The Heir of Death - The Final Formula 3.5

by Becca Andre

  “Elysia!” Doug shouted. He stood where the portal had been.

  She was gone.

  Chapter 10

  James rolled to his hands and knees, not quite able to suppress the groan. He hurt all over, and not only where he had smacked the wall. Was this what electrocution felt like? He wanted to see if his skin was smoking, but his night vision was gone, at least until he recovered from being flash blinded.

  “He took her?” Doug whispered.

  “No, she took her. Alexander’s daughter.” James pushed himself to his feet with a grunt, then braced himself against the wall.

  “Bella Nelson? The one who sicced those dogs on us?”

  “Yes.”

  Doug frowned, his features visible in the light from his oil lamp. “Why did she take Elysia?”

  “From what I’ve gathered, she’s been watching over her since she was a child. I’m hoping that means she intends no harm, but who knows?”

  Doug didn’t look reassured. “What did she do to you?”

  “It wasn’t her. I don’t think I can pass through a portal while collared.”

  Lifting the lamp, Doug moved closer. “Damn.” His eyes were on James’s throat.

  “Does it look as bad as it feels?”

  Doug used a finger to tug the collar down a little, and James tried not to flinch. “It looks like the injuries you see around a ring or necklace when someone gets electrocuted.”

  “It felt like I got electrocuted.” James pressed a hand to his chest. “Good thing I don’t have a beating heart to stop.” He pushed off the wall and swayed on his feet.

  “There’s that.” Doug gripped his elbow. “Can you walk?”

  “Yes. Let’s keep going. If we can get this collar off me, I can go after her.”

  “The soul track thing. You can find her in the land of the dead?”

  “I can find her anywhere.”

  Doug grunted and guided him up the stairs, his hand still on James’s elbow. James wanted to tell him that he didn’t need help, but he wasn’t certain. He had never felt pain like that. He was pretty sure every nerve in his body had been singed. His immunity to fire had probably saved him from a worse fate. Unfortunately, he wasn’t immune to iron.

  They emerged from the stairs into the shadowed recesses of what might be a cellar. Ground-level windows around the perimeter of the room let in the daylight that had provided the illumination that drew them here. Thunder rumbled from nearby, but the scent of rain already hung heavy in the air.

  James stopped to lean against a pile of wooden crates. He would have liked to sit on them, but wasn’t sure they would hold his weight. He eyed the dilapidated steps across from them. “What is this place? The basement of an old house?”

  “Church,” Doug said from behind him.

  The hairs on the back of his neck rose, but James didn’t turn to face him. Instead, he gauged the distance to the steps. “How do you know?”

  “Because I had it built two centuries ago.”

  James sprang for the steps, but his injured body made him slow.

  “Stop,” Doug said.

  The compulsion hit, knocking James off balance. He caught himself on a short wooden partition to keep from ending up on the floor. He looked back over his shoulder, and Doug’s faded blue eyes met his, but the smile was very much Alexander’s.

  “Very cute using zombies to dig a wall out of my room. Where is Elysia?”

  “Gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “She figured out how to travel.”

  Alexander’s frown furrowed Doug’s brow. “She does feel…gone. She’s not in the mortal world.” His gaze shifted to James. “Why are you still here?”

  “I can’t cross over like this.” James touched his collar. “I tried.”

  “That looks painful.” Alexander smiled. “I’ll collect her later.” He waved a hand, dismissing the topic. “She must return to the mortal world eventually. And when she does, I will follow her to my brother.”

  James frowned. Did that mean that Alexander couldn’t control those he possessed when they were in the land of the dead?

  “First, I must deal with this one.” Alexander gestured at himself, or rather, Doug, then shook his head. “He must be such a disappointment to dear Xander.”

  James wanted to curl his lip at the way Alexander spoke of Doug’s father. It was the sappy-sweet tone a person used with a spoiled pet. It was also creepy as hell.

  “Come along, grim. The sooner I deal with him, the quicker I can collect her. No one defies the Deacon.”

  “May I command him?” a new voice asked from the stairs.

  James turned, keeping Alexander in his peripheral vision, and watched Neil enter the room from the stairs.

  Alexander chuckled. “Please.” He gestured for Neil to continue.

  Neil’s brown eyes met James’s, then went white. “Sit.”

  James’s legs folded and his butt hit the ground, kicking up a puff of dust. James glared at Neil. It appeared that he had already taken advantage of the spring rain. He was a necromancer now.

  Neil bounced on his toes. “Ha! It worked!” He grinned at James, his eyes having already reverted to brown.

  James came to his feet with a snarl.

  “Heel, dog,” Alexander said.

  Doug’s magic hit him so hard that James dropped to his haunches.

  “Really, Dunstan.” Alexander tsked. “You can’t tell him to sit without a stay.”

  “Sorry.” Neil actually blushed. “I’m a bit new to this.”

  Alexander shook his head, then gave Neil an indulgent smile. “It appears your potion was a success.”

  “An unconditional success.”

