The Bonds of Blood (The Final Formula Series, Book 4.5)

by Becca Andre

  Era threw up an arm, and the knives appeared to ricochet off an invisible barrier before her, though the first one he’d thrown skimmed past her cheek leaving a thin trail of red. The barrier protecting them from a sniper’s bullet must not have been between her and James’s brother—if it had existed at all.

  Elysia lifted her left index finger to her mouth and bit down, flinching as her teeth broke the skin.

  James’s brother dropped into a roll, disappearing behind the next parked car before Elysia could take a step toward him.

  Suddenly, the parked car slid sideways, smashing into the vehicle beside it.

  “Shit,” Era said. “He’s fast.” She glared at the cars she’d slammed together.

  Elysia frowned. Had he rolled beneath? Fearful that his brother still had a gun trained on them, she gripped Era’s wrist and pulled her down beside her. The move took Era by surprise and she dropped to one knee.

  “His brother might still have a gun on us,” Elysia reminded her.

  “As I told him, I got it.”

  Elysia stared at her. “You weren’t bluffing?”

  Era frowned. “I’m not as helpless as everyone thinks. Maybe I can’t set things on fire or rip a chasm in the earth, but I am an Element.”

  Elysia bit back a smile at her impassioned words. Maybe she had underestimated her. “Keep your barrier up and call James. Quickly. Tell him I’m with you. He can soul track me.”

  Era didn’t argue. She pulled her phone from her pocket and in moments had James on the phone. When she hung up, she paused to study her wrist, and Elysia saw the smear of blood she had left there.

  “Did he cut you?” Era asked.

  “No. I bit myself.”

  Era gave her a puzzled look, then her brows rose. “You intended to use your blood gift on him.”

  Elysia didn’t get to answer as she felt a portal open close by. Stay in the portal, she thought at James. “He’s here,” she said aloud. “Come on.” She stepped forward, keeping low. Fortunately, Era could travel through the land of the dead. It was an ability Addie had given her, though Elysia didn’t understand how—or why.

  “We can’t leave my car here. I’ve got a room to decorate.” Era rose to her feet.

  “Era,” Elysia whispered.

  “Barricade of air, remember?”

  “They’ll follow us if we take the car. They’re Hunters,” Elysia said as she stood.

  Era frowned. “Fine. But we can at least take the bags.” She began to gather the shopping bags from the trunk. Elysia leaned over and took a few bags as well.

  What’s going on? James’s voice echoed out of the portal.

  With the last bag in hand, Elysia slammed the trunk and stepped into the land of the dead. “I just met your brother.”

  James snarled.

  “Damn, James. You’ve got the creepiest growl.” Era stepped in beside them. She looked up at James, not bothered by the human-hellhound mash-up that he had to assume in this place. “Your shithead brother accosted us.”

  Here? He glared out into the parking lot.

  Elysia pressed her palm to his chest. “Don’t play their game.”

  You’re bleeding, James said.

  “She was about to take matters into her own hands,” Era said.

  Elysia exchanged a frown with her. “As a last resort.”

  James sighed, though it sounded a lot like a growl.

  “She said they’ll follow me if I drive home,” Era said to James. “Is that true?”

  It’s possible. I’ll take you to the manor. We can collect your car later. The portal closed and a new one opened an instant later. Elysia recognized the glass wall lining one side of the room. She had been here once before. It was the home of the Elements.

  Era stepped out and Elysia followed. The portal closed behind them, but an instant later, she felt another portal open upstairs.

  “He must have gone to his room to dress,” she told Era. At least, she assumed his room was upstairs. She hadn’t seen anything except this room the last time she was here.

  “Nice of him,” Era said, then grinned. “Of course, I don’t guess you mind if he walks around naked.”

  “I’m only allowed to play with the long dead.” She didn’t quite manage to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  “He’s been dead nineteen years. That’s a long time.”

  Elysia ignored the comment. “Would you take me to him?” It wasn’t necessary—Elysia could sense his death—but it would be rude to go wandering through the house on her own. “I want to get his take on his brother’s actions.”

  “I’d like to hear that, too.” Era walked toward the door. “We can drop this stuff off in the nursery. I want to show you how it’s coming along.”

  Elysia followed, wondering if Era would take offense if she asked for a rain check on the nursery decorating. After the day she’d had, she just wanted to go home.

  “So, what do you think?” Era propped her hands on her hips and looked around the room.

  “I think you definitely have a talent for this,” Elysia said, eyeing the freshly decorated nursery. Where she expected lots of baby blue, the room was decorated in assorted pastels that worked together surprisingly well. A couple of walls held a simple mural with a nature theme. A cheerful forest filled with birds and a meadow with a pair of deer.

  “The murals are wonderful.”

  “Donovan did those. I still have a mountain sunrise on one of my walls.”

  Elysia stared at the murals. “I had no idea Donovan was such a talented artist.”

  “He’s the poster child for the don’t judge a book by its cover adage.”

