The Alchemist's Flame (20 page)

“You broke James’s brothers out of their jail cells,” I said. Or rather, Neil had commanded him to. “Where are they?”

“Somewhere safe, far from here. Did you think they would be left where they might be killed? They are the last of the line.”

Did that mean James
and
Gavin would be exiled from the mortal plane if George and Henry died? And if Henry wasn’t here, why did the compass—

Then it hit me. Ian had made the compass with Henry’s purified blood. The alchemical process of purifying the blood isolated the power, not the essence of the person. Did Gavin still possess Brian’s Hunter power? I remembered Clarissa saying something about the body’s magic remaining after a grim soul rips it. And Brian had been soul ripped.

“You shine so bright,” Gavin whispered, drawing my attention to him. The pupils in his red eyes shrunk down to pinpricks. He licked his lips. “I want to taste you.”

I took an involuntary step back. He was just as creepy in human form as his true form.

“Stay away from her.” Rowan moved to stand in front of me.

“Element.” Gavin gave him a wide grin. “You walked with my little brother through death and survived.”

I assumed he referred to the time James and Rowan fought, and James jerked Rowan into the land of the dead. The trip had nearly killed Rowan.

“I did,” Rowan agreed. “You would do well not to underestimate me.”

“You wick power from death, but your soul is mortal.” Gavin cocked his head. “There is power there—I’ve tasted Elemental souls—but that power is not visible to me, not like the alchemist…or the girl. She let me taste her, to free my brother.” He tipped his head back and groaned. “I would not take her soul, even if it would free me. I would do as my brother: keep her, taste her, again and again.”

“Stay away from her,” Ian said, his voice almost a growl.

“Necromancer.” Gavin lifted his lip, exposing his teeth. “You cannot bend my will to yours, but I feel it when you try. You are as strong as my master.”

“Stronger. Once.” Ian took a step toward him.

“The pride of the Death Master.” Gavin spoke the words as if they were a title, his tone dripping with contempt. “The magic in the body is fleeting; the soul is where the true power lies. Consuming yours and the Element’s may give me enough to break my master’s hold.”

“Or I could break it for you,” I spoke up.

Gavin’s creepy gaze shifted to me. “How?”

“The same way you were bound: alchemy.”

“He soul bound me.”

“But he bound this mortal form first, correct?” Elysia had told me that Neil gave Brian a potion before he forced James to soul rip him. Neil himself had bragged to Xander about binding Gavin with alchemy and necromancy.

“I don’t know.” Gavin shrugged. “He offered me a body and I took it.”

I frowned. He was probably telling the truth. He had been trapped in the land of the dead until he took Brian’s soul-ripped body. “Neil set you up. He used alchemy on the body he gave you. It was a trap.”

Gavin snarled.

Goosebumps rose on my exposed skin. I wanted to run, but gritted my teeth and held my ground. “I can free you.”

“Addie.” There was a warning note in Ian’s voice. “Don’t make deals with the devil.”

“Silence, necromancer. I was talking to the alchemist.” Gavin gave me a smile. “She is going to free me.”

“Technically, I only said I could.”

Gavin lifted his lips, exposing his teeth.

“Let us go, and I will brew you your freedom.”

He snorted. “I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid.”

I crossed my arms against the chill. “You have my word.”

“Words cannot bind, or find. Give me your blood. A taste.” The glow in his eyes brightened. “Then I can find you and collect.”

“No.” Rowan stepped between us.

Gavin snarled and lashed out at Rowan, forcing him to jump back. Ebony claws glinted at Gavin’s fingertips. Claws that could rip out a soul.

“Addie, run!” Rowan shouted, then he attacked. He ducked another slash from Gavin, then rolled to the side, kicking out with one leg. The move knocked Gavin’s legs out from under him. He landed on his back with a grunt.

Rowan sprang to his feet and caught my hand, pulling me toward the crypt door. I stumbled along beside him, trying to run in my stupid heels. If they weren’t strapped to my feet, I would kick them off.

Ian’s footfalls sounded behind us as he followed. Drawing closer with each stride.

Gavin’s snarl was all around us. He leapt across the sarcophagi to our right, his movements impossibly fast, and landed in front of us.

