The Catalyst of Corruption (The Final Formula Series, Book 4) (19 page)

“But if I can, shouldn't I?”

Elysia chewed her lip, but didn't answer.

“They're gone,” James said, releasing me. “Back to the lab?”

“Please.”

He stepped away from us, and Elysia frowned after him. No, I couldn't fix everything.

Chapter 16

I
tucked a vial in my
pants pocket, then slipped two others in the opposite pocket. I would have liked to wear my robes—more places to hide vials—but I preferred to avoid notice.

Ian hadn't returned to the lab, and though I was worried about him, I was glad he wasn't here to deter me from what I planned to do next.

James had offered to help me in the lab, but I had told him that until Ian got back, I was just adlibbing. I would call him when I got a better idea of where I was going. I felt bad about lying to him, but I saw myself as having no choice.

Elysia and Doug were upstairs, preparing dinner. I left them a note that I had gone on an ingredient run, and slipped out the back door. I caught a bus a few blocks over, and twenty minutes later, I was halfway across town, standing at a lone pay phone outside a locally owned grocery store.

“Where do you want to meet?” I asked when he picked up the phone.

Neil didn't immediately respond, but he didn't ask who I was. “Do you remember—”

“I doubt it. Give me an address.”

He did as I asked, and I forced myself to focus, memorizing the street and house number.

“How soon will you be there?” he asked.

“I'm not sure. I don't know Cincinnati that well.”

“You've spent the last two decades here.” He sounded exasperated. “I should be there in half an hour. Wait for me if I'm late.” He hung up before I could respond.

I frowned at the phone and placed it back on the receiver.

 

I double-checked the address against
my memory, wishing I had written it down. This couldn't be right. Neil had asked me to meet him at The Hamburger Inn?

It had been almost half an hour, and I was out nothing by checking inside. It was better than meeting him at a morgue or cemetery. He was a necromancer now—and according to Ian, a powerful one.

Ian. I continued to worry about him, though I told myself I was being foolish. He and his brother were equals. Alexander had no magical or physical advantages over him. Though I wasn't so certain about the psychological ones.

I couldn't do anything about that now, so I pushed my concerns aside and walked through the door. The diner was just a little hole in the wall, but the interior looked clean, and the full dining room spoke of good food. The smell of frying hamburgers and onion rings was certainly enticing—and it made me aware that I had skipped lunch.

I scanned the small room, but didn't see Neil. Then, too, I was a few minutes early. I dug in my back pocket, checking to see if I had enough for a burger. This didn't have to be a wasted trip. A hand settled on my shoulder, startling me.

“I got this.” The voice was Neil's, but the young man standing beside me did not look like my nemesis from recent months.

A wave of déjà vu washed over me, momentarily hazing my vision with a cascade of memories. I saw Neil in his black alchemist's robe in dozens of different situations, the scenes flipping through my mind so quickly that they all ran together. But even through the confusion, it was clear that Neil and I had worked together for a long time, and we had been close friends. As close as two obsessed, driven people could be.

“Amelia?” Neil's voice broke through the haze, and the memories shattered.

I pulled in a breath, trying to get my bearings, and tasted blood. I rubbed a hand across my upper lip, and it came away smeared in red. My nose was bleeding, again. Damn, the déjà vu incidents were getting frequent. I had to be on to something. I just hoped it was something helpful.

“Here.” Neil plucked a napkin from the dispenser on the counter and handed it to me.

I looked up from my bloody fingers, and noticed his eyes were brown. This was new. I had never seen his true eye color. As for the rest of him, he looked to be in his early to mid twenties—like me. And I had known him well at that age.

“You okay now?” he asked.

“Yes.” Fortunately, I hadn't lost consciousness or done anything to draw attention.

Neil gave me one last look, then waved over the waiter. “To-go order, for Dunstan,” he said to the man.

“We're not staying here?” I asked.

“Do you see any open tables?”

I didn't.

“There's a park just down the street.”

