Twenty-Eight

Dorian stomped across the tiled kitchen floor. “How could you do it? How could you let him stay here?”

Percy had gone to a restaurant for lunch, so Dorian and I were alone in the house. As tasty as Dorian’s pastries were, Percy had insisted there was no way he would eat a vegan lunch. Dorian and I were in the kitchen with the curtains drawn, as always. I was making a summer salad with a bounty from the backyard garden that Brixton had been keeping up, and Dorian was slicing freshly baked French bread for sandwiches.

“You keep talking about the perfection of Julian Lake’s kitchen,” I said, “and the delicacies he’ll order for you. Why don’t you stay there for a few days—and take your book with you. I want to keep Percy close and the book far away.”

“Je ne comprend pas. Do you or do you not trust him?”

“I haven’t yet made up my mind. But he’s a backward alchemist. We need the information he can give us.”

“You do not need to pretend with me, Zoe. I heard every word. I know there is no hope. I will not stand for the sacrifice of an innocent to save me.”

“We don’t know that’s the only way.”

Dorian didn’t answer. Instead, he selected a paprika-infused sea salt and handed it to me. “This one will be good with the salad.”

Though I’m not the cook Dorian is, I’ve always been intrigued by how salt can bring out the flavors of the simplest foods. Unlike some unnecessary culinary flourishes, salt fulfills a body’s basic needs. Throughout history, salt has played an important role in society and culture because of how essential it is for the body. It’s why salt, along with sulfur and mercury, is one of the three essentials in alchemy. In that tria prima, salt represents the body, and is the child of sulfur and mercury.

As Dorian skillfully tossed a salad using only one hand, my phone buzzed. It was a text message from Brixton, asking if Dorian could prepare a feast for two dozen people—tonight. I called Brixton back to tell him it was bad timing. To my surprise, he picked up his phone.

“I got your message, Brix, but that’s awfully short notice. We can’t just—”

“Blue’s home,” he said. “She’s out of jail.”

I could hear the joy in his voice. It was so innocent and blissful that I nearly forgot the tragedies swirling around me. “That’s wonderful. I didn’t know she was being released so soon.”

“She didn’t want to tell any of us in advance. I guess she didn’t really believe it was going to happen, until she was actually out. Isn’t it wicked awesome news? Especially with Mom so upset about her dad maybe being dead. Blue’s sure to cheer her up. Have you noticed she has a way of doing that?”

I smiled even though neither the teenager on the other end of the line nor the gargoyle absorbed in his cooking could see me.

“She definitely does have a way about her,” I agreed.

“She showed up at her cottage today. Mom and Abel thought having a welcome home party for all of her friends would be even better than keeping her to ourselves. Is Dorian there? Can I talk to him?”

“He’s busy. But I’m sure he’d be happy to cook.”

“I am not busy,” Dorian called out behind me. He hopped down from his stepping stool and snatched the phone from me. “Allo? Oui. Oui.” He nodded thoughtfully. “This is a superb idea. If only Zoe had not banished me from my home—”

“I didn’t banish you.” I tried to grab the phone back. Dorian shushed me and scurried away. “I’ll keep Percy out of the house this afternoon, so you can cook before you move into Julian Lake’s house for a few days.”

“Merci.” He handed the phone back to me.

“I’ll make sure Dorian has everything he needs to cook,” I told Brixton, “then bring the food to the teashop tonight.”

“Cool. This is going to be wicked.”

“You’re going to be with Blue and your parents the whole afternoon, right?”

I swear I could hear the sound of his eyes rolling. “Sure, probably.”

“I’m serious. There’s a killer—”

“No, there’s not. Those cops told me I was wrong and the guy had been there for years. That’s why they think my grandfather—”

“I know. I’m sorry, Brix. But the man you saw spying on Ivan is a very dangerous man. I don’t know what he has to do with the man who was found, but he’s killed before.”

A pause came from the other end of the line, then a swear word I chose to ignore. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. You need to stay far away from him. Don’t go anywhere on your own.”

After I hung up the phone, I had to figure out how to keep Percy out of the house all day. He was expecting me to pick him up in a little over an hour, so I had time to figure it out.

I drove to the market to get the ingredients on Dorian’s shopping list. Usually I walked to local shops or farmer’s markets every few days, to supplement the vegetables from the garden and the staples in the pantry, but today I was both in a hurry and needed to buy in bulk. After surviving the fluorescent lights at the supermarket, I dropped off four bags of groceries with Dorian. I was about to head back out to pick up Percy, but Dorian stopped me as he looked through the sacks of food.

