Read The Blood Alchemist (The Final Formula Series, Book 2) for Free Online Page B

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    A hand gripped my arm and I jumped in surprise.
    “Looks like you made the front page.”
    I looked up into Henry Huntsman’s sneering face. A scruff of blond beard covered his chin, hiding any resemblance he had to his brother James.
    “You’re famous, Amelia.”
    I guess that answered whether the article had named me. I’d gone by the name of Amelia Daulton while at the Alchemica—though I remembered none of it.
    Henry used his grip on my arm to pull me against him, poking something in my ribs.
    “A gun?” I whispered. “You brought a gun into a hospital?”
    “Don’t do anything stupid.”
    “No problem. You’ve got that covered.”
    The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. With something close to a growl, Henry shoved me forward—right into another camo-swathed chest.
    I stumbled away and thumped my back against the wall of the elevator.
    George, the eldest of the Huntsman brothers, watched me through narrowed eyes. The collision hadn’t budged him.
    I pushed off the wall and tugged my jacket straight. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your charming company?”
    “You can tell us where our brother is.” George leaned close, trying to intimidate me with his size. He spent more time with his weights than anything else, and he had the body to prove it. Not overly tall, he made up for what he lacked vertically in bulk. That might cower some people, but muscle intimidated me far less than a quick mind.
    Henry stepped into the elevator with us and the door slid closed.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Did your necro buddy renege on the deal?” The last I’d seen of the Huntsman boys, they’d been working with Neil, a necromancer and former colleague from my Alchemica days. “Let me guess, he offered you the Final Formula in exchange for James.”
    “The final what?” Henry demanded.
    “The Elixir of Life.” George caught both my shoulders and pushed me back against the wall. Like Henry, his face hadn’t seen a razor in a few weeks. “What do you know of that?”
    I frowned at George’s question. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been in the room when Neil forced me to recite the Formula.
    “It just seemed like something he would offer.” I considered the potion vial I had tucked in my pocket. It would work well in this small space. Unfortunately, it would work just as well on me. I’d bide my time. Meanwhile, maybe I could figure out what these idiots were up to.
    “What do you want from me?” I asked.
    “Why is our brother always with that Element?” George’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Did you give James to him?”
    “James doesn’t belong to me. He doesn’t belong to anyone.”
    Henry snorted, and George glanced over at him, a faint curl to his lips.
    “That includes you guys,” I added.
    They didn’t get a chance to respond as the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open, revealing the busy first-floor lobby.
    George captured my upper arm in his too tight grip. “Come on.”
    “You don’t have to manhandle me. I’m coming.”
    He didn’t release my arm, but I didn’t protest. This wasn’t a good place to make a scene. Of course, being dragged around by two good-sized guys in camo didn’t make for a discreet departure. Every head in the lobby turned to stare at us. It didn’t help that my image currently graced the front page of the Cincinnati Enquirer .
    We hit the exterior door and a wet wind slapped me in the face. The storm had picked up strength while I was inside. I threw up an arm to shield my eyes, stumbling against George before I righted myself.
    “Knock it off, alchemist.” His growl wasn’t a bad imitation of James’s.
    “Hey, there she is!”
    I followed the sound and discovered the remnants of the rain-soaked protesters staring at us.
    “It’s the alchemist!” another shouted.
    A handful of people arriving and leaving the hospital stopped to stare.
    “Thanks a lot,” I muttered to George.
    “Keep moving.” He jerked my arm again.