The waiter returned and gave Neil a brown paper bag. The grease was already beginning to soak through. My stomach growled at the sight, but it looked like I'd have to wait to grab a bite. That was okay. I didn't expect this to take long.

The park was in the next block, a multitude of mature trees providing secluded nooks for a private picnic, and a sound barrier to the playground at the far end. A woman pushing a stroller passed us as we headed in the opposite direction. I couldn't help but marvel anew at Cora's offer to adopt the baby. Of course, she wouldn't be raising him alone. Like Era before him, this little boy would have a wonderful childhood.

“That was an alarmingly wistful look,” Neil said.

“What?”

He nodded toward the retreating stroller. “Does His Grace realize you're making goo-goo eyes at baby carriages?”

“Oh, please. Did you forget who you're speaking to? I've got a friend who's looking to adopt. I wondered if that would be her in a few years.”

“Ah.” He set the bag down on a picnic table that overlooked a small stream. “Well, it didn't seem in character for my Amelia, but I don't know this Addie persona well.”

I gave him a frown and sat down across from him. “And I'm sure you knew me ever so well before.”

“Your favorite color is red, your birthday is May first, and you would give your right arm for one of these hamburgers.” He pulled a wax paper-wrapped burger from the bag and set it before me. He pulled out a second burger for himself and a couple of orders of fries. Then he removed the cardboard insert holding a pair of drinks in plain white Styrofoam cups.

“Well?” he said when I just stared at him.

“What the hell? Did you fall and hit your head or something? Last time I spent any amount to time with you, you tried to have me Made.”

“That was a mistake. I was pissed about Mother, and getting kicked out of the Family, and being so damn close to having my birthright back that I could taste it.”

“Well, that makes it all right. Forgive me for being critical.”

He gave me a frown, then unwrapped his burger.

“How about the Gavin incident? You about killed me again, without the courtesy of being Made.”

“That was not my doing.”

“You were the only one who could control him.”

“Do you really think anyone could control him? He was more psychotic than my uncle, whose idea it was to go after the Elements in the first place.”

“Yeah. I witnessed that. Ian and I were in the little graveyard behind his house.”

I expected a frown, instead Neil laughed. “And what sort of mad plot were you pursuing?”

“I saw Megan Fields's heart in the cooler at your uncle's parlor. I was trying to find her.”

“Yet another example of one of my uncle's bad ideas made worse.”

“I don't get you, Neil. You constantly speak ill of your uncle, yet jump through hoops to impress him.”

“I'm not trying to impress him, not the way you think. I've been trying to prove to him—and the rest of the Family—that he made a huge mistake when he took my birthright from me.”

“So, you used my blood to make your cousin sterile, thereby putting yourself in contention for Deacon, where you could resurrect Alexander and make your uncle's position meaningless.”

“In a nut shell, yes.”

“Glad to be of assistance.”

“Eat your burger and stop whining. If you hadn't let Emil wipe your memory, we wouldn't be on opposite sides of this thing.”

“I'm sure I
let
him.”

“You idolized the bigoted asshole.”

“Save your breath. I'm not buying any of this. You could tell me anything about my past.”

He sighed. “I want you back at my side. The real you. I want you to take the Final Formula. If you ever do, and I have lied to you, it will destroy what I've been trying to accomplish. What
we
were trying to accomplish. So, I will not lie to you about our past. Besides, something I say might bring back a memory, then I won't need you to take the Formula to remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Now, now. I only share my secrets with Amelia, not you, Addie.”

“Stop it. I am not a different person. I have simply chosen to take my life in another direction. A better direction.”

“Is that what you told His Grace? I don't see him ever forgiving you for what happened to his sister. Or is the sex that good?”

I refused to let him bait me. “You gave Alexander that potion, the one that made you immune to Elemental magic last fall.”

“Yes.” Neil neither smirked nor showed any remorse.

I frowned. “Why did you really resurrect Alexander? I'll believe that it was partially in vengeance against your uncle, but Alexander is too strong. Why put yourself under his power?” Then it hit me. “Oh. You intend to use him to take out the Elements.”

