The Alchemist's Flame

by Andre, Becca

  Elysia paled.

  “Try it and you’ll deal with me,” I said.

  Doug’s dimples made their first appearance. “Good, I’m glad she has you in her corner, but why haven’t you healed her?”

  “Neil added a little something extra to this one, but I’ll get it.”

  Doug didn’t look convinced. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of miracle worker.”

  “I’ve known of Elysia’s problem barely twenty-four hours, and I’m a bit busy dealing with the fallout from your last interaction with Neil.” I waved a hand toward Albright’s door.

  Doug frowned, his gaze shifting in that direction, and then his bright blue eyes turned white.

  I had a vial in my hand in an instant. “I swear to God, you animate him and I’ll—”

  Elysia captured my wrist. “Addie, don’t.”

  Doug’s eyes reverted to blue as his attention returned to me. “Calm yourself, alchemist, I was only looking.” His gaze shifted to Elysia. “He’s been soul ripped.”

  “Neil was here right before we found him,” Elysia said.

  “His grim.”

  “Gavin,” she supplied the name.

  Doug rubbed a hand down his face.

  “Douglas?” Xander called from the doorway.

  All three of us jumped like guilty children. Xander stepped into the hall, and a moment later, Rowan followed him. They both still had their hoods up.

  “I had intended for you to give the body a more physical examination,” Xander continued, walking out to join us.

  “Yes, of course,” Doug agreed. He walked toward his father.

  Xander’s shadowed face turned in our direction. “Who’s this?”

  “I believe we’ve been introduced,” I said.

  “Not you, alchemist. God knows, I could never forget you.”

  “Thank you, Deacon. I feel so special.”

  Elysia stepped forward and I knew what was coming.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Deacon,” she said, her tone cool. “I’m Elysia Mallory.”

  Xander turned to fully face her.

  “Yes, one of those Mallorys,” she continued. “I’ve been meaning to meet with you. I don’t appreciate you opening those funeral parlors in our hometown.”

  Xander snorted, his hooded head turning toward Rowan before facing her once more. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I bit back a laugh. I was starting to see why James didn’t mind being bound to her.

  Xander’s silence spoke volumes. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  Elysia crossed her arms. “They’re Nelson funeral homes.”

  “You’re certain?” Rowan asked Elysia.

  “Quite.”

  “My dear Miss Mallory,” Xander said, his tone oily smooth, “unlike your own family, the Nelson Family is extensive. I can hardly be aware of every funeral home that is bought and sold in the tri-state area.”

  “I thought all your homes fell under the same LLC,” Rowan said.

  “I do have some cousins who live outside the metropolitan area.” Xander waved a hand dismissing the matter. “Don’t trouble yourself, Your Grace. This is an Old Magic issue. Besides, Miss Mallory’s family has the unfortunate curse of early insanity. This isn’t the first accusation I’ve heard from them.”

  “But if Miss Mallory’s concern is legitimate and violates a long-held understanding—”

  “I can take care of it.” Xander faced his son. “Douglas, the body.” He waved a hand toward Albright’s office door.

  A final glance at Elysia, and Doug hurried down the hall and disappeared inside.

  “As for you, Miss Mallory,” Xander said, “if you have any more complaints, please address them to the office of the Deacon. You’ll find that much more effective than slinging insults in public.” He turned and walked toward Rowan. “Let us see what my son can discover for you.”

  Rowan looked in our direction, then wordlessly followed Xander inside.

  I shoved the vial I still held back in its pocket. “That man makes my skin crawl.”

  “Oh God,” Elysia whispered, “what did I do?”

  “Well, I thought it was brilliant.”

  She stared at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “The powerful don’t intimidate you at all.”

  “I see no reason why they should. Besides, Xander is a conceited asshole. I’d love to take him down a few pegs, but Rowan won’t let me.”

  Elysia stared at me. “Yeah, definitely not intimidated.”

  I shrugged. “The Deacon’s heir doesn’t intimidate you. What’s the story there?”

  “I was engaged to him at one time.”

  “Yet you didn’t know his father?”

  “I’m a Mallory. As you saw, his father has a low opinion of us.”

  “Used toilet paper has more value than his opinion.”

  Elysia snorted. “True.” She rubbed her face with both hands. “This is so screwed up.” She dropped her hands. “I’m going to go.”

  “Addie?” Rowan called from the door.

  “Catch you later,” Elysia said to me, then walked away.

  I watched her go, wishing I could send her home with Ian. I had no doubt that he would look after her. But he must be gone. Neither Xander nor Doug noticed his presence. I released a sigh and walked over to Rowan.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone low.

  “She’s pretty upset. Do you think I should call James?”

  “Your Grace?” Xander’s voice carried from within the room.

  “Before this is over, I’m going to end that smug bastard,” I whispered.

  Rowan chuckled, then placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me into the room.

  Doug knelt beside Albright’s body, his blond head visible over the desk. A pair of PIA agents stood nearby, watching the proceedings with uncertain expressions.

