The Catalyst of Corruption (The Final Formula Series, Book 4) (26 page)

A thump sounded behind me, and I turned to find Rowan on his knees. He doubled over, coughing.

I dropped beside him, already digging a vial of his remedy from my bra. He might have broken it off between us, but I couldn't bring myself to leave the lab without a vial on me. Maybe it was my way of refusing to admit defeat.

“Rowan.” Era knelt on his other side. “Why did you do that? I had it.”

“No,” he whispered, then coughed again. Blood speckled his lower lip. “Only fire destroys the undead.”

“Or decapitation. Once I had them coming one at a time, I would have blown them apart.” She reached out and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “Why don't you have any faith in me? None of you do.”

He sat up to look her in the eye. Blood trickled from one nostril, but he ignored it. “That's not true.”

“Yes, it is.” She brushed away the blood from his upper lip, and a tear slid down her cheek. “It's supposed to be about balance, but it never will be until the three of you see me as your equal. I'm not a child to be protected anymore.”

Rowan frowned, but didn't deny her statement.

She took his hand. “Have you considered that if I hadn't been so sheltered, I wouldn't have been taken? I would have known how to fight back.”

“Here.” I offered Rowan the vial in a not-so-veiled attempt to change the subject.

“Go on, take it,” Era encouraged him. “We're not finished here.”

Rowan removed the cap, but she caught his wrist before he lifted it to his mouth.

“But if we have anymore problems,” she said, “let me try first?”

Rowan held her gaze for one long moment. “Okay.”

Wow, I was stunned. Of course, a part of me wondered if he relented because he knew he didn't have any Fire left.

Era smiled, then leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He watched her get to her feet and walk over to Doug. Wordlessly, Rowan downed the contents of the vial, then handed it to me.

Doug shoved himself to his feet, spreading his legs to maintain his balance.

Era caught his elbow. “Easy.”

He bent over and gripped his knees, taking a couple of deep breaths.

“How bad are you hurt?” She pulled his jacket off his shoulder.

“I'm okay.” He pushed himself upright once more.

“I know you're the one who went to medical school, but in my experience, being okay usually means the blood is inside your body.” She pulled the cuff of his jacket sleeve over his hand, then moved around to pull the jacket off his other arm. The shoulder of his close-fitting T-shirt was, indeed, soaked in blood.

She gripped the neck of his shirt just above his injured shoulder, and fabric came apart beneath her hands.

Rowan grunted, so I figured she must have used her magic. I had seen her condense air to the point of tapping over a few tumblers in a lock, or punching someone across a room, so maybe she could punch through the shredded remains of a shirt.

Doug's shirt, now ripped from his neck to the point of his shoulder, fell open, revealing the deep punctures.

Era frowned at the wounds. “They're bleeding rather heavily, don't you think?”

Doug looked down. “Good. It'll clean them out.”

Era didn't look reassured by that. “Hey, Blake,” she called. “Do you have your pocket knife on you?”

Blake hadn't moved. He stood with one hand gripping the support post, staring at her.

“I think you have some explaining to do,” Doug said to Era.

“Blake?” she repeated.

He blinked, then reached in his pocket and pulled out the folded knife. He tossed it toward her, the movement jerky and uncoordinated. The knife should have fallen to the ground somewhere between them, but it suddenly veered off course and flew to her hand.

“I'm sorry I never told you, Blake,” Era said.

“You're magical,” he whispered.

“She's a little more than magical.” Doug gave her a smirk. “She's an Element.”

Era snapped open the knife, and Doug's grin faltered.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Your shoulder needs to be bound, and your shirt is already destroyed.” She reached up and slipped the knife beneath the remnants of his shirt collar.

“Admit it,” Doug said, his grin looking a little forced. “You just want to see me without a shirt.”

“Fine. I admit it.” Era slid the knife downward.

Doug audibly sucked in a breath.

I pressed a hand to my mouth to keep from laughing.

To my surprise, Rowan's gaze met mine, a twinkle in his gray eyes. He climbed to his feet and walked over to join them.

Era pushed Doug's shirt off his shoulders, then tugged it down his arms. “Nice.” She trailed one finger down the well-defined muscles of his stomach.

