The Catalyst of Corruption (The Final Formula Series, Book 4) (22 page)

“Me, too.”

Livie waved, then James let the portal go.

I released a breath. “Damn.”

“What happened?”

I turned with a gasp to find Ian standing just inside the stairwell door.

“What happened to you?” I countered.

“I couldn't find her. When I returned to the cemetery, you were all gone. I hoped you had called James.”

“We did. He tracked her.”

“Where was she?”

“That ghost got her again. She was back under Music Hall.” I walked over to him. “The ghost wanted its bones exhumed, so that's what we did. Grams took them back to her place. We'll bury them once we figure out where.”

Ian frowned.

“I know. Doug wasn't too keen on following ghost instructions, either, but I had hoped that if we complete this task, perhaps the spirit will move on and leave Elysia alone.”

“Until the next spirit comes along.”

“Then I'll deal with that, too.” I frowned at him. He wasn't willing to help me, so he had no room to complain. “I can only do so much.”

“I know.” He shook his head. “And it's probably the right thing. This ghost is certainly insistent.”

“Now, if it'll just tell us where to bury the bones, we can finish the task.”

“Perhaps, call Era's medium friend.”

“You don't have the Nelson medium phobia?”

He smiled. “No.”

“Any idea what that's all about?”

“Not specifically, but Lex doesn't trust them. He had a bad experience with one when we were twelve. It's biased him ever since.”

“Speaking of Lex, you looked… pleased to see him today.”

“He looked like he did back before everything went wrong. Back when he would tease me about my studies and criticize my clothing choices.” He smiled at that. “But once he started to talk, especially after we left you, it all came back. And it was almost like living it all over again.” He finished in a whisper.

“You loved him a lot, didn't you?”

“Yes. Except for the ten minutes between his birth and mine, we were inseparable. Until Isabelle.” He tugged at his sleeve, absently straightening it. “On some level, I always knew that Lex wasn't right. But I protected him, kept his secrets.” He stopped, a frown shadowing those vibrant blue eyes.

“Go on.”

“He loved me far more than he should, and though I knew it was part of what was wrong with him, I never called him on it.”

I frowned, but didn't ask.

“When I found Isabelle, she showed me what life could be. I was apprenticed to her great uncle and guardian. He was the one who taught me alchemy.”

“Isabelle's great uncle was the mentor you always mention?”

“Yes. Lord Joseph Dunstan. Isabelle and I named our first son after him.”

My mouth dropped open.

Ian noticed my expression and gave me a guilty look. “I never told you Isabelle's maiden name was Dunstan?”

“Uh, no. You didn't.” Oh my God. I
had
to read that text. This was the man who had taught Ian alchemy. “Is Neil related?”

“He claims to be, though I've never verified it. That's your area.” He smiled at his reference to all the time I spent in the genealogy department of Cincinnati Public Library, researching his children. Unfortunately, I had never looked into Isabelle. We didn't even pull her birth certificate.

“Considering that Neil and his deceased brother both had blood gifts,” Ian continued, “I believe his claim may have some validity.”

It might also explain why Elysia and Neil had such similar eye color, the same shade Ian claimed Mattie and Isabelle shared. Crazy. But then, Doug and Xander still resembled Ian a great deal.

“So, you found Isabelle and alchemy,” I said, trying to get the conversation back on track.

“Lex didn't approve.”

“He wanted her for himself?”

“No.” Ian hesitated. “He wanted me.”

I frowned. “But you led me to believe that the two of you fought over Isabelle and that's what drove you apart.”

“There was an element of that because Lex always wanted what I had, but it was me he wanted. We had always been a team. Inseparable, but we were growing up—or at least, I was. I wanted to go my own way. He wasn't ready for that. So, he forced me to make a decision.”

“You chose Isabelle.”

“And the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Yes. A long sordid, horrific history. But that was then and this is now. You were happy to see him today.”

“For a moment. I explained that.”

“You did, but I'm still worried. You're both back in the mortal world and at least look none the worse for wear. Everything that was is gone, and once again, it's just you and him.”

“You just paraphrased everything he said.”

“He's a smart bastard, but I expected that. You share the same genes, after all.”

Ian dropped his gaze, smiling a little. I wondered if he would have blushed if he had the ability.

“Ian, I don't trust you to have the strength to remove your brother.”

He looked up, the smile gone. “I made that mistake once. I won't make it again.”

“I could do it for you. My Fire Hazard potion—”

“No.” He gripped my shoulders, leaning down to look me in the eye. “I will not let you kill for me—or anyone. No more than I would teach you ash alchemy.”

