The Alchemist's Flame

by Andre, Becca

  He toyed with a strand of my wet hair. “Well, your hair’s clean.”

  I listened to his heart beat and didn’t respond.

  “Hey.” He ran a finger along my jaw. “Talk to me.”

  Time to lay it all on the table. “Cora said that if I want to save you, I should leave you.”

  “I need to have a talk with her.”

  “No.” I sat up and looked him in the eye. “Donovan agreed, but he wasn’t too keen on the solution.”

  “I’m glad you’re consulting my family about our relationship.” Sarcasm laced his tone. “What did Era say?”

  “She brings me slinky dresses and high heels. Her opinion seems to be the outlier.”

  He frowned. “What is your opinion?”

  “Either way, I rip out my heart.”

  He studied me a moment, then gripped the side of the tub and climbed out. He picked up a towel and after a quick rub down, began to pull on his clothes.

  I stepped out of the tub and sat down on the rim, waiting for him to finish.

  “I have six more Elemental families arriving today—most are already here.” He tugged his sweater into place and turned to face me. “The Offices will be closed, and we’ll be staying at the lodge for the rest of the week.”

  “Okay.” Why was he changing the subject? “Keep James with you. This isn’t over.”

  He frowned. “What about you?”

  “Neil doesn’t want me dead.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better. Come stay with us at that lodge.”

  Cora would love that. “I’ve got a lot to do here. Besides, I’ll have Elysia. She can summon James if something happens.”

  Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. It must be frustration. I had already cured his headache.

  He lowered his hand. “Join us for dinner tomorrow evening?”

  “With thirty-six Elements instead of twelve?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will I have to dress up?”

  He finally smiled. “No. It was established up front that the dress code would be informal.”

  “Poor Era.”

  “I told her it was for the best. Some of our cousins are from obscure parts of the world where formal means a few swirls of body paint and little else.”

  “I see your point.”

  “Good. Era didn’t. She heard that Quint had been raised by Aborigines and might dress accordingly.”

  “Quint, the hot Aussie?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know, I’m going to have to come just to check this guy out.”

  “Great,” Rowan said, though he smiled.

  I got to my feet and gave him a hug.

  He kissed my forehead. “We’ll figure this out?”

  “Yes.”

  He gave me a quick kiss on the lips, then he was gone.

  I glanced at what was left of the shower. We would figure this out, but first, Gavin. That crazy bastard was going down. And once I figured out how to remove whatever linked James to his brothers, those assholes would join Gavin in hell. The real one.

  A half hour later, I was hard at work trying to make my goals a reality. Rowan and James had cleared away most of the broken glass and equipment, so it didn’t take me long to get going. Fortunately, we had a lot of glassware stored in cabinets.

  I swirled the round-bottomed flask, eyeing the tincture inside before setting it on a cork ring to cool. I lay aside my tongs and opened my journal. Turning to the last page I had been working on, I discovered a sticky note. Don’t forget to call Brenda. I smiled. Ian certainly knew where to stick a note so I would find it.

  Brenda must have been expecting my call, because she answered on the first ring. “You won’t believe what I found.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “This Alexander guy was twisted.”

  “I’m gathering that.”

  “Anyway,” Brenda continued. “Ian Mallory’s three youngest sons didn’t die in the fire that killed him.”

  “Really?” That was such a relief. I had been dreading telling Ian about that.

  “His brother, Deacon Alexander Nelson adopted them.”

  My stomach dropped. “Adopted?”

  “He even had their birth certificates changed,” Brenda continued. “Changing the boys’ names and listing himself as the father. I found them when I did a search under their mother’s name. For some reason, Alexander didn’t bother to change that. Maybe he wasn’t married.”

  “Alexander married his niece, remember? The boys’ older sister. That would look a little weird on their birth certificates.”

  “What a twisted mess.” Brenda clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Anything else I can check?”

  “Can you find out where the three youngest are buried?”

  “I should be able to, especially if it’s local.”

  “I’m sure it is. Thanks for your help.”

  “It was fun. This one was a real puzzle.”

  I bid her farewell and returned to my bench, lost in thought. I would wait until I located their graves before I told Ian. Perhaps that sense of closure would make up for the fact that his boys had been raised by Alexander.

  I looked down at my open journal. I hadn’t made many notes since I began. My first entry stood out at the top of the page: Neil’s blood. That’s what I needed. If—

  Wait.

  The hairs on my arms stood up as the pieces fell into place. Ian’s three youngest sons had been adopted by Alexander. That meant the members of the Nelson Family were descended from—

  “Ian,” I whispered.

  Ian was the founder of the Nelson line, not his brother. What would he say when he learned that Xander, Doug, and even Neil were his descendants?

  Ironically, Elysia was Alexander’s only surviving descendant. I remembered her telling him that she was his true heir and a chill rolled down my spine. He would know the truth in those words.

  My eyes drifted back to my journal. Neil’s blood.

