by Andre, Becca
“That’s a first.” She stopped in front of me. “Well, open the door so I can offer Rowan some tea.”
“He’s cooling down.”
Cora eyed me a moment, then walked to the open door across the hall. “Come talk to me.”
Great. I pushed off Rowan’s door and followed her into what I assumed was her office. It was certainly neat enough to be. Nothing but a blotter, a letter tray, and pen caddy occupied the wide desk. Bookshelves lined every wall, loaded with thick hardbacks that I suspected were law books.
“Close the door and have a seat.” She circled around behind the desk and set the cups on the blotter.
I wanted to protest at the commands, but bit my tongue and did as I was told. It would mess up her neat office if she killed me in here, so I should be safe.
She settled in her dark blue chair and waited until I dropped into one of the color-coordinated floral chairs across the desk from her. She folded her hands on the blotter and studied me.
“Do Era and Donovan have offices, too?” I asked, not caring for her scrutiny.
“They do, but Donovan is not a desk man, and Era…”
I tensed. Oh shit, why did I go there?
“…has been away at college,” Cora finished.
I released a quiet breath. “Right.”
“So David,” she began.
“Is an ass.”
“Well, yes, but I’ve rarely seen him emotional.”
“He has control issues. Specifically issues with other people’s control. Namely, Rowan’s.”
“David and Rowan have different philosophies about how to handle their Element.”
“I gathered that, but…” How did I phrase this?
Her dark brows rose, waiting for me to continue. Lawyer, I reminded myself. She wouldn’t fill the silence with useless chatter; she would let me hang myself. I didn’t want to give her more ammunition, but she was someone who could validate my newest worry.
“Do David’s concerns have merit?” I asked.
“What specifically are his concerns.”
“That Rowan isn’t really in control.”
Cora frowned.
“The other night, Colby questioned Rowan on the same thing.”
“In what way?”
“They both accused Rowan of being in the things around him, and when I asked, Rowan told me they were right.”
Cora glanced toward her closed door, her brow wrinkling in genuine concern.
My pulse surged once more. “This is bad, isn’t it?” I whispered.
Her attention returned to me. “In the early years, Rowan would have put David’s icy demeanor to shame. Then we found Era.” She smiled at the memory. “Raising a child tends to thaw a person. But it wasn’t until this past fall that he really began to let go.”
This past fall, when he met… “Me.”
“Yes.”
I pushed up out of my chair, then paced to the door and back as I struggled to find an outlet for the anxiety that had seized me. “None of this was ever my intent,” I told her. “All I wanted was to find out what happened to the Alchemica, and to me.”
Cora watched me with those eyes of multi-hued blue, but again said nothing.
“And all the crap that happened after that, it might have been because of me, but I didn’t instigate it.”
“You slept with him.”
My cheeks warmed. “I didn’t instigate that, either.”
“I doubt that.”
“You think I seduced him?” I wanted to laugh. “Do I look like a seductress?”
Cora frowned. “You’re attractive, but artless. Perhaps it was alchemical?”
I growled at the ceiling before I got control of myself once more. “To what purpose? What has his attention given me?”
“A job?”
“I didn’t ask him for a job. It was his suggestion that I work for the hospital. I’m an Alchemica alchemist. Would I have thought of that on my own?” I might as well play to what she thought of me. “And every time I turn around, someone calls me the Flame Lord’s alchemist. As if I need his name before mine to prove myself.”
She snorted. “True. That would wound your pride.”
“I’m so glad you understand.” I didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm. “I don’t care if you believe me, but I am telling you the truth. I didn’t set out to seduce him, but I do care about him,” I finished in a whisper. “I don’t want him hurt. I’ve been racking my brain to find a way to help him.”
“If you care about him, then leave.”
“What?”
“He’s a Fire Element. Emotion will destroy him. It almost destroyed him once before, and I’ve watched it destroy many Fire Elements since. Add to that the sheer chaos that defines your existence, and I don’t expect him to make it to spring.”
“But—”
“Leave him.” She rose to her feet. “That’s the solution if you really want to save him. And look at the plus side, perhaps everyone will stop calling you the Flame Lord’s alchemist.”
“You’re a bitch, you know that?”
“Perhaps, but he’s my brother. I care about him far more than you ever could.”
I held her gaze, but didn’t respond. I recognized a losing battle when I saw one. Plus, I now knew why Cora hated me. It wasn’t because of what I had done to Era; it was the potential I had to take Rowan away from her, permanently. The worst part was that I was starting to wonder if she was right.
“This isn’t a contest,” I told her and left the room.
There was no one in the hall, and Rowan appeared to still be in his office. For that, I was grateful. I needed time to think, and the best place to do that was the lab. I stopped at the head of the stairs and pulled out my phone. I glanced at Rowan’s door. I really needed to tell him about what had happened at the morgue, and about my concerns regarding Colby, but not now. Rowan needed a quiet moment.