“Ian—”

“You go on and on about the fear you have of your past and then you pursue thoughts like these.”

“I was weak then. I understand now. And if it's necessary and accomplishes what's needed—”

“That doesn't make it right,” he said, anger hardening his jaw. “I will do what needs to be done. It is
my
place, as it has always been. Do not pursue this.”

He released me and after a final frown, turned and descended the stairs.

Would he really do what needed to be done? Or would he do what he always had? Protect his brother.

I took a step toward the stairs and blinked when James stepped out of the doorway.

“Ian looked pissed.”

“I offered to kill Alexander for him.”

James was tugging on a T-shirt he and hesitated. “He doesn't want to kill him?”

“He doesn't want
me
to.”

“Okay. So let me.” He shrugged. “I was hoping for the opportunity anyway.”

I sighed.

“What?”

“I don't know. Everything has just gone to hell.”

“Yes.”

I studied him. “Why are you here?”

“To check on Elysia.”

“She's in the shower.”

He nodded. “Will you call me? Let me know how she's doing?”

I reached out and gripped his wrist. “Please don't leave.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because, you moron, she needs you. You staying away isn't working. You've got to see that.”

“And if Rowan begged you to stay, and you knew fully well that it could hurt him, would you?”

“I trust his judgment. Yes.”

“He nearly killed you.”

“He caught the bed on fire, not me.”

“The bed you were in. The bed he was in. You told me you had to wake him.”

I frowned.

“You would risk him like that?”

“Instead of turning my back on him? Yes.”

“Well, I'm not that selfish.” He turned away and disappeared down the stairs.

I stared after him, caught somewhere between wanting to make a finger gesture and begging him to forgive me.

“I think I know what it feels like to be Made,” I said aloud. After all, James had just ripped out my heart.

I turned toward my room and pulled out my phone, then opened Lord Dunstan's book. Maybe I was selfish. So be it. I wasn't going down without a fight.

Chapter 19

O
ut of the corner of
my eye, I saw the clock roll over to 7:00 a.m. I set aside my phone and rubbed my eyes. I had read through Lord Dunstan's long-winded erudition on the evils of ash alchemy twice, and I had to agree with Neil. It didn't so much scare me away as make me want to learn more. But that probably said more about me than Lord Dunstan.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and took a moment to gather the bloody tissues from my nightstand. I had several surges of déjà vu while reading. Most were images of Neil, working beside me in the lab. Strangely, not all of them had to do with the study of ash alchemy. I didn't think that had been our initial goal. We had been working on the Final Formula, trying to find a way to isolate the prima materia—before I realized that I could use Element blood.

I got to my feet, pausing a moment to stretch my back. I had slipped in a few hours of sleep between readings—and waiting for my phone to recharge—but I hadn't gotten enough sleep.

Oh well. It wasn't the first time.

I left my room, and after a brief stop in the bathroom, I went out to the kitchen to see what Elysia was up to. Considering that the apartment smelled of bacon, I had a pretty good idea.

She looked up from her place at the stove. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” I took a seat on one of the two stools along the short bar between the kitchen and dining area. “You're up early.”

“I went to bed early.”

“I guess. How are you?”

“The same.” She transferred some bacon onto a paper towel-lined plate. “Why?”

“Well, I'm expected to give everyone a call with a full report.”

“Everyone?”

“Grams and Livie.” I hesitated. “James.”

“Ah.”

I watched her a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There isn't much to say.”

“Shall I break out the ice cream?” I could see her smile in profile.

“For breakfast?” she asked.

“Why not?”

“Just let ourselves go, huh?”

“The Final Formula may not let me, but I'm willing to push the limits.”

She snorted, then removed a few more pieces of bacon from the pan.

“Is that ghost still bothering you?” I asked.

“I don't think so, but I'm not always aware of it. The joys of hearing voices.”

I frowned. “Plural? This isn't the only ghost bothering you?”

“No. But this is the only one who seems able to take me. I hope she stays away. I don't like how that feels.”

“Can you communicate with her?”

“Not easily.”

“I wanted to find out where she wanted her bones buried, then maybe she could be at rest.”

“I bet Doug is still fuming over that.”

“Perhaps. I haven't seen him this morning.”

“It's early.” She cracked an egg into the skillet.

“I was going to shower, but it looks like you're about done.”

“Go ahead. I'll hard cook the eggs and make sandwiches.”

“Sounds awesome.”