“You're going to get me fried,” Doug complained.

Era suddenly laughed and handed the knife and shirt to Rowan. “Where's that arrogance now, necromancer?”

“Carefully hidden.”

Rowan ignored the banter and began to cut the shirt into strips, passing them back to Era.

“On your knees,” Era said to Doug.

He did as she asked. “I think this was your plan all along.” A grin belied his words.

“Naturally.” She accepted another strip of cloth from Rowan. “All kidding aside. How do you recommend I do this? My first-aid experience is limited to Donovan's forest survival lessons that thankfully never involved more than splinter extractions and minor burns from freshly roasted marshmallows.”

Doug turned serious, as well, explaining the best way to tie off the makeshift bandage. He might have been flippant about the whole thing, but even from across the room in the dim light, I could see that the punctures were deep and still bleeding.

Not that good with blood, I walked over to Blake. “You okay?” I asked.

He pulled his eyes from the scene before us. “She's really an Element?”

“Yes. Element of Air.”

His brow wrinkled.

“It doesn't change anything,” I said. “She's still the same person.”

“I can't believe she never told me.”

“She might not have been allowed to. They have to keep their identities secret or they'd never get any privacy.”

He still didn't look all that happy about it, but he didn't seem angry, either—which was good.

“How's the arm?” I asked.

“I just got scratched.”

“So you don't have to worry about Era cutting your shirt off next?” I teased.

“I hope not. I don't look like that.” He nodded at Doug.

“I don't think it's a contest.”

Rowan walked over to join us, handing Blake his folded knife. “Thank you.”

“N-no problem.” It took Blake a couple of attempts to get the knife in his pocket.

“I would ask your discretion regarding what you now know about Era and me.”

“Yes, of course,” Blake answered quickly. He eyed Rowan with something between curiosity and apprehension. “You're really the Flame Lord?”

“Yes.”

“His Grace, Archbishop of Radiant Matter and Lord of Flames,” I said.

Blake looked puzzled.

“You haven't heard that one?” I asked.

“No.”

“Some newspaper reporter made it up as a joke, but the
His Grace
part stuck.”

“Oh.” Blake gave us a hesitant smile.

“Thank you for the summary,” Rowan said, his tone dry. He kept his attention on Blake, but I caught the glint of amusement in his eyes. “So, what we're here for is in there?” He gestured toward the open door.

“Yes,” Blake agreed.

“Show me?”

Blake nodded and I handed him the flashlight.

Rowan glanced over to where Era was helping Doug pull on his jacket over his bare chest. “Any other dead in there?” Rowan asked.

“No.” Doug gave Blake a frown. “But next time I tell you
don't open that door
, listen, okay?”

“I will,” Blake mumbled. He was watching Era, concern on his face. I suspected he was still taking everything in.

We followed the young man into the next room. It turned out Doug was right. It was a large root cellar. Shelves held jars of long-decayed vegetables—I assumed. Being this close to the Deacon's place, I didn't look too closely.

Blake didn't stop to look, either, leading us through the cellar to the back wall where he tugged aside a shelf to reveal another tunnel that disappeared into the darkness. It reminded me of the setup in Xander's wine cellar.

“What the hell?” Doug said when he stepped into the tunnel.

Blake walked a few feet further, then stopped before another doorway and shined his light inside.

The small space, only slightly bigger than a closet, was also lined with shelves. Another root cellar? Maybe the place had been used to store alcohol during the prohibition days.

“Wow.” Doug stared down the tunnel that continued past the room. “I had no idea this was here. I wonder how far it goes.”

“You can explore it later,” Era said before turning to Blake. “Is this the room?”

“Yes.” He stood quietly for a moment, his eyes closed, then he walked inside.

Era stepped through after him, leaving me alone with Doug and Rowan. I took a step after Era when a thump followed by the distinct metal jingle of chains came from the tunnel.

“What was that?” I asked.

“No clue,” Doug answered.

“A lich?”

“I sense no dead within my range—and that sounded within my range.”

“There is nothing I recognize as living—or at least moving.” Rowan's eyes glowed as he stared up the hall. “But I can only see about ten feet around us at the moment.”

