The firefighter’s eyes went wide. “Are we in danger?”
“Maybe,” Nick admitted.
“No,” Parker said immediately. “This one is different. It didn’t even try to spread.”
Nick frowned, looking down at the tight knot of spellwork that was all that was left of the woman’s arm. Inside the sphere sloshed blood and crushed bone, but Nick didn’t see any evidence of circles that might spread. He didn’t see any evidence of the customization necessary to spread the spell.
“How do you know it wasn’t trying to spread?” Nick asked, watching Parker’s face.
Parker’s intuition was rarely wrong; if he thought something, it was usually true, but in this case, Nick wasn’t sure. This whole situation raked across his nerves. Alchemy without an alchemist was more than impossible, but the idea of the alchemy itself as conscious, the idea that Parker could talk to it…
“It felt different. When I coaxed it into her arm, it went. If it was trying to kill someone, it would have killed us then.” Parker twisted his lips. “It seemed tired.”
“That lines up with this.” Nick pulled a pair of gloves out of his jacket and handed them over to Parker. After Parker put them on, he offered over the notepad.
The entire front of the yellow pad was covered in writing.
Stop. Stop. Stop. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I was made to hurt. I WAS MADE TO HURT. No. No. I am me. I am ME.
Normally, something like this would be evidence of severe mental instability, but Nick suspected the answer was actually sadder. Whatever consciousness the alchemy had, it hadn’twanted to hurt people. Hopefully, that meant it hadn’t spread to anyone here.
Parker flipped the pages and frowned. “Did you see this?”
He turned the pad so Nick could see a jagged spiral. There wasn’t anything else on the page, but the shape had been carved deeper than the words on the front.
“What do you think it means?” Nick asked.
“Did any of the alchemy have spirals in it?” Parker asked.
Nick shook his head. “No. Maybe it has to do with how the circles are going to eventually grow large enough to make contact with each other?”
“Maybe.” Parker dragged out the word. “But it feels like we’re one thousand pieces into a puzzle and just realizing we’re missing five hundred pieces. Every time we answer something, we have more questions.”
“King!” Zahide’s voice cut down the hallway, and Nick turned to her. She was glaring at him, and he raised a shoulder in a shrug. “This isn’t a coffee shop.”
Nick winced. “Nope. Parker had a hunch?—”
Her lips pressed together, as unimpressed as she could get. “What happened?”
Nick and Parker told their story, and Zahide came to the same conclusion that Nick had. “Everyone in the rooms is going to need to be checked.”
“Yep,” Nick said. “And anyone that was here yesterday, but if the employee got infected yesterday by Durkavic, then we at least know the time frame.”
“And we have some video evidence.” Parker pointed at the security camera in the ceiling.
“I’ll get on the video,” Avila called out. “And we’ll keep everyone in their rooms.”
“Yeah, I gotta— I’m going to go use the bathroom.” Parker had a look on his face that meant he was going to do somethinghe couldn’t tell anyone about, and he didn’t want to drag anyone else into trouble with him.
“I’m going with you,” Nick said grimly. Wherever Parker was going, it wasn’t the bathroom.
“No, no, I canpeeby myself.” Parker narrowed his eyes, tilting his head significantly. “Like, I’mveryable to urinate on my own.”
“Parker—” Nick raised his eyebrows. “I’m going with you.”
“Nick, I can wipe my own bottom. Did the sticker chart, earned the action figure?—”
“I know it is something to do with the fae,” Zahide interrupted, her face red. “Stop talking of pee and poop—you are not a little boy. Go. I will cover for you for half an hour.”
