The Alchemist's Flame (16 page)

“It worked?” James asked. “Permanently?”

She lifted her head and for just an instant, her eyes flickered white. James grunted and she laughed. “I think so,” she said.

He gave her a sheepish grin, then pulled us both into a hug, all three of us laughing.

I glanced over at Ian. He was watching us, a smile dimpling his cheeks before he turned away to begin cleaning up.

“So spill,” James said, releasing us. “Why your blood?”

I had never told him because it wasn’t a talent I could control. But maybe that was about to change. “I’m the azoth.”

“What?”

“The universal—”

“I know what it is, what do you mean you
are
the azoth.”

“Just that.” I laughed at his puzzled expression. “I know. I didn’t believe it, either—which might have been part of the problem.”

“How does it work?”

“I can imbue my blood with certain attributes. In Elysia’s case, the power to undo the magic that held her own in check.”

“You should make some extra. After all, Neil has the Extinguishing Dust formula.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I have to brew each remedy on a case-by-case basis, tailored to that individual.”

James’s brows rose. “Your new burn salve.”

“Yes.” I smiled at his quick mind. “The azoth offers great potential, but it’s limiting—and I’m still learning to use it.”

He cocked his head, studying me. A faint glow lit his green eyes. “That’s why you glow so bright, like a necromancer. You’re Old Magic.”

I opened my mouth to deny the claim, but Ian beat me to it.

“No. She is an alchemist. Without her alchemical talents, she would be simply human.”

“But the brightness of her soul,” James insisted.

“She is no more magical than the spark of life that becomes a child is magical. You don’t see magic, you see life.”

James frowned. “Then why are some brighter than others?”

If I wasn’t so interested in this conversation, I would have been stunned by James’s willingness to talk with Ian.

“With the exception of Addie, necromancers are the brightest of all,” James continued. “Elysia is blinding.”

“Does it have to do with our blood?” I asked Ian. “That’s how I tap into the azoth, and you said Elysia has a blood gift—though I don’t understand exactly what that is.”

“It’s called a blood gift because the blood must be physically used,” Elysia said.

“What does this magic actually do?”

“It depends on the necromancer. Most abilities are so rare, they’ve been reduced to myth and legend.” She glanced at James.

“The ability to make a lich with only your blood,” he said.

“Yes.” She gave him a sheepish look. “Another example is the soul bond.”

“Not every necromancer can create a soul bond?” I asked.

“No.”

“Huh.” I hadn’t realized that. “If a weaker necromancer had found James, they couldn’t have taken him?”

“They could, but they would have to actively control him.”

I thought about the time Clarissa had taken him. She had kept him in a steel cooler when not controlling him directly. Although, from what I understood, Clarissa was no minor talent. Perhaps Neil had forbidden her from taking James so he could take him for himself once the Final Formula made him whole. All that was a moot point now; I had screwed up his plans.

Ian took up the explanation. “Most necromancers powerful enough to create a lich can also create a soul bond, but it must be done during creation. Those with a blood gift can use their blood to create a soul bond at any time.”

“By forcing the victim to drink their blood.” I kept my attention on Ian, trying not to think about Elysia binding James that way. “I’ll probably regret this, but how is a lich made?”

“It depends on the power of the necromancer.”

“Taking the heart verses using your own blood?”

“A necromancer with the ability can trap and bind a soul at the moment of death, but determining that moment is difficult.”

I cringed. “So the heart is taken to…define that moment?”

“Yes.”

I knew a necromancer had to kill to make a lich, but hearing the reason for the method made it seem so much more sinister. I suppressed a shiver, remembering well those jars of hearts on the shelves of Ian’s crypt. Which reminded me…

“Why do the hearts continue to beat?”

“They do not know they are dead,” Ian said.

Goosebumps rose on my arms.

“The heart also serves as the anchor for the bound soul. That is why you were able to destroy Neil’s liches by destroying their hearts. A weakness of that method of Making.”

A weakness because Ian was Made that way or because the liches he Made could be destroyed that easily? As for the first, it occurred to me that I didn’t know what he had done with his own heart once we took it from Xander’s cooler. And another more morbid thought: did it beat still?

“So how does it work to Make using only blood?”

“A necromancer with that kind of power can feed his blood into one nearly dead. A link is established, and the necromancer will feel the moment of death and can then bind the soul.”

The nearly dead. That was a bit too close to alive for me. I swallowed. “Does the heart beat still?”

“I have never witnessed such a Making,” Ian said.

