The Blood Alchemist (The Final Formula Series, Book 2) (34 page)

Maybe that was true as well, but I didn’t acknowledge him. I carefully pipetted a milliliter of orange solution into each Mason jar.

“I tried to kill you,” Frank continued. “I blew up your alchemy shop, but you escaped.”

I looked up. “That was you?”

“You have the devil’s luck.”

I set aside the pipetter and met his hate-filled eyes. Nothing I could say would ever make it right with this man. And I really couldn’t fault him. “I can’t give you life, Frank. But I can release you.”

He stared back at me, his eyes dropping to the macabre display along the counter.

“To be dead is to always be some necro’s slave.” I picked up a well-sharpened cork knife and nicked the index finger on my left hand.

“Truer words have not been spoken,” a new voice said from the other side of the room.

I gasped and turned to find Ian standing at the end of the workbench.

“Yes, free me!” Frank shouted.

“Release him!” I called to the zombie. Odd that I didn’t want him singed by the blaze. Odd and a little unhealthy.

I flicked my finger over Frank’s jar, sending a drop of my blood into the murky liquid that held his heart—and a trace of my glowing formula. A four-foot flame blasted out of the jar, and I jerked my hand back with a gasp.

“What the hell?” Neil stepped into the room.

Frank shouted something. I didn’t catch the words before he was consumed by fire. But it hadn’t been a shout of pain; it had been a shout of release.

Neil jumped aside to avoid being burned. The flames vanished in the next instant, leaving nothing of Frank. It had truly been elemental fire.

“Grab him!” I shouted at the zombie, and once again he obeyed, wrapping his large arms around Neil’s upper body.

“What’s the meaning of this, Mallory?” Neil demanded. “Release me or consider our deal null and void.”

Ian stepped up behind me, catching my arms in his icy grip. My zombie slumped to the floor without a sound.

“Glad to see you came to your senses.” Neil tugged at his robes, straightening them with a jerk.

“It wasn’t me,” Ian said. “Though I did free you.”

I sighed. Potion-animated zombies were worthless against a real necromancer. I’d need to remember that.

Neil had started toward us, but hesitated on Ian’s explanation. Neil’s eyes narrowed and shifted to me. “You’re saying she animated a corpse?”

“My guess is that’s how she escaped the cooler.”

Neil eyed the cooler before returning his stare to me.

“Envious?” I asked. “Give me my bullets, and I’ll teach you how.”

“Make her,” Neil said to Ian. He gave me a smile. “Then you will be
compelled
to tell me.”

“How did you command the dead?” Ian asked.

I saw no reason not to answer. Maybe it would buy me some time. “The necro essence.”

“But—”

“I reconstituted it with my blood.”

“Your blood,” Ian repeated, his tone subdued.

I frowned over my shoulder at him.

His eyes met mine for an instant before shifting to Neil. “You’re certain about this?”

“Yes.” Neil closed the distance between us. He eyed the counter where I’d been working.

I glanced at the hearts. Just a drop of my blood in each jar would set off the alchemy and ignite the flames. Had the liches found the Elements yet?

“What are you doing?” Neil asked

“Righting a wrong.” I flexed my biceps, but Ian held me tight.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Neil demanded of Ian.

“This is it, Nelson. The last act I perform before you pay up.” He pushed me away from the bench and toward the steel table in the center of the room.

“You’re hardly in a position to negotiate,” Neil said.

Ian stopped and looked back at him. The two men eyed each other for one long moment before Ian started me toward the table. He was really going to do it.

My heart thumped against my breastbone. I’d deluded myself earlier; I wasn’t as indifferent to death as I thought. At least, not this death. Would Ian drop my heart in the jar Frank’s had just vacated?

We drew near the table, and I noticed the wrist and ankle restraints. Not your typical autopsy table. I tried to pull away, but Ian’s grip was far too strong.

“Why?” I whispered, my throat raw with fear. “I helped you.”

