“They’re called formulas, my dear, and no mere mortal alive today could have mastered this language and learned enough to interact with a tome such as this. As you felt, it’s warded against simpletons turning its pages, and I do not teach the dangerous arts to my followers. Only enough for them to poison a brutal lover or abusive parent if they wish. Self-defense, if you will.”
“Noble of you.”
“Yes.”
I had about given up on him getting to the point and offering me useful information when he touched the sigil. “For your two hundred dollars there, I’ll tell you that this formula was created as a way to kill people slowly so that suspicion would be drawn neither to the deliverer of the formula nor the alchemist who created it.”
“How much time does it take for the victim to die?” I whispered.
“Oh, four to six weeks for most people.”
I swallowed. How long had it already been since Willard had been dosed?
“This is the list of ingredients. A few of them would be challenging to acquire, at least for this landlocked vampire.”
“Do you know who made the pot—formula and if there’s an antidote? Something that will cure the illness or at least remove the magical component of it so that modern medicine can do its job?” I worried that the disease might have progressed too far for modern medicine, but I refused to give up hope.
“If the formula was made and delivered in this part of the world, I can most certainly tell you who crafted it. But let me take a closer look, eh.”
Zoltan picked up the vial and walked to a microscope, a fancy modern one hooked up to a computer. He prepared something resembling a drugstore cotton swab, moistening the end with liquid from a dark bottle, and prodded around in the vial. How much residue would he find in there after it had spent weeks in Willard’s coffee-ground-strewn garbage disposal and then been carted around in my pocket?
I kept myself from pacing as he prepared a slide and examined it. Sindari, any update?
I haven’t been able to find Dimitri.
What? My fist clenched. If bringing him here got him killed, I’d have more blood on my hands—more guilt. Why hadn’t I ordered him to go back to the van and wait inside with the curtains drawn and the doors locked? Did he leave the carriage house?
I don’t believe so. His scent lingers here, but he is not in this loft or anywhere in this main room.
There was a trapdoor. Maybe he found it, went down, and got stuck like I did.
I will check.
“I can verify that the formula that existed in this vial is what the sigil says it should be.” Zoltan pointed at the open book. “I can also verify that a drop of the alchemist’s blood was used in the making, per the recipe. There are two types of DNA present in the sample.”
It was strange hearing a long-dead vampire talking about DNA. “Whose?” was all I asked.
“One belongs to a kraken, the other to a dark elf.”
“A kraken? Where does one find kraken blood, and aren’t krakens poisonous?”
“Venomous and very much so, yes. But not their blood. Their venom comes from their bite, from a venom gland in their mouths, the same as with a squid. Kraken venom is an excellent ingredient to work with. But exceedingly rare. If you come by any, do let me know. I will purchase it at market rate plus ten percent.”
My only familiarity with krakens came from mythology, so this notion that they not only existed but had a market rate was disturbing.
“Kraken blood also cannot be ordered online. It’s likely one has taken up residence nearby, and the blood was collected fresh.” Zoltan stepped away from the microscope.
“I hear Lake Washington is nice. All those fat harbor seals down by the Arboretum to munch on.”
He nodded. “A possible location, or out in Puget Sound. They traditionally prefer deep-sea waters to tumultuous surface waters, and saltwater to fresh, but they can exist for periods of time in fresh water.”
“Thank you for looking up the formula. Is there an antidote? And you said only one person around could have made it. Who?”
“A reversal of the formula could be constructed, something that would essentially clean out the residue in the afflicted person’s system. After that, you would also need a long-acting healing elixir to reverse the cellular damage. I could not guarantee that would be effective. If the disease is far along, it would be too late. One could make the elixir more potent with a drop of the victim’s blood.”
A return visit to the hospital, check.
“And to make the reversal formula, it would require the blood of the same kraken and of the dark-elf alchemist who made it.”
Ugh, I would need more than a visit to the hospital to find those.
“You would also need a highly trained and exceptional alchemist willing to create all this for you.” He smiled.
“Any chance that’s you? Or am I going to have to find this dark-elf alchemist—does he have a name?—and force him to do it at gunpoint?”