 

I was standing beneath the
shower spray thinking about the last page of Lord Dunstan's opus. It had been the picture of the double-dragon ouroboros. The white and the black. Suddenly, I realized that it was the same picture from my memory. That hadn't been part of Lord Dunstan's text. Neil had added it. He knew what it meant.

My mind drifted back to the memory I had reclaimed in the Elements' library. Neil and I had been talking about the cycle of life and death, and I had used the ouroboros as an illustration. It represented the cycle of transformation. The First Matter manifesting in the mortal world as the classic elements, moving through life, then unmanifesting in death. It was classic alchemical teaching from the past. Most of it was steeped in mysticism purely for the sake of being mysterious. But sometimes, they got it right.

I braced my hands on the walls of the shower, expecting a major revelation, but I felt nothing except the warm water falling on my shoulders. I was so close. Why wouldn't it come to me?

But Neil knew. He knew what it meant, what I was searching for, because he had wanted the same thing.

What if he had found it?

I shut off the water, took a quick moment to towel off, then pulled on my robe over my damp skin. I all but ran to my room. My phone still lay on the nightstand, and I snatched it up. Neil had my number and I had his. I might as well use it.

I turned on the phone and saw that I had received a text. Had Neil decided to utilize our connection already? Or had Rowan sent me a message? I opened the text and was disappointed to find that it was from the reporter I had met at the parade yesterday—the one I had promised an interview. I decided to respond to her later and selected Neil's number instead.

Why the ouroboros?
I typed.
What does it mean?
I sent the text then stared at the screen. A full minute slipped past.

Damn it. Why wasn't he paying attention?

I returned the phone to the nightstand and walked to my closet to select a T-shirt and jeans, grabbing the first thing my hands fell on. I couldn't help but remember how I used to occasionally look at what I pulled off the hanger—which was as close as I ever got to dressing to please someone. Rowan.

I guess it didn't take long for me to fall back to my old ways. “In more ways than one,” I muttered.

My phone buzzed and I ran to grab it, even thought it was only a text.

You know why
, Neil answered.

“No, I don't, asshole. You know I don't. Why would I ask?” I glared at the screen.

Meet me. We'll discuss it
, his second message said.

I glared at that one, too. I had sworn that I was finished meeting with him. I had been so certain I could figure out ash alchemy from even just a hint of its true nature. But there was something else here. Something that had begun with ash alchemy, but evolved into more. Neil said that I had made some discoveries. I had to find out what they were. I had to.

Where?
I typed.

The phone buzzed almost immediately, as if he had already typed the answer and had simply been waiting for me to request it.

I read the address, but didn't know it.

The phone buzzed again.
It's one of my father's funeral homes. Defunct now, but useful as a back-up lab since you destroy mine so frequently.

I think we're even on that score. I'll leave shortly.

Knock at the back door. I'll be waiting.

I laid down the phone and resumed dressing, trying not to think too deeply about what I was about to do.

 

“To go?” Elysia asked when
I requested to take my sandwich with me. “This isn't a take out place.”

“I know, and I hope you don't think I'm treating you like my personal chef. I would offer to cook from time to time, but that wouldn't improve the situation.”

“True. The scorch marks would mar the paint.”

“I really don't blow things up that frequently.”

“You always say that, then I catch you sweeping up another exploded flask.”

“That's just part of the alchemy process.”

“I never see Ian cleaning up anything he's destroyed.”

“He's not as daring as I am.”

She smiled, but proceeded to wrap my sandwich in a piece of foil.

“Unless you want me to stay…” I offered.

“You don't need to babysit me.”

“That wasn't what I was offering, but if you need to talk, I'll stay.”

“I'm fine, Addie. If I get bored, I can go build international landmarks with Doug.”

I laughed. “Did you see Big Ben made out of sugar cubes and toothpicks?”

“The guy missed his calling.”

“Clearly.” I stepped around the counter and gave her a hug. “Call me if you need me?”

“Sure.”

“Or if you need me to bring back some oregano.”

Another smile. “Is that a hint?”

“Your lasagna is to die for.” I released her. “Call Grams?”

“I thought you were supposed to report in.”

“It would mean more if you did. She's worried about you.”

“My calling won't eliminate that.” She tucked a strand of loose hair behind one ear.

“It will reassure her that you're not facedown in a ditch somewhere.”

“Speaking of facedown… Do you want to bring back some wine?”

“I wouldn't know what to get.”

“Get the kind with alcohol in it.”

