by Becca Andre
“Maybe a descendant?”
“Maybe.”
James stepped around in front of her, his forehead wrinkling as his gaze fell to her shirt. The wounded look in his eyes tore through her worse than his claws had.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue with her. Instead, he dropped to his knees before her. He reached up and gripped the hem of her shirt, then lifted his eyes to hers.
“Don’t look,” he whispered.
“Why not? I don’t have Addie’s blood phobia.”
A small smile tried to curl his lips, but failed. “I don’t want you to see what I did.”
“James.”
He held her gaze.
“Okay. I won’t look.” She lifted her head and gazed across the room. Her old laptop computer was open, and she could see their reflections in the dark screen, though not with enough detail that she was violating his request.
He pushed up her shirt, and she reached down to hold it in place just below her breasts. She kept her eyes on the screen.
His warm breath brushed against the torn flesh of her stomach. Then his tongue made contact.
She inhaled, fighting the urge to cry out as his acrid saliva burned into the wound.
He hesitated.
“Keep going,” she breathed. “It stops hurting in a minute. Just burns like hell until then.”
His hands settled on her jeans-clad hips, and he went back to licking the raw flesh of her stomach. And just when she thought she would scream, the pain began to subside. Her tense muscles relaxed and she sighed.
“There,” she whispered. “The pain is gone.”
He didn’t acknowledge her verbally, but his hands slid around to the bare skin of her back. His warm breath felt cool against her damp skin. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her before pressing his cheek to her stomach.
She reached down and laced the fingers of one hand into his dark hair, combing her fingers through soft strands. He tipped his head forward, and she moved her fingers along his crown to the back of his neck. His embrace tightened but he didn’t lift his head.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“What if Ian is right? What are we going to do?” His words were as soft as her own.
“I don’t know.”
He leaned back to look up at her, the glow still visible in his green eyes. The glow she expected; she didn’t expect the unshed tears.
She dropped to her knees in front of him. Not knowing what to say, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. He sat down and pulled her closer.
“I don’t want to be the reason you…don’t survive,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes. “I don’t want that, either.”
“Maybe Doug would be the better choice.”
She pulled back. “What?”
“You were right. He’s not a bad guy.”
“Hades blood, give it a rest. There was never a choice to be made. Why can’t you get it through your head that there is no contest between the two of you? You’re the one I want, James Daniel Huntsman.”
He drew a breath through his teeth that was almost a growl. “Don’t do that.”
“What? Claim you?”
“Tighten the bond like that.”
“Why not?” She met his gaze and held it. “Here’s the thing. My gift is going to kill me no matter what I do. I’d rather go down in flames than go cower under my bed and slowly waste away.” She frowned. “Or is that the problem? When I perish, so do you.”
“And why can’t you get it through your head that I’m fine with a mortal existence?”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I want your mortal existence to be an entire lifetime, not just a few years.”
“And I would rather have a few years with you, than an entire lifetime with someone else.”
He bowed his head. “This is so screwed up.”
“Yes.” She waited, but he didn’t say anything else. “What are you thinking?”
He reached out and took her hand. “I don’t think we should be making these kinds of decisions right now. We haven’t had a chance to process everything we’ve learned. Not to mention, we haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours.”
“Sleeping on it isn’t going to change the facts.”
“No, but we’re more likely to find a solution with a well-rested mind.”
“A solution?” She tried to ignore the surge of hope the concept awakened.
“I’m not ready to admit defeat. Are you?”
“No. My magic has ruined enough of my life. I’m tired of it.”
“Well, then.” He climbed to his feet and offered her a hand. “Let’s prepare for battle.”
She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet.
He ran the back of one finger along her cheek, his claw brushing her skin, and she shivered.
“You like that I’m not completely human.”
“It turns me on,” she admitted.
“Twisted necromancer.”
“Yes.”
He leaned down and kissed her.
Chapter 18
James pulled on a T-shirt and heard the shower kick on down the hall. He tried not to think about Elysia stripping down and standing beneath the warm spray. If things had been different, she might have invited him to join her. But things were different. He had kissed her before sending her off to the shower, and even in that brief exchange, she had unwittingly fed her soul into him. He had told her they would find a solution, but he had no idea what that could possibly be.
