The Necromancer's Betrayal (The Final Formula Series, Book 2.5) (4 page)

“What does it do to you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done this. It should only drain me—unless I screw up. Then I die.”

He glanced between the girl and her. Worried for his own existence? If Elysia died, so did he. For some reason, she didn’t think that was his concern.

“I won’t screw up,” she said, holding his gaze with her own.

He smiled. “You remind me of someone.”

She scooted closer and took the girl’s face in her hands. “Who?”

He shook his head. “Not now. How long will this take? If the ambulance comes…”

“Seconds.”

“I always had the impression that lich making was a big deal.”

“It is. I’m not a normal necro.”

“Meaning?”

“Later.” She leaned in closer to the girl. “Do me a favor? Keep what I’m about to do to yourself?”

“Who would I tell?”

“My grandmother.”

“You could command my silence.”

“I could.”

He grunted. “Shall we see if death can save a life?”

Chapter
4

J
ames handed Elysia a box cutter and watched as she snapped it open. This blade looked much sharper than that knife she had used in her kitchen. Maybe he shouldn’t let her do this. She took a deep breath that shook when she released it. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t get the words out before she ran the box cutter across her forearm. The scent of Elysia’s blood colored the air, the iron-rich aroma calling to him. James pushed to his feet and hurried away.

He returned to his clothes, alarmed by his reaction, his longing to once again drink the ambrosia that flowed in her veins. God, what was wrong with him? He pulled on his clothes and considered escaping to the fresher air outside.

He looked toward the counter, using the hound’s sight to see the souls on the other side. He squinted in the brightness that was Elysia. He had never seen a soul that glowed so brightly. Not even Addie’s.

He felt it the moment Elysia bound the girl’s soul. It stopped fluttering about her body and sank inside. He didn’t want to think too deeply about what Elysia was doing, but he couldn’t ignore it. The girl was being bound to her dying body. But maybe the baby could be saved.

A thump sounded from the other side of the counter and Elysia groaned.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

When she didn’t answer, he rushed around the counter. She lay slumped against the wall, holding a wad of tissues to her forearm.

“Hey.” He moved closer.

“It’s done,” Elysia whispered. Her eyes were half closed, but he still glimpsed white irises where golden-brown had been.

“I see.” He squatted beside her and then regretted the move when the strong scent of her blood washed over him. His mouth immediately began to water. It was a bizarre reaction he had never had before, but then, he had never been exposed to necromantic blood. The vibrancy and vitality he could smell. Even the color seemed brighter, more full of life.

“How badly did you nick yourself?” Not wanting to, but knowing he must, he caught her wrist and rotated it toward him.

“It didn’t heal like it did with you,” she said, the words a little slurred.

He pulled away her other hand and found an inch long cut, still sluggishly bleeding. “Heal?”

“Does your saliva have healing properties?” Her head drooped and her tawny blonde hair fell forward, obscuring her face.

Unease crawled along his spine as he remembered his brothers’ ability to heal him. “I’ve never made it a habit to lick open wounds.” It was hard to tell with the new blood, but he saw no evidence of the cut from earlier this evening.

“That would be gross,” she mumbled.

An ambulance siren wailed in the distance. He lifted his head, listening. It was still miles away, but they needed to leave or answer some uncomfortable questions.

He glanced at the clerk and found both souls still firmly attached. The clean towels Elysia had placed under her head were not as blood saturated as earlier.

James scooped Elysia up and headed for the door. He paused long enough to retrieve his bag of snacks and hurried to her tiny car. He placed her, still muttering about something, in the passenger seat and cracked his head climbing into the driver’s side. He put the seat back as far as it would go, but still felt cramped. Grumbling, he punched the accelerator and left the ill-fated convenience store behind.

He continued down the road in the direction she had been headed. How long would Elysia be out of it? Could he make it to Cincinnati? And then what? She had only to give him a command and force him to kill everyone he cared about. He didn’t think she would, but it wasn’t a chance he could take.