  “Gentlemen,” Xander said, addressing the two men. “Would you give us a little privacy?”

  The men exchanged a look.

  “I would appreciate it,” Rowan added.

  The men nodded and with a mumbled Your Grace, hurried from the room. Rowan closed the door behind them.

  Xander pushed back his hood, a frown on his handsome features. “It would seem they find the prospect of being ashed more frightening than being Made.”

  “It’s more immediate,” Rowan said. He pushed back his own hood. “One can hold the hope of escaping before being Made.”

  Xander grunted. “True.” He took a seat on the edge of Albright’s desk, and I gritted my teeth at the rudeness of his actions. “Douglas?” Xander prompted. “Find anything?”

  “He was stabbed by a three-pronged weapon of irregular shape,” Doug answered. “I can’t be certain until the autopsy, but from the lack of excessive bleeding and the victim’s apparent age, I would say cardiac arrest.”

  “He was soul ripped,” I said.

  All three men turned to stare at me.

  “And how would you know that?” Xander demanded.

  “Elysia.” He didn’t need to know that she couldn’t touch her power right now.

  Doug rose to his feet. His brow wrinkled, but he didn’t comment.

  “Any idea what might have done this? Deacon?” I turned to him.

  Xander’s eyes narrowed. “There is only one creature that can rip the soul from the living.”

  “A grim.” I crossed my arms.

  His gaze followed the movement, glancing at my upper arms before returning to my face. “And the grim is a creation of alchemy.”

  I snorted. “Are you suggesting I created a
grim to kill the man who has made my work possible?”

  “Perhaps it got away from you.” He smiled. “You are untalented, after all.”

  “I am not the only alchemist who survived the Alchemica’s destruction.”

  Once again, his gaze locked with mine. Was it my imagination, or had his faded blue eyes lightened a little? My fingers itched for a vial.

  “You refer to my nephew.”

  “My former colleague, Neil Dunstan,” I added so there could be no confusion. I decided to take a gamble. “He was here this morning. He told me that if I didn’t help him, I would regret it.” I gritted my teeth. “Do you know where your nephew is? I would like to pay him a visit.”

  Xander studied me. “And if he possesses a grim?”

  “Does he?”

  Xander glanced at Rowan. I had almost forgotten that he was there. Strange that he just stood there and let me go after Xander.

  As if aware of my thoughts, Xander abruptly stood up. “You think I’m in this with him.”

  “Did Neil imply something?” Rowan asked me.

  I fought the urge to smile. Rowan had given me a way to hint at what I knew, without giving away that I had been spying. I turned back to Xander and arched a brow.

  “Okay, fine,” Xander said, exasperation in every word. He faced Rowan. “I didn’t tell you this, but Neil paid me a visit the other day. He was bragging about some big alchemical achievement and wanted me to reinstate him as heir.”

  Doug lifted his brows, but didn’t speak.

  “I gave him some silly little task to occupy his time.” Xander shook his head. “I’m afraid the boy has gone the way of his mother.”

  “Being insane doesn’t make him less of a threat,” Rowan said.

  Xander sighed. “I know.”

  “And this alchemical achievement?” Rowan asked.

  Xander shrugged.

  Where was Elysia when I needed someone to shout bullshit?

  Rowan crossed the space between him and Xander. “We’ve worked side-by-side for almost two decades. Things could have gone very differently when magic first returned, but we showed the world that it could work. This week is a very important one in that evolution, and I want you to be part of it.” Rowan gripped Xander’s shoulder, a hint of color in his gray eyes. “Are you with me?”

  Another sigh from Xander. “You want me to put him down.”

  “I want you to remove a potential threat.”

  A moment’s silence, then Xander gave him a stiff nod. “As you command.”

  Rowan frowned. “No, I don’t command, I ask. As one leader to another. We are in this together.”

  “Thank you, Rowan. I’ll try.”

  A knock sounded. It was almost amusing to watch all three men hurry to pull up their hoods. Rowan walked over and opened the door, revealing Waylon on the threshold.

  “Director, please come in.” Rowan stepped back, gesturing for Waylon to join us.

  “Come, Douglas,” Xander said, starting for the door. “We’ve done all we can here.” He gave Waylon a nod as he passed. “Director.”

  Waylon nodded in turn. “Deacon.”

  Xander walked out the door and Doug trailed in his father’s wake. He hesitated on the threshold, and though I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew they met mine before he followed his father from the room.

  Waylon cleared his throat before turning to Rowan. “Since you involved yourself, I assume this one is mine?”

  “No,” Rowan answered.

  Waylon frowned. “Then why are you here? Why was the PIA called?”

  “That was my fault, Director,” I spoke up. “I over-reacted.”

  “I’m here for Addie,” Rowan said. “There have been protests since she began working here, and I wanted to reassure myself that she is not in danger.”

  “I thought the protests had died off since she became a celebrity.”

  “Are you implying that I’m in this for the fame?” I asked.

