The Heir of Death - The Final Formula 3.5 (16 page)

You saw what Gavin did to Addie. I can’t do that to you.

“But you can heal me.”

What if I can’t? Addie took weeks to heal. You would endure that, for him?
James waved a hand at Ian.

“If he’s telling the truth, then I think he should be given the opportunity to make amends. And if you want to be self-serving about it, his knowledge will be really helpful in dealing with his brother.”

Ian bowed his head, a small smile curling his mouth.

Elysia reached out and gripped James’s arm. “Would it be easier if I commanded you?”

Nothing will make this easier.

“Then you might as well get it over with.”

James stared down at her, studying her brilliant soul. This form was the one that enabled him to see souls the clearest, because this form was a hunter of souls. What he saw within Elysia bothered him. Had he not looked at her this closely, or had she changed so much? He probably wouldn’t notice if he had looked at her with the hound’s sight while on the mortal plane. Her soul outshone all others, but here he could see other hues within that brightness. Bits of other souls that she had pulled within herself and made them part of her, expanding her power. Yet a mortal body could only hold so much. He suddenly understood the danger she was in.

He reached out and ran a finger over the bright rope linking Elysia and Ian. They both gasped. Ian’s soul dimmed a little more while Elysia’s brightened.

James jerked his hand away.
That won’t work.
He growled the words.

Elysia reached up and opened the brown necromancer’s robe she still wore. Then pulled up her T-shirt, revealing her stomach.

James admired the smooth skin over toned muscle. Then she spoke.

“Do it.”

The words were a command, and he pulled back his lips with a snarl. Catching her shoulder with one hand, he drove the opposite one into her stomach, claws first.

Elysia screamed.

Chapter 17

P
ain ripped through her and Elysia screamed again, unable to hold it in. This was much worse than anything she had ever felt. Losing her finger had been nothing compared to how much this hurt. This pain went deep. Soul deep. Literally.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. So sorry.
James’s mental voice was almost a howl. He drew his fingers together, dragging his claws through her flesh.

Her throat was getting raw, but she couldn’t seem to make herself be quiet. She couldn’t even take command of her voice to order him to stop.

Elysia. I got him. Look at me.

She blinked her eyes, trying to focus on the monster kneeling over her. Somehow, she had ended up on the ground, the odd, soft ground, beneath him. He held up one clawed hand, and even in the dimness, she could see the blood wetting his fingers. Or maybe she knew it was blood by the iron-rich scent hanging in the air.

Something shimmered around his claws, then he opened his hand. The shimmer faded away. A groan sounded, and she turned her head. Ian still knelt a few feet away.

Her throat hurt too much to speak.
Ian? Are you…

He lifted his head, his blue eyes meeting hers. “I’m fine.” He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to them. “Damn it, James.”

James, still crouched beside her, snarled.

Shh.
She reached up and ran a hand along his muzzle, silencing him.

James’s eyes remained on Ian.
It wasn’t just you that I…extracted.
His index finger was still curled against his palm, but he opened it now, displaying a glowing white slug impaled on his claw.

Elysia cleared her throat. “Is that—”

A piece of Alexander Nelson’s soul? Yes.

“You…extracted him? He can no longer control me.”

Never again.

“Oh.” She stared at the slug. “If you can do that, can you,” she hesitated. “Can you pull out the others?” She hoped he couldn’t hear the hope in her voice.

No. They’re in too deep. They’re part of you. Alexander was separate. A parasite. You hadn’t taken him into your soul.

“God, no. I—” She fell silent as
James brought the slug to his mouth. Then to her horror, he ate it.

He bowed his head and a shiver rolled over the midnight fur that covered his back.
He’d better not venture into hell while I’m here.

“You ate his soul?”

Still crouched before her, James looked up. Around the pupils of his glowing green eyes, she could see a slim band of red. He blinked, and it was gone.

Yes. Now he won’t be able to shake me off next time he comes here.
He cocked his head as he watched her.
I won’t let him touch you again
.

She swallowed. “You ate that, for me?”

Of course. Why else would I? Do you think I want to end up as insane as Gavin?

“Eating souls will make you crazy?”

From what I’ve observed.

“I guess it works the same for both of us.”

