The Alchemist's Flame

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The Alchemist's Flame Page 12

by Andre, Becca


  “Albright was a good man,” Rowan said. “The world is a little darker without him.”

  “Yes.” I snuggled closer, not trusting my voice to say more. For the next five minutes, I just let him hold me.

  “He knew who you were,” I said into the quiet.

  “I suspected.”

  “He asked me to help you.”

  “Mm.” Rowan pulled the ponytail holder from my hair and threaded his fingers through the loose strands. A soothing gesture, but I wasn’t certain if it was for him or me.

  “When I asked,” I whispered, “he told me he was the doctor who tried to save your niece.”

  Rowan’s fingers stilled a moment, then continued their combing. “He was a fighter, a warrior in that white coat. I never forgot, and tried to help him with funding, with the support of my position, and later, you.”

  I closed my eyes. “Thank you for letting me help.”

  His arms tightened around me, and his lips brushed my forehead. More miles passed in silence.

  “I don’t want you alone tonight,” he said. “Come to dinner with us.”

  “Us? Is Cora part of that us?”

  He sighed. “The two of you really need to make up.”

  “I don’t see that ever happening.”

  “It won’t if you don’t try.”

  I leaned back to look him in the eye. “Rowan—”

  “Okay, a night cap then. I’ll pick you up at ten.”

  That would give me time to get some work done in the lab. I smiled. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” He traced a finger along my jaw, then tipped up my chin. A faint band of orange was visible in his eyes. “But it wasn’t a question.”

  “You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” He pressed his lips to mine.

  I gripped the front of his gray robes. “Just so you know,” I said against his lips. “If I kiss you back, that doesn’t mean you’ve won.” I nipped his lower lip. “But I do commend you for the effort.”

  “And just so you know. This is only the opening volley.”

  I grinned at his latest love and war reference, but Marlowe was turning onto my block, so an opening volley was all I got.

  “Hey,” I greeted Ian as I walked out of the back hall. “I guess you saw the gruesome twosome and got out of there?”

  “The gruesome twosome?” Ian set aside his pen, and rose from the stool he had been sitting on.

  “Xander and Doug.”

  “I got the reference. I was amused by your word choice.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t come up with it. Honestly, I don’t know who did. It sounds like something from Scooby Doo.” I stopped beside the shelf in the corner and began unloading my vials from their narrow pockets.

  “Scooby Doo?”

  I looked up, catching Ian’s puzzled expression. “One of these days, I need to educate you on the wonders of the modern world.”

  “And these wonders include something called Scooby Doo?”

  I smiled. “Okay, it’s actually a children’s program, but it’s great. Monsters, ghosts, lots of creepy—”

  Ian was grinning.

  “The whole horror genre is lost on a necromancer, isn’t it?”

  His expression sobered as he considered my question. “Or perhaps the necromancer is the perfect audience because he knows those things are real.”

  I set the last vial on the shelf and turned to face him. “Good point. God knows I’ve certainly come face to face with a lot of monsters these last few months.” I rubbed a hand over my face.

  Ian moved closer. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s so senseless. Albright was a wonderful man. He did so much good, for so many people, and he was killed to get to me.”

  “You’ve done a lot of good, as well.”

  “I make burn salve.”

  “You regrow skin for those who have lost it.”

  I rolled my eyes and started to walk past him, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “You also brought a dead man back to life.”

  I snorted. “Leave it to a necromancer to be impressed over the corpse I animated.”

  “I don’t refer to the corpse in Neil’s cooler last December. I meant this one.”

  I turned to face him. “You?”

  “Yes. I was truly dead when you found me last fall. The years had begun to take their toll. I knew Neil was my last hope to escape my grave and avenge my daughter.”

  “You weren’t that far gone.”

  “I toyed with you, and I did it simply for my own amusement. Here I had the most powerful magic wielder in the modern world, and the girl Neil claimed would be the greatest alchemist of all time at my mercy.”

  “I guess I have to give Neil credit for being a good judge of talent,” I teased, not sure I wanted to hear the rest of this.

  Ian smiled. “True.” He took a breath and released it. “I fully intended to kill you both just to thumb my nose at Neil and the rest of his Family.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Don’t credit me with any altruistic motives.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I want you to see that you are capable of good work, too. I am only one man, but you saved me.” The grin resurfaced. “You even gave me back my skin.”

  “You were rather icky without it.”

  “Yes.” He tugged straight the cuff of the linen shirt peeking out from his coat sleeve.

  I smiled as I watched him straighten the other. “Bit of a narcissist, aren’t you?”

  “So Isabelle informed me daily, even though she knew it was her fault.”

  “How’s that?” I schooled my expression, trying not to reveal my shock that Ian had spoken of his wife with no prompting from me.

  “She liked me to look good. Each time a new shipment arrived at the mercantile, she would insist we go into town and that I try on all the new wares until she found one that suited her.”

  “And you went willingly?”

