The Catalyst of Corruption (The Final Formula Series, Book 4) (8 page)

His hands slid under my skirt, and he gripped my bare legs just above the knee and pulled me tight against him. Pressed so close, I had no doubt he was enjoying this as much as I was.

“What if your family returns?” I whispered against his lips.

“Marlowe will pull the limo around when the show lets out.”

“What if they walk out before it's over?”

“I'll notice.” His breath was hot against my cheek and his eyes were on full glow.

I lifted my head, looking through the back glass toward the building. Would he notice or would they sense his magic? When his eyes were glowing like this, it meant he was
in
the objects around him, and just a thought away from igniting them—though his irises would turn gold when that happened.

His fingers brushed my cheek. “Trust me?”

“Yes.” I wanted to add a qualifier, but he was kissing me again. He kept one hand beneath my skirt while the other slid up over my bodice. In a matter of minutes, I no longer cared that we were technically in a public place or that his family could interrupt us.

I tugged his shirt out of his pants and undid the lower buttons so I could rub my palms over the tense muscles of his stomach. I didn't disturb his bow tie. It was one of those that had to be tied. I figured he could quickly tuck in his shirt, but the tie would take too long.

I rubbed my hands over his chest, brushing my palms across his hardened nipples. He sucked in a breath, arching his back enough that his hips rose from the seat, lifting me. Sometimes, I couldn't decide which pleased me more: watching his reaction to my touch or letting him touch me.

“Addie,” he groaned my name on an exhale.

God, I loved that. I leaned over and lightly ran my tongue along the skin where his jaw met his ear. “Yes?” I traced my hands down his chest.

His head fell back against the seat, and he pulled back his lips, exposing his clenched teeth. The cords in his neck stood out in stark relief.

I stilled my hands. “Rowan?”

“I want to beg you not to stop,” he whispered.

“But you need me to do the opposite.” I pulled my hands from beneath his shirt.

“Yes.” He released a breath that shook, then opened his eyes. I caught a glimpse of gold flickering through his orange irises before he closed them again.

Damn. I carefully slid out of his lap. The ice pack on my ankle sloshed with the movement. “I've got this ice pack. I could stuff it down your pants.”

He gave me a soft snort. “If you did it, it would still turn me on.”

“You're so easy.”

“Yes.”

I slumped in the far corner of our seat, my injured leg stretched between us, and watched him. Elemental Fire rode the user's emotions and required constant control. Most Fire Elements chose celibacy to avoid the risk. Rowan wasn't like most Fire Elements. But he wasn't immune to the problem, either.

His jaw remained tense, but the wrinkle on his brow spoke of a struggle rather than pain or frustration. He gripped his thighs, but made no other move.

I waited in silence, not certain if he needed it or not, but I figured it was better to err on the side of caution. Finally, after what I guessed to be several minutes, he began to relax.

“You back?” I asked.

“For the most part.” He opened his eyes, but didn't lift his head, staring at the ceiling instead of me. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry about it. You've had a big day. First those lich things in the catacombs, then when James lost it at the mausoleum.”

Rowan sighed. “That used to be all in a day's work.”

“And did you finish those days by making out with some girl in your limo?”

“No.”

“Then I think this situation is a little different.”

He frowned at the ceiling, but didn't answer.

“You're not slipping, you're evolving and mastering a new level of control.”

“My head is pounding.”

I frowned. “Did you use Fire?” Had something spontaneously combusted outside the limo?

He finally straightened in his seat and looked at me. “No.” A slim band of orange still encircled his pupils.

I sat up and reached down the front of my dress to pull out a vial of his remedy, then wordlessly offered it to him.

My heart thumped a quicker beat while I watched him take it. Rowan was the type of man who hid his injuries. For him to take his remedy so easily meant he really had been hurting. Yet he hadn't used his magic.

He capped the empty vial and dropped it in the cupholder in the console by the door. It hit with a clink, and I realized it wasn't the only empty vial in there.

I struggled for something to say. Some reassurance, but I couldn't spout more meaningless promises to find him a cure. I thought again of my conversation with Elysia earlier—how I had just as much hope of saving her from her inborn magic as I did of saving Rowan.

Marlowe started the limo and I looked out the back glass. People were streaming out of the front door of Music Hall.

“Looks like the show is over,” I said.

“Yes.” Rowan buttoned his shirt, then slid forward on his seat to tuck it in.

While Rowan worked to right his clothes, Marlowe drove the limo around to the front of the building.

Shirt tucked in, Rowan straightened his tie and gave his coat a tug before scooting back in his seat. “How do I look?”

“Sexy enough to give
me
control issues.”

He laughed and my spirits lifted at the sound. I loved to make him laugh. So much of his life was tied up in the seriousness of his position, it was good to see him smile.

“Come back to the manor with me.”

My good mood evaporated. “I would love to, but I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Just sleep beside me. Nothing else.”

How could I refuse him?

“Come on. You've got that bum ankle, anyway.”

I laughed. “And what feats of athleticism were you expecting if my ankle wasn't injured?”

He twitched an eyebrow.

“Rowan.”

He winked, but our banter was cut short as Marlowe opened the door and the others joined us.

I started to lower my foot to the floor, prepared to scrunch up and make room.

“Sit still,” Cora told me as the three of them took the seat across from us. “You need to keep that foot elevated.”

Rowan slid his hand beneath my calf and as Doug had done earlier, propped my lower leg on his knee.

“Are you okay, little alchemist?” Donovan asked.

“It's just a sprained ankle. I'm sorry I spoiled your evening.”

“My evening was fine. It was your evening that took a bad turn.” He grinned.

“That's a terrible pun.” I tried to hide my smile.

“Aren't all puns terrible?”

“Unless I come up with them. Then they're witty.”

