A Forbidden Alchemy (The Artisan Trilogy)

by Stacey McEwan

Ma used to say it was one thing to be down, and quite another to dig yourself a grave.

Her answer was instant, as were all her answers, as though she’d already thought of every question the world might demand and banked her thoughts on the matter.

I peered at him. “You don’t believe there’s a God?” Patrick chuckled, low and bitter. “Oh, I believe there’s a God,” he said. “But I’d spit in his hand before I shook it.”

“It isn’t your business to know who I love.” But I said it to the ground, where there was no brilliant blue. Beneath my skin, blood raced. Silence. Sounds suffocated on the hot air. Patrick waited an interminable moment, until it was impossible not to look at him again. “If it’s all the same to you,” he said, low and exact, “I’m inclined to make it my business.”