Addie greeted him as soon as he stepped into the lab. “Where’s Elysia?”
“Shower.”
“Is she okay? You were able to heal her?”
“Yes.”
“What a shame you couldn’t do that for me. I was weeks healing.”
“I didn’t rip into her intestines or several any arteries.”
“I know. I was just whining.” She stopped in front of him, then reached up and laid a hand over his heart. “Are you okay?”
James glanced at where Ian stood watching them. Had he told Addie anything about Elysia’s magic? James’s gaze drifted to the framed picture Livie had given Ian. Specifically, the old 5x7 of Matilda’s two daughters, Bella’s sisters. Soul reapers both.
“I will be,” James said to Addie.
Addie didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t question him further.
Doug rose from the stool he had been sitting on. He wore an old-fashioned white shirt he must have borrowed from Ian. “You were able to remove Alexander’s influence?”
“Yes. A shame I didn’t realize I could do that. I could have done the same for you.”
Doug smiled. “Thanks, but your alchemy worked just fine.”
“His alchemy?” Addie asked.
“You and Ian were AWOL,” James explained. “I had to brew the solvent myself.”
“When Doug said he had taken the solvent, I thought he had taken the one I gave Elysia.”
“Neil confiscated her potions right off,” Doug said.
Addie gave James a frown. “But, how could you make my solvent? I use the azoth.”
“I had her finger. The one Alexander removed. I ashed it, along with a few hairs from my other form.”
“Soul solvent,” Ian said.
“How did you mark what you wanted to dissolve?” Addie asked.
“A hair from Ian’s brush. He and Alexander are identical twins.”
Addie gave Ian a glance, arching a brow before turning to James. “Dark, but brilliant. You’re going to be an amazing alchemist.”
“I had an amazing teacher.”
She laughed and hugged him.
“I’m not going to ask for clarification on any of that,” Doug muttered.
“Always the best course of action,” Era agreed in an undertone.
Addie released James. “If you know what Alexander looks like, I’m guessing Neil gave him the Formula.”
“Yes.”
“And Neil?” Addie asked.
“Neil took it, too,” James said. “He’s a necromancer now.”
“He’s a lich king,” Doug said.
“He’s Alexander’s sidekick,” James said.
“What does this mean?” Addie asked. “Where does this leave Old Magic?” She turned to Doug. “What of your father?”
“He will be Made.” He held up a hand at her horrified expression. “Don’t let it trouble you, he’s fine with that. He expected it as his reward all along.”
Addie frowned. “And what of you?”
“I wasn’t that comfortable with it.”
“So, I guess you’re no longer the heir of death.”
“Not anymore.” Doug looked up, his eyes meeting Ian’s. “I’m just another necromancer booted out of the Family.”
Afterword
Thank you for reading The Heir of Death. I hope you enjoyed it. If you liked it well enough to leave a review; that would be great! There’s more to come in The Final Formula Series. If you want me to notify you when I have a new release, all you need to do is subscribe to my newsletter at http://beccaandre.com. As an added bonus, you’ll also receive an alternate POV scene from one of my novels when you sign up.
Acknowledgements
It’s time again to thank all folks who help me make my stories better. I’d to thank:
Kendra Highley, Lindsay Buroker, and Cindy Wilkinson for taking the time to pick out my typos and letting me know what worked and what didn’t.
Shelley Holloway for another great editing experience.
Glendon Haddix and the team at Streetlight Graphics for the always beautiful cover art and formatting. (Check out my gorgeous website. They did that, too!)
And you, kind reader, for letting me entertain you. I really appreciate the reviews, comments, and emails. Thank you!
About the Author
Becca Andre lives in southern Ohio with her husband, two children, and an elderly Jack Russell Terrier. A love of science and math (yes, she’s weird like that), led to a career as a chemist where she blows things up far more infrequently than you’d expect. Other interests include: chocolate, hard rock, and slaying things on the Xbox. She also finds writing about herself in third person a bit strange.
For more on the world of the Final Formula, upcoming releases, and random ramblings, stop by http://beccaandre.com
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