The Final Formula

by Becca Andre

  “A gesture?” The Flame Lord’s voice sounded from the depths of his hood. “That’s not necessary.” My nearness didn’t seem to upset him. Over-confident bastard.

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I pulled the glass from my pocket and held it up for his inspection, rotating it so he could see the stylized flame before I set it on the table beside his book. I took a step closer, an alchemically-altered bang snap between the thumb and middle finger of my opposite hand. I held the novelty firework gently. It had been an adventure to get the correct ratio of explosive silver fulminate, but this delivery system provided better accuracy than blowing an alchemic powder in his face. Good thing I’d taken the trouble; the man stood a good foot taller than me.

  “Addie?”

  I looked up into this hood. “Oh, shit,” I muttered as I understood.

  He chuckled and pushed my hood back. “Decided to return it?”

  “Rowan?”

  He pushed his own hood off his head revealing the man I’d met in the kitchen the night before, except in this brighter light his hair wasn’t brown, but a dark shade of auburn.

  Oh, hell. I resisted the urge to start gagging like a cat with a hairball.

  He grinned at me.

  “Addie?” James sounded confused.

  I remembered my purpose, and before Rowan could do more than glance in James’s direction, I raised my hand and snapped my fingers. The paper-wrapped firework exploded and my Perfect Assistant Dust puffed up into Rowan’s face. I held my ground, watching his expression. The Dust had worked fine when I tested it on James, but not every magical person reacted in same way.

  Rowan coughed and stepped back. Confusion lit his gray eyes, but not only confusion. An orange ring sprang to light around each pupil and began to spread through the iris. He’d called on his elemental power of fire.

  Before I could give my first command, James leapt forward and caught Rowan by the front of his gray robes. The momentum carried them backward, and they slammed into a bookcase, books thumping to the floor around their feet.

  “James!” Apparently, he didn’t respect the powerful either.

  For a heartbeat, the pair stood toe to toe. I couldn’t see James’s face, but I could see Rowan’s. He didn’t look angry, so when he attacked, he took both of us by surprise.

  A couple of rapid jabs knocked James back and a sweeping kick took the boy’s legs from under him. James landed on his butt at my feet.

  “Stop!” I shouted.

  Rowan froze and his eyes shifted to me.

  “No magic.” My voice echoed in the sudden silence.

  Rowan’s eyes widened and the orange faded away. It seemed that my Perfect Assistant Dust worked on an Element as well as it worked on a grim.

  James sprang to his feet, but I stepped in front of him and passed him my cloak before he could do anything else. I expected a servant or two to come running, but none did.

  I crossed my arms and the movement drew Rowan’s attention. It also caused my split sleeves to part and reveal the tattoos encircling my upper arms.

  “Shit,” Rowan muttered.

  “See? A gesture of good faith.” I waved a hand at the glass sitting innocently on the table beside me. “Have a seat, Your Grace. This won’t take long.”

  The cords in his neck stood out, but he pulled a chair from beside the table, the legs scraping across the floor. “What did you give me?” He settled into the chair.

  “Do you want the formula?” I asked. He answered with a glare so I continued. “It’s just a little something to encourage your cooperation. I didn’t think you’d be willing to chat with me otherwise.”

  “Aren’t you a brilliant girl.”

  “Well, brilliant is stretching it.” I gave him a smile. “But I can see where a one-trick pony like you might think that.” I pulled a slim vial from my bodice and unscrewed the lid. A floral scent rose from the viscous liquid. “Drink this.” I offered the vial to him.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he took the vial. “What—” He didn’t get to finish as he tipped back his head and drank the dark blue liquid.

  “Truth serum,” I said. The unique properties of my formula opened options not available with other brews. A basic truth serum left the subject able to respond only to direct questions. Otherwise, they couldn’t speak. That wasn’t the case with mine. Rowan could question me, make statements, or cuss me until blue in the face. That freedom would allow for a more interesting exchange.

  He dropped the vial and it shattered on the floor. “I won’t betray my brethren, alchemist.” He gripped the arms of his chair and a flicker of orange appeared in his eyes once more.

  James stepped forward, but I caught his arm. “Would you quit?”

  He stopped and turned his frown from Rowan to me.

  “What have you done to him?” Rowan demanded. “He’s magical.” The orange had faded again.

  I glanced up at James. His look of surprise shifted back to a frown. “She’s given me nothing,” he said, his voice just this side of a growl. “I’m hers of my own will.”

  Weird way to put it. “I didn’t come here to chat about who my friends are,” I said.

  “Why are you here?” Rowan’s knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on his chair.

  “To ask a question. Why you were at the Alchemica the night it burned?”

  “I received an invitation from your…,” he glanced at my arms, “Grand Master.”

  “What?” He couldn’t lie to me, but his answer made no sense. “The Grand Master invited you to the Alchemica?”

  “He invited all four of us. Shall I summon the others to vouch for me? They all saw the invitation. White linen embossed in gold. Talk about pretentious.”

  I frowned. “I don’t need verification. At the moment, your word is enough.” I tried for a confident tone, but his revelation put a dent in my armor. “You’re certain the invitation came from the Grand Master?”