“But you’re a lich king,” Elysia said. “You can Make with your blood.”

“
That’s
what a lich king is?” I asked. “I thought it was just a lich who could Make other liches.”

Ian didn’t answer me, his attention still on Elysia. “I know this comes as a surprise, but I didn’t Make anyone while I lived.”

“Got me beat,” Elysia said, then turned to me. “And in answer to your question, Kari showed up as dead on the hospital monitors. I would think a heartbeat would be one of the first things they checked.”

Ian frowned at her. “You performed a Making?”

“Don’t give her any crap,” James said. “The girl was pregnant and dying. It was the only way we could come up with to save the baby.”

A muscle ticked in Ian’s jaw. “And you let her do this? With no training?”

“He didn’t know I was untrained. If you want to yell at someone, yell at me,” Elysia said. “But I’m not as inept as you seem to think.”

“Oh, really?” The corner of his mouth curled, dimpling his cheek. “I guess I’ll have to take the grim from you to prove a point.” His vibrant blue eyes shifted to James, then went white.

James pulled back his lips and snarled.

Chapter
16

“W
hat are you doing?” I asked Ian. One minute we’re getting along, discussing necromancy, and the next, he takes James. “Let him go.”

Ian ignored me. “James.” His white eyes returned to Elysia. “Take a seat on that stool. Remain there until I tell you otherwise.”

James growled, but did as told.

“Ian,” I said. “Don’t make me throw a potion at you.”

“I’m only testing Elysia,” Ian said, his attention still on her. “She needs to understand that there is a difference between having power and knowing how use it.”

Elysia’s eyes faded to white. “James, come here.”

James bowed his head and gripped the edge of the stool. “I can’t.”

Ian arched a fair brow.

Elysia’s white eyes shifted to Ian. “Release him,” she spoke between clenched teeth.

In the next moment, James had Ian pinned to the far wall, his fist clenched around Ian’s throat.

We’ve been over this
, Ian’s voice spoke in our minds.
I can’t feel pain, and cutting off my air will not harm me.

James released him with a snarl.

“You commanded me, not him. That’s cheating,” Ian said to Elysia. “If you cannot hold on to one that you have bound, how can you know anything about something as complex as Making?”

Elysia crossed her arms. “The baby would have died if I hadn’t Made the mother.”

“
You
could have died,” Ian said, his tone softening.

“Elysia.” James complained.

“Don’t lecture me.” She gave Ian a final frown, then turned to face James. “I know it was risky and stupid and irresponsible and a bunch of other negative adjectives, but we couldn’t do
nothing
.”

James raked a hand through his hair. “You should have told me you were in danger.”

“It worked.” She gave him a small smile. “He’s the sweetest thing. When you see him, you’ll agree that the risk was worth it.”

James sighed, but didn’t argue.

“This child was born of the dead?” Ian asked

“You say that with surprise,” I spoke up. “I imagine there have been quite a few babies born after their mothers died.” I fell silent, suddenly remembering that Ian’s wife had died during childbirth.

“Not to a body animated by necromancy,” Ian said. He didn’t seem bothered by my reference, so maybe his wife had died from complications of childbirth and not during it.

“What are you saying?” Elysia asked.

“The situation bears watching,” Ian said.

“I intend to.”

“Well, thanks for the lesson,” I cut in, hoping to forestall another argument. “It’s been enlightening—and also gross and horrifying—but I’m not sure a discussion on lich Making clarifies what James is seeing.” Why some souls were brighter than others. I glanced over at my former sidekick. “What do you see when you look at Ian?”

The corner of his mouth curled.

“Soul-wise,” I hurried to add.

“He’s nearly as bright as Elysia.”

I grunted. James must truly see souls. Ian was dead. He had no blood.

“She’s stronger than I am,” Ian said. “The only reason I can get the better of her is because I know what I’m doing.”

Elysia frowned at him. “I’m still not letting you teach me.”

“But you must,” Ian said. “You have brought yourself to his attention.”

“Whose attention?” I asked.

Ian’s eyes met mine. “Alexander’s.”

“Because I introduced myself to Xander?” Elysia asked. “Come on. Alexander is just a legend. I’m sure Xander doesn’t remain in contact with him.”

“Judging by his conversation with Neil, I think he does,” I said.

“Big deal,” James said, turning his glare on Ian. “Stop trying to scare her into doing what you want. He’s just a lich in a tomb.”

“Alexander is a ghoul master.”

Elysia pressed a hand to her mouth.

“A what?” James demanded.