I selected the lab’s number from my contacts list. “Hey, Ian,” I said when he answered the phone. “I’m at the Elemental Offices. Want to come get me?”
“Yes, the foundation for Elysia’s cure is prepared.”
Good, she had spoken with him. “Perfect.”
“I kept it warm, expecting His Grace to bring you home.”
“He has things to do.”
“Let me turn off the gas and I’ll be right over.”
I thanked him, ended the call, and headed downstairs. A hum of excitement tingled through my veins. If I could get the azoth to work consistently, I was well on my way to stopping Neil. I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward the library. The last time Ian had shown up at the Elemental Offices—unexpectedly—he had appeared in the library. I assumed that was where he would come now.
A crash sounded, followed by the sound of raised voices. Oh crap. I had forgotten all about David being here. I broke into a run.
The doors to the library stood open a few inches, letting the voices out, but not enough for me to see into the room. I shoved open the door and found what I expected. David and Sebastien were on their feet, facing Ian. An overturned chair lay beside the table. The cause of the crash I had heard?
“I can’t,” Sebastien was saying. “He contains no water.”
“That’s because he’s dead,” I said, joining them.
Sebastien turned with a gasp, then visibly relaxed when he realized it was me. David simply regarded me with that same cool expression.
“Sorry,” I said to Ian. “I forgot the room was occupied.”
He straightened the waistcoat he wore beneath the dark coat. “No harm done.”
“What do you mean, he’s dead?” Sebastien asked.
“Just that. He’s a lich,” I answered.
“Lich king,” Ian clarified.
I smiled. “Undead necromancer,” I added for clarification. “He’s also my lab partner, and my ride.”
“Your ride?” Sebastien asked. “How—”
Did I hear footsteps on the stairs?
“Rowan can explain it.” I gave him a smile. “Gotta run.”
I gave Ian a nod and the portal whispered open. A few steps later, the Offices were behind me.
“That was rather abrupt,” Ian said.
“It’s been a long day. I just want to get back to the lab.”
“Your wish, my command.” The portal opened in our lab.
“Thanks, Ian.” I stepped through and stopped.
James looked up from the test tube he was rotating in an open flame and gave me a grin.
Elysia sat on a stool a few feet away. “That took a while.”
“Sorry. The new burn unit director was there.” I shrugged off my coat and walked over to the rack to exchange it for my lab coat.
“How did that go?”
“It’ll work out.”
Ian returned to the workbench carrying a first-aid kit and set it on the counter before me. “You figured it out.” The azoth.
“Yes.” I kept my tone confident, refusing to let any doubt creep in. “Ironically, it was something Doug Nelson said that provided the epiphany.”
“Nice that the bastard is good for something.”
Elysia snorted and I glanced over. She never reacted favorably to anything Ian said.
“That’s Grams’s pet name for him.”
“Grams sounds like a fine woman,” Ian said, his words soft as if he feared to anger her by speaking.
“She is,” Elysia agreed.
Ian popped open the first-aid kit and withdrew an alcohol swab.
“You have to cut yourself again?” Elysia asked, her brow wrinkling in concern.
“It’s no big deal. I heal fast.”
“Why are you cutting yourself?” James asked. He hadn’t been here this morning.
“It’s a new skill.”
Ian cleaned a small lab knife with the alcohol wipe then laid both on a clean paper towel before me.
“Give me a minute and I’ll explain.” I closed my eyes and focused on what I wanted to do. What I wanted my blood to do. I thought about Elysia and the good person she was. How I wanted to make her whole. My mind drifted back to this morning, watching her and James transfer the contents of those heavy skillets to serving bowls. They had stood close, comfortable with each other, content to work together to accomplish a simple domestic task. And I heard Doug’s words. She loves him—whether she realizes it or not.
I opened my eyes and picked up the lab knife. Keeping myself centered, my thoughts on the problem at hand, I nicked my left ring finger.
Ian picked up a vial of translucent, mint green liquid, and I held my finger over the open mouth. A single crimson drop fell into the vial, the thick droplet falling through the green liquid to the bottom of the vial. Ian capped the vial and shook it while I wrapped a tissue around my fingertip.
“Here.” Elysia selected a bandage and ripped it open.
I smiled and wordlessly watched her bind my minor wound.
Ian set the vial on the counter before us, the faint clink loud in the silence.
I offered the vial to Elysia, but when she wrapped her hand around it, I didn’t immediately let go. “You truly mean him no harm,” I whispered.
“No harm will come to him,” she whispered. “And I will Make anyone who tries.” Her white eyes bore into my own.
I smiled, then released the vial.
She pulled off the cap and, without hesitation, drank it down. Setting the empty vial on the counter, she bent over and gripped her knees.
James walked around the end of the counter and placed a hand on her back. No one spoke. I suspected we were all holding our breath.