  Era pulled out the curtains she had bought from the bag and carried them to the window. She tossed the fabric up toward the curtain rod. Her throw hadn’t been hard enough to reach the rod, but the sheer material continued upward and looped around the metal bar.

  “Just to get the effect,” Era said. “I’ll get a ladder and hang them properly in a moment. But first, I want to make sure they match.” She stepped back for a better look.

  Elysia observed the room as well. Everything was so… complete. The curtains matched a big fuzzy area rug, complemented the paint, and coordinated with the bumpers in the crib, the changing pad on the table, and even the cushion on the rocking chair. A stack of blankets, packages of diapers, and boxes of wipes were on the lower shelf of the table. And the open closet door revealed a collection of tiny clothes.

  Elysia crossed her arms. She could have never done all this. Maybe the judge over the adoption process hadn’t been a blind fool, after all.

  Era glanced toward the door, but Elysia didn’t need to look. She had sensed him before she heard him, but she still looked over to watch James walk into the room. He had pulled on a pair of jeans and his typical black T-shirt.

  “Are you two okay?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Era answered him. “I could have killed the blond bastard easily. You’re the reason I didn’t.” A huff, and she walked out of the room.

  James frowned after her. “What was that all about?”

  “I think she gets tired of everyone underestimating her. And after watching her in action, I see her point.” She glanced toward the door. “She’s pretty badass.”

  He grunted. “She is an Element.”

  “I guess I’ve never gotten the full impact of what that means.” She pulled her gaze from the door and found him watching her.

  “What did Henry say to you?” he asked.

  Henry. She hadn’t even known which one he was. “He wanted to know where you were. They’ve been watching the Offices, waiting for you.”

  James frowned.

  “What if they find you?”

  “I can handle them.” He studied her. “You’re hurting. You need to release your m
agic.”

  She was surprised that he could tell. “Would you take me back to Grams’s?”

  “I’m here.”

  “One… animation doesn’t cut it anymore.”

  His brow wrinkled, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he reached out and took her hand, turning it over to expose her blood-smeared fingertip. It had stopped bleeding, but hadn’t fully sealed yet.

  He lifted her hand toward his face.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her heart rate surging.

  “I can’t help you any other way.”

  “I’m not so sure—”

  She stopped talking as her finger slid into the moist heat of his mouth. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath through his nose.

  She chewed her lip, not sure which was worse: the burn as his saliva healed her, or the sensations his tongue awakened. She stepped closer without conscious thought and pressed her other palm to his stomach. Her soul slipped free before she could stop it and answered the call of his death.

  He growled around her finger, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, much as they had with his brother—but for a completely different reason.

  The pressure on her soul relaxed, the relief making her knees weak. She slid her hand down his stomach to grip his waistband, hanging on as the world spun around her. Hell’s blood, this felt good.

  His hand settled on her waist, and he pulled her closer, his tongue brushing the sensitive pad of her finger. She took a deep breath and more of her soul slipped free.

  He growled again, releasing her finger to take her mouth with his own. His kiss was demanding, insistent. He gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place with the unbreakable strength of dead. His opposite hand left her waist to slide around to the small of her back and pull her tight against him.

  She groaned against his lips, wanting more. Wanting him. Her resolve crumbled further, and she fed him more of her soul.

  This time, he groaned, releasing her lips to tip back his head. There was no denying that he enjoyed the soul sharing as much as she did.

  He straightened, and his glowing eyes met hers. Except they weren’t green, not entirely. A crimson ring encircled each pupil.

  Startled, Elysia stepped away, and her soul snapped back with the force of a punch. The return of the pain blackened the edges of her vision, and she fell to her knees.

  “Ely!” He knelt beside her, his hand on her shoulder.

  “Your eyes…” She whispered the words, struggling to speak. “They were red. Like the time you consumed that bit of Alexander’s soul.”

  “My eyes were red?”

  She realized that she had never told him how his eyes had changed. “It was just for an instant.” She rubbed a hand over her face and noticed how much it was shaking. “Maybe I shouldn’t share my soul with you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Hurt me?”

  “I think you might have absorbed some of my excess.” Though judging by the pain she still felt, it hadn’t been much. “You once told me that’s why Gavin went insane: he ate too many souls.”

  “After he ripped them from living bodies.”

  She frowned not sure how to argue this. In truth, she wasn’t sure about anything anymore. She fought down the despair and the tears, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Talk to me?” he asked.

  “Take me home?” she whispered. “To Grams.” To the cemetery.

  “Okay.” His tone was subdued, defeated. He rose to his feet. “Let me change.”

  She heard the rasp of his zipper, but didn’t look up. She didn’t want to see what she couldn’t have. A moment later, a portal opened.

  Can you step in here? he asked.

  She pushed herself to her feet, wincing against the tension in her joints and the tightness of her skin. She stepped into the land of the dead and waited until he pulled open a portal in Grams backyard. Deciding to visit the cemetery first, she headed for the gate in the hedge, but the back door opened before she was halfway across the yard.