  “You mean Aemilius Archimedes?” Rowan snorted. “You know, if you alchemists insist on hiding behind a false name, you might want to consider a more plausible one.”

  False names? I didn’t remember that.

  “Though he did scrawl Emil across the bottom of the invitation,” Rowan said.

  If he said anything after that, I missed it. Emil. The name echoed in my head, and I pictured the sleeveless white robes and graying-blond hair. Thick fingers with neatly trimmed nails. A kind wrinkled face and an expressive mouth.

  “Addie?”

  I discovered James’s hand on my shoulder. “I’m okay,” I whispered. The ricochet of memories settled.

  “Too many potions over the years?” Rowan asked.

  I gave him a glare. “What happened to the Alchemica?” No need to drag this out.

  “The papers said an explosion in the lab took down the building.”

  “I’ve been there. The labs are intact. The explosion took place in the auditorium.” I suddenly realized he’d diverted the question without lying. Impressive under a truth serum. The Flame Lord was strong willed and no idiot. I wished I had more time to argue with him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “No, I didn’t burn down your Alchemica. If not for my brother Element throwing up a wall of earth, we would have been among the injured.”

  “Injured? There were no injured. They all died!”

  “You didn’t.”

  I clenched my fists. “I saw you there when I lay in the rubble. What happened?” I hated the pleading note in my voice, but those images of Emil had hit me hard. I now had someone to mourn.

  “All I know is that there was an explosion.” His eyes met mine, and I prayed he couldn’t see the depth of my despair. He didn’t know anything. This effort had been for nothing.

  I turned to James. “Let’s go.”

  “That’s it?” R
owan sounded surprised.

  I faced him again. “Would you prefer I stay and question you some more?”

  “Until this potion wears off? Yes.” He smiled and I resisted the urge to step back. Clearly, he found it amusing that he could turn me to ash with a thought.

  I refused to let him intimidate me. “That’s not the only potion on my person.”

  His eyes slid down over my black robes, lingering on the snug bodice. Heat rose in my cheeks as I remembered the night before.

  “I may be a one-trick pony, but it’s a doozy of a trick. Are you certain you wouldn’t like to stay?” His lips curved into a smug smile.

  Why hadn’t I recognized what that cocky attitude meant last night? The man hadn’t been remotely concerned about my presence in his kitchen.

  “Tempting, but no thank you, Your Grace.” I turned away and James dropped the cloak around my shoulders.

  “You thought I burned the Alchemica,” Rowan said.

  I glanced over my shoulder as I hooked my cloak.

  “And if you’d been right?”

  I turned to meet his stare. “I would have avenged them.”

  “By killing me.” He looked more amused than concerned. Bastard.

  “You don’t think I would?”

  He studied me a moment. “I think you’d try.”

  “Ah, you don’t think I could.” I snorted. “Tell me Rowan, are you immortal?”

  He gripped the arms of his chair. “Yes.” The cords in his neck stood out again. He hadn’t wanted to reveal that.

  I blinked. Whoa. How could that be? “Magic hasn’t been back long enough for you to know that.”

  He glared at me, and the orange ring ignited around his pupils. A muscle in his jaw ticked and then the light winked out. I still had him under my control, but with the strength of his will, he’d probably break free before the potion wore off.

  I gave him a smirk of my own. “Thank you for your time, Your Grace.” I didn’t bother to curtsy before I led James to the double doors. Hand on the knob, I looked back, “Don’t move, and don’t call for help.”

  “This isn’t over, alchemist.” He glared at me from his seat.

  “Sure it is.” I smiled. “Nice to see you again, Rowan.” I pulled the door open and left the room.

  “That was completely insane,” James muttered as we started down the hall.

  “You mentioned that earlier.” I lengthened my stride to keep up with him. “And who are you to criticize?”

  “You weren’t quick enough. He drew power.”

  “So you grabbed him?”

  We walked into the foyer and I gave the receptionist a smile and a wave. She returned my smile, unaware that I’d left her lord and master immobile in his posh office. James held the door for me, and we stepped out onto the porch.

  “For someone whose blood is toxic, you jump into a fight awfully quick.” I glanced over and caught his frown. “What if someone scratched you?”

  “I don’t bleed that easily.”

  A cool October breeze tugged at my hair, and I pulled my cloak closer. I followed James down the front stairs, our shoes clomping on the wooden steps. He slowed to let me catch up when we reached the front walk. I expected him to speak, but he didn’t.

  “And?” I prompted.

  He pulled his keys from his front pocket, and they jingled before he closed his fist around them. “There needs to be iron present.”

  “Iron? As in cold iron?” I smiled, but he kept his eyes on the sidewalk. “You don’t look like a fairy.”

  “Not like that.” His frown deepened, but he didn’t elaborate.

  Damn, why did he clam up anytime the conversation touched on his magical abilities? I didn’t get it, and I never would if he wouldn’t talk.

  We started across the small paved lot heading for the car. “Will you tell me more?” Waiting for him to talk to me wasn’t working. I decided to try honesty. “Old Magic fascinates me.”