  “Oh!” Neil wasn’t Alexander’s descendant, he was Ian’s. He wasn’t a stunted ghoul master; he was a stunted lich king. Neil’s blood power shouldn’t give him the power to bind the living. So how had he bound Brian before Gavin took him?

  I hurried to the phone and dialed James’s number. “Hey,” I said when he answered. “Are you guys still hanging out with Ian?”

  “Yes. I believe they are on photo album number three.”

  I smiled, happy for Ian. At least part of his family had turned out as he hoped. “Would you care to let me talk to him?”

  “I can do that. What’s up?”

  “I have a necromancy question.”

  “You’ve called the right place. I’m ass-deep in necromancers. Grams called in a couple of elderly aunts to help sort out who’s who in the pictures.”

  I laughed. “Is that a problem?”

  “One tried to feel me up.”

  “What kind of feel up are we talking about?”

  “The magical kind. Although, the other one keeps checking out my, um—” He shifted the phone. “I told Ian to watch himself, and he told me that if I dressed more respectably, they wouldn’t feel at liberty to pursue their carnal interests. That’s a direct quote.”

  I had to pull the phone from my mouth to muffle the laughter.

  “Thanks,” James said. “You clearly feel my pain.”

  “I’m sorry. Put Mr. Manners on for me.”

  “Will do. Oh, and my phone’s about dead, so if it cuts out, that’s why.”

  “I’ll make it quick.”

  A moment later, Ian’s voice came over the line.

  “Having fun?” I asked.

  “This day
started off a bit rough, but it has become one of the better days I’ve had since you freed me.”

  “Grams had some good pictures?”

  “I got to see what Joseph looked like as a man. I’ve seen his wife, their children and grandchildren.” He voice dropped to a whisper. “There are also pictures of Mattie’s daughters and granddaughters.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “Judith has offered to have copies made. I don’t want to be rude and offer to pay for what is a gift, but is it very expensive?”

  “It’s very inexpensive.”

  “Good.” Relief colored his tone. “What do you need? James said you have a question.”

  “A necromancy question. Can the blood of a lich king be used for anything other than making liches? Specifically, could you do anything else?”

  “You’ve realized that Elysia is more than the sum of her parts.”

  I frowned. That wasn’t where I had been going with this line of questioning, but now that he pointed it out, I was very interested. “Her ability to heal the dead. Neither you nor Alexander could do that?”

  “No, we couldn’t.”

  I glanced at the vial of rust-colored powder that still sat on my bench top. Elysia’s blood essence. “Alexander’s demented experiment worked, didn’t it? He did father a child with your combined gifts.”

  “Yes. And unfortunately, I preserved it. We have to stop him, Addie. This has become so much more than vengeance. If he finds out what she is…”

  A wave of dread washed over me and the question came unbidden. “What is she?”

  “I’m going to reserve judgment until I’ve seen what she can do.”

  “What do you think she’s able to do?”

  “Think Dr. Frankenstein. Build a body, possess it, give it a soul.”

  “Give it a soul?”

  “Soul transference.”

  “That’s possible?”

  “In theory. I wish I could have examined this lich she created. The soul bond between her and James is a work of shocking intricacy. A blood oath to her would inspire fealty. A blood pact would make the oath giver her slave.”

  That statement gave me goosebumps and reminded of me of something. I flipped back a page to where I had Elysia write down everything that happened when Neil resurrected Gavin. The very first line read: Brian said he swore a blood oath to serve Neil.

  Oh my God. It was that simple.

  “Addie?”

  “I might be on to something.”

  “Do you need me to help—”

  “No, stay. Enjoy your reunion. I’ll keep you posted.”

  He thanked me and we ended the call. I turned to face my workbench, my gaze settling, once again, on the vial of Elysia’s blood essence. We had found a tube of Doug’s blood in Neil’s lab at the city morgue. According to Doug, Neil must have taken it while he was unconscious from the Knockout Gas. I was willing to bet anything that Neil had taken a sample from Elysia, as well. He had referred to her as his prize, so he clearly knew of her potential. He had also once referred to Ian as a forgotten family treasure. At the time, I had assumed he referred to Ian’s alchemy knowledge, but now I wondered. Might Neil be the source of the compiled family records Brenda had stumbled across?

  I retrieved my pen and wrote blood oath on the next line in my journal. Brian had sworn to serve Neil, but what if he had sworn the oath on Elysia’s blood? Brian wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. Neil could have tricked him into a more binding pact rather than just an oath. And Neil could have used Elysia’s blood rather than his own. Maybe I didn’t need Neil’s blood after all. I needed hers.

  I picked up the vial of Elysia’s blood essence. I was making a lot of assumptions, but I didn’t need to recreate exactly what Neil had done. All I needed was to undo it. Specifically, undo Elysia’s magic. I needed a solvent, and I happened to have a universal one flowing through my veins.

  I was clearing away the last of the dirty glassware when someone knocked at my back door. I picked up my newly designed necromancy solvent and slipped it in my bra for safekeeping before I walked down the short hall to the back door. If I got called away, I didn’t want the vial to get misplaced.