  “Elysia?” Grams called to her.

  She waved, but continued walking. Her grandmother didn’t call out again. She understood.

  Reaching the gate, she glanced back. James, the hellhound, stood a short distance behind her, having followed on silent feet.

  “I’ll be fine,” she told him. “Thank you.”

  She pushed open the gate and stepped into the cemetery. She expected him to follow and was surprised when she felt a portal open. When she glanced back, he was gone.

  Chapter 6

  James stood in the land of the dead, arguing with himself about leaving Elysia. Perhaps he should have remained to make certain she was able to return to her grandmother’s house after exercising her magic.

  No, that was silly. She wasn’t that bad off. And clearly, she didn’t want him around.

  That’s not fair. She hadn’t chased him off because she didn’t care for him; it was just the opposite. He tempted her too much, and that really wasn’t fair.

  Sighing, he decided to take care of a problem he was much better suited at handling: his brothers. He reached out to the place where he had just found Era and Elysia, but he hesitated before jumping back into the mortal plane. It would be smarter to take a look first. He stepped into the veil, his body morphing into the hellhound without conscious control. The parking lot was a lot more crowded.

  Remaining in the veil, James watched the scene around him. Era’s car was where they had left it, but a city police car along with a mall security vehicle were parked nearby. The cars beside Era’s were pressed together, glass and few pieces of trim littered the ground beneath them.

  “I’ve already called the PIA,” the security man was telling the police officer. “I see no other explanation for what happened here.”

  “Then why was I called?” the cop demanded. James understood that there was some friction between the PIA and the city police force. This guy’s tone supported that.

  Ignoring the discussion, James turned his attention to his surroundings. A crowd of the curious had gathered nearby, eyeing the smashed cars and suggesting theories as to what had happened. James didn’t see any familiar souls among them and turned his attention outward. He found no sign of his brothers, but that didn’t mean they had left. They could be nearby, staying out of his range. He would have to search for them the traditional way: by scent.

  James started to step out of the veil, but hesitated. With all the people around, that wouldn’t be a good idea. This form tended to send people into a panic. Though dog-like in appearance, the hellhound awakened some long-buried instinct that made most humans want to flee. He didn’t want to start a stampede that could get someone hurt. But if he waited for the crowd to disperse, the trail might go cold.

  A faint squeal of brakes drew James’s attention to the aisle behind him. A black van with PIA stamped in white on the door had stopped beside the police car.

  “Great,” the policeman muttered.

  The passenger door on the van opened, and James would have smiled if he could have when a familiar figure stepped out. It was Director Waylon. It must be a slow day at the PIA office—or someone had tipped off Waylon to what had really happened here.

  Still in the veil, James walked over to the van. Once the three men in SWAT gear exited the back and closed the door, he jumped through the side panel to land in the dark interior.

  Shifting to human form, James picked up a nearby duffle bag and was pleased to find a pair of black fatigues and a T-shirt with the PIA logo. They were too big, but serviceable.

  Dressed, he opened the back door and stepped out.

  The nearest agent turned to face him, his eyes going wide. His hand drifted toward his weapon.

  “Easy.” James lifted his own hands, then had to spread his legs to keep the oversized pants from sl
ipping down his hips. He should have looked for a belt. “I’m just borrowing the clothes. I need to speak to Director Waylon.”

  The agent’s eyes narrowed. “You’re that shapeshifter.”

  “I am,” James agreed, glad the guy recognized him. “The name’s James. You cool with this? Sometimes you guys start shooting at me.”

  “I’m not sure how cool with this I am.” The guy’s tone was stern, but his hand no longer drifted toward his weapon.

  “May I?” James waved toward where Waylon stood talking to the police officer.

  The agent nodded, and James walked past him, keeping a grip on the waistband of his oversized pants.

  “I’m sorry for the trouble,” Waylon was saying to the officer, “but we already had the guilty party call in and offer to make restitution.”

  The cop frowned. “They still fled the scene. That’s a crime in our books.”

  “We make allowances in the interest of keeping his or her identity secret. You know what the media is like.”

  “I do.” The cop frowned. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He waved a hand at the smashed cars.

  “Thank you, officer.”

  A stiff nod, and the policeman walked away.

  “Director?” the agent who had followed James over spoke up.

  Waylon turned and his eyes widened. “Mr. Huntsman.”

  “Director. Excuse the intrusion.”

  Waylon was looking him over. “Have I hired you?” His expression was somewhere between amusement and alarm.

  “I didn’t think you hired the magical.”

  “I don’t. What can I do for you?”

  “Do you know what happened here?”

  “Rowan said Era had a mishap. We’re just the go between on this one. The Elemental Offices will make restitution, but the insurance companies like to have a report from law enforcement. You see, the work isn’t as glamorous as you might think.”

  “So much for that career choice.”

  Waylon gave him a smile. “Do you have some information for me?”

  James waved a hand at the cars, but had to cut the gesture short to catch his pants. “It was my brothers.”