  “Huh.” Alexander didn’t look overly impressed. “When you collapsed on the floor, I figured you had poisoned yourself.”

  “My body was regenerating. I’m truly a necromancer now. Plus, I lost thirty pounds.” Neil patted his stomach. “I feel like I’m twenty-five again.”

  He did look younger. The faint lines around his eyes were gone, and he appeared thinner, though it was hard to tell through his alchemist’s robe.

  “I added the spring rain to your vial, as well,” Neil added.

  Alexander studied him a moment. “Very well, Dunstan. But know this, fail me and I will Make you.”

  “Fair enough.” Neil dipped his head in acceptance. “And when it works as I promised?”

  “I will teach you all you wish to know.” He forced Doug to turn toward the dark doorway to the catacombs. “Come along, grim.”

  They returned to Alexander’s crypt using the new—or would it be more accurate to say, the old doorway into the chamber. James could see why the guy was pissed. Stones and bodies lay scattered around the entrance, the dust coating one end of the burgundy area rug.

  Alexander didn’t stop to examine the mess. He walked Doug across the carpet, tracking through the dirt, to his open sarcophagus. Stepping up on the low dais, he turned to face them.

  “Dunstan, remove the grim’s collar.”

  “Deacon?” Neil didn’t sound so certain.

  “Do not question me.”

  Neil pulled a key from his pocket and moved over to do as commanded.

  James grinned, noting the way Neil’s hands weren’t as steady as they should be. James considered a few things he might say to up Neil’s anxiety even more when the padlock snapped open. His senses returned to full strength, and he tipped back his head, momentarily lost in the euphoria of being whole.

  The collar slid away, and James lashed out without warning, his claws catching the front of Neil’s robe as he tried to jump back. The collar hit the ground with a metallic clank.

  “Stop!” Doug’s voice echoed aroun
d the room.

  The command hit James, preventing the lunge he was about to make. Denied his prey, he snarled.

  “See!” Neil cried. He pulled away the hand he had pressed to his stomach and showed Alexander the blood on his palm. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a lot of blood.

  “I barely scratched you,” James said. “Come closer. I want to see the color of your intestines.”

  “Enough,” Alexander cut in. “Grim, restrain Douglas. Hold him here until I give a command.”

  James gritted his teeth and walked across the floor to obey the compulsion. He stepped up behind Doug and gripped his arms above the elbows. An instant later, Doug’s arms flexed as he tried to pull away.

  “Doug?” James asked. Had Alexander left him?

  “Yes.” Doug twisted in James’s hold. “Damn,” Doug whispered when he couldn’t get free.

  James now understood why Alexander had ordered the collar removed. As strong as Doug was, he couldn’t defeat the strength of the dead.

  “Sorry,” James muttered through gritted teeth. Anger seethed inside him with no outlet.

  “I get it, trust me. Nice work on my cousin. You’re fast.”

  “Not fast enough.”

  Neil had pulled his robe open to examine the minor slashes on his stomach, but glanced up to give them a glare. A portal opened, and Alexander stepped out before Neil could comment.

  Alexander regarded Neil. Are you going to live? Something between annoyance and bemusement colored his tone.

  “Animal wounds are prone to infection.”

  That’s truly the least of your worries at the moment.

  Neil stopped probing his stomach and looked up.

  “Release James,” Doug whispered.

  Alexander abruptly whirled to face them. What are you doing, my son?

  Doug didn’t answer.

  A strange huh-huh-huh noise came from Alexander’s hood as he attempted to laugh. You took me within you; you are part of me now. Your soul, your magic cannot be used against its own.

  James felt Doug stiffen, but he didn’t speak. So much for hoping Doug could command Alexander.

  Alexander turned back to Neil. That applies to you, as well, Dunstan. Though my blood gift will not give me control of your physical form, your active power will not work on me.

  “I have no desire to command you, Deacon.” Neil pulled a vial of golden liquid from a pocket along his ribs. “I only want to be your student. In exchange, I offer the Final Formula.”

  This potion will return my body to me?

  “Yes, but I should warn you,” Neil said, “the process is uncomfortable.” He pulled the cap off the vial. “Okay, it hurts like hell, but it passes quickly.”

  I haven’t felt pain in nearly a century and a half.

  “Then no worries.” He offered Alexander the vial.

  James wondered if Neil had added anything extra to the vial’s contents. Addie would have. Alexander was an idiot to take anything this man brewed, but his ego probably didn’t allow him to see that. James couldn’t decide if it was in his best interest to mention it or not.

  A moment’s consideration, then Alexander took the vial in one skeletal hand, the visible bones yellowed with age and held together by shriveled muscles and tendons. “Grim. If it proves that Dunstan has deceived me, rip out his soul.”

  This time, James smiled when the compulsion hit. “My pleasure.”

  Doug chuckled, but made no comment.

  James watched Neil, expecting him to vacillate and offer Alexander some excuse as to why he shouldn’t take the Formula. He didn’t.