“Where is the garlic?” he asked.

“We already have plenty of garlic.” I pointed to four heads of garlic, Purple Stripe hardneck, and Western Rose softneck.

Dorian narrowed his black eyes. “I need more for this tomato sauce recipe.”

“Are you sure garlic pasta is the way to go for a party?”

He chuckled. “If everyone eats the garlic, they will not mind.”

“Remind me to pick some parsley from the backyard to mute the effects.”

“Garlic will welcome your friend home with luck.”

I paused at the swinging kitchen door. “I didn’t realize you were superstitious.”

He clicked his tongue. “Not superstitious. Food has cultural significance, as you of all people should understand. It feeds both the body and the soul. Everything I am creating for tonight will welcome Blue Sky home.”

I leaned in the door frame and looked over the left half of Dorian’s body that was rapidly turning to stone. He didn’t dwell on his limitations. “Thank you. That’s so thoughtful.”

Dorian waved off the comment, and moved his stepping stool to unpack the last bag of groceries. The simple task took longer than usual, since he could only use his right arm to lift the stool.

“I can help when I get back,” I said.

“It is unnecessary. I have selected recipes that only require the use of one good arm.” Dorian said the words casually, but he didn’t look at me. He peered into the grocery bag containing the first tomatoes of the season and shook his head. “I will make do,” he muttered, dismissing me with a wave of his clawed hand.

I smiled and left Dorian to the feast preparations. I did a quick walk-through of the house, making sure it was tightly secured and thinking about how different my life had been six months ago. I used to eat for healing and nourishment, with pleasure coming in last on my list of priorities. Since Dorian had come into my life, he’d shown me that delectable foods didn’t have to be unhealthy. Which was an accidental discovery.

When Dorian showed up on my doorstep—or, in a moving crate in my living room, to be more accurate—he learned I didn’t keep bacon, butter, or cream in the house. Dorian respected my eating habits, but he refused to eat the same “boring” food I ate. I used my flavored oils, salts, and vinegars to season simple soups, stews, and salads, but in cooking with what I had on hand, he showed me how easy it was to turn simple meals into mouthwatering feasts.

I knew why I was thinking so much about food. I was starving. I’d been feeling so anxious I hadn’t stopped to take care of myself. I knew better than to disregard my body. I stuck my head back into the kitchen to grab a snack to take with me. The thoughtful gargoyle was one step ahead of me. He handed me a toasted baguette sandwich wrapped in parchment paper.

My friend and I were so alike but also worlds apart.

And that gave me the perfect idea for what to do with Percy. I slipped up to the attic before leaving the house.

I picked up Percy from a local brewery where he was enjoying an extended lunch accompanied by beer and a pretty young woman. She wasn’t happy to see me, but she perked up when Percy whispered something in her ear before paying the bill.

“Not too worried about Lucien after all?” I said once we were on the sidewalk.

“I was in a darkened back booth, so I knew I’d see him before he saw me.”

I led Percy to the truck. My myrrh air freshener was no match for the scent of batch brewed beer that had ensconced itself in Percy’s clothing.

“I thought you lived in the other direction,” he said as I pulled onto the highway.

“I need the house to myself to cook for a good friend’s welcome home party tonight, so I’ve got another idea—”

Percy gaped at me. “I’m dying and you’re having a party?”

The words bristled. Percy was in much better shape than Dorian. And one of the lessons I’d learned after being alive for so long was that you need to slow down and enjoy the small moments in life. Not only did they make existence more meaningful, but they helped you see things more clearly. I was going to give myself this evening to celebrate life with Blue, Brixton, and Max. I didn’t know what would happen the next day, but time with them tonight was a gift I could give all of us.

“I’m going to help you help yourself,” I said. “I found the photocopied pages of that book we were talking about.” I pointed to my purse that lay at Percy’s feet. He lunged for it and greedily scooped up the pages.

“You have it,” he said. “You have it! Where did you find these?”

“I used to do a lot of research. I found those pages years ago. You’re the one who’s the backward alchemist. I’m going to leave you at a library.”

“A library? Zoe, are you serious? I can stay out of the way at your house.”

“I need to concentrate, and so do you. You can read these pages and see what they tell you.”

“But—”

“I’ll pick you up in four hours. You can come to the party with me.”

“Can we have dinner first?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m going home to cook for the party.”

“But you’re cooking vegan food.”

Family.