Neil rolled his eyes. “The Elements can't be
taken out
. They would just respawn. That's why my uncle's plan to throw Gavin against the world's Elements was so stupid. It would accomplish nothing and just give the new Elements more reason to come after us.”

I saw his logic, to an extent, but it really bothered me to hear Rowan and his family reduced to placeholders for a magical power. They were people. Unique individuals just as deserving of life as the next person.

“And as far as putting myself under Alexander's power,” Neil continued, “I've always been in his power. The entire Nelson Family is. Hell, most of the other families, too.”

“Then why—”

“Because he can no longer hide in his secret crypt, letting his puppet take the blame for his bad decisions. Once I restored his body, his vanity wouldn't allow him to hide any longer.”

“That's
how
you returned him to the world, but I still don't see
why
.”

“It's simple. If you'll excuse the pun, I'm going to let him bury himself.”

“Then why give him the potion? Why not let the Elements take him out?”

“Then he becomes a martyr.”

There was more to this, I could feel it in my gut, but didn't know what more I could ask to make Neil reveal it.

“I can see you don't believe me, but it's the truth as far as it goes. As I said, I'll only share my secrets with Amelia. Return her to me and we can stop playing these games.

I rubbed a hand over my face. “I don't think you're sane.”

“Probably not in the classic sense.” He took a big bite of his hamburger. It was one of those old-fashioned burgers with slaw. The bun so soft, his fingers left an impression.

I frowned. I was just being an ass when I suggested that Neil was insane, but now that I thought about it, was there more to it? When he had stunted Elysia with a potion designed around his own blood, it had broken her natural defense against ghosts. Ian had once implied that Neil, like most stunted necromancers, let the ghosts in to bleed off their excess magic. But stunted necromancers couldn't control that.

“What?” he asked around a mouthful of burger.

“How did you remain sane? More or less.”

He smirked at the
more or less
part. “You know. Alchemy. Well, you did know.”

I frowned. “Did I design something?”

“No. The Dunstan side of my family had a strong alchemic heritage. My father was an alchemist. Unfortunately, I was his downfall. When I didn't succumb to madness, my uncle learned of it and had him killed.”

“God.” I remembered meeting Neil's father outside the ruins of the Alchemica—as a zombie under Neil's crazy mother's control. “Did your mother know?”

“That her brother had her husband killed? Maybe. But it wouldn't have mattered. She was very close to her brother.” He smiled.

“Spare me the creepy smile. You used ash alchemy to rebuild your defenses.”

“I would congratulate you on your astuteness, but you probably pulled that from your subconscious.”

Or so he claimed. But if he was telling the truth, it was possible to use ash alchemy to rebuild Elysia's defenses.

“At the time, I didn't know it was ash alchemy,” Neil continued. “My father used to prepare it for me. But once he was gone, I had no idea how to make more.”

“That's when you found Ian.”

“Yes. He gave me lessons in blood alchemy and taught me a potion that would drown out the spectral voices.”

“He gave me that formula.”

Neil's dark brows rose.

“For Elysia,” I said.

“Ah. Now I get it. You're here for her.”

“Yes.” Close enough. And since he already knew of her affliction, the confession didn't give him any new information. But I dreaded what I had to ask next.

“I want Ian's journal.”

He laid down his burger and lifted his eyes to mine. In the bright sunlight, I noticed that his eyes were golden brown, reminding me of Elysia's own. A chill crawled along my spine, though I had no explanation for it.

“I don't have it.”

“But you told me that if I met with you, you'd bring me something to read.”

“Yes, I did.” He pulled out his phone and after a few taps on the screen, passed it to me. “The book is well over two hundred years old. I don't like to pack it around with me.”

I zoomed in so I could read what was written on the weathered page.
A Warning on the Dark Alchemy of Ashes.
The name inscribed beneath the title was Lord Joseph Dunstan.

A wave of dizziness passed over me, and I gripped the table to steady myself. “Why do I know that name?”