“I’m sorry, Addie.” He picked me up, and I fought in earnest, almost managing to roll off the far side of the table. Ian subdued me easily, and I wondered how many times he’d done this.

“I gave you back your body. Regenerated your heart and freed you from the crypt.”

“Yes, thank you. But in the grand scheme, it means little. Her release is all I seek.”

“Get on with it,” Neil complained. He turned and walked to the counter where I’d been working.

Ian ignored him. Instead he reached up and brushed a tear from my cheek. “He doesn’t understand what he’s destroying. But I would rather end you than give him that power.”

He shrugged off his jacket, then turned his attention to undoing his cuff links. The old gold winked in the light, and I saw the elaborate “M” scrolled on the smooth surface.

I remembered the jars in Xander’s cooler. “I’ve seen that before.”

Ian raised a brow in question.

“You cuff links—or the “M” rather.”

He turned the cuff link and examined the surface. “At the mausoleum, I’d wager.”

“No.” I glanced in Neil’s direction and continued in a whisper. “I saw it on a pair of clay bottles—or were they canopic jars?”

Ian stilled. “Where?”

A phone rang, the sound muffled until Neil pulled it from his pocket. He answered it, turning his back on us.

“Where?” Ian repeated.

“And what happens after I tell you? Will you kill me?”

“So, I trade one master for another?”

“I have no need to enslave you.”

Ian glanced at Neil, frowning. “I could Make you and command you to tell me.”

“Why haven’t you done that with Neil?”

“He doesn’t personally have the knowledge. The potion he’s brewing will enable him to get in his uncle’s inner circle and learn the location of the Deacon’s tomb. But one of the key ingredients of that potion is failure. Hence, your blood.”

In other words, everything that had been done to me had been to secure Neil’s place in necromancer hierarchy. Fury filled me, but I couldn’t give in to that now. First, I had to convince Ian to let me go; then I could take care of Neil.

“I’ll swear a blood oath to tell you all I know,” I said.

Ian focused on me once more. “You would do that?”

“Yes.” I didn’t look away.

Ian’s intense blue eyes bore into my own, calculating.

“The Elements are at University Hospital?” Neil said into the phone. “So? Get over there. Finish them.”

I swallowed. Why had they taken Rowan’s body to the hospital? Or had one of the others been hurt? I had to convince Ian to free me.

“Once Neil brews the Final Formula—and he won’t have any trouble if I’m at his command—he becomes a full-fledged necromancer. He won’t need to give you any information; he’ll command you to do his bidding.”

“You’re implying that I have no honor?” Neil had finished his call.

“I’d be surprised if you can even spell the word,” I said.

Neil narrowed his eyes before turning back to Ian. “Come get me when you’re done. I have things to do.” He turned and left the room.

I watched him go—as best I could from my prone position. I’d like to think that Neil, a man who’d once been my friend, didn’t want to watch me die. But who knew what the guy really thought? With his family history, he couldn’t be mentally stable.

Ian wordlessly began to undo my bonds.

I stared at him. “You’ll free me?”

“You will personally show me these canopic jars. That is your oath. You will not be able to break it.”

“Of course. And if it doesn’t lead to your daughter, will you give me back to Neil?”

Ian simply met my gaze, saying nothing.

Very well. That left me one course of action. I climbed off the far side of the table and faced him across it. I’d only get one shot at this.

“I’ll need a knife, or something sharp.” My shaky voice wasn’t entirely a staged effect.

Ian pulled a dagger from his belt.

I swallowed and accepted it. The handle appeared hand-carved, and I thought it might be ivory—except, I didn’t think ivory yellowed like that. No, not ivory, bone. The heavy blade looked like a hunting weapon, though I supposed it would be suited to cracking open a ribcage to the beating contents within.

The dagger was heavier than I expected, so pretending to fumble it wasn’t a complete ruse—nor was jumping aside when it landed near my bare toes.

“Crap,” I muttered.