Rowan released my hand, leaping to the side to dodge Gavin’s claws. This time, Gavin jumped in the air, avoiding Rowan’s kick. Rowan’s momentum spun him away from Gavin, which if he had been fighting a mortal, would have worked fine. Gavin wasn’t anything close. He moved so fast, he was waiting for Rowan by the time he finished his turn.

I screamed as Gavin’s next slash took Rowan across the back of the shoulder and slung him a dozen feet to smash into a sarcophagus. The crunch of the impact turned my stomach. Rowan slid to the base of the sarcophagus and didn’t get up.

I wanted to run to him, but Gavin blocked my path. His mouth curled into a demented grin and he lifted his hand, displaying those claws. “I could have taken it all, but where’s the fun in that?” Something glinted on those ebony talons. Blood? Gavin lifted his hand toward his mouth, licking his lips.

Ian sprang forward. He seized Gavin’s wrist before he could touch his bloody claws to his mouth, and slung him aside. Gavin flew even farther than Rowan before colliding with another sarcophagus. The impact cracked the lid in two and shattered one side. Gavin landed in the debris, and the stone box crumpled, freeing the other half of the lid. It slid down, landing on his chest. The impact pulled a grunt from him.

I hurried toward Rowan, hoping Gavin would be trapped long enough that we could get out of here. If he was like James, his body was alive. He took injury and suffered pain like the rest of us. However, James had to shift into the hellhound in order to heal. I had yet to see Gavin become a hellhound and hoped that meant he couldn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to recover as quickly.

My hopes were short-lived. I had only made it half the distance to Rowan when Gavin snarled and slung the damaged lid aside. It flew several feet before landing with a heavy thump against the wall.

Gavin sprang to his feet.

“Get Rowan out of here,” Ian said to me. Then he ran at Gavin. A portal winked open behind Gavin’s back an instant before Ian tackled him. The pair fell through the dim opening, darkness enveloping Gavin as he crossed the threshold. The portal began to close, but not before I saw Gavin rise to his feet, his black-furred true form towering over Ian.

“Ian!”

The portal closed.

“What did he do?” Rowan asked in a raspy whisper. He pushed himself up in a seated position, the muscle in his jaw tightening.

Choking back a sob, I hurried to him and dropped to my knees. “He bought us some time,” I whispered. “We need to get out of this room. This is the only point on the mortal plane Gavin is allowed to return to.”

“Help me up,” Rowan whispered.

I got to my feet and did as he asked. It felt like it took hours, but between me and the sarcophagus, Rowan regained his feet.

“I feel so weak,” he whispered. “Like the time James pulled me through the land of the dead.”

“He nearly soul ripped you.” I pulled his arm across my shoulders. “You can’t fight a grim and win.”

He made a sound that might have been a snort of amusement. “I should have learned that after my fight with James.”

“True.”

We hobbled toward the door, Rowan’s weight pushing down on me more and more with each step.

“We’re nearly there,” I said to encourage him.

Rowan grunted, the sound pained and winded. How were we going to make it up the steps from the wine cellar. And more than that, how would we get out of Xander’s house without his notice?

“I need a moment,” Rowan said. He braced a hand against the sarcophagus beside us, then slumped against it.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t rest until we get out of this room.” I took his arm, trying to pull it across my shoulders once more. “I can’t carry you. Please help me.”

He didn’t move, and in the silence, I heard the soft clatter of stone on stone. The debris from the broken sarcophagus settling or something else?

“Please, Rowan. We need to move. We can’t be caught down here.”

“Too late.” The voice came from ahead of us.

I turned to face the threat.

Doug Nelson blocked our way out of the burial chamber.

Chapter
20

I
pressed a hand to my mouth, unable to completely muffle my sob of relief. “Doug. Thank God. Give me a hand.”

He walked over to us, his golden hair glinting in the light from the open door before the shadows of the room masked it. “What do you think you’re doing down—” He stopped and his eyes widened. “Your Grace?”

“We tracked Gavin down here.” Though not totally accurate, I saw no reason to go into detail. I needed to get Doug moving. “He’ll be back any moment.”