  The keys jiggled and he gripped them again. “My blood has an affinity for iron. If it pierces my skin, my blood is drawn to it and will follow it back through the opening.”

  “Only iron? What if something else pierces your skin? Say, a finger nail?”

  “I don’t bleed.”

  “No way.” I stopped by the passenger door. “Are you serious?”

  James grunted and bent to unlock my door.

  “You’re so tight-lipped about this. Why?”

  He opened my door and held it. His fingers tapping the window in what might be annoyance. “I’m not human. That makes some people…uneasy.”

  “Not me.”

  “Because you’re too curious to know better.”

  “Are you implying that I lack sense?”

  He finally smiled. “Enough questions. Get in. We need to get out of here.”

  “How can you not bleed unless cut by iron?” Talk about some handy magic. “Will you show me?”

  “Later.” He gestured at the passenger seat. “We need to go before the alarm is raised. A servant could walk into his office at any moment.”

  True. I got in and leaned over to unlock his door.

  “How’d His Grace know you were magical?” I asked when James slid in behind the wheel. “Did you let your eyes glow?” I hadn’t been able to see from where I stood.

  He fired up the car and began to back out of our parking space. “My strength, I guess.”

  I hadn’t considered that. “And speaking of strength.” I hesitated not wanting to insult him. “Was he stronger than you?”

  “He appears to know some martial arts or something.”

  “You don’t know?”

  He concentrated on his driving and didn’t look over. “He won’t get the drop on me again.”

  I smiled and leaned over to pat his knee. “I’m sure he won’t. And I’ll quit pestering you about your magic.”

  “Uh-huh.” He wasn’t buying that either.

  “It was still a foolish risk. What if he’d incinerated you?”

  “Hellhounds don’t burn.”

  “Seriously? How—”

  “Didn’t you say you weren’t going to pester me?” The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

  I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms. “Fine.”

  We drove half a block in silence.

  “The Flame Lord didn’t destroy the Alchemica,” he said. “Now what?”

  Good question. “I’ll think of something.”

  “I don’t doubt that.” He chuckled and reached for the radio dial.

  I propped my elbow on the armrest and watched the Elemental Offices shrink in the side view mirror. Now what?

  Chapter

  6

  The wall clock in my attic workshop read 1:00 p.m., and I had little to show for five hours of work aside from a clean room. The smell of bleach still hung in the air, and for the first time in months, the tables were uncluttered. Vials of purified ingredients sat in racks, labeled and alphabetized. Clean glassware rested in neat rows on the plastic shelves I’d picked up at the discount store. Even my prized fractionating column sparkled with cleanliness, ready for its next application. If only I knew what that was.

  I straightened and rubbed my lower back. I’d only finished half my bullet quota for the day, having procrastinated with the cleaning. I needed to get busy, but I just wasn’t with it. James and I had gotten in late yesterday afternoon, and though I’d gone to bed early, I’d managed only a few fitful hours of sleep. I’d skipped lunch, remaining in my room rather than braving the kitchen. Hunger I could handle; James’s brothers I preferred to avoid. I knew they’d have something suggestive to say about our two-day absence.

  In truth, avoiding the Huntsman boys wasn’t the only reason I hid in my workshop. All my leads had run dry, and I had no idea how t
o recover my lost memories. My future held nothing beyond filling bullets destined to take the lives of innocent animals. I braced my hands on the table and bowed my head. I must have missed something. Some clue. Some formula. Something.

  “Addie!” A thump on the door accompanied George’s voice.

  I growled under my breath. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone? “I’m busy!” I picked up the syringe and selected a bullet.

  The door opened, but I didn’t look up. I clenched my teeth and sunk the needle into the soft plastic of the modified Nosler tip. “If you want these finished by four, you’d better leave me alone.” I depressed the syringe, careful not to overfill the tiny reservoir.

  “Which is why you’re going to keep this meeting short.”

  Meeting? I looked up.

  “Hello, Addie.” Rowan, Lord of Flames and Arrogance, gave me a smile and stepped past George. “So nice to see you again.”

  With an undignified squeak, I dropped the bullet and syringe, and took a hasty step back. My butt bumped the wall, leaving me trapped. Rowan stopped on the opposite side of the table, a predatory gleam in his gray eyes. He wore a dark sweater and slacks, but the casual clothing didn’t make him any less intimidating.

  “This guy claims to know you and insisted,” George waved a one-hundred-dollar bill, “that I bring him to you. Do you really think I’d interrupt otherwise? Gotta get what work I can out of your scrawny ass before you run off with James again.”

  I gave George a look that expressed my feelings about him and his reasons for the interruption.

  “Considering your vindictive nature,” Rowan spoke up, “I’m wondering how this guy is still alive.” He jerked a thumb in George’s direction.

  “I need the job. Ingredients for truth serum don’t come cheap.”

  George sneered and hooked his thumbs in the front belt loops of his camos. “Don’t let her fool you. She likes to pretend to be an alchemist, but she keeps getting kicked out of the academy.”

  “Academy?” Rowan eyed me.

  “Master Boris over on Ninth.” George waved a hand in that direction. “I paid him off to take her back once. He flat refused the second time.”