“That’s what Livie said was controlling those zombies.” I frowned at Ian. “Why didn’t you—”

“Oh God. Doug,” Elysia whispered.

I gave her a frown. “What?”

“He’s his father’s heir.” Her brow wrinkled. “I don’t know which is worse: if he knows, or if he doesn’t.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“A ghoul master can soul bind the living.”

Say what? “The living? I think we’ve moved outside the bounds of necromancy.”

“A ghoul master injects a bit of his own soul into a living host. It’s a form of possession.”

I sat down on the nearest stool and stared at the two necromancers standing before me. Elysia was a lich king, like Ian, her ancestor. That was their blood gift. But Neil was descended from Alexander.

I grabbed my journal, and flipping to a new page, wrote
Neil’s blood
across the top.

“Addie?” Ian prompted. “What have you discovered?”

“Neil’s blood.” I tapped the top of my pen against the open page. “He told Xander that he bound Gavin with alchemy and necromancy. If he possesses his ancestor’s power, he could tap into it via blood alchemy and bind the living. Brian. Is that why no other necromancer can control Gavin?”

Ian’s eyes met mine. “You cannot let Neil come to full strength. He must be destroyed.”

“Not an option.”

“Why not?” Elysia asked.

“Neil soul bound Ian.”

She took a step away from Ian. “Then you are compromised.”

“Neil is stunted.” Ian’s gaze once again locked with mine. “But if he makes himself whole, you must end me.”

“Ian—”

He turned away and walked into the back room.

I exchanged a frown with Elysia, not sure what to make of his abrupt departure. I looked up when I heard him close the wardrobe where he kept his clothing. A moment later, he returned carrying a Mason jar. He set it on the counter before me and I swallowed when I saw its contents: a shriveled human heart.

“You know how to end a lich,” he said to me.

“That’s yours,” Elysia whispered.

I stared in horror at the organ. It twitched.

I jumped to my feet so fast that I overturned my stool.

“Ian.” I swallowed, trying to get control of my racing pulse. “You are not compromised.”

“Addie, I am. You must—”

“She doesn’t have to do anything.” James moved to my side. “How dare you ask that of her. If it comes to it,
I’ll
take you across.” He picked up the Mason jar and shoved it into Ian’s hands. “And put that away. Jesus, you know that shit freaks her out.”

“If she’s going to fight this fight, she must harden her heart.” Ian calmly met James’s glowing gaze.

“Her heart is who she is.”

Ian studied him for one long moment. “Your youth belies your wisdom.” He turned away, carrying his jar back to his room.

James frowned after him.

A knock sounded at the back door and I spun to face it.

“It’s just Era,” James said, his tone soft.

I rubbed a hand over my face. “Maybe I could stand to toughen up a little.”

“No.” James gripped my shoulder. “Never change, Addie.”

“We should go,” Elysia said, glancing toward the hall to the back door.

“You don’t have to go,” I said.

“I think it best. I need to pack up my things at my old apartment and bring some clothes back here.”

“Okay.”

Era knocked again, and James and Elysia headed for the stairs. I sighed watching them go, then went to let Era in.

“Should I have called?” She asked when I opened the door. “Are you in the middle of some crazy experiment?” She eyed my lab coat.

I smiled. “We’re all done now.” I pulled open the door and held it for her.

“We? As in you and that lich?” Like everyone else, Era hadn’t forgiven Ian for the trouble he had caused us last December.

“Yes.” I eyed the garment bag she carried. “I’d thank you for bringing that over, but…”

“You secretly wish I hadn’t.” She grinned, well aware of my feelings on formal attire.

“I don’t think my wish is that secret.”

She laughed and bent to pick up a large tackle box sitting at her feet.

“You plan on doing some fishing?” I closed the door behind her.

“No. I thought I would help you with your hair. Otherwise, you will just pull it up in a ponytail.”

I led her toward the lab, unbuttoning my lab coat as I went. “So?”

Era shook her head. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Your idea of fun sounds drastically different from mine.”

“What happened here?” Era stopped outside Elysia’s bedroom and eyed the demolished door. The bulk of the mess had been cleaned up, but the damage to the door remained.

“Elysia was attacked by poltergeists this morning.”

“So, it’s not enough that she takes James, now she uses her death magic to trash your place?”

“She was attacked. But that shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” I led Era into my bedroom.

“Why’s that?” She hung the garment bag on the back of the door.

“I cured her.”

Era had reached up to grip the zipper on the bag and hesitated. “Are you sure that was wise?”

“She’s a good person.”