I shook my head. “I'll see what I can find.” I wasn't so sure I should, but I knew her desire for it was just temporary. Once I figured out how to make ash alchemy work she wouldn't need wine—except maybe to celebrate.

Feeling a little better, I jogged down the stairs and hurried through the hall to the lab. The room smelled of roasted dill, though Ian wasn't roasting anything at the moment. He was bent over, eyeing the graduations on a burette.

“Hey, I've got some errands to run. Need anything?”

He kept his eye on his glassware. “I believe we are low on marjoram and vinegar.”

“Got it. How about Doug? Is he up? I thought I'd better see if he needs some more sugar cubes or toothpicks.”

“He did go through an inordinate number of them.” Ian straightened. “He hasn't returned.”

“Where did he go?”

“For a jog.”

“Ah.” I walked to the coatrack to get my jacket. Doug had been whining about missing the gym. I had pointed out that it was no longer an issue since I had given him the Final Formula, and he told me that he enjoyed working out. Clearly, there was something wrong with the guy.

“Do you want me to take you?” Ian asked.

“I'll take the bus. Stay here with Ely.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I smiled. Ian always called me that when I got bossy. I hurried out the back door and headed for the bus stop. At least, I had gotten out of the lab without lying—too much.

 

The address Neil had given
me was, indeed, a funeral home, though by the condition of the busted marquee, overgrown hedges, and boarded windows, it probably hadn't been operational in at least a year, maybe longer.

I knew Neil's father had been gone for decades. Had this place fallen to another family member to run? Did they die, too, or like Elysia's grandmother, had they fallen prey to the Nelson Family monopoly?

I understood why he instructed me to knock at the back door. The steps to the front door were broken, and a sheet of plywood covered the opening where the door had been. I walked around the back, dodging the overgrown shrubbery and empty beer cans. I wondered how Neil could use it as a lab. The delinquents of the world loved abandoned buildings.

The back door was metal and looked solid. Maybe the place was more secure than I realized. I stepped on the narrow back porch and eyed the huge collection of urns. They were funeral urns, of course. Surprisingly, none were broken.

I lifted my hand to knock when the door suddenly opened. I stepped back with a gasp. The door swung inward, and the hinges screeched loud enough to make me grit my teeth.

I expected to be greeted by Neil, but a robed figure moved into view instead. The tattered edges of the garment made it clear that he'd been wearing it a long time. Decades? Centuries?

“Um, hi.” I stopped outside his—or her—reach. I hoped. “Is Neil in?”

The man, woman, lich, didn't answer or move.

“Neil?” I called.

“Amelia, come in. Ignore Bart, he's harmless.”

“Whatever.” I took a breath and stepped inside. “Thanks, Bart.”

The lich gave no sign that he had heard me, but once I cleared the door, he carefully closed it. Then he dropped a heavy metal pole into the twin brackets to either side of the door, barricading it.

“Okay.”

Bart turned and walked away without giving me another glance—or head turn. He might not have any eyes with which to glance.

“Neil?”

“In here.” His voice carried out of the doorway to my right. I stepped through into a tiled room with the typical floor drain and autopsy tables. Fortunately, the only things on the steel surfaces were collections of lab equipment. Even more equipment lined the counter along the far wall. The room was illuminated with a couple of bare bulbs that glared off the dingy white tile.

With a last glance over my shoulder to make certain Bart had gone on his way, I stepped into the room. “Nice place.”

“It has served my needs.” Neil didn't look up from the beaker he was stirring. “I didn't think you would feel comfortable at my uncle's funeral home. That's where I usually work.”

“It's more the company you keep than the location.” Though that was an operational funeral home, and I preferred not to hang out with necromancers from the opposition when there were dead bodies around. “What do you have to show me? I assume this isn't it.” I stopped across from him and waved at the clutter on the table. And Ian complained about me making a mess.

“Actually, I'm prepping some ingredients. A few things that may prove useful later.”

“Ah.” I watched him for a moment. Unlike me, he wore his black robes and looked so much like the Neil from that old picture of us that it was spooky. When he didn't speak, I decided to get to the point. “So. The ouroboros.”

He looked up, his eyes meeting mine. Wow, they really were the same shade as Elysia's. Freaky.

“Lord Dunstan's text didn't stir any memories?” he asked.

“I had a few nosebleeds, but nothing came of it. You have to give me something. You can't expect me to help you if you don't.”

“You'll help me?” His eyes narrowed.

“That's what you keep saying you want.”

“Then prove it. I gave you the text. Your turn.”