Descendant (Secrets of the Makai) Read Online Free Page A

workspace with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything on shelves. "People will die."
    "Gram?"
    "Among others."
    A prickly power in the room stabbed at Dorian's skin, fueling her anger more than fear. She couldn't stand it anymore. She had to know. "You've already killed thousands, what's a few more?"
    He stopped walking and turned to face her. "To you, or me?"
    Dorian gritted her teeth and snatched a basket. "I'll need supplies from the front."
    The man stepped aside as she stormed by. All of the plants on shelves wanted to be part of the cure now, if it meant getting revenge. She selected the most aggressive items, giving silent permission for them to run as wild as they wished.
    The man didn't question her selection of materials when she started chopping. She glanced at Gram—a sleeping statue. Could Oliver wield that kind of power? Not likely.
    "Would you…?" What was she thinking? He was the one in a hurry, not her. "Forget it."
    "If I can be of service, I'm more than willing to speed things up."
    "Great." People could be so stupid. "I need boiling water. You can use that." She pointed the tip of her knife at a glass pot, still drying upside down in the dish drainer.
    The man filled the pot and had the water at a raging boil before he set it on the workspace. Dorian noticed dried blood staining his hands. "Occupational hazard?"
    "I suppose."
    Her gaze traveled up the sleeve of his jacket and across to his crisp white shirt. "Armani?" The word popped out before she could stop it. The man cocked an eyebrow and turned to the sink to wash his hands.
    Dorian clenched her jaw tighter and transferred the mix of chopped leaves into a silk pouch. She then hooked the pouch on the end of a spoon and suspended it in the steam.
    "I didn't think you'd ever been off the island."
    "Go to Hell." Dorian dumped the leaves into a glass bowl of oils and extracts, then slipped protective gloves on as she studied the last vial. Urushiol, oleandrin, and mezerin—and a fourth ingredient she couldn't identify, not even by aid of the plants. The oil substance had come from a woman whose father was an African witchdoctor, one who would only teach a son the ways of medicine. It was an oil that could melt through cartilage and cauterize damaged cells at the same time.
    The first drop from the vial made a circle of thready yellow smoke when it hit the paste. The vapors hovered a few inches before settling. The second added a thin slick of orange silt, breaking down the steamed leaves with sizzling hisses.
    "How does it work?" the man asked, drying the nape of his neck with one of Gram's favorite towels.
    Dorian opened her mouth to give the standard rundown, then promptly shut it when she remembered what the man had done to her spring. Deliberately. She took off the gloves. "Did you poison yourself when you poisoned the stream?"
    The man said nothing.
    The plants still couldn't confirm whether this man was the one or not.
    Dorian drizzled a spoonful of the cooling water into the bowl and retrieved a jar from under the workspace, matching it with a waxed cork to keep it sealed. "Mix it half and half with water until—" Until his skin festered in blisters? This was supposed to be an antidote.
    "Is he to drink it? How long before it works?"
    Only the first layer of skin would go, maybe the second, but she couldn't go through with it if it wasn't for him personally. She scooped the contents of the bowl with the spoon and flung it to the floor, then doused the inky black vapor with the last of the water.
    The man yanked her wrist and the glass pot fell, shattering when it hit the floor. He pinned her against the wall with his arm at her throat before she could get her other hand up to protect herself. So much for all the self-defense training.
    "I swear to you, Dorian. I'll incinerate every living thing above and below ground within a hundred miles if you don't give me that antidote."
    "How do you know my name?" What else did he know? Did