She rolled onto her side and pushed herself into a sitting position. She had intended to get to her feet, but pain laced her middle, and she doubled over holding her stomach. Her hand came away slicked with more blood than she expected.

His eyes fell to her stomach, and he placed one clawed hand over her own.
I need to heal you.

“I’ll get her,” Ian offered, dropping to a knee beside her. Before either of them could speak, he scooped her up in his arms.

“Take me to my room,” she said. She didn’t want the others to see what James had been forced to do.

Ian frowned, but didn’t comment. Light spilled into the land of the dead as a portal opened. Ian stepped through, and they stood in her room over Addie’s lab. The welcome familiarity of her bed and things had her blinking her eyes. She was home. She hadn’t accomplished what she’d wanted to, but she had faced Alexander, the original Deacon, and survived.

A thump sounded across the room, and she realized that James was closing the drawer to her dresser. A moment later, he stepped into view adjusting the waistband of another pair of sweatpants. She was going to need to get him a few more pair.

“You can set me down,” she said to Ian.

Ian did as she asked without comment, and she gritted her teeth against the pain in her stomach. James hadn’t dug nearly as deep as Gavin had with Addie—she had literally been ripped open. But this still hurt.

Ian’s hand settled on her back, his forehead wrinkled in concern.

“It’s just a few deep scratches,” she reassured him. “Go let Addie know you’re okay.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“You can make up for it by teaching me to use my magic.”

His frown deepened.

“Ignorance isn’t going to save me.”

“You’re right.” He stepped away, but he didn’t leave the room. Instead, he glanced between the two of them. “I will tell you a little about your gift, but I will never teach you to use it.”

“But—”

“No. There will never be a situation dire enough for its use to be worth the risk.”

“Tell us what you will, then leave,” James said. “I need to heal her.”

Elysia realized she was doubled over the arm she had wrapped around her stomach. She tried to stand straighter.

“I’ll make it quick.” Ian turned to her. “When you use your active power, even to only let off pressure or animate a single zombie, you are reaping. A corpse is relatively harmless. Any trace of the soul that is left behind is minuscule. Especially in the older ones.”

“That’s why you always took me to the old graveyards to practice.”

“Yes. You would have to animate thousands of zombies before you would ever notice a change. And if you can master the ability to get in and out quickly, you’ll take even less.”

His lessons were starting to make sense. “What happens when I reap the living?”

“James can probably tell you more about that than me. All I can say for certain is down that path lies madness.”

She looked up at James.

“Your power grows with each one,” he answered, “and a person can only hold so much.”

“And the more it grows, the more you must exercise it,” Ian said. “And the more you exercise it, the more you absorb.”

She was beginning to see why he had kept silent about her gift. “I can’t win.”

Ian held her gaze, those blue eyes so much like his brother’s, yet so different. “No, you can’t. The more you mess with the dead, the more it hurts you. You are a necromancer, yet for you the dead are a lethal toxin.”

James straightened.

Ian must have caught the movement, too, because he addressed him next. “
That
is why I’ve been trying to discourage this relationship between the two of you. I like you, James. If she wasn’t a soul reaper, I would give you my blessing in a heartbeat.”

“If either of us had one,” James muttered. He was frowning, but Elysia wasn’t so sure it was in anger.

“What are you saying?” she asked Ian. “Why can’t I be with James? He’s not zombie dead.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, every time you get…amorous with him, you feed your soul into him. That’s no different from an animation.”

She tried to ignore her blush. “But he doesn’t have a soul to absorb. His isn’t bound to the mortal plane.”

“You didn’t lose your grip on my soul when we traveled between planes.”

She didn’t have a response for that.

“Heal her,” Ian said to James, “then think about what I said?”

“I’m not the kind who just gives up,” James said, “but I will think on it.”

Ian nodded, then his gaze moved to her.

“I don’t give up, either.”

“I’m a bit stubborn myself.” He gave them a sad smile, then left the room.

“Close the door?” she asked James after he left.

He did as she asked while she shrugged off her brown necromancer’s robe. “I want to burn this thing.”

“We can have a little ceremony in the back alley later.” He stepped up behind her and helped her pull it off.

She looked down at the long-sleeved T-shirt she wore underneath. The black fabric was wet with blood.

“Where’s the journal?” he asked.

