dudes to say I could use my phone, but they gave me no phone credit and I had to call using roaming rates. Roaming charges! Hells. Not only did they torture me and starve me and lock me up, they wanted to drive me to poverty, too.

  I tried calling Kisho. He must be worried sick, but when I tried his number, the cuffs zapped so hard, I couldn’t hold the phone. Same when I tried calling Nic. Fucking fuck sticks. Fuckity fuck fuck.

  I called Francine and explained the situation.

  “You’ll have to fly out here,” I told her. “Leave Tabia in charge. Not Rose. I don’t trust her. Got to go. Time is money. I’ll text next time. Oh, how is work going?”

  “We’ve had a few new clients. Pretty easy incubus killings.”

  “Sweet. That might pay for these calls. Oh, Francine, can you —”

  Shitsticks. Even thinking of asking Francine to pass a message to Kisho killed the fuck out of me. When I got free, I’d—damn. Again. My arm would be fried to a pulp. If I didn’t get those cuffs off soon, they’d look like a slab of meat on a kebab spit. Not even fresh meat, but the remnants of meat left on the spit on a Sunday morning.

  “Never mind,” I said. Hopefully, she’d have the good sense to call Nic or Kisho without me having to spell it out.

  I hung up and started packing my belongings to leave. That took all of thirty seconds. The only thing I had in this cell that I wasn’t wearing were those stupid papers the suits had given me. Soon, I’d be back with Kisho, and he’d give me that sweet smile with his amazing dimples. I’d be sleeping in
his arms instead of on that torturous camp bed. I’d snuffle my face into his neck, and he’d hold me tight. And, oh my God, coffee. I’d be reunited with my sweetest friends.

  “Why are you smiling?” the guard asked when he came to give me my prison rations.

  “I’m getting out of here. Sorry, my old friend, but tomorrow will be the last day we have together.”

  He grunted.

  “I know you’ll be sad, but, hey, you knew going into it that it was only temporary. You and I, like ships that pass in the night. But maybe we could stay friends.”

  He grunted again. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

  What a sad sack. My hopes were as up as they could get. Francine was a trustworthy human.

  Then she sent me a message: Can’t get a flight until Friday, unless you want to pay for first class.

  Damn, but that wouldn’t dampen my spirits. I messaged her back: I guess one more day here won’t kill me.

  But the next day, Baldy actually came to see me in my cell. He started leaning against the wall, then realized it had centuries of mank on it and jumped away.

  “We’ve had to decline your request. We did a routine investigation and found out that woman works for you. I’m afraid you can’t have one of your own employees vouch for you.”

  His thin smile chilled me.

  “Jeez, I don’t even pay her, so how can she count as an employee? She’s just someone who hangs out in my office. I can sack her. She’s on her way here. She’s paid for a flight, even. At least compensate me for that.”

  Baldy shook his head. “We can’t hand you over to just anyone. There are a few dubious things in her past, too. She’s cohorted with vampires.”

  Well, he wasn’t wrong there. Francine cohorted the hell out of vampires. You don’t get to be a vampire groupie without a bit of cohorting. Still, that seemed a minor thing.

  “If anything, employing non-Council-registered staff might be seen as another misdemeanor.”

  He smiled that thin smile again.

  “I told you, I don’t pay her.”

  Baldy walked off, but I wasn’t finished with him.

  “Hey, Baldy,” I called out. Shit, I should’ve remembered his name. Calling him Baldy wouldn’t endear me to him. “I need more food.”

  “My name is Barry. And you can’t possibly be hungry. You only ate an hour ago. It’s four more hours until dinnertime.”

  “No way, Bazza. I’m starving. Look how hollow my belly is.” I pulled up my t-shirt and showed him. “And another thing. I need to shower and have a change of clothes. I stink. I offend myself, I stink so much.”

  “No shower, no change of clothes. Not until we start the testing on you. That’s my orders.”

  I guessed I’d never learn who he got his orders from. And that seemed suspicious to me. No shower? Who’d even want to do tests on me?

  “Shit, man. Not even a fresh pair of underwear? What if I get my period?”

  Baldy shook his head and walked off. Hell, what would I do if I got my period? No tampons in this dungeon. Not even a pad.

  “We’ll send one of the female guards down with some products if that happens.”

  “If? Hey, I’m a fully functioning woman. It’s going to happen. Regular as clockwork. And that manky bucket. Seriously, who shits in a bucket? Not me, my friend. I’d die of constipation first. Your tests will be useless then. No fun testing on a dead, constipated corpse.”

  Baldy turned back to look at the bucket. “I’ll let them know you can use the bathroom twice a day. Time it well. It will be two times a day only.”

  “Thanks, mate.”

  I gave him a thumbs-up. My life had become so sad that I could be happy about toilet privileges.

  When he was gone, I messaged Francine to let her know. She replied to say she could cancel the flight and they had another new client. There was a bright side, even if I’d wasted maybe thousands of dollars on international calls and texts.

  I went through my contacts. Who else could I call?

  Portia Manchelli. Of course. She owed me big time. We went way back, and I’d gone to that nightclub to find her sister. Also, saved her from an apocalypse. She should be begging me to do me this favor.

