Page 62 of Adam, Mine

Bradley produced a ring of keys from his jacket and opened the door, pushing Victor inside.

Expecting another gory display, Victor flinched before Bradley turned the lights on. But he was surprised to find that the lab of the Alchemist of Lives was much more like the one they had at school.

The walls were lined with shelves filled with oddities. Mostly types of rock and vats of soil, labeled with the year, location, and two numbers. He had a large steel table, a comparably sized wood table, and a patient table. Unlike Alain’s it was clean, covered in a white sheet, and had gloves at the ready. The restraints were lined in fur and not designed to hurt the patient. It even smelled nice in here, like rain on stone with disinfectant.

Bradley grunted at Victor’s expression.

“I assume you’ve seen Alain’s workshop? A mess.” He grumbled. “He held a dinner party in there once that I severely regret attending.”

Victor was still shaken, but he had to ask. “Do you all know each other?”

Bradley was pouring Victor’s blood out onto a cast-iron pan. He lit a fire beneath it and began stirring.

“Not always. There are about four hundred of us round the world, one hundred fifty apprentices, and about two thousand trusted afficionados. These come in the form of men like Fitz and Jaan Sauer. People who serve some sort of purpose but do not actually practice nor have any desire to.” Bradley looked over his shoulder at Victor, who was still standing by the entrance.

“We network, largely to seek rare items or ingredients,” Bradley continued. “There are also the parties.”

Victor walked around the room, looking at everything a bit closer while Bradley worked. Alain had impressed him at first, but after meeting Bradley, Victor wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted what Alain had anymore. This was much better and he felt more comfortable here.

Bradley took Victor’s blood, reduced to a thick syrup, and pulled out a fresh jar of soil. He poured the steaming fluid into the dirt and stirred it quickly, topping it with a cork.

“The only way to store blood for my work is in earth,” Bradley murmured. “Though that might not be useful information for you. Have you decided on your specialty yet? They won’t let you work with me and Alain, you know. Too tempting.”

That was exactly what Alain had said.

Victor shrugged. “I’m a son of a doctor. I always intended to be a doctor of some kind.”

Bradley snorted. “Willem turned you down, then.”

Victor nodded, face reddening.

“He would. He’s a good man, too good for you.”

“I’m trying to be better,” Victor said, and he meant it.

Bradley looked him up and down. “You might pivot to religious work. Dig into pleading to God for forgiveness.”

Victor grimaced.

Then, without warning, a pain erupted in his chest. Victor leaned over gasping, clutching the table.

Bradley watched him curiously. Not moving to help him or even ask if he was all right.

Victor crashed to his knees, holding his heart and panting. It felt how it did when Willem had worked on him but to a lesser extent. With a jolt of terror, he wondered if Willem hadn’t widened the path enough and he was about to be torn apart.

Then Victor felt a rush of something, emotions that weren’t his: fury and deep satisfaction, followed by the slightest bit of pain and self-loathing.

Victor didn’t feel his emotions like this. He felt his anger at the top of his head; this was an anger of the gut. His loathing usually choked him in his throat, but this loathing centered around his heart. His satisfaction normally dug its claws into his loins, but this made him feel it behind his teeth.

“Oh, it’s starting, then,” Bradley commented, leaning over to peer at Victor.

Victor panted and looked up at Bradley, wordless. His own terror, the emotions that belonged to him, were losing the fight against these other feelings. He felt almost like he was about to black out.

Bradley sighed. “Curse my tender heart,” he muttered, then crossed the room. Victor leaned his head against the stone beneath him and let his eyes roll back, drooling with overstimulation. His nervous system buzzed with unearned adrenaline.

He heard Bradley’s shoes before he saw them. Oxblood brogues that stopped before him. Bradley dug his fingers into Victor’s hair and yanked until they were eye to eye. Then he opened Victor’s mouth and shoved something inside.

“Don’t swallow.”