Doug glanced over at him. “Is the Fire a finite thing? Do you have to recharge or something? Or am I not allowed to ask?”

Rowan frowned, and I thought he'd brush Doug off. After all, good guy or not, this was the Deacon's son.

“My magic is killing me,” Rowan said. “Let's see what that was.” He gestured for Doug to lead the way.

Doug stared at him for just an instant, then nodded.

I watched the pair walk off, my heart lodged in my throat.

Chapter 22

“A
ddie, you need to see
this,” Era's voice carried out of the room she and Blake were exploring.

I stopped just inside the door and watched Blake's flashlight move over the shelves lining the walls. They were mostly empty, but not all. The light reflected off a collection of beakers, flasks, and even a dented copper retort.

“It's lab equipment, right?” Era asked.

“Yes.” I walked further into the room for a better look. “And it's been here a long time.”

“You can tell because of the dust?”

“No, because they don't make equipment like this anymore.” I picked up one of the heavy beakers. It reminded me of the ones from Ian's original lab.

“I wouldn't expect to find something like this under an old house in the woods,” Era said.

“No.”

“Where are Rowan and Doug?”

“They heard a noise down the tunnel and went to investigate.”

Era frowned. “And what's Rowan going to do if he finds something? Stay with Blake.” She hurried out of the room, turning in the direction Rowan and Doug had gone. The dim glow from their light illuminated the tunnel just enough for her to see, but I didn't think total darkness would have stopped her.

“Why do I feel like a kid who needs to be babysat?” Blake asked.

“Do you
want
to be left alone down here?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then let's get what we came for.”

He nodded, then closed his eyes again. I watched his forehead wrinkle in the glow of his flashlight.

“What is it?” I asked.

“There was a man. He gave her something to drink. It was unpleasant.”

I frowned. “You're still in communication with the ghost from Music Hall? The one whose bones we took?”

“Yes.” He kept his eyes closed, his brow furrowed in what looked like pain.

How odd that she led us to Xander's property. Or maybe it wasn't so odd. How long had this been the property of the man who held the title of Deacon? After all, they had all been Nelsons. All family. And this ghost was also a necromancer. Was she a member of that family, or had she married one?

I started to ask, but Blake abruptly bent at the waist, holding his stomach. He held onto the flashlight, and it swung in crazy circles.

“Blake?” I hurried to him.

“I wish they would just tell me their stories,” he whispered, “rather than force me to relive them.” He released a breath and straightened. “Over here.”

I followed Blake to the far corner of the room and watched as he pulled a battered tin down off a top shelf.

“What she wants is in here.” He handed me the tin. It was about the size of an old cigar box.

“What—”

A loud bang echoed out in the tunnel, followed by the distant sound of a shout.

I shoved the tin back into Blake's hands and ran out of the room. A burst of light to my right, and I watched in horror as an orange glow encompassed the far end of the hall.

“Rowan!” I ran toward the glow, but I had only taken a few steps when a pair of dark forms ran out of the dying light.

Blake stepped out of the room at that moment, aiming his flashlight toward the commotion. His light fell on the two people running toward us and I gasped, then shoved my hand in my pocket for a vial.

“Stop!” I held the vial aloft.

“Move, alchemist.” George Huntsman stopped in the beam of light, his brother Henry just visible over his shoulder. They wore camo pants and dirty gray, thermal shirts. They looked leaner than I remembered, and full beards covered the lower half of their faces.

I caught a glint of movement behind George, then a searing pain erupted in my wrist. My hand convulsed, and I dropped the vial.

“Blake, get back!” I shouted as a cloud of brown gas rose rapidly to fill the tunnel.

Blake jumped back into the room, taking his light with him.

Holding my breath, I turned and ran to the first room where we'd faced the dogs. The old chair still burned in the corner, but the flames had died down. The light they gave off wasn't enough for me to see much of George and Henry as they followed me into the room.

Henry bent over, coughing to clear his lungs. A dirty cast covered one forearm where Ian had broken it. Unfortunately, it hadn't hampered his knife-throwing skills, but then he was a Hunter, and Hunters didn't miss.