“You’ve known her what? Two days? I’m sure you’ve plumbed the depths of her character.”

“Actually, we’ve been in a few tight spots, and she reacted admirably.”

Era frowned and turned her attention back to the garment bag. “Define admirable.”

“Era.”

“You’re not going to convince me. Let’s just drop it.” She removed the garment bag to reveal a floor-length, red gown.

“Wow, that looks formal. Where exactly are we going?”

“A nice restaurant down by the river.” She began unpacking the tackle box next.

I eyed the curling iron, brushes, and make-up kit. “Looks like you’re planning a major overhaul.”

“You want to look good for Rowan, don’t you?”

“If he doesn’t like me as I am,” I gestured at my jeans and sweatshirt, “then this relationship thing is pointless.”

“So, it’s official? The two of you are a couple?”

“Well, he asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend, and I said yes—but he didn’t give me his class ring or anything.”

Era snorted. “You’re hopeless. Come on, let’s try on this dress.”

I held in a groan. “How do I get myself into these things?”

“Pull it on over your head.”

“Era.”

She laughed.

I stood before the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door—a fixture I seldom used—and eyed the sleek red dress Era had clothed me in. The skirt fell all the way to the floor and the neckline was high, but I wouldn’t describe it as conservative—not with the close fit and open back.

“Damn, I’m good,” Era said from behind me.

“Humble, too.” I smiled at her in the mirror.

Era flashed me a grin, then turned her attention to the black heels she had dug out of the bottom of the garment bag. “What the hell, these are scuffed. I don’t have time to return them.”

“There’s a black marker in the drawer by the kitchen sink.”

She shook her head. “I guess that will have to do.” She left the room, shoes in hand.

I turned back to my reflection, eyeing my pulled up hair and light make-up. Era certainly had an eye for what looked good on a person—or an apartment. Fashion and decor weren’t my area.

“Face it,” I said to my reflection. “You flunked girl.”

Fortunately, I excelled in other areas. My eyes drifted to my tattoos. I wasn’t certain where we were going, but after this morning’s newspaper article, it would be best if I wasn’t seen with Rowan when he wasn’t wearing his robes.

I left my room. Era had found the marker and was busy doctoring my shoe beneath the bright light over the sink.

“I’m going to run down to the lab,” I said. “I need to make these tattoos disappear.”

“See that that’s all you do.” She didn’t look up. “That dress is too hot to spill acid on.”

“I don’t typically spill acid on myself.”

“Soot would be hard to get out on short notice, as well.” She looked up, her grin making her amber eyes twinkle.

“I don’t know why I have such a reputation for blowing things up. I don’t do it that often.” I headed for the stairs, her laughter following me.

The lab was empty when I arrived, the countertops spotless, and not a dirty beaker in sight. I smiled to myself as I walked to my shelf of potions. Yes, I would certainly miss Ian if he decided to move on once I fulfilled my blood oath and found his daughter.

I selected my tin of vanishing cream and twisted the lid. “Damn.” It didn’t budge. I tried to remember if James or Ian had tightened it after I had used it last.

“Need some help?” Ian asked.

I jumped and turned to face him, a whisper of hot air across my skin as the portal closed. “Where have you been?”

“To see Joseph.”

“Oh.” I handed him the tin.

“I didn’t see any of his brothers in the Family plot.”

“I’ll find them.”

“I know you will.” He twisted open the tin, but didn’t immediately hand it back. He eyed my dress.

“Don’t say it.” I tried to forestall any nineteenth century criticism. “I know this dress isn’t what you’re used to, but it’s what people wear now. Other people. This wasn’t exactly my choice.”

He smiled. “I’m aware of today’s fashions and your aversion to them.”

“You’re aware of today’s fashion? Could have fooled me.” I gestured at the waistcoat he currently wore.

“I didn’t say
I
wanted to wear it. I’m not part of this world. Whereas you—”

“Have no choice.” I rubbed a dollop of vanishing cream on my left biceps.

“Whereas you,” he repeated, “should consider wearing them more often.”

I looked up, wondering if I had heard him right.

“You are an attractive woman—when you choose to dress like one.”

“Um, thanks?” I scooped up another glob of cream and went to work on my right arm. “But I don’t think this dress would hold up that well in the lab.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t mean here. Elsewhere. I’m sure His Grace would enjoy it.”

I smiled, amused at his attempt at matchmaking. “Shall I let him drag me downtown to try on all the latest fashions?”

His blue eyes twinkled. “Perhaps.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t have your narcissistic flare.”