The Blood Alchemist (The Final Formula Series, Book 2)

by Becca Andre

  “I think so. We can’t leave them out there with my bullets.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “It’s just…”

  “They’re family. I’m sure it hurts, but in the end, I think you’re better off. You have a new family.” I bumped his shoulder with mine. “Even if Rowan is checking out your butt on the sly.”

  James snorted. “No, he’s checking out yours.”

  I frowned, knowing he was right. Every time I was around Rowan, the barriers seemed to fall a little more. “I don’t understand why.”

  He straightened and turned to face me. “Do I really need to explain it? He still has it for you.”

  “After what I did to the girl who’s a daughter to him in every way but blood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he tell you this?” I glanced up, trying to read James’s expression, but he turned away. “James?”

  “There was an…incident. My fault, despite what Rowan claims. I pulled him into my world and things got ugly fast.”

  “Your world? You mean hell?”

  “Whatever it is, the living aren’t supposed to go there. I almost killed him, Ad.”

  “And that’s when you learned that he can’t travel through the portal?”

  “Yes. It shames me to talk of it, even if he did forgive me.”

  I gripped his biceps, though it was Rowan I wanted to hug. All the Elements had been so good to James.

  “But in the process,” James continued, “he had his soul laid bare to me. He cares. Still. And that was after the funeral parlor.” He finished in a whisper.

  I didn’t know what to say. James had been in love with me, and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he still was. Yet he also loved me enough to want me happy. It reminded me of Lydia and how she’d tried to do the same thing. I blinked my eyes, longing to rub at the pain in my chest. It wouldn’t do any good. The pain wasn’t physical.

  “Hey, James.” Era stood below us, her white dress standing out against all the black and jewel tones the rest of the crowd wore. “Come here?”

  James gave her a wave, then turned to me.

  “Go on,” I said. “Crowds really aren’t my thing.”

  “I know.”

  I realized that was why he’d brought me up here. Without a word, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but that hadn’t gone over so well last time.

  He hugged me back, then gave me a puzzled looked when I released him. “What was that for?”

  “Just for being you.”

  “Okay. Think about what I said?” He didn’t wait for a response before descending the steps to join Era. She led him over to a group of young women and I smiled. Was she showing him off or setting him up?

  My eyes drifted over the crowd, and even though every man in the room wore a dark suit, I picked out Rowan easily. Maybe it was the red hair, though from this distance, the dark auburn wasn’t that distinctive. Donovan stood beside him, and they smiled at something one of the two women standing with them said. The one closest to Rowan laid a hand on his sleeve, and he leaned down to let her whisper in his ear. Whatever she said must have been funny because he laughed.

  I turned away from the rail and walked down the hall behind me. I still didn’t know what to think of the story James had shared with me. Had Rowan told him how he felt about me? Had he been hurt that much? I wanted to kick James’s butt for putting him in that kind of danger.

  Continuing along the hall, I could no longer hear the sound of individual voices, just a muffled mumble of the distant party. My heels clacked against the marble, the sound loud in the quiet. Partitions created little rooms to either side, offering a lot of wall space to hang framed pictures. I didn’t stop to admire any; I walked until I found a large floor-to-ceiling window.

  Sipping from my glass, I leaned against the window frame and watched the lights twinkle in the darkness. My mind drifted back to this afternoon in Rowan’s office. The things he’d said and the way he let me into his personal space gave me hope that James was right.

  I sighed and my breath fogged the window. Rowan had gotten one thing right. If my confidence was damaged, my alchemy would follow. But I didn’t see how Neil could be behind it. I had to be sabotaging myself. All that had happened in that room above Xander’s funeral parlor must have slowly worn away at me. Maybe it was denial that allowed me to retain my ability for a while.

  “Why are you up here all alone?”

  Heart in my throat, I turned with a gasp. Rowan stood a few feet behind me. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t even noticed his reflection in the glass.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He moved closer.

  I released a breath, not sure if it shook because he’d startled me, or simply because he was here.

  “I guess I was lost in thought,” I said.

  “About?” He unbuttoned his jacket and leaned against the window across from me. He seemed relaxed, at ease—just the opposite of how I felt.

  “What we spoke of in your office. Neil or not Neil. I have to find him.”

  “We have to find him.”

  I wasn’t going to argue semantics. “I could make Megan tell us, but how do I do that without alchemy?” I turned back to watch the lights beyond the window.

  Rowan’s fingers on my jaw made me jump again. With gentle pressure, he turned me to face him. “You once told me that you create magic from knowledge and skill. That hasn’t changed.”

  “But my formulas are failing,” I whispered.

  “Because you don’t believe.” He took his warm fingers from my cheek. “Remember, alchemists believe they can do the impossible.”

  I smiled. “You do listen to what I say.”

  “I told you I do.”

  “Yes, but what about the salve? It worked before and now it doesn’t. What about the antidote?” I finished in a whisper.