“Careful,” Ian said.

Squatting beside the table, I pulled out the nearly empty vial of my blood and necro essence, and popped off the lid. Pressing my nicked finger over the vial mouth, I inverted it. The thick mixture began to crawl down the side of the vial.

Too slow. I shook the vial, encouraging the mixture to move faster.

“Addie, do you need help?” Ian began to squat on the other side of the table.

Another vigorous shake and a droplet broke free, splattering the tip of my finger.

“I got it.” I snatched up the knife with the opposite hand, just as Ian came into view under the table. “Don’t you have anything smaller?” I pressed the hand holding the vial into my dark skirt, hiding it.

“No.” He rose to his feet.

I quickly tucked the vial back into its pocket, careful not to rub off the blood, and stood.

“Then this will have to do.” I curled my fingers around the blade to hide what I’d done. “I swear on the souls of my forgotten ancestors that I will help you find your daughter, Ian Mallory.”

I pulled the blade along my index finger, wincing for effect, though the blade didn’t pierce my skin. I lifted my finger, exposing the blood droplet.

Ian stared at me.

“What?” My heart rate increased. Did he suspect?

“I asked only to be shown the jars, yet you would bind yourself to help me, knowing that it wouldn’t secure your own safety?”

“If what you’ve told me is true, she’s an innocent in this. I’d help her with or without you. Actually, you can go screw yourself.”

He lifted his brows, but I didn’t think it had anything to do with the last part.

“Well?” Maybe I should have demanded something. He was probably suspicious.

Ian stepped closer, and I lifted my finger to his mouth. His cold tongue scraped the tender flesh, and I drew a startled breath through my nose.

He straightened and a frown creased his forehead.

“Ian, don’t move—and don’t animate anything.” After all, there were four bodies in the room. I turned and headed for the workbench.

“What was that?” Ian asked.

“The same mixture I used on the zombie.” I picked up the cork knife and nicked another finger. Good thing I healed quickly or I’d need a blood transfusion. I flicked my bleeding finger over the first jar and it burst into instant flame.

I finished off the rest of the jars, casting frequent glances at Ian. I wasn’t certain how long my mixture would hold him. It had worked a lot longer than I expected on the zombie. Ian said nothing while I worked.

“Take me to my bullets,” I said when I finished.

Ian nodded and started for the door.

I picked up my flask of fire solution and hurried after him. I fell in step beside him in the hall. “Don’t hinder or harm me.”

Ian glanced over, but didn’t comment.

I limped along as he led me back through the building, returning us to the sparsely furnished office we’d started in. Neil sat behind his desk, but came to his feet when we walked in the room.

“She isn’t dead,” he said to Ian.

“Hold him,” I said, limping over to lean against the desk. Damn, my foot ached.

Ian did as told, wrapping his arms around Neil’s upper body and holding him in place.

“Let me go, Mallory,” Neil said. “Or I swear I’ll never get you the information you need.”

“He’s under compulsion,” I said. “It’s me you should be begging.”

“What?”

Ian didn’t comment. Oddly, he didn’t look pissed either, but then, Ian didn’t always react the way I expected.

“Where are my bullets?” I asked.

“Behind the landscape.” Ian nodded at the picture hanging behind the desk.

“You’re kidding.”

When he didn’t answer, I lifted the picture from the wall, exposing a safe. “People still hide safes behind pictures? Isn’t that the first place thieves look?”

I turned to face the two men. “Ian, release him. Neil, open it.” I nodded at the safe.

“I’m not under compulsion,” Neil said.

“Perhaps I shall command Ian to Make you, then have him command you to open it. Or I could just tie you to the table downstairs and burn down the whole place. Your call.”

Neil gave me a glare. “There’s the Amelia I know.” He walked to the safe and began to spin the dial.

I frowned at his back. Was that true? He kept saying that I’d been ruthless, obsessed with my own goals. But he also knew how much that bothered me now.

The safe popped open and Neil stