Page 34 of A Drop of Anguish
I shrug, feigning like I don’t care. But I do. This Jarron is very different from the Jarron I know. The one who is open and sweet. Who showed me around every inch of Elite Hall and spent time in the library and in the sunroom chatting with his group of friends. He was never overly social, but he wasn’t a recluse like he seems to be now.
“I’ve heard Trevor used to throw parties in his room weekly, but Jarron has not picked up that mantel, so far as I can tell. But anyway, my point is, I don’t think Jarron’s giving himself much opportunity to see what’s actually happening at the school.”
I shrug.
“Let me ask you this. If you told him, what do you think he’d do?”
I slip on a set of gloves and begin the process of scooping the steaming red liquid into the large vials. “I think he’d put the wolves in their place before I could even blink.” I recall the time he strung up a wolf for making an offhanded comment about taking a bite.
“Exactly.” He nods sharply. “So, the only reason you’re not saying something is your pride. Is your safety and well-being really more important than your pride?”
I bite the inside of my lip. The large vial holds nearly four ounces of liquid. Too much. Other than the fact that the potion will require most of this liquid to hit skin to have much of an effect, the larger vials also tend to be harder to break. It won’t be ideal in a fight.
“I think I should invent a potion water gun,” I mutter.
Thompson smirks. “I think witches have tried that.”
“I’m sure they have. But most witches are not the battling type, so it’s never been a large priority for them.” Most fighting supernaturals have different sorts of magic to rely on. Potions are generally for less immediate needs.
“It’s nearly impossible to create a gun that won’t leak in some form or another, or with a material that won’t affect the potion.”
Hmmm, true.
“Paintballs have been theorized, but so far as I know, nothing has worked well yet. Besides, the potions would have to be incredibly small doses.”
Thompson stands and approaches my potion.
“This is a stunning potion, right?”
I nod.
“Using thread of torrent?”
I nod again.
He chuckles. “Couldn’t you just buy a stun gun and call it a day?”
I roll my eyes, although he does have a small, very shortsighted point. This potion may be subpar to a stun gun, but I’m still learning. As of now, it will cause pain and shock, hopefully enough to put someone down, just like a stun gun—assuming I can get all of the liquid onto the target. Once I get it right, though, a solid stunning potion could put a supernatural down way longer than a stun gun.
A stun gun also won’t work on all supernaturals. I didn’t begin brewing these potions with wolves in mind. I was more concerned about High Orizians—AKA demons from the royal line.
The nullifier worked well at sucking magic from Mr. Vandozer, but he was still physically stronger than me.
Once I perfect the recipe and give it the time it needs to condense properly, I’ll have something I can use to put down Mr. Vandozer in one hit. At least, long enough to put a dagger through his heart.
A stun gun could never.
“Do you have access to a double vial?” Thompson asks.
My brow furrows. “I’m not sure. But I could get one from my parents if needed. Why?”
“Try to find a recipe for a stunning spell or something similar that uses amiximide instead. You’ll also need an expelling potion. Put those two on opposite sides of a double vial. Shake, and toss.”
If he’s saying what I think he’s saying, it would create a tiny stunning spell bomb. “That will really work?”
He nods. “It’s a signature of my pack. We don’t use them to throw, but we create land mines all around our territory. Enemy wolves find quite the shock if they overstep. They hate it, and us by extension. But it’s better than the alternative. Don’t tell anyone else about it, though. If our enemies figured out what we use, they’d be able to find a way to neutralize our mines.”
I blink. “Why use not actual mines, then?” A real explosion would work better than a stunning potion.
