Page 20 of Victorious

3 HOURS LATER

GEORGE Ardley had egregious taste in music.

“It helps me think,” said the chemist, as the pop blared from his phone.

Victor watched him, flexing his fingers as he did.

Two hours ago, his skin had begun to prickle, the first sign that the dose was beginning to wear off, his powers coming back online. Now, as the drug’s effects waned, he could feel not only his own nerves, but Ardley’s, the circuitry of the other man, so bright it almost glowed.

The effect was … bittersweet.

Like coming up for air, knowing you’ll have to force yourself back under.

Another hour, and the pain would start, a twinge in Victor’s chest that would quickly become a cramp, electrical signals coiling around his heart, a precursor to the inevitable cardiac arrest.

But for the moment, as he turned the dial of his senses up and down, he felt almost as if he’d been made whole again.

“Victor?”

His head jerked up at the mention of his name. Ahead of him, the chemist was still working. The voice had come from behind him. He looked over his shoulder and caught the edge of a strawberry curl disappearing between glass shelves.

Victor’s chest tightened.

“Hey, Vale,” it called, in a singsong voice he hadn’t heard in years. Fifteen, to be exact.

I’ll never forgive you, she’d said, as he lay down on the metal table.

Victor clenched his teeth. It wasn’t real. She wasn’t—

“Okay, man.”

Victor’s attention snapped back to the chemist as Ardley set three small vials on the counter and slumped beside them.

Victor frowned. “That’s all?”

“Hey,” snapped the chemist. “These ingredients aren’t exactly standard order. I made what I could, with the supplies I had.”

Ardley’s eyes flicked nervously between the compound and Victor as he lifted a vial, studying the luminescent blue liquid. It looked right. But that didn’t mean it was. He slotted it into the inhaler, set the device on the counter, and slid it forward.

“Try it.”

The chemist paled. “What? Wait, no, that wasn’t—”

“If you made it right, it won’t hurt you.”

Victor wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but it was a chance he was willing to take.

Apparently, George Ardley wasn’t.

“No way,” the chemist said, shaking his head.

Victor tipped his head. “I’m not asking.”

He had returned the gun to his coat. He didn’t reach for it now, didn’t need to. He simply twitched his fingers, tugging on the chemist’s nerves. The effect was subtle, subtle enough he might have mistaken the discomfort as his own, if he hadn’t seen Victor’s hand move.

Ardley flinched back. Hesitated.

Victor turned the dial up. Pain flashed across the chemist’s face, along with confusion. But he took up the device and brought it to his lips. He closed his eyes, and inhaled. When he didn’t collapse, or begin bleeding from every orifice, he sagged in relief. “There. Okay?” With shaking hands, he set the device back on the counter.