The Catalyst of Corruption (The Final Formula Series, Book 4) (37 page)

“You need to stop assuming the worst.”

“But—”

“You've fought tirelessly for the burn victims. You took in Doug even though you considered him an enemy. And you braved big ass spiders to help a lost soul you didn't even know.”

“I never saw any spiders.”

“Oh, they were there.”

I shivered.

He laughed and hugged me to him. “You're a good person and you have a line. And God help whoever pushes you to it.”

I sighed and pressed my cheek to his chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart.

“Come home with us. With me.”

He was back on this? It pleased me, but again, I couldn't accept. “I would love to, but I'm worried about Ian. Era told you we found Mattie, right?”

“Yes.”

“I hate to leave him alone now that everyone from his past is gone.”

“Then bring him.”

I lifted my head to stare up at Rowan. “You would let me take Ian to the manor?”

“Yes, if it puts you at ease.”

I didn't know what to say.

“And I promise not to set the bed on fire,” he added.

I smiled. “I don't.”

“Oh, really?” He slid his hands down my back and pulled me closer. “What are you thinking, alchemist?”

“Naughty thoughts, Your Grace.”

He laughed, then once again, his lips covered mine.

Epilogue

I
t was a beautiful spring
afternoon: the sun shone brightly in a cloudless blue sky, the birds were singing, and the flowers were in full bloom. But it seemed odd to observe this evidence of life while standing in a cemetery.

I slid my hand into Rowan's, lacing my fingers with his, as I watched Ian kneel down to place the urn containing Mattie's cremated remains into the black granite pedestal beneath the marble angel. We had finally figured out where Mattie had wanted to be buried.

I hadn't realized that the pedestal was actually a box designed to hold funeral urns. One already rested inside. Ian set Mattie's urn beside it, then reverently ran his fingers over the dusty surface of the other. Isabelle's ashes.

Ian muttered a few words, but I couldn't make them out. That was fine. They were private words meant for his wife and daughter alone.

His speech finished, Ian bowed his head, and I wondered if he prayed. Maybe.

It had been a hard day for him. He had already been to Baltimore to bury his brother's ashes. I had offered to go, but he had preferred to go alone. He wanted to bury Alexander in an old mausoleum they had played in as children. I had smiled at the notion. Necromancers.

I hadn't asked if the old mausoleum was still there, but Ian hadn't returned with Alexander's urn, so I assumed so. Someday, I would ask him to tell me stories of the adventures he and his brother had experienced—before everything had gone wrong.

Ian rose to his feet, and I pushed away the melancholy. He made a small gesture and James came forward. Between the two of them, they carefully replaced the heavy granite front of the pedestal. It wasn't the original piece. Doug had a new slab made. I was impressed with how well the stone matched up, but maybe it was more common than I realized.

James and Ian slid the slab in place, then stepped back. I smiled at the new carving.
Isabelle Marie, beloved wife of Ian Mallory Nelson
. And beneath that,
Matilda Grace, cherished daughter of both
.

Doug, as the new Deacon, had welcomed Ian back into the family. I wasn't certain how well Doug's claim of the title had gone over with the rest of the Nelson family, but that would be a problem for another day.

Actually, Doug was a problem for another day. He was still furious at me for my involvement in his father's death. I was just happy he had come to the funeral today. I really wanted to talk to him, to try to make things right, but this wasn't the place.

With the tombstone now in place, we came forward with flowers for the grave, and hugs and handshakes for Ian. It was a small gathering. Just the Elements, Doug, Livie, Grams, James, and me. But I thought it was a pretty good crowd for a guy who had been locked away and forgotten for almost 200 years.

The only person missing was Elysia. She had been in the hospital two days now, but she was finally off life-support and in a step-down room. She seemed to recover a little more each day, but she still hadn't regained consciousness. Her magic-induced illness had her doctors stumped. As for me, I had no clue how to use my supposed
Element
to help her. But I intended to keep trying until I figured it out.