She glanced back and found him checking the pockets of her robe. “Oh, Ian’s journal. I don’t know. I guess it fell out?”

James frowned. “Are you sure?”

“No. Why? What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t want Neil to get it. It’s full of alchemy notes.”

“Good point. We need to go back to the catacombs, anyway.”

“To find out what happened to Matilda?” James asked.

“And to find out who was controlling those liches below her tomb. Whoever it was told me she was a soul reaper, but Bella got both of her sisters away from Alexander.”

“Maybe a descendant?”

“Maybe.”

James stepped around in front of her, his forehead wrinkling as his gaze fell to her shirt. The wounded look in his eyes tore through her worse than his claws had.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue with her. Instead, he dropped to his knees before her. He reached up and gripped the hem of her shirt, then lifted his eyes to hers.

“Don’t look,” he whispered.

“Why not? I don’t have Addie’s blood phobia.”

A small smile tried to curl his lips, but failed. “I don’t want you to see what I did.”

“James.”

He held her gaze.

“Okay. I won’t look.” She lifted her head and gazed across the room. Her old laptop computer was open, and she could see their reflections in the dark screen, though not with enough detail that she was violating his request.

He pushed up her shirt, and she reached down to hold it in place just below her breasts. She kept her eyes on the screen.

His warm breath brushed against the torn flesh of her stomach. Then his tongue made contact.

She inhaled, fighting the urge to cry out as his acrid saliva burned into the wound.

He hesitated.

“Keep going,” she breathed. “It stops hurting in a minute. Just burns like hell until then.”

His hands settled on her jeans-clad hips, and he went back to licking the raw flesh of her stomach. And just when she thought she would scream, the pain began to subside. Her tense muscles relaxed and she sighed.

“There,” she whispered. “The pain is gone.”

He didn’t acknowledge her verbally, but his hands slid around to the bare skin of her back. His warm breath felt cool against her damp skin. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her before pressing his cheek to her stomach.

She reached down and laced the fingers of one hand into his dark hair, combing her fingers through soft strands. He tipped his head forward, and she moved her fingers along his crown to the back of his neck. His embrace tightened but he didn’t lift his head.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“What if Ian is right? What are we going to do?” His words were as soft as her own.

“I don’t know.”

He leaned back to look up at her, the glow still visible in his green eyes. The glow she expected; she didn’t expect the unshed tears.

She dropped to her knees in front of him. Not knowing what to say, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. He sat down and pulled her closer.

“I don’t want to be the reason you…don’t survive,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes. “I don’t want that, either.”

“Maybe Doug would be the better choice.”

She pulled back. “What?”

“You were right. He’s not a bad guy.”

“Hades blood, give it a rest. There was never a choice to be made. Why can’t you get it through your head that there is no contest between the two of you? You’re the one I want, James Daniel Huntsman.”

He drew a breath through his teeth that was almost a growl. “Don’t do that.”

“What? Claim you?”

“Tighten the bond like that.”

“Why not?” She met his gaze and held it. “Here’s the thing. My gift is going to kill me no matter what I do. I’d rather go down in flames than go cower under my bed and slowly waste away.” She frowned. “Or is that the problem? When I perish, so do you.”

“And why can’t you get it through your head that I’m fine with a mortal existence?”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I want your mortal existence to be an entire lifetime, not just a few years.”

“And I would rather have a few years with you, than an entire lifetime with someone else.”

He bowed his head. “This is so screwed up.”

“Yes.” She waited, but he didn’t say anything else. “What are you thinking?”

He reached out and took her hand. “I don’t think we should be making these kinds of decisions right now. We haven’t had a chance to process everything we’ve learned. Not to mention, we haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours.”

“Sleeping on it isn’t going to change the facts.”

“No, but we’re more likely to find a solution with a well-rested mind.”

“A solution?” She tried to ignore the surge of hope the concept awakened.

“I’m not ready to admit defeat. Are you?”

“No. My magic has ruined enough of my life. I’m tired of it.”

“Well, then.” He climbed to his feet and offered her a hand. “Let’s prepare for battle.”

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet.

He ran the back of one finger along her cheek, his claw brushing her skin, and she shivered.

“You like that I’m not completely human.”

“It turns me on,” she admitted.

“Twisted necromancer.”

“Yes.”

He leaned down and kissed her.