“I wouldn’t trust any formula that was made under duress. As to if I can do it, I am capable, but I would not wish to incur the wrath of the dark-elf clan living in the area. My simple home would be easy for them to breach, and I could not fight off many of their mages. Their magic is very strong.”
An entire clan? Great.
“But I would possibly risk their wrath if the price were right and if the alchemist—Synaru-van is her name—never learned of my involvement.”
“What’s your price?” My skin crawled as I imagined him demanding my blood—or for me to bring some of his followers here so he could enjoy their blood.
“You have lingering about you the aura of a dragon.”
The unexpected statement startled me. “He left his aura on me? Nasty.”
“Many of my ancient formulas require a drop of dragon blood. This has been hard to come by. For the longest time, there were no dragons left on Earth, not even as visitors. It seems that has changed.” He beamed his smile at me, not at my neck this time but at me. Or maybe at that crusty dragon aura lingering about me.
I vowed to take a bath later and scrub with my loofah and that high-powered pumice hand-cleaner that mechanics liked. I used it whenever I got an assignment’s blood on me, and I would slather myself from head-to-toe to get a dragon aura off.
“To sum up,” Zoltan said, “I will create both the reversal formula and the healing elixir for you, but I require a drop of Synaru-van’s blood, a drop of the blood of the kraken that she used, and, for my own payment, a vial of dragon blood.”
“A vial? Not just a drop?”
“I have many formulas that require a drop of dragon blood. Thus I need many drops.” He rubbed his cold hands together with hot glee.
“These aren’t the formulas that would allow you to take over the White House, are they?”
“Oh, no. I could do that simply by making followers. Please be honored that I’m not asking you to become one.”
“My neck and I are pleased. Is it because the dragon aura clinging to my skin makes my blood undesirable?”
“Not at all. The dragon aura would enhance the flavor and perhaps even give me increased vitality.”
I was definitely using the loofah later.
“It’s the powerful magical gun you haven’t stopped pointing at me that’s problematic.”
“I’m glad I brought it then.” I looked at his shelves. “Do you have some empty vials I can borrow? And, uh, syringes. I assume you don’t want the bloods to mingle.”
“Certainly not. I’ll prepare you a sample kit.”
“Do you have any idea where I can find this dark-elf alchemist?”
“In the tunnels beneath Seattle.”
I could have guessed that from what Willard had told me. “Is there a favorite entrance she uses when she goes out to shop for groceries and human sacrifices?”
“I doubt Synaru-van goes out. I do not know where their entrances are, but she didn’t find the kraken blood in a puddle under the freeway.”
I scratched my jaw. Meaning there was likely access somewhere near a large body of water? Unfortunately, that didn’t narrow things down much. Most of Seattle was within a mile or two of one significant body of water or another.
He’s not in the little room under the trapdoor, Sindari told me. And if you’ve ever tried to open a door with only paws and claws, you’ll thank me for my effort.
Where else could he have gone? Back to the van?
No. He’s still here. I smell him close. As if he’s under the floorboards.
“Zoltan, did you capture my chauffeur?”
“Your what?”
“A large man with some dwarfish blood in him.”
“Hm, not I. I was focused on you. It’s possible this house captured him. You may have noticed it’s haunted.”
I rubbed my face. “What?”
“Why do you think I chose this for my domicile? Its tenacity and will to continue existing have kept the human bulldozers away. I’ve watched all the large houses be installed around it.”
“The noise and progress haven’t bothered you?”
“Not at all. It’s made it easy to find sustenance. Though it’s unfortunate that a new family hasn’t moved into the nearest building yet.” He waved in the direction of the vacant house. “It was so handy to have warm blood so close at hand.”
“Shocking that they put the house up for sale.”
“My touch is light and comes in the dark of night. Nobody ever has anything but suspicions. Though I’m not so subtle with enemies.” He smiled at me, and I had a feeling it truly was only the gun that had kept him cooperative tonight. “Here are your vials and syringes.”
“Thanks. How do I get my friend out of the carriage house?” I pointed upward.
“Leave it an appropriate sacrifice.”
“Is that how all the junk got up there?”
“It is. The house has eclectic tastes.”