“Gavin…was here? In my father’s home?”

“I’ll explain later. Help me with Rowan.”

“Addie,” Rowan complained, trying to push himself upright.

“He’s drained,” I told Doug, ignoring Rowan’s attempt to save face. “Gavin nearly soul ripped him.”

That seemed to get Doug moving. He came forward and, despite Rowan’s protests, pulled Rowan’s arm across his wide shoulders.

With Doug’s help, we made much better time. We were only yards from the door when a snarl sounded behind us.

“Move!” I cried.

Doug didn’t need my shout; he was already moving. He pulled Rowan through the open door, and I ran after them. I stumbled on the uneven floor and bumped my shoulder against the doorframe. Warm fingers brushed the bare skin of my back and I cried out, throwing myself through the open door. My damn shoes tripped me up and I fell forward—right into a male chest. Arms came around me, preventing me from landing on my butt.

“Easy,” Doug said.

A snarl sounded behind us, and we both spun to face the open door. Gavin stood at the threshold of the crypt, illuminated by the dim bulbs of the wine cellar, his red eyes on full glow.

I stepped forward and tugged at the heavy wooden door, trying to close it. A moment later, Doug joined me.

“I’ll find you, alchemist,” Gavin said, his voice echoing within the crypt. “Neither the living nor the dead can stop me.”

The door closed with a reverberating thump. Doug gripped the heavy metal bolt and slid it home.

I leaned against the door, my heart pounding in my ears. Where was Ian?

“What was he talking about?” Doug asked.

“Who knows? Gavin is completely insane.” I pushed off the door and moved to Rowan’s side. He leaned against the wine rack, his expression alert, but his skin was much too pale.

“You tracked Gavin down here?” Doug asked. “Did you see him upstairs or something? I suppose Father invited you here to witness my humiliation.”

“When he named Neil as a contender for heir?” I remembered Xander’s speech at the party.

“Yes.”

“Your father didn’t invite us,” Rowan said. “This compass led us here.” Rowan reached in his pocket and showed the device to Doug. “It was alchemically altered to track Gavin.”

That hadn’t been the compass’s original purpose, but I didn’t call Rowan on it. I suspected that he didn’t want to give Doug any more information than necessary.

The explanation seemed to be enough. Doug didn’t voice any skepticism, he just nodded.

“How much do you know about Neil and his grim?” Rowan asked.

Doug’s shoulders fell. “I inadvertently gave Neil the means to resurrect him.”

“And your father?” Rowan continued. “Does he know about Gavin?”

Doug’s brow wrinkled. “It wouldn’t surprise me, but he’s never mentioned Gavin to me. He didn’t even say anything about meeting with Neil.” Doug’s gaze moved to me. “I learned that when you confronted Father at the hospital. And tonight’s little announcement?” He faced Rowan again. “That was a
complete
surprise.”

I frowned. Doug was either an exceptional actor, or he really had been blindsided. I almost felt sorry for him.

“I’m beginning to wonder if Neil has done something. Given Father a potion to make him more agreeable.” Doug looked at me, his expression oddly hopeful. “Is that possible?”

“Yes.” Though I thought it unlikely. Neil didn’t need a potion. All he had to do was offer Xander power.

“Does your father know about James?” Rowan asked.

“No. At least, I never told him. But Neil knows.”

“Neil has known about James for months,” I said. After all, I was the one who found James and offered him in exchange for Neil’s help in capturing an Element.

“Neil told me that James works for you,” Doug said to Rowan.

“He does, but he’s more than that. James is my friend. I won’t have his will subjugated.”

Doug stood straighter. “You’re pissed because Elysia soul bound him? Man, she’s an innocent. You better not have—”

“Peace, Nelson.” Rowan lifted a hand. “She is well.”

“Better than well,” I said. “I cured her.”

“Are you serious?”

I nodded, but before I could speak, Doug embraced me.

“Oh God, thank you.” His hug was tight. “If something had happened to her, because of my stupid pride I—” He seemed to realize what he was doing and released me so fast I stumbled.

“Sorry.” A bit of color flared in his cheeks. “Sorry, Your Grace.”

