And that heart was bleeding.
“No.” Nick shook his head. “Before we go there, before we do anything else, we’re going to find a different way to fix this. One that leaves everyone with all their limbs.”
Parker looked up, and the expression on his face was filled with hope because Nick never said something if he couldn’t do it. He had to know how. So now Nick needed to figure outhow.
“Hey, guys?” Bastian stood in the doorway, a limp, dead plant in his hands. “Do you have time to help me?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bastian had been staying over moreand more often, and part of Nick was hoping that someday they would be able to make it permanent.
He saw how Parker was with him. Parker was gentle, kind. Nick still remembered the terrifying feeling during the final battle with Sun, when he’d known that Bastian’s light had gone out, that he was dead. Being able to see him let Nick breathe a little easier.
Also, he could see Parker getting attached, Parker loving Bastian like he loved Laurel and Sugar. Whenever Parker had to step up, be a parent, it was like watching Parker be allowed to fix part of his childhood, as though Parker got to go back in time and make his own life better.
Nick squinted at the plant, then looked up at Bastian. Neither Parker nor Bastian would ever let a plant suffer like the one in Bastian’s hands was. It was dried out, desiccated, its leaves thinner than paper.
“What happened?” he asked in confusion.
“I maybe, kind of, stole a plant.” Bastian ended on a mutter, his voice going to practically nothing.
“You maybe, kind of, stole a plant.” Parker’s sentence sounded like it should have a question mark at the end, but his voice was flat. “From where?”
Nick knew Parker couldn’t actually be mad about the stealing of plants. He found Parker all the time with plants, rocks, sometimes even odd liquids in unlabeled jars. He knew Parker hadn’t purchased any of those.
No, it was something else that Parker was pinging to. He stepped back, yielding the conversation to Parker.
“It was at Wendy’s house. I think he belongs to her mom. But her mom is never home, and the maid doesn’t pay any attention to it. So it was just dying. I mean, itisdead.” Bastian stuttered to a stop, staring down at the small plant in his hands.
He was more upset than Nick had seen him recently, his mouth opening and closing before he finally shook his head. “I know it’s dead. But… it hurts. Can we save it?”
Parker blinked, tilting his head. He exhaled a long breath, and then his eyes crinkled. “If you save it, then you’re taking on the responsibility. It can be a burden. Do you understand?”
Nick wasn’t sure what Parker was talking about. He often saw Parker with handfuls of dead leaves, fine powders that had once been rocks.
But Bastian seemed to know exactly what Parker meant, his face going firm. “I get it. I’ll be taking responsibility for it.”
“Yes.” Parker nodded. “You’ll be taking responsibility for it, and it will be yours. But that means you also belong to it.”
Nick wondered if that was how Parker thought of his bag of plants and rocks, the unlabeled jars filled with powders and liquids. Part of Nick had always assumed Parker thought of them like tools. No matter how much he talked to them, no matter how affectionate he sounded, he always used them as needed. But right now, Parker was practically saying,If you bring ithome, you’re going to have to walk it every day and pick up all of its poop.
Or… No. Nick wasn’t entirely sure what Parker was saying, but something in Bastian’s face tightened. He nodded.
“Okay. Sit over here with me.” Parker crouched down on the floor, getting into an awkward cross-legged position. He and Bastian both stared at the plant, speaking in low voices.
Nick didn’t quite tune them out, but he turned back to the map he and Parker had been looking at. It felt like he was missing something, but he couldn’t quite figure outwhat. There was something so familiar about the shape, about the case, about everything.
Why alchemy? Or, if Parker was right and it wasn’t alchemy at all, why did itlooklike alchemy?
“It feels dead,” Bastian said hopelessly.
“No it doesn’t,” Parker corrected. “You can feel the part of it that called to you. The part of it that changed your mind, made you want to bring it home.Thatpart is still alive.”
Nick froze, his mind doing some quick calculations. Parker thought the parasite preferred to jump right before it died. If it didn’t have a host for too long, it would die. Meaning, potentially, if they convince the alchemy parasite that its victim was dead, it would jump toward a new host.
He shook his head, trying to make it make sense.
If they could find a new victim, clear the room, make sure no one else was nearby, then they might be able to convince it to try and jump onto Parker or Nick. But if Parker and Nick had defenses up, the alchemy would effectively be neutralized.