  Reaching for the deadbolt, I hesitated. “Who is it?” I called through the thick door.

  “Colby.”

  I twisted the deadbolt and opened the door. “This is a surprise,” I told him. “I figured you would be at the lodge with the others.”

  “I should be. Fortunately, cell phone reception sucks out there, or Lynn would be calling me every thirty seconds.” He rolled his eyes.

  I smiled, reminded of the way Era protested her family’s overprotectiveness. “Do you want to come in?” I opened the door wider.

  “First, I have a question.”

  “Okay?” I suspected I knew where this was going.

  “This is the last time I’ll ask,” he continued, confirming my suspicions. “Will you take away my magic, permanently?”

  “No. You were chosen for—”

  “That’s horseshit.” Fire sprang to light around his pupils. “It’s a genetic mutation. A deformity. A disease.”

  “Cole.”

  “He said you wouldn’t cure me. That you were weak now, afraid to take a chance.”

  A finger of dread stroked along my spine. “Neil.” They hadn’t been alone long at the city morgue, but it might have been long enough. Now that I thought about it, I remembered Colby knocking Neil out into the hall right after Neil mentioned his ability to remove Colby’s power.

  “You’ve been in contact with Neil,” I said.

  “Yes. He waits for me now.”

  “Stay away from him. He’s not what he seems.”

  “What’s that? A better alchemist than you?”

  I snorted at his effort to rile me. “He’s a self-serving megalomaniac.”

  “And you’re not selfish? If you cared at all, you would cure me. I bet you would cure Rowan if he asked.”

  “Rowan wouldn’t ask.”

  “Right, I forgot. He wants to be a martyr.” He turned and walked away.

  “Colby, don’t go.”

  He waved me off and climbed into his rental car.

  I ran after him. “Colby!”

  He gunned the engine, the tires squealing as he pulled out of the small parking area behind my lab. I ran to the curb, but he was long gone before I got there.

  “Damn it!” I stomped my foot, then ran back to the lab. I slammed the door behind me and hurried to the phone. I called Rowan’s cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Colby must be right about the reception. I could try to send him a text, but I would need to run upstairs and get my cell phone. It would probably be easier to call the front desk at the lodge and have them put me through to his room.

  I picked up the phone book and began thumbing through the pages. A series of loud bangs on the back door made me jump. Had Colby returned? If so, he sounded pissed.

  Maybe I should call James. I grabbed the phone just as the back door slammed open. I didn’t have time to make a call.

  I ran to my shelf of potions and picked up one of my newly designed Knockout Gas canisters. It was the same formula as my Knockout Powder, just in aerosol form. I doubted it would work any better on Colby than the powder had, but it should give me enough time to call James. I didn’t think Colby truly intended to cause me harm. He probably wanted to scare me into throwing some X Dust at him.

  I revised my suspicions when multiple sets of footsteps pounded down the back hall. I armed the canister, ready to throw it, when half a dozen men in black fatigues spilled into the room. I couldn’t help but remember the liches Neil had sent after me time and time again. They had been PIA agents.

  A large black man
stepped forward, PIA stamped in white across his broad chest. “Put down the canister and step away from the potions, Miss Daulton.”

  “Agent Johnson?” I recognized him from the night Rowan and I had visited the PIA offices.

  “Do as you’re told.” He barked the words, no warmth in his voice.

  Puzzled, I returned the canister to the shelf.

  “Now move away,” Johnson said.

  I took a few steps to the side and a pair of agents came forward. The taller of the pair shoved me against the counter. “Hands on your head.”

  I did as told, then chewed my lip as his partner patted me down. He found a vial of lavender oil in my pocket, but that was all.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  No one answered me. The others fanned out and began to search the lab. The pat down over, the first agent pulled my hands from my head and cuffed them behind my back.

  Finished, he turned me to face him. “You have the right to remain silent…”

  “You’re arresting me?”

  He ignored my question and continued to read me my rights.

  “Found it,” one of the other agents called. He was going through the cabinets beneath Ian’s workbench. The agent lifted out a large Mason jar and set it on the counter.

  I cringed. It must be one of the body parts Ian kept as ingredients. Most were internal organs taken from a funeral parlor where he had worked before his entombment. But the PIA didn’t know that.

  “I can’t find the other guy,” a different agent said, returning to the room from the stairs to my apartment.

  “Where’s your accomplice, Miss Daulton?” Johnson asked me. “The blond man who was bragging about the body parts he collects.”

  They were looking for Ian, too?

  “He wasn’t bragging,” I said. “I was teasing him. I—”

  “I guess you find this funny.” He picked up the Mason jar and held it before me.

  I stared at the fresh human heart floating in a clear golden liquid. That wasn’t Ian’s.

  Johnson shifted his grip, exposing a printed label pasted to the side of the jar. Two words were written on the label: Megan Fields. It was the jar Ian and I had seen in Xander’s cooler last December. It seemed that Gavin’s sole reason for visiting my lab hadn’t only been to dismember Ian.