Rowan still looked ready to collapse, but a glint of amusement showed in his gray eyes.

“I was glad to do it,” I said. “We like Elysia.”

Rowan pushed off the wine rack. “We need to go.”

Doug moved over to his side. “If Father doesn’t know you’re here, it would probably be best if it remained that way.”

“I’d prefer to investigate Neil and Gavin without his knowledge,” Rowan said, “but if asked, I won’t lie.”

“But if you confront him and Neil’s potion makes him behave in an irrational manner…”

Rowan held his gaze.

“I can get you out of here without being seen,” Doug finished.

“That sounds like the best course of action,” I agreed.

Doug glanced at me. “If Father is under the influence of something alchemical, can you help him?”

“Yes.”

Doug nodded, but before more could be said, footfalls thumped on the old wooden steps. I held my breath, expecting Xander, or Neil. Dark slacks came into view followed by a coat of burgundy trimmed in black. It was one of the servants, probably here for more wine.

The man stepped off the last step and turned to face us. “Sir?” He stared at Doug.

“Get what you came for and leave us,” Doug said. “Say nothing of what you saw here.”

I glanced up in time to watch Doug’s white eyes return to blue.

The servant pulled a couple of bottles from the rack and, without even glancing in our direction, hurried up the stairs.

“He was a lich,” I said. “Are all the staff dead?”

“Not all.”

I stared at him, more shocked that he would answer honestly, than anything. “Do you Make them to avoid paying them for their service?”

“No.” He frowned. “Is that really what you think?”

“Your staff is dead. What am I supposed to think?”

“Only a small fraction.” He sighed. “Being Made is to be immortal. There are some who desire that.”

“Don’t they rot?”

“Slowly. And there are ways to slow it further.”

I arched a brow.

“It is nothing nefarious, and also none of your concern.” He waved a hand toward the stairs. “We better go before they need more wine.”

I didn’t have a response, so I let him lead us up the stairs.

Doug did as he promised, guiding us through the big house by the back halls and avoiding the other partygoers. Rowan refused help, bracing a hand against the wall from time to time to maintain his balance. I could see the dampness on the back of his left shoulder. The dark fabric of his tuxedo masked the color of the liquid, but I knew it was blood. How badly had Gavin clawed him? I didn’t ask. I stayed close in case he stumbled. Rowan healed fast—faster than me—but healing took energy, and whatever Gavin had done had drained him.

Doug stopped when the hall we were following reached an intersection. “Do you have coats?”

“I do,” I said. “We checked it at the door.”

“Name?”

“Brant,” Rowan said.

Doug nodded. “Continue down this hall,” he pointed to the hall on the right, “until you reach the last room. You’ll find a pair of French doors that open onto the side of the house. I’ll meet you there.” He hurried down the hall to our left without giving us a chance to respond.

Rowan sighed, then turned in the direction Doug indicated. “You’ll probably have to drive home.”

Drive the Camaro? I hurried after him. Rowan didn’t let anyone drive his baby. “You’re not doing well, are you?”

“I’m drained. Even your driving would be preferable to falling asleep behind the wheel.”

“Don’t brush off the question with humor.” At least, I hoped he was being funny.

“Why not? You do it all the time.”

“Rowan.”

He stopped on the threshold to the last room and braced a hand against the jamb. “Fighting to hang on to your soul is exhausting.”

“Next time, don’t challenge him. I could have talked us out of there.”

“Not by talking, by giving him a taste.” He turned his head to frown at me. Oddly, the fire remained absent from his eyes. “I’m the only one who gets to taste you.”

My cheeks heated. “It wasn’t that kind of taste.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ever give that monster your blood.”

“I’ll do what I have to. Though it was Ian who saved us this time,” I finished in a whisper.

“I’m sure the bastard survived.” Rowan straightened and walked toward the French doors across the room. They opened onto what was probably a pretty cobbled patio in the summer. Now, it was dusted with snow. Fortunately, the snow didn’t look any deeper than it did when we arrived.

Footsteps approached from the hall, and I turned toward the sound. A moment later, Doug walked through the door, my coat over his arm. I slumped in relief.