The faint squeal of brakes drew my attention, and I watched a late model sedan pull in behind Rowan's Camaro. At least it wasn't a news van. My relief was short lived when Waylon climbed out. I wasn't very happy with him. The national director was supposed to be flying in tomorrow with his necromancer to determine if they had a case against Doug, and thereby, Rowan.

“Director,” Rowan said as Waylon joined us. “What brings you out here?”

“Excuse the interruption, but I felt this couldn't wait.” He dipped his head in Ian's direction. “My condolences.”

“Thank you, Director,” Ian answered.

Waylon pulled an envelope from his pocket. I expected him to hand it to Rowan, but he passed it to Doug instead. “Bruner and I just returned from Washington where we presented our evidence to the national director.”

Doug frowned. “I thought he was coming here.”

“He no longer feels there is a need.”

“Why?”

“Read the letter, Deacon.”

The creases in Doug's forehead deepened, but he did as told. His eyes skimmed down over the letter while we waited in silence.

“The charges have been dropped?” Doug asked.

“May I?” Cora asked, and Doug passed her the letter.

“But I really did Make Steadham,” Doug said, “or the man pretending to be him.”

Waylon cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, there was a mix up, and the remains were cremated. However, we did have Bruner's autopsy report, which confirmed that Steadham's heart was intact. If he had been a lich—and there was no evidence of that—he was Made by someone with a blood gift. Clearly, it couldn't have been you.”

I stared at Waylon in shock. He had lied to the national director?

If Waylon noticed my stare, he didn't acknowledge it, but continued addressing Doug. “When Alexander realized that the charges weren't going to stick, he took you from your holding cell. Fortunately, his brother came to your rescue, as he testified this morning.”

Doug turned to Ian. “It was my understanding that you went to Baltimore this morning.”

“I did, after I met Waylon in Washington. Miss Dunstan was very obliging once I introduced myself.”

“I thought the woman was going to faint,” Waylon said, smiling for the first time. “Apparently, Ian and his brother are still quite the legend in certain necromancer circles.”

Ian gave us one of those elegant shrugs. “The stories have been exaggerated.”

I bit back a laugh. I very much doubted that.

“You… defended me?” Doug asked Ian.

“Of course. That's what family does.”

Doug looked shocked. I suspected that wasn't the kind of family interaction he was used to. “Thank you… Grandfather.”

Ian dipped his head, but I caught the smile.

“And thank you, Director,” Doug said to Waylon.

“I'm glad I could put an end to all of this. I—” Waylon's phone buzzed. “Excuse me. That's the office.” He pulled the phone from a case on his belt and studied the screen. A growing frown darkened his expression as he read.

“What is it?” Rowan asked. He didn't sigh, but he obviously expected it to be about him.

“A series of murders the Cincinnati police department is turning over to us.”

“There's a magical connection?” Rowan asked. “Are my people, our people,” he waved to include Doug, “being targeted again?”

“No. The perpetrator, or perpetrators are suspected to be magical.”

“Go on.”

Waylon returned his attention to his phone. “A convenience store clerk, a gas station attendant, and the owner of a local gun shop have all been murdered. Each was shot through the heart with a crossbow quarrel.”

I looked up, meeting James's eyes.

“My brothers,” he said.

“I think so, yes,” Waylon said. He turned to Doug. “We really need to find that necromancer who released them.”

Ian started to speak, but Doug laid a hand on his arm. “We have no proof, but we think it was Neil.”

“But didn't you say those men had been animated by a necromancer without a blood gift and that Neil has one?”

“He animated them with another's blood to throw us off,” Doug continued. “We need to find him.” That was the truth.

Waylon nodded. “I'll put out an APB. Any suggestions as to where to look?”

“No.”

“Are there any other defunct funeral homes he can use as a lab?” Ian asked.

“I'm not sure,” Doug answered. “I'll have to check the records.”

“Let me know what you find?” Waylon asked.

“Of course.”