  “You just have to believe again.”

  I dropped my gaze. “There was a time when I think it would have pleased you if I lost my ability.”

  “No, that’s not true. But I do worry about your colleagues leading you astray.”

  “So, I’m weak-willed.”

  “Most certainly not.” He spoke with such heat that I looked up. “Maybe a little naive.”

  I looked away again. Thanks, Rowan.

  “You don’t agree?” he asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. I can’t do anything without alchemy.”

  “You could kiss me.”

  I turned to stare at him.

  “Or does that require a near death experience?”

  I frowned, though heat warmed my cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” His expression grew serious.

  “What’s wrong? My world is falling apart and you’re teasing me.”

  “I wasn’t teasing.” He frowned. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

  I resisted the urge to grab my hair and pull. “When I thought I’d die by my own bullet, I decided to spend my last ten seconds kissing you.”

  “Yes, I know. Why?”

  “Do I really need to explain it to you?” I pushed off the window and gave him my back. He caught me before I could take a step.

  His hands gripped my biceps and his warm breath brushed my cheek as he leaned down. “I would have done the same.”

  I turned to stare up him. “Why?”

  He held my gaze, fire burning in his eyes. “Do I really need to explain it to you?”

  Even if I could have voiced a response, he didn’t give me a chance before his mouth covered mine. He pushed me up against the glass, his body holding mine in place.

  A split-second’s hesitation, then I slipped my hands beneath his coat, sliding them up over
the silky smooth shirt that covered his chest. The hard contours under the warm fabric tensed against my exploring fingers. His own hands found my waist and trailed along my sides, raising goosebumps.

  He finally let me up for air and his blazing eyes met mine. I expected him to speak, but he simply watched me.

  “The window is cold.” I needed to say something. “This dress isn’t as substantial as it looks.”

  He took a step back, pulling me off the window. “This dress is driving me insane.”

  “If it offends you, I could take it off.”

  His lips curled into that smug grin. “I am so offended. Maybe we should go find a broom closet.”

  “Rowan!” I laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

  “If I wasn’t expected to lead a toast here in five minutes, I might surprise you.”

  “I’m really not surprised, though you would rumple this fine tuxedo.” I ran my hands along the lapels.

  “I thought you wanted me to wear jeans.”

  “Your ass looked great in them.”

  His smile grew and gold flickered through his irises.

  “Though my favorite was those tight little briefs I woke up and found you in.”

  He took my mouth once more, and I clung to him, my head spinning. If he offered the broom closet again, I would agree.

  A throat cleared.

  Rowan didn’t pull away, but finished the kiss before he turned to face the interruption. My cheeks heated when I realized it was James.

  “Cora sent me to collect you.” The corner of James’s mouth twitched. “It’s time for the toast.”

  “Tell her I’ll be right down.”

  “Will you?”

  “If not, stall.”

  “Rowan.” I gave him a frown. “This is Era’s big night.” I glanced at James. “He’ll be right down.”

  “I’ll go stall.” James turned and walked away.

  “He’s a good boy.” Rowan smiled, watching him go.

  “He said he almost killed you.”

  Rowan turned to face me. “He told you about that?”

  “Just that much.” I didn’t want to betray James’s confidence, but I did want to learn more about this incident between them.

  Rowan’s still glowing eyes shifted to the window. “I wish he’d let that go.”

  “What happened?”

  “He got angry and ended up stranding us both at this haunted crematorium.”

  “Haunted? Necros?”

  “No, ghosts.”

  I arched a brow. “That caused a problem for James?”

  “I wasn’t the only one who nearly died.”

  “James?”

  “He almost bled out.”

  “Rowan!” I smacked his chest. “God, I leave him in your care and he almost dies?”

  He smiled and cupped my cheek. “Addie, I—”

  “Rowan? Addie!” The voice was James’s, but the panicked tone wasn’t like him at all.

  I met Rowan’s eyes and saw that he’d picked up on the same thing.

  We turned toward the sound. Rowan caught my hand and we hurried along the partitions trying to find him.

  “James?” I called. “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t answer.

  As we looked in the last partition on the right, I stumbled to a stop. The air stilled in my lungs. James knelt on the floor at Ian’s feet.

  Chapter

  25

  “What are you doing?” My voice was little more than a whisper.

  “He felt me come through. I was afraid of that.” Ian shrugged. He had dressed for the occasion in an old-fashioned coat with tails. Really old fashioned. I wasn’t well versed on such things, but I’d guess vintage nineteenth century. Was it the same suit he’d been admiring in his wardrobe? Where did he find this stuff?

  “Rowan, don’t,” James said. “He’s given me a command. But he’s nothing like Clarissa. I don’t think I can resist even if you ash him.”

  Rowan released my hand. “Addie, exactly how many Alchemica Masters are necromancers?”

  “Just Neil, I think.” I took a breath. This was going to get ugly. “This isn’t Dmitri Rey. This is Ian Mallory.”