  Alexander tipped back his head and poured the vial’s contents into his mouth—or what remained of it. With his head tipped back, his lower face was exposed, and it was in as bad a shape as his hand. Bone and tendon, with very little skin were all that remained. Pouring the potion down his throat was symbolic at best, but Ian couldn’t have been in any better shape—actually, Ian had been dead longer—and the potion worked for him.

  The vial fell from Alexander’s fingers, bouncing on the area rug without breaking, then Alexander followed it to the carpet. He knelt on the floor, doubled over as if he really was in pain.

  “Deacon?” Neil asked after several minutes had passed without him moving.

  Alexander straightened, then held his hands before him. Flesh now covered them, and he rolled them front to back several times as if unable to believe what he was seeing. Then he reached up in his hood to feel his face.

  “Deacon?” Neil repeated.

  Alexander abruptly shoved himself to his feet. “I need a mirror.”

  “I found one upstairs,” Neil said, smiling. “It’s in a restroom at the back of the first floor. I—”

  A portal whispered open and Alexander was gone.

  “I’ve got to learn to do that,” Neil muttered.

  James tried to move, but found he still could not. “Order me to move,” he whispered to Doug.

  “Move.”

  James didn’t feel a compulsion with the command, but tried to follow the command, anyway. He couldn’t. “Didn’t work.”

  “Sorry. He’s a hell of a lot stronger than me.”

  Neil was watching the exchange with a bemused expression. “He’s not happy with you, cousin. I’d say you screwed any chance you had of getting out of this alive—not that you had much hope after I told him about your little problem.”

  “What are you talking about?” Doug demanded.

  “I got a copy of your test results from that fertility clinic my uncle so discreetly sent you to. Alexander wasn’t impressed. It seems you failed to pass.”

  James looked up at the emphasis he placed on the word. “Failed.” Neil had created an elaborate ruse to harvest blood containing the essence of failure. And he had used Addie to do it. “That’s what you needed it for.”

  Neil met his gaze and smiled. “Do you think I would have even been considered for Deacon otherwise?”

  “You did all that—the bullets, the sabotaged potions—just so you could show Alexander that Doug’s sterile?”

  Doug’s biceps flexed beneath his sleeves. “You messed with my test results?” Doug tried to take a step forward, but James pulled him back—not that he wanted to stop him from pummeling Neil.

  “No, I actually made you sterile. With alchemy.” Neil grinned. “Go ahead, slam me some more like you always did in front of your father. Laugh at your poor stunted cousin who has to resort to fake magic to keep himself sane. Well, that fake magic is why you’re shooting blanks.”

  “That’s low,” James said.

  Neil snorted. “Are you defending Doug? You know he wants to screw your girlfriend. Well, he has screwed your girlfriend.”

  Well aware of that fact, James made a conscious effort not to tighten his grip on Doug’s arms. His claws were out. “When you learn to travel, move fast,” he told Neil. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  As if the mention of the other side had summoned it, a portal opened. A figure in dark robes stepped through, his golden hair catching in the lamp light. James didn’t think he would ever be pleased to see Ian, but he was wrong.

  “Would you please command me to move?” James asked.

  “Later, grim.” Dimples appeared in his cheeks as he smiled at Neil. “It seems you have become my new pupil.”

  James’s mouth fell open. It wasn’t Ian; it was Alexander. He had known they were twins, but no one had mentioned that they were identical—right down to the dimples.

  “You’ll teach me to travel?” Neil asked.

  “In time. First, you must learn the basics.”

  “Animation?” Neil asked. He turned toward the new doorway. With his back to James, his eyes weren’t visible, but it was clear he was
using his magic when one of the bodies rose to its feet.

  “Given that you are in your thirties, I should laugh at you trying to impress me with one zombie, but considering that it’s the first you’ve ever animated, and that it’s little more than bones, that actually shows some potential.”

  “Thank you, Deacon.”

  “Why don’t you tell him what else you can do?” Doug spoke up. “Tell him about how you used alchemy to make me sterile. Me, the last Nelson of his line.”

  Alexander turned to Neil, one brow lifting.

  Neil shrugged. “I had to get in to see you somehow. Besides, does it really matter? You can lead the Family again.”

  “But the Family must be strong, and my line must flourish.”

  “Your line has only gotten stronger, and will continue to—once I break your brother’s curse.”

  Alexander stilled.

  “What’s he talking about?” Doug whispered.

  James didn’t answer. He suspected Neil was walking a very fine line.

  “I researched the Family,” Neil continued. “The records are buried, but they are there for those who know where to look.”

  “You’re a thorough man, Dunstan.” Alexander’s tone was cool.

  “Yes, I am. A very talented one, as well. Who better to stand at your side and guide you in this modern age? You haven’t even seen what New Magic can do.”

  Alexander studied him, his vibrant blue eyes calculating as he seemed to weigh the pros and cons.

  For his part, Neil stood calmly, awaiting his answer. He had to have put something in the Final Formula. Something subtle. Neil wasn’t this brave. He had an ace up his sleeve, but James couldn’t see it.