“James?” Even though she slurred the letters together, he still felt the tug on the sliver of soul she had buried within him. It seemed to do that every time she said his name.

“Yes?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“Just a minute.” He glanced at the sack on the back seat and then at her slouched form. “Let me pull over.”

He drove until he spotted a rutted lane that led to an ancient barn a hundred yards off the road. The little Ford bounced and thumped over the dips and ruts. After one particularly deep rut, Elysia sat up with a gasp and gripped the dashboard.

“Did we wreck?” she asked.

“No, it’s a bumpy country road.” He brought the car to a stop and reached into the back seat to retrieve his bag of goodies. He pulled out her Diet Coke, cracked it open, and handed it to her. “You got it?” he asked when she fumbled the bottle.

“Mmm,” she answered, tipping up the bottle. A drop escaped and rolled down to her chin. She took the bottle away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He glimpsed her forearm in the glow of the dashboard.

“Are you still bleeding?” he asked. He had adjusted to the scent of her blood—after driving with his window down for several miles. Even so, the smell made him edgy.

She rotated her wrist to reveal her forearm. A drop of blood had rolled to the crease of her elbow. “Yeah,” she said. “Is that bad?”

He grunted. Though it was down to a trickle, it should have stopped by now.

“Grams once told me about her cousin. She tried to make a lich, and she bled to death.”

James cocked his head. “Did she hit an artery or something?”

“Nope. She wasn’t strong enough.” Elysia continued to stare at her arm. “I am, but two bindings in one day is a bit much.” She snorted. “Never thought I’d hear myself say that.”

James watched a second droplet move toward her wrist. He took her Diet Coke out of her hand and twisted the cap into place before dropping it on the floorboard.

“I was drinking that,” she complained.

He cupped the back of her forearm, and before he could reconsider, leaned over and ran his tongue along the cut.

Elysia yelped, but he wouldn’t let her pull away. Like earlier today, her blood burned across his tongue and down his throat, setting his body on fire. Life. How ironic that necromancers dealt in death when in truth, their power was life.

“James.”

The bond tightened, and without warning, she sank more of herself into him. Damn, that felt good. His own power rose in response, like to like. His vision changed and his skin tingled. He lifted his head and had to squint against the brightness of her soul.

Her head fell back against the headrest, and she stared at him with wide white eyes. She lifted her hand to rub her fingers lightly along his jaw.

“So warm,” she whispered.

His blood chilled as he remembered another necromancer saying the same thing. Clarissa, Neil’s mother. Her eyes had been as white as Elysia’s. Unsettled, he began to pull away when her fingers slid across his lips.

“You’ve got a great mouth,” she told him.

Creeped out or not, he smiled. She might sound lucid, but she was clearly out of it.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

He had a second to register his shock, and then the compulsion kicked in. He leaned in and covered her mouth with his. He should be pleased at the opportunity to make out with a pretty girl, but the necromantic compulsion took all the fun out of it.

Elysia’s arms came up around his shoulders, and she parted her lips for him. A few brushes of her tongue and the necromancer thing wasn’t such a turn off. She groaned and one hand slid up the back of his neck into his hair. James was still riding high from her blood, his body alive in a way he had never truly felt. He wondered what she would do if he pulled her into his lap.

“Elysia,” he said against her lips. They gasped in unison as the bond flared up once more.

“That’s not suppose to happen,” she whispered. “I—”

“Careful.” He pressed a finger to her lips, still damp from his kiss. “You’re not yourself. Don’t give me any commands you might later regret.”

She frowned. “I gave you a command?”

“Yes.” He wondered if she was disappointed.

“Oh God.” She pushed open the passenger door and almost fell out in her haste to leave.

By the time he climbed out of the car, she had already disappeared around the side of the barn. He walked after her, unconcerned about losing her in the darkness. With a taste of her soul, he would always be able to find her again.

He reached the corner of the barn and heard retching. A peek around the corner revealed what he expected, she was on her knees emptying her stomach. Another side effect of her over-use of necromancy? Concerned, he took a step toward her.