  “I liked to please her, so it became something of a habit.” He gave me an elegant shrug. Only Ian could make a shrug elegant.

  His story was such a contrast to the monster I had found in that crypt. What had the slow decay of his appearance done to his psyche?

  I realized he was watching me. “Was she beautiful?”

  “I do not have the words to describe her,” he answered, his words soft. “Nor would I attempt to. But more than her beauty was her heart. She humbled me, and showed me how to be a good man. Evidence of that is how quickly I lost it once she was gone.”

  I reached out and took his hand, not realizing how instinctive the action was until his icy palm pressed to mine. I never willingly touched his dead flesh. I surprised myself, and by his expression, I had surprised him, too.

  “Welcome back,” I said.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  He turned his head, looking toward the stairs and I followed his gaze. Elysia stood in the doorway.

  “I thought I heard voices,” she said.

  “I just got back.” I walked over to join her. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.” Her hair was damp as if she had just gotten out of the shower. I found showers to be a calming experience. Perhaps she did, too.

  “Addie, what happened?” Ian moved closer, but maintained a respectable distance.

  “Ely stood up to Xander,” I said. “She called him a liar to his face. It was great.”

  “What did he lie about?” Ian asked, his tone careful as if he feared she might flee—or scream at him.

  Elysia frowned, then shocked me by answering. “He claimed to know nothing about the funeral homes the N
elson Family has purchased in my hometown. He’s trying to put my grandmother out of business.”

  “Your grandmother still lives?”

  “I call her grandmother because she raised me. She’s my cousin. My mother died when I was six. Her mother died when she was three.” Elysia turned on her heel and walked upstairs.

  I looked back at Ian in time to catch his sigh. I offered him a sympathetic shrug, then walked up the steps after Elysia. We reached the living room just as a portal shimmered closed, leaving a large black hellhound standing beside my coffee table. A banged up backpack lay at his feet.

  “It’s James,” I called down the stairs to Ian. He thanked me, but said nothing else, returning to the lab. I turned back to our visitor and found James the man in the hellhound’s place. He pulled over the backpack, holding it strategically in front of him.

  “I brought some clothes to take with us,” he said to Elysia. “And some extra to leave here.” The end of the sentence sounded like a question.

  She smiled. “The bottom drawer in my dresser is empty. You’re welcome to it.”

  “Thanks.” He was the hellhound in the next instant, and gathering the backpack strap between his jaws, trotted off to Elysia’s room.

  “My life is truly unique,” I said, watching him go.

  “Yeah. I can relate.”

  We exchanged a grin. “You and James going somewhere?” I asked.

  “Grams’s place, to get my car. Why don’t you come with us. She’s making dinner.”

  “Grandma’s home cooking? I’m tempted, but I need to get to work. I have a lot to do.”

  “James is taking me, and he can bring you back. You have nothing to eat here.”

  “Come with us, Ad.” James stepped out of Elysia’s room dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a black T-shirt. “I’ll have you back in the lab in half an hour.”

  “Forty-five minutes if you have dessert,” Elysia added. “And Grams always has dessert.”

  Ian could always start without me. I gave them a smile. “Let me go change.”

  In typical grandma fashion, Elysia’s grandmother had a magnificent spread of food waiting for us. I had insisted Elysia call ahead to warn them of the addition to their dinner party, but I suspected that hadn’t caused a problem. More noteworthy was the way I arrived, rather than my presence. Grams and Elysia’s young cousin, Olivia, had been astonished that I could travel through the land of the dead, but they seemed to accept Elysia’s suggestion that I had necromancy in my ancestry. Then too, the novelty of James joining them for dinner might have distracted them. It wasn’t every day that the dead joined them at the table—even in a necromancer’s household.

  “Oh, wow. That was amazing.” I slumped in my chair. “I haven’t eaten this well since Elysia made me breakfast.”

  “I would hardly call that breakfast.” Elysia laughed. “You didn’t even have any onion.”

  “I really need to go grocery shopping—especially if you’re going to stay with me.”

  “Will you be spending the night?” Grams asked Elysia. “The guest rooms are made up.”

  “Thanks, but we really need to get back. Addie has potions to brew, James has his job with the Flame Lord, and I…”

  “You what?” Grams asked, her tone soft.

  Elysia braced her elbows on the table and covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Ely.” Grams reached over and gripped her forearm. “It’s all right. You’ll find your way.”

  “I confronted the Deacon today,” Elysia said into her hands.

  “What?”

  “When was this?” James asked.

  “This afternoon,” I answered. “At the hospital.” I had told him about Dr. Albright, but I hadn’t gone into detail about meeting Xander. “She was great,” I added, giving Elysia a smile.

  Elysia groaned and dropped her head to the table.

  “What did you say?” Grams asked. She didn’t sound angry. More like resigned.

  Elysia lifted her head. “I told him that I didn’t appreciate him undercutting our business here.”

  “What did he say?” Olivia asked, her tone awed.