He chuckled. “It's good to see that your wit wasn't damaged.”

“See?” I said to Rowan. “It told you it was my wit.”

He gave me a knowing smile and leaned back in his seat.

 

The ride to the manor
passed quickly. Era had already told the others about our adventure in the basement, so talk turned to lighter things like their critiques of the evening's performance. I relaxed in my seat and listened, content to be here.

Rowan's warm fingers massaged my calf, just beneath the hem of my dress. If the others noticed, they didn't comment. Actually, none of them said a word about me accompanying them to the manor. Not even Cora. She had been oddly kind to me ever since I had almost died at Gavin's hands, well claws. Maybe because I had put myself in that situation to save her and the other Elements.

I thought she might have reconsidered when she commanded Rowan to carry me into the den once we arrived at the manor, but she returned a few minutes later with an Ace bandage and a bottle of ibuprofen.

“The ice has helped you all it's going to,” she explained. “Now you'll want to wrap it and keep it warm to encourage blood flow.”

She sat on the coffee table, taking my foot in the lap of her navy blue gown. She snugged the bandage around the swollen joint. It was already starting to turn a nice shade of purple.

“How did you learn so much about this?” I asked.

“I played lacrosse in college. You learn the proper way to tend to sprains if you want to play in the next match.”

“Really? I would have never guessed you played sports.” She seemed far too proper for that.

“She's also a beast on the softball field,” Rowan said. “She hits the ball a lot harder than you'd expect.”

“You're supposed to stop the ball with your glove, not your face,” she said, not looking up from my ankle.

“What happened?” I asked.

“She broke my nose.”

“Seriously?” I laughed.

“It healed in hours,” she said. “He didn't even get to keep the black eye long enough to get any sympathy.” She tied off the bandage and straightened. “Go grab a bottle of water,” she said to him. “A couple of ibuprofen will help with the swelling and pain.”

“Sure.” He flashed me a grin and left the room. Cora's blue eyes met mine. “What are you doing here?”

Suddenly I felt I was talking to the Cora of old.

“He asked me to stay, and I couldn't tell him no.”

She frowned. “He's on edge. You shouldn't—”

“I know. We're just going to sleep.” My cheeks heated, but I made myself continue. “We were kissing the limo before you showed up and…he had to take a moment.”

She frowned.

“There's more,” I whispered. “Once he regained control, he admitted that he had a headache.” I met her gaze. “He hadn't used any Fire.”

She rose to her feet and gave me her back.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It's the first sign,” she whispered.

“Sign? Of what?”

A pause, and she faced me. There were tears in her eyes. “That the Fire will soon consume him.”

“No.”

She returned to the couch and sat down beside me. “That's the way it happened for the others. They began to exhibit symptoms of Fire use even when they had used none.”

I frowned. “If it truly causes physical damage—and I know it does because that's what my remedy treats—then that makes no sense.”

“That's how it works. It's what we watch for. Though, there have been some who showed no warning signs.”

“Or did they just not admit to them?”

“That's possible, I guess.”

I studied the doorway Rowan had disappeared through. “If what you're saying is accurate, then it isn't the Fire itself that is causing the damage, but something…” I remembered my conversation with Doug about how a soul reaper's natural defense deteriorates over time. Did something similar happen to Fire Elements?

“What?” Cora asked.

“I need to think on this.” If Rowan's defense against the Fire was failing, could I rebuild it? Again, I flashed back to my memory of Neil and the ashes. We had been trying it on New Magic. What had we learned?

“Do you think—” Cora glanced at the door.

Footsteps echoed from the hall, and Cora rose to her feet. An instant later, Rowan walked into the room. “You two look suspicious.”

“Paranoid?” I asked.

He gave me a smile, then opened the water and handed it to me. I dutifully took two of the pain relievers.

“Cora?” Rowan caught her watching us.

She looked like she might say something, then turned and hurried from the room.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“She's worried about you.”

He frowned in the direction she had gone. “She worries too much.”

“Does she?”

His gray eyes met mine. “Yes, she does.” He walked over and lifted me from the couch.

 

Rowan sat on the side
of his bed, dressed in a pair of red pajama bottoms, and watched me change out of my dress into one of his shirts. My ankle still hurt like hell, but I was able to stand on it—not that I was paying a whole lot of attention to my ankle.

It never ceased to amaze me how my inhibitions fell away beneath Rowan's gaze. Heck, I was self-conscious changing clothes in front of other women, but with him, I could stand here in just a pair of skimpy panties and be in no hurry to pull on the oversized shirt he had selected for me.

Not bothering to close the buttons, I hobbled over to him—okay not the sexiest move.

He watched me, not saying a word as I crossed the space between us and stopped between his knees.

My breath caught as he lifted his hands, and I waited for the brush of his warm fingers against my skin. Would he push the shirt off my shoulders, then pull me into his lap? He gripped the fabric, and to my consternation, pulled it closed. With deliberate care, he moved from button to button, closing each one.

It took everything I had to keep my expression neutral and not scream my frustration at the uncaring heavens.

Rowan closed the last button and dropped his hands to his thighs. “Addie.” His voice was heavy with restrained emotion.

God, what was I doing? He was in a fight for his life, battling a power that could kill him if he let down his guard, and here I was trying to tempt him into doing just that.

“I'm sorry.” I took a step back, but his hands settled on my waist, stopping me.

“I'm the one who should apologize.”

“No. I was supposed to come here to sleep, not perform a striptease for you.”

He looked up. Fire burned around his pupils, but he was smiling. “I'm not complaining.”

“Well, show's over. Time to get some shut-eye.” I stepped out of his grip and crawled across the bed to the opposite side. “It's after midnight, anyway. I bet you have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Yes.” He leaned back against his pillow. “Come here.” He held out an arm.