“Dead, Elysia,” she whispered. “Dead, dead, dead. Why do you keep forgetting?” She retched again.

James stood in silence a moment, then retreated to the car. He didn’t know why it bothered him. He had always known that no woman would have him once she knew what he was, but to make a necromancer sick? Not cool. Necros were known for their depravity.

He glanced toward the barn. He was alone, and she was weak right now. It was an opportunity he couldn’t ignore. If he got far enough away, could he resist her call?

Addie. He would go to Addie. If anyone could figure out a way to free him, she could.

He shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the driver’s seat. Goosebumps pebbled his arms. This February had seen higher temperatures than usual, but it was still cold.

Hands on the hem of his shirt, he hesitated. He should make sure Elysia made it back to the car before he left.

No, she wasn’t that out of it. She would be fine. He had to get out of here while he still could. He tugged his shirt up to his armpits and stopped.

If Elysia died, he could be banished from the mortal plane. Would he end up trapped in the land of the dead? That’s what had happened to Gavin, the grim before him.

Grumbling, he pulled his shirt down and walked toward the barn. Why did she have to soul bind him? A blood bond would have been sufficient to tie him to her. Why add the if-I-die-you-die clause? Had she been that afraid of him?

He stepped around the corner of the barn and stopped. Elysia was gone.

Chapter
5

J
ames called the hound and his senses came to life. He turned in a slow circle, looking for the glitter of Elysia’s now familiar soul. Nothing.

He sifted through the scents and caught a whiff of her strawberry shampoo. Yet it seemed to have moved beyond this area. Unease fluttered through his stomach, the situation reminding him a bit too much of the time he had lost Rowan at that haunted crematorium. But Rowan’s soul had been masked from James’s sight by another. This old barn didn’t appear haunted. So where had Elysia gone? Distance did limit the hound’s sight. Could she have moved far enough away in the short time he had been gone?

James stripped off his clothes and slid into his other form, but even the hound’s greater range failed to spot her. He took off into the trees.

Ghosting through the forest, his footsteps made no sound in last fall’s leaf litter. He circled the barn in wider and wider loops, but found no sign of her. It seemed she had vanished. If she were a grim, he would suspect she had jumped into the land of the dead.

He remembered Addie’s necromancer… friend and his hackles rose. He could travel to the land of the dead, but Ian Mallory was a lich king. A dead necromancer who was now a lich himself. The man’s power was nothing like James had ever felt—or was it? Elysia had made a lich in seconds with nothing but her blood.

James pulled open the portal and jumped through, his body shifting forms without his conscious control. He now stood on two legs in the dim red glow, his body a meld between hellhound and man.

Hello, little brother,
Gavin said in his old world brogue. He stepped into James’s line of sight, his form the same, except his eyes glowed red where James’s were green.

I want to learn to soul track.
James didn’t like to ask Gavin for favors. For one, the guy was insane—who knew if the information was accurate.

Have you lost someone, little brother? The pretty alchemist?

I simply wish to learn.

Will you bring her back? I like her scent, and I long to taste her.

James snarled.
Stay away from her.

Touchy, touchy.
Gavin stepped closer.
To soul track, you must have first tasted the soul.

I have.

Then it is a simple matter. Hold that taste in your mind and let your desire for it guide you.

You’re messing with me.

Gavin lifted his upper lip, exposing a muzzle full of teeth.
Faith, little brother
.

James sighed, the sound closer to a growl in this form. He pulled open the portal.

You must track from here. Only this form has that power.

James let the portal go.
Why?

This is our true form, the two as one. You must be one or the other on the mortal plane. The hound feels no desire and the human cannot see the soul.

But what if the one I seek is on the mortal plane?

The soul transcends all: there, here, and beyond.

James studied the creature before him. How could he know that? Then, too, Gavin could be blowing smoke up his ass. But James was out nothing for trying. He closed his eyes.

Yes
. Gavin moved closer. His body gave off no heat—he truly was a ghost—but James sensed his closeness.