“Then I better get on this.” A few words of farewell, and Waylon hurried back to his car.

We watched him drive away, but it wasn't until the rumble of the engine faded that I noticed the silence. I turned to face the others.

“You lied for me,” Ian said to Doug.

“It seemed only fair since you did the same for me.”

“Why did you take my brothers?” James asked Ian.

“For Elysia. If they die, so do you.”

James frowned, and I knew how he felt. Ian encouraged James to stay away from her, yet he knew how devastated she would be if she lost him. What a screwed up mess.

“Speaking of Elysia,” Grams spoke up. “We need to get back to the hospital.”

“Shall I take you?” Ian offered.

“I can manage.” Livie gave him a big smile.

Ian returned the smile. “Of course.”

“Doug? James?” Livie turned to them. They had all come together from the hospital.

“I'm ready,” Doug said.

“I'll bring myself,” James answered.

A final round of hugs and handshakes, then the necromancer part of our party was gone. Except for Ian.

“Back to the lab?” he asked me. We had so much work to do.

“Yes.” I looked up at Rowan.

“How's the potion coming?” he asked.

“Slowly.” I had asked to stay at my apartment over the lab until we found a cure for Elysia. Though that wasn't the real reason I had chosen to stay. Ian had turned down Rowan's offer to move in with them, and I was still concerned about leaving him alone.

“Shall I bring over a pizza this evening?” Rowan asked.

I smiled. He was being so cool about all of this. “That would be great. Get one with everything?”

He returned my smile. “Of course.” His expression turned serious. “I'll be over after the memorial—unless you want to come with me.”

“No. I really don't think that's a good idea.”

Xander's memorial was in a few hours. Doug had gathered his ashes from the cremator and would be burying them today. I was the last person he would want present.

“I'm going,” Ian said. “And technically, I turned the cremator on before you turned it off.”

“You turned off the cremator?” Cora asked me.

“After Doug arrived. I didn't want him to see that.”

Era snorted. “You suck at super villain.”

Donovan chuckled. “Era's right.”

I knew they were trying to make me feel better, but the banter didn't cheer me. I still wondered if I would have pushed the button if Ian hadn't intervened.

“And don't worry about Doug,” Era said. “I'll talk to him.”

“Era.”

“He owes me. Because of him, Alexander got his slimy psyche in me.” She shivered. “Is there anything more violating?”

“No,” James said.

Ian sighed. “I'm not going to apologize for commanding you, James. You know perfectly well that you frequently let your other half rule you. I'm only looking out for the best interests of Elysia—or whoever else might be in the room.”

James glared at him. “It's good of you to protect everyone from me—and my brothers.”

“They need to be locked up. Even if Gavin hadn't intervened, they would have escaped the PIA eventually.”

“I'm aware of that. I'll find them.” James turned and walked away. “I'll put my things in the Suburban,” he called to Donovan.

I hurried after him. “James.”

He walked around to the passenger side of Donovan's Suburban and opened the front door. “I'm taking off my clothes, Addie.”

“God knows, I've never seen you naked.”

He gave me a dark look, then grabbed the zipper on his jacket and jerked it down. “Damn.” He looked down at his hand. He had cut himself on the steel zipper, and blood welled along the second knuckle of his index finger.

“Let me see.” I cupped the back of his hand.

“Just pull my wallet out of my back pocket. I'll change like this. I can't chance leaving blood on anything.”

I stared at that tiny bit of crimson on his finger. It was hard to believe I was looking at what was arguably the most deadly substance on earth. Well, the most deadly substance to everyone but me. I touched my finger to his cut.

“Addie?”

And yet this substance gave James life. A man who was in every other way dead.

Life and death. The ouroboros once again rose in my mind's eye. The black dragon swallowing the white, while the white swallowed the black.

“What is it?” James asked.

There was an answer here, but it was just out of reach.

“Did you figure something out?” James whispered.

“No. Not yet.” I looked up, meeting his faintly glowing eyes. “But I will.”