  “You walk around here in those robes, drawing attention to yourself. You seem to like it.”

  “Director,” Rowan began, but I placed a hand on his arm, silencing him.

  “I wear the robes because people like to bring up my past in an attempt to slander me. I don’t hide what I was, and beyond that, it proves my qualifications. Besides, the PIA once retained the services of an Alchemica alchemist.”

  “And I revoked his contract at His Grace’s insistence. A rival of yours?”

  “His ethics are suspect.”

  Waylon snorted, perhaps implying that all Alchemica alchemists were suspect. “And now I have no expert in the field.”

  “I’d be glad to help, if you have need of it.”

  “You work for him.” He nodded at Rowan.

  “I work for me.”

  Waylon looked like he wanted to say more, but he seemed to think better of it and turned to go.

  “Waylon.” Rowan stopped him.

  “I’ll keep the scene secure until the police arrive.”

  “Thank you.”

  Waylon didn’t respond; he just walked out the door.

  I looked up at Rowan. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. I need to have a conversation with him at some point. But that can wait.” He fell silent.

  “Are you upset about what I said to Xander?”

  “You worried me. I feared that I had wasted almost two decades of my life placating that man, and you were going to destroy it in an instant.” He shook his head. “One of these days, I’ll learn to trust your judgment.”

  “So, you believe me about Xander?”

  “I never disbelieved, but we still don’t know if this task he gave Neil is the summit.”

  “Rowan. Come on. Don’t—”

  He held up a finger, silencing me. “But I’m not stupid. I moved the location when you first told me.”

  I propped my hands on my hips. “Were you going to tell me?”

  “It was a huge headache and just finalized this morning. Cora vowed to remove some of your fluids if it proves to be all for naught.”

  “Great. To prove Cora wrong, all the Elements of the world have to be threatened by a deranged grim. I can’t win.”

  Rowan smiled, but it faded quickly. He wordlessly stepped past me and walked around the desk. He stood for one long moment, and I walked over to join him.

  “I’m so tired of looking at dead bodies,” I whispered. “People killed because of me.”

  Rowan laid a hand on my shoulder. “It’s commendable that death continues to outrage you, even when you’ve seen so much.”

  I looked up, noting the faint orange glow within his hood and wondering what emotion the fire rode. “Do you think that’s why necromancers are often…twisted? They see so much death that they become desensitized to it.”

  “Perhaps.” He slipped an arm around my shoulders and guided me to the door. “Let’s go.” His arm tightened around me for a final squeeze before he took it away as we left the room.

  The silence was broken the moment we stepped out of the roped off hallway. Cameras and reporters suddenly surrounded us, clambering for Rowan’s attention.

  “Your Grace, are we about to see another onset of magical deaths?”

  “Do they suspect alchemy? Is your alchemist a suspect?”

  I stiffened on that one.

  “Is it true that you forced the hospital board to accept unproven techniques to treat their patients?”

  “Are you sleeping with her?” Someone in the back shouted.

  My cheeks heated, and I wondered if deploying a grenade of Knockout Gas would be considered hostile.

  Rowan tapped the down button on the elevator panel and calmly turned to
face the crowd. They instantly fell silent.

  Chapter

  9

  Rowan cleared his throat. “I’m here to pay my respects to a man who was a pioneer in his field, and to offer my assistance in finding his murderer. And yes, I have given my approval of Miss Daulton’s noble efforts to bring relief and hope to the suffering.”

  “But she’s an Alchemica alchemist.”

  “A master alchemist,” Rowan said. “I sincerely hope the talk of starting an accredited alchemy program bears fruit.” The elevator dinged behind us. “The world could use more like her.”

  My heart swelled, and I wanted to throw my arms around him right there in front of everyone.

  Rowan turned away and the questions pelted us once more. He ignored them, gesturing me to precede him into the empty car. I did as he asked, trying to keep my expression as serene as his voice sounded.

  “So we’re to conclude that magic is in bed with alchemy?” the same voice shouted from the back.

  The doors slid closed and I slumped against the wall.

  “I intend to find out who that was,” Rowan said, his voice cool.

  “Once you do, let me know. I believe he deserves of a dose of my atomic diarrhea potion.”

  “I thought castration by fire more appropriate.”

  “Too obvious. My way is more subtle.”

  “But mine is more satisfying.”

  I snorted. “Now, now, Your Grace. I’m the dark one in this relationship, remember? Besides, I can always give him atomic diarrhea and cause certain appendages to shrivel and fall off.”

  Rowan’s hooded head turned in my direction. “Can you really?”

  “Don’t sound so concerned. I like all your appendages right where they are.”

  He chuckled. “Leave it to you to start talking dirty when this elevator is about to open on another pack of rabid reporters.”

  “Do you think they’d get suspicious if I hit the emergency stop button?”

  “Maybe a little.” A smile entered his voice.

  A few minutes later, we were alone in the quiet of his limo. He pulled me into his arms, but our banter from the elevator didn’t carry over. He knew where my heart was. His was in the same place.