  A pause, then the air temperature soared. Even Ian took a hasty step back.

  “The lich king from the mausoleum?” Rowan demanded, his tone incredulous. “You’ve been working with the necromancer who tried to kill me?”

  I whirled to face him, my anger replacing my apprehension. “What was I supposed to do? You left me with nothing and commanded I heal Era. I had no ingredients, no lab. I knew it would take the Final Formula to heal her.”

  “And you gave it to him?”

  “I traded it—for his lab. Besides, I wasn’t about to experiment on Era until I was sure it would work.” I rounded on Ian. “And you. What the hell?” I waved a hand at James. “Let him go.”

  “I’m sorry, Addie. I really am.” He no longer smiled, his expression solemn, pained even.

  It occurred to me that he didn’t seem amazed by James. The grim was to the necro world what the Final Formula was to the alchemist’s. Yet Ian seemed to have…expected him.

  “Neil,” I whispered. “Oh my God, you’re still working for Neil.” My voice gained strength as I continued. “Why? He’s stunted. He can’t control you.”

  “He has knowledge of the only thing I still care about.”

  “The Final Formula,” Rowan said.

  “No,” I answered for Ian. My voice dropped to a whisper as everything fell in place. “His daughter.”

  Rowan frowned.

  “Tell me, Your Grace,” Ian said. “What would you do for the love of a daughter?”

  Rowan said nothing, but something in his expression said that Ian’s words had hit home.

  “I would have found her for you,” I said.

  “Unless you have access to the Nelson family secrets, you’ll never find her.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Rowan demanded. He no doubt recognized Xander’s last name. “What does—”

  A gunshot sounded from the direction of the Great Hall, quickly followed by another. Screams rang out and Rowan turned and ran for the rail. I looked up, in time to catch Ian’s eyes flicker white before fading back to blue.

  The liches. Not Neil’s liches, Ian’s.

  Rowan didn’t bother with the stairs; he vaulted the rail, dropping out of sight. I sucked in a breath. If the gunman noticed, he’d know Rowan was magical…

  I turned to face Ian, determined to stop this at its source. “I can find your daughter.” I pulled a vial from the front of my dress.

  “What’s that?”

  “It contains the essence of a necromancer’s power. One of the Nelson line.”

  “How will that help?”

  “It’ll be no trouble to make one of them talk. Right, James?”

  He was staring off toward the Great Hall, but those green eyes shifted to me when I said his name. He clearly wanted to go help, but Ian held him immobile.

  “Though I don’t think you trusted it to work at first and took matters into your own hands.” I held James’s gaze, willing him to remember how he’d attacked Rowan the first time we went to the Elemental Offices. If I could get him to do the same with Ian…

  James didn’t answer, but I had his attention.

  “Catch!” I tossed him the glass vial.

  For an instant, James did nothing.

  “Catch it!” Ian shouted.

  James moved, the motion so fast, I almost couldn’t follow it. He caught the vial and charged in the direction of his lunge before that action was complete. He tackled Ian and took him to the floor.

  I was already moving.
I pulled a second vial from my bra and smashed it on the floor beside the two men. A yellow fog rapidly enveloped them.

  “Stop!” Ian commanded.

  The smack of flesh striking flesh followed.

  “That’s rather pointless,” Ian said.

  The fog dissipated almost as quickly as it had appeared. James sat atop Ian, his fist pulled back for another punch.

  “I’m dead to pain. And I can’t be knocked unconscious.” Ian’s blue eyes shifted to me. “What was that?”

  “Extinguishing Dust—for necromancers.”

  James turned to look at me, his eyes on full glow.

  “Hold him,” I said to James. “He’s our way to Neil.”

  I turned and ran—or tried to in the damn heels. When I nearly twisted my ankle, I kicked them off and sprinted for the balcony rail. I stopped beside it, scanning the chaos below. The well-dressed crowd was fleeing toward the exits, leaving the area around the easels open. Rowan and Donovan stood beside Era, facing a man in black fatigues. Though I didn’t recognize the man, I knew he was one of Ian’s liches. He stood several yards away. Too far for Rowan to ash.

  The lich lifted his arm, aiming the gun he held at the three Elements. A gun I knew was loaded with my bullets.

  “No!” I ran down the stairs.

  One of Era’s large framed photos shot off the easel, spinning toward the gunman. He ducked the whirling projectile, and the heavy frame just missed him. It slammed into the wall twenty feet away with enough force to shatter the glass and wood.

  Donovan had closed the distance with the lich, but he had too much ground to cover. The man rose from his crouch and leveled the gun on him.

  Only halfway down the spiral staircase, I stopped and gripped the rail.

  The room had nearly emptied, so I not only saw, but heard the man pull the trigger.

  Click.

  He tried again and got the same result. “Fuck.” He ejected the magazine, and it fell to the ground with a clatter, spilling several bullets.