“Kill her, George,” he wheezed. “Dumb bitch gassed us.”

“It was a bluff, dumbass.” I held up my throbbing arm to display the throwing knife impaled just above my wrist, though I couldn't bring myself to look at it. “Like I wanted to gas myself.”

George walked toward me, one hand resting on the hilt of the big hunting knife sheathed at his waist. As I had suspected, Gavin had made certain they were armed when he left them in Ian's tomb.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Are you working for Xander or—”

“It was your pretty blond friend,” Henry said. “He locked us up.”

I frowned. He must be talking about Alexander. He didn't know that Ian had an identical twin.

George closed the distance between us. Dear God, he stunk.

I tried to take a step back, but he caught my injured arm and lifted it. He studied the impaled throwing knife for an instant, then wrapped his fingers around the end and jerked it from my flesh. I gasped and wrapped my opposite hand around the wound.

“What was your part in all this?” He flicked the throwing knife at Henry without looking.

Henry snatched it out of the air with equal indifference and grinned at me.

“I had no part,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. I so rarely saw evidence of their Hunter abilities that it still freaked me out. “I've been wondering what became of you two. We found where Gavin had hidden you in the mausoleum.

George studied me, then abruptly reached out and grabbed me by the throat before I could even think of moving. “I don't believe you,” he whispered.

I tried to speak and couldn't. I didn't think I could even swallow. I shoved my left hand into my pocket and gripped the vial of Knockout Powder. I'd knock myself out, but at this point, I didn't care.

“Release her!” Rowan shouted, charging into the room.

Relief made my knees weak. He hadn't burned himself out in the tunnel.

I had a moment to saver that relief, then the air around us burst into flame. An instant later, a roaring wind whipped through the room, capturing the flames in the air and making it seem we were caught in a flaming vortex.

“Move!” George shouted at Henry. He slung me aside, and I slammed into the nearest support post. Fortunately, I turned my head just in time and took the blow on the cheek instead of the nose.

By the time I righted myself, George and Henry had sprinted up the stairs, nimbly avoiding the broken risers.

“Rowan!” The panic in Era's voice pulled my attention away from the fleeing Hunters.

Rowan stumbled forward, one hand clutching his chest before he fell to the floor.

Era dropped to her knees beside him, and I arrived a moment later.

“Rowan?” I gripped his shoulder. The wind Era had let loose had reignited the smoldering chair, brightening the room. I could see the blood on Rowan's lips and the paleness of his skin.

“Rowan, talk to me.”

“Hurts,” he whispered, his hand still pressed to his chest. “Hard to… breath.” Was it his heart?

“Where's Doug?” I asked Era.

“I left him in the tunnel.”

“Get him.”

Era shoved herself to her feet and ran from the room.

“Rowan, hang on.” I caressed his cheek, noting with alarm how hot his skin was.

“Addie?” He squinted up at me as if he had trouble focusing.

“I'm here.”

“Kiss me.” The request escaped on an exhale.

I brushed the hair back from his forehead. “Hey, none of that. Remember?”

“Don't care. Kiss me, alchemist.”

“As you command, Your Grace.” Heart in my throat, I leaned over and touched my lips to his. I tasted blood.

His lips moved, pressing against mine for just an instant, then they relaxed.

“Stay with me.” I pulled away a little to see him better. His eyes were open, a faint ring of fire burning around each pupil, though his stare was glassy and unfocused. “Rowan?”

He blinked, and for an instant his eyes met mine, the fire brightening. “Love you,” he whispered, then the flames went out. His eyelids slid closed and his head rolled to the side. His body relaxed against the floor—as if the life had just gone out of him.

“Era! Doug!” I screamed.

A flashlight beam shone down on me, and I realized that Blake had stepped into the room.

“Let me in there.” Doug pushed Blake aside. “Addie, move.” He didn't give me a chance to respond before shouldering me out of the way. Grabbing Rowan by the arm, he pulled him fully onto his back. Doug rose up on his knees and overlapping his hands on Rowan's sternum, began chest compressions. He hadn't bothered to check Rowan's pulse.

Oh God. “Is he…” I couldn't finish.