  Before I called, I shouted for the guard. First, I wanted to check that she counted as a trustworthy human before I wasted money on another useless phone call.

  “Sakra!” the guard said, obviously some cool foreign cuss word. “I’m not here to run around for you.”

  “Hey, at least you no longer have to empty my piss bucket. That’s good news, right?”

  I wasn’t sure whether that grimace was happiness or anger. I thought he might still be angry, because the last time he’d come in to empty the piss bucket, I’d tried to clock him on the head with the slat off the camp bed. It didn’t work, and he spilled the bucket on his boots. They were sturdy boots, but I hadn’t been able to get that bed back together since.

  When he came back to take me on my toilet break, he told me I had the green light. Well, he didn’t say green light, but some weird Czech expression. I got the idea, though. Woo-hoo. Straight after toilet break, I’d call Portia.

  It’s only after pissing in a bucket for a few days that you really appreciate the joy of a flush toilet. It wasn’t even a fancy bucket. No seat. I had to sit on the cold metal edge. But, still, it offered a multitude of benefits, not in the least being no splash-back. And toilet paper. My dearest friend.

  Portia wasn’t nearly as happy to hear from me as I’d thought.

  “You want me to come to Prague and babysit you?” she said. “I can’t just drop everything and do that. This city is in the middle of major reconstruction. We’re up to our necks in work. And, speaking frankly, Clem, I’m not sure I want responsibility for you.”

  Jeez Louise. After all I’d done for her. Bitch.

  “Okay, but don’t come running to me the next time you need saving from an apocalypse or any crap like that.”

  I hung up.

  That pretty much was the entire list of humans I could count on. Well, the ones I thought I could count on. I ran though everyone else I knew, but nope. No good. Hell, I couldn’t even remember who some of these people in my phone contacts were. Luke? Oh, as in Luke cries after sex. I deleted him. Connor? Couldn’t remember him at all. Skylor? Total deadbeat.

  Maybe I should’ve invested more time in befriending people who weren’t jerks. If I got out of this jail, I’d work on that.

  I tried to call Nic again, but before I could even finish pressing his number, the pain shot up my arms. Those cuffs. Hell.

  I paced my cell, trying to think of someone I knew who could help me. Surely the entire sum of human people I knew in my life had to be greater than that. There was Timon and the old man with the ducks, but neither of them had a cell phone. Or a landline.

  Water dripped down the wall, and rats rustled somewhere. Those rats—I was sure they were conspiring on ways to get me. I was a sitting target. They’d chew my toes and make nests in my hair. Seriously, being taken to a nice clean lab and being prodded and probed would beat the hell out of this place.

  The guard came back and handed me some food.

  “Can we maybe get some variety? This stew stuff is okay, but a balanced diet is important. Cake? Ever heard of that?”

  The guard grunted and walked away.

  “Also, a book or something would be really nice. I can’t just lie around all day staring at that beam of sunlight, you know. I have an active mind, and I don’t like being left alone with my own thoughts!” I yelled after him, but he didn’t even turn back.

  I had those stupid papers that the Council guys had given me. They sat in the bucket since I didn’t have anywhere else to keep them. But who wants to read horrible stuff about themselves? Not me.

  I curled up on my cot and went back to my favorite fantasy, the one where I tied up Kisho and ran kisses down his belly until he begged me, and I never knew if he was begging me to stop or to keep going, bu
t it didn’t matter because it was the raspy way he said “please” that got me every time. I really needed to tie him up more often. We both liked that a lot. I’d wasted my opportunities in life.

  I heard footsteps. Not the usual heavy thud of the guard. Maybe it was a new guard. A nice guard who’d let me shower and give me books and cake. I could only wish.

  I sat up.

  When they reached the light beam, I knew my mind had warped from being in this dungeon, because that sure as hell looked like Kisho. Oh, I missed him so much. I remembered he smelled nice, but the exact smell of him had gone from my mind. But he was warm and gorgeous and I loved him. I had to be hallucinating, or maybe dying, to see him here so clearly in front of me.

  Then someone spoke.

  “You do not have an active mind, Clem Starr. You have a dull and slow mind, at best.”

  That could only be one person.

  Chapter 4 Nic

  NIC WALKED INTO THE sunbeam. I would not hallucinate Nic. He must be really here, and that meant Kisho was also real. My whole body exploded with happiness.

  “We’ve come to rescue you,” Kisho said. “Francine told us you were in trouble. And in Prague. Why didn’t you call us?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  Wow, seeing Kisho here in front of me, it was a wonder those metal bars didn’t melt. I’d forgotten just how hot he was. That bottom lip of his—I needed to have that against my skin. I reached out for him. I needed to touch him. If he got close enough to those bars, I was sure we could manage sex. But, hey, what were they doing here? By rescuing me, they’d walked right into the heart of the Council. The Council who had that “kill vampires on sight” order out. This was way too dangerous for them.

  “How did you get here?”

  “I thralled the guard, but we don’t have much time.” Nic held up the key to my cell.

  “That’s all fine and dandy, but there’s another problem.” I showed him my wrists and explained about the cuffs. “If I try to escape, I’ll be paralyzed with pain. Still, nice work, Nic.”