  “He claimed that he didn’t know what I was talking about. Then he laughed and said that insanity must be creeping up on me early. At least the Flame Lord came to my defense.”

  “The Flame Lord was there?” Grams asked.

  “Yes,” Elysia said. “He even questioned Xander about it, but Xander claimed ignorance, that his extended Family bought and sold homes all the time without his personal input.”

  “Bullshit,” Grams said.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s exactly what Elysia said.”

  “You didn’t,” Olivia whispered, eyes wide. “What happened?”

  “His Grace tried to question Xander further, and Xander told him this was Old Magic—and that was the end of it.”

  “So, no help from that quarter,” Grams said.

  “He’ll help,” I spoke up. “But it’ll be a subtle thing. He doesn’t want to start a war with Old Magic, though I’ve argued for it more than once.”

  Olivia frowned. “You want to eliminate Old Magic?”

  “I want to eliminate Xander. I like most necromancers, but that guy…” I shivered.

  Elysia sighed and rubbed her face with both hands. “I’ve probably screwed us.”

  “We were already screwed,” Grams said. “You merely voiced our problems—and in a public setting with an outside party. I think that shows good thinking.”

  “There was no thinking. I looked at the smug bastard and saw red.”

  Grams chuckled and got to her feet. She stopped beside Elysia’s chair and gripped her shoulder. “You tried. You stood up for the Family. That’s what matters.”

  “Too little too late. I can’t even challenge him.”

  “Why not?” Olivia asked. “He can’t be stronger than you.”

  Elysia hesitated. She still wore her contacts and had asked us not to tell her grandmother and cousin about what Neil had done to her. “He would probably wipe the floor with me. I should have practiced more.”

  “Your cousin Curtis might be able to show you a few things,” Grams said.

  “Wasn’t he institutionalized last year?”

  “He still has his lucid moments.”

  Elysia groaned and dropped her head into her hands once more.

  “How about some dessert?” Grams asked the rest of us. “Livie made us a lovely chocolate cake.” She gestured at the covered cake pedestal on the counter.

  “Sounds divine,” I said.

  “Livie, you want to get the plates?” Grams asked.

  “Sure.” The girl jumped to her feet, seemingly relieved to address a task less daunting than the Deacon.

  Grams moved over to the counter that held the antique cake pedestal.

  James pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “Here. Let me.” He picked up the heavy dish and carried it to the table.

  Grams frowned at his back, her expression uncertain. She clearly didn’t know what to make of him. She blinked a few times, then turned a grandmotherly smile on me. “After dessert, Elysia can show you the house.”

  “Addie wants to get back to the lab,” Elysia said.

  “I don’t mind a tour,” I said, not wanting to hurt her grandmother’s feeling. “But only the residential part.”

  “And here I thought you were brave.” Olivia gave me a mischievous grin as she set a stack of clean dessert plates on the table.

  “Necromancers.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Yes, that’s me,” Elysia said, laughing a little as I studied the picture of her as a child—holding a dead bird. Yes, necromancers were an odd lot.
Even the ones I liked.

  I flipped through a few more pages of the photo album. The binding was old, and the Mallory name had been embossed on the cover, but the pictures inside were only a few decades old. So much for stumbling upon an old family tome that would give me some insight into the fate of Ian’s sons. I closed the cover and returned it to the coffee table where I had first spied it.

  “So, your grandmother and Olivia are both cousins? Second or third cousins?”

  “Distant cousins.”

  “Are they descended from Ian, too?”

  She frowned. “Of course, they’re Mallorys. Why?”

  I considered blowing off the question, but that would get me nowhere. If she refused to help, I would be no worse off than I was now. And who knew, she might want to know more about her family’s past.

  “I told Ian I would try to find out what happened to his sons. They ranged in age from ten years to a few months old when he was entombed. He never knew what became of them.”

  “Joseph is buried out back.”

  “You have a cemetery in the back yard?” Ian had implied that it was a common practice, but I hadn’t expected Elysia’s family to follow it.

  “Come, I’ll show you.”

  We returned to the kitchen where Grams was loading the last of the covered food dishes into the refrigerator. Olivia was passing James the clean plates, letting him place them on a high shelf.

  “I’m showing Addie the cemetery,” Elysia announced, heading for the back door.

  “Cool, can I come?” Olivia asked.

  “You still have Mrs. Holsinger to make up,” Grams said.

  “Oh, right.” Olivia looked disappointed, but she didn’t argue.

  “Go on, James,” Grams said. “You’ve worked hard enough.” She actually smiled at him.

  “It was the least I could do.” He returned her smile and hurried after us.

  “Do I want to ask who Mrs. Holsinger is?” I asked once we were alone on the back porch.

  “My guess is she’s one of the bodies in the cooler. Livie has a flare for hair and make-up, so she tends to take care of that aspect. Though Grams is letting her do more with the embalming process.” Elysia walked down the porch steps. “Livie wants to be a mortician.”

 

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