“Not yet,” Doug said. “Era, breath for him.”

Era stood over us, staring at Doug.

“Era,” he repeated, his tone stern.

She blinked, then knelt on Rowan's other side. “Okay,” she whispered. “I'll up the oxygen content, too.”

Doug's eyebrows ticked upward, though he didn't break his rhythm.

“Doug?” I asked.

“He's not dead, Addie. But I can feel it on the edge of perception. If you have a bottled miracle, I'd suggest you use it now.”

If only I had stuffed a vial of the Final Formula in my bra. Hell, I didn't even have any more of Rowan's remedy.

“You brought him back after he walked the land of the dead,” Doug reminded me.

“Yes, Addie,” Era whispered. Her damp eyes glistened with that metallic sheen as she kept the air moving in and out of Rowan's lungs.

I had replenished his depleted life force with my own, but that wasn't the case this time. His gift was killing him. This was the very problem I had been studying ash alchemy to solve. But I hadn't found the answer yet.

“Please, Addie,” Era whispered.

I stared down at Rowan's pale face. Blood had dripped from one nostril, making its way along his cheek toward his ear. Blood. I could try to use mine again. The azoth, the universal medicine. I could try to share the life in my blood with him. No, more than that. I would share my soul.

“Blake,” I said, aware that he still stood over us. “Get out your pocket knife. When I tell you to, you're going to nick the pad of my left ring finger.”

“Okay, but why? You're already bleeding.”

“Heart's blood.” The left ring finger was believed to be connected to the heart. “It's an alchemy thing.”

“Oh.” An instant later, I heard the knife click open.

“Doug,” I said. “I need the words for a soul bond.”

Doug didn't stop the chest compressions, but his eyes widened. “But you're not—”

“I'm not a necromancer,” I agreed. “But there seem to be some similarities.”

“But you can't…” Doug hesitated, and he looked even more shocked. “You want me to Make him?”

“No!” The horror of the idea dumped ice water in my veins. “No,” I repeated. “Just a soul bond.”

“That doesn't work on the living.”

“I'm not a necromancer, remember? Just give me the words.”

“I will, but know that the exact words aren't important. They're just used to focus your intent. You send your… soul into the”—he hesitated again—“into the person and tie his soul to yours. You must claim him. Make him your own. No doubt, no hesitation. It is nothing but pure, unadulterated arrogance.”

If Doug hadn't been keeping Rowan's heart beating, I might have been amused by that.

“You can do it, Addie,” Era said. “You can save him.”

“Of course.” I let my confidence rise within me. It was going to take every bit of my conviction to pull this off. “That's why necromancers make good alchemists, that arrogance translates well when you must believe you can do the impossible. And I'm the best damn alchemist there is.”

I closed my eyes, imagining the life within me, my soul. The land of the dead couldn't dim it, nor could fire consume it. I would share that with Rowan. Not my life force this time, but my very soul.

I held up my hand. “Cut me, Blake.”

He cupped my hand in his and carefully did as I asked.

I pried open Rowan's mouth with my right hand, wincing when the movement shot a jolt of pain up my arm. I didn't look too closely at the blood soaking the sleeve of my jacket. I would probably pass out if I did.

“The words, Doug.” I slipped my bleeding finger into Rowan's mouth.

“You are mine,” Doug said, his voice soft. “From this moment forward, for as long as I live, you are mine. When my life ceases, so does yours.”

I thought about those words. What they meant, and what I wanted to do. Doug said the exact words didn't matter. They just served as a focus.

“Rowan,” I whispered, picturing my blood, my soul flowing into him. “From this moment forward, I am yours.”

“Addie, that's not—” Doug began.

I held up my hand, ignoring the pain in my wrist, and gestured him to silence.

“As long as I walk the mortal plane, my soul is yours,” I whispered. “Take from me the strength to survive the Fire.”

Rowan gasped, arching his back as he drew air into his lungs.

“Hell's blood,” Doug muttered. If he said anything else, I didn't catch it as a searing pain rolled up the back of my neck and exploded across my skull.

Darkness haloed my vision and reached up to seize me. In the twilight before it took me, I heard Rowan say my name.