“Thanks, Doug.” I stepped forward to receive it. To my surprise, he helped me pull it on. He turned to Rowan when he finished. “I’ll have them bring your car around. The Camaro?”

“Yes.” Rowan gripped his shoulder before he turned away. “I won’t forget this.”

“I’m not helping you to curry favor. I’m doing this to protect my father.”

“I understand.”

Doug held his gaze for a moment, then waved a hand at the French doors. “Go out this door and follow the sidewalk to the front of the house. I’ll have your car waiting.” He left without further comment.

“I guess I’ll have to take back all the bad things I thought about Doug,” I said.

Rowan grunted and opened the door. I buttoned my coat and followed him outside.

The walk was longer than was comfortable, and my toes were thoroughly frozen by the time we reached the front of the house. Rowan didn’t speak, but he had kept pace with me well enough. They were pulling the Camaro to a stop behind a dark blue Cadillac when we reached the front door.

The driver’s door on the Camaro opened, and the young man from Xander’s funeral home climbed out. I stumbled to a stop. He waited by my door, holding it open, but as before, he didn’t lift his head to look at me. Was Xander depraved enough to Make someone this young? I thought of the lich buried beneath Xander’s manor. Had he known it was there?

I laid my hand over the kid’s icy fingers on the top of the door. He looked up with a gasp, his eyes meeting mine. I didn’t take my hand away. Gradually, his eyes widened in recognition.

I gripped his fingers. “If you chose this, so be it,” I whispered. “If not, you know where to find me.” I took my hand from his, and he jerked away as if burned. I thought he might speak, but he turned and hurried away.

I slid into the driver’s seat with a sigh.

Rowan was moving his seat back, but glanced over. “What was that?”

“I offered to help him.” I closed my door and began adjusting the seat and mirrors.

“How can you help him?”

“I can free him.” I finished my adjustments and glanced over. “Are you upset that I spoke to him?”

“No. Ignoring his plight would make us no better than the one who Made him. If he contacts you, bring him to me. I’ll do it.”

“I was thinking of James. His magic doesn’t hurt him when he uses it.”

“I think ripping out a soul hurts him very much.”

“And there wouldn’t be an aspect of that when you do it?”

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “I’m older.”

“Good reason, Your Grace.”

He smiled, but didn’t open his eyes.

I reached over and rubbed my fingers along his warm cheek. “You’re going to be the unconscious one tonight.”

“The love gods must hate us.”

“Us? I’m sure it’s all your fault.”

A faint smile was the only response I got.

Movement made me look up. The driver of the Cadillac had finally arrived. He spoke to the valet and pressed a bill into the man’s hand. Probably not a necromancer. The driver looked back at the Camaro before he climbed into his own car. It was a fleeting glimpse of his face, but I recognized it.

“Rowan?”

He didn’t answer.

I squinted at the Cadillac’s license plate, memorizing it. I could have Rowan check later if that had really been Dr. Steadham.

A buzz from the console pulled my attention from the back of the Caddy. Rowan had left his phone in the car for our clandestine adventure. The screen lit up with an incoming call. I picked it up and saw that it was James.

“James is calling you,” I said. “I’m going to answer it.” Having relieved my conscience for answering his phone without his permission, I took the call.

“Finally,” James said before I could speak. “You ask me to call, then ignore me when I do? Era said you and Addie bailed on the party early. Dare I ask what the two of you have been up to?”

“You could ask,” I said, “but I was going to tell you, anyway.”

“Addie.” James almost choked on my name. I swear I could hear him blush.

“Long story short, we had another run-in with Gavin.”

“Rowan?”

“Gavin got his claws in him, but Rowan said he’ll be okay. He’s passed out in the passenger seat.”

“God,” James whispered.

“I’m going to take him to the manor. Meet me there?”

“Of course. Where are you?”

“Xander’s house.”

A beat of silence. “This is going to be a good story, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” The Cadillac was finally pulling away. “Gotta drive. I’ll see you shortly.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

I hung up and glanced in my rearview mirror. No car waited behind me, so I made another call.

He answered on the first ring. “Your Grace?”

I closed my eyes. “Ian.” My voice was little more than a whisper. “You’re okay.”

“I’m fine. And the two of you?”