Elysia straightened. Her golden-brown eyes met mine and a grin curled her lips. Before I could ask, she pulled me into a tight hug.
“It worked?” James asked. “Permanently?”
She lifted her head and for just an instant, her eyes flickered white. James grunted and she laughed. “I think so,” she said.
He gave her a sheepish grin, then pulled us both into a hug, all three of us laughing.
I glanced over at Ian. He was watching us, a smile dimpling his cheeks before he turned away to begin cleaning up.
“So spill,” James said, releasing us. “Why your blood?”
I had never told him because it wasn’t a talent I could control. But maybe that was about to change. “I’m the azoth.”
“What?”
“The universal—”
“I know what it is, what do you mean you are the azoth.”
“Just that.” I laughed at his puzzled expression. “I know. I didn’t believe it, either—which might have been part of the problem.”
“How does it work?”
“I can imbue my blood with certain attributes. In Elysia’s case, the power to undo the magic that held her own in check.”
“You should make some extra. After all, Neil has the Extinguishing Dust formula.”
“It doesn’t work like that. I have to brew each remedy on a case-by-case basis, tailored to that individual.”
James’s brows rose. “Your new burn salve.”
“Yes.” I smiled at his quick mind. “The azoth offers great potential, but it’s limiting—and I’m still learning to use it.”
He cocked his head, studying me. A faint glow lit his green eyes. “That’s why you glow so bright, like a necromancer. You’re Old Magic.”
I opened my mouth to deny the claim, but Ian beat me to it.
“No. She is an alchemist. Without her alchemical talents, she would be simply human.”
“But the brightness of her soul,” James insisted.
“She is no more magical than the spark of life that becomes a child is magical. You don’t see magic, you see life.”
James frowned. “Then why are some brighter than others?”
If I wasn’t so interested in this conversation, I would have been stunned by James’s willingness to talk with Ian.
“With the exception of Addie, necromancers are the brightest of all,” James continued. “Elysia is blinding.”
“Does it have to do with our blood?” I asked Ian. “That’s how I tap into the azoth, and you said Elysia has a blood gift—though I don’t understand exactly what that is.”
“It’s called a blood gift because the blood must be physically used,” Elysia said.
“What does this magic actually do?”
“It depends on the necromancer. Most abilities are so rare, they’ve been reduced to myth and legend.” She glanced at James.
“The ability to make a lich with only your blood,” he said.
“Yes.” She gave him a sheepish look. “Another example is the soul bond.”
“Not every necromancer can create a soul bond?” I asked.
“No.”
“Huh.” I hadn’t realized that. “If a weaker necromancer had found James, they couldn’t have taken him?”
“They could, but they would have to actively control him.”
I thought about the time Clarissa had taken him. She had kept him in a steel cooler when not controlling him directly. Although, from what I understood, Clarissa was no minor talent. Perhaps Neil had forbidden her from taking James so he could take him for himself once the Final Formula made him whole. All that was a moot point now; I had screwed up his plans.
Ian took up the explanation. “Most necromancers powerful enough to create a lich can also create a soul bond, but it must be done during creation. Tho
se with a blood gift can use their blood to create a soul bond at any time.”
“By forcing the victim to drink their blood.” I kept my attention on Ian, trying not to think about Elysia binding James that way. “I’ll probably regret this, but how is a lich made?”
“It depends on the power of the necromancer.”
“Taking the heart verses using your own blood?”
“A necromancer with the ability can trap and bind a soul at the moment of death, but determining that moment is difficult.”
I cringed. “So the heart is taken to…define that moment?”
“Yes.”
I knew a necromancer had to kill to make a lich, but hearing the reason for the method made it seem so much more sinister. I suppressed a shiver, remembering well those jars of hearts on the shelves of Ian’s crypt. Which reminded me…
“Why do the hearts continue to beat?”
“They do not know they are dead,” Ian said.
Goosebumps rose on my arms.
“The heart also serves as the anchor for the bound soul. That is why you were able to destroy Neil’s liches by destroying their hearts. A weakness of that method of Making.”
A weakness because Ian was Made that way or because the liches he Made could be destroyed that easily? As for the first, it occurred to me that I didn’t know what he had done with his own heart once we took it from Xander’s cooler. And another more morbid thought: did it beat still?
“So how does it work to Make using only blood?”
“A necromancer with that kind of power can feed his blood into one nearly dead. A link is established, and the necromancer will feel the moment of death and can then bind the soul.”
The nearly dead. That was a bit too close to alive for me. I swallowed. “Does the heart beat still?”
“I have never witnessed such a Making,” Ian said.
“But you’re a lich king,” Elysia said. “You can Make with your blood.”
“That’s what a lich king is?” I asked. “I thought it was just a lich who could Make other liches.”
Ian didn’t answer me, his attention still on Elysia. “I know this comes as a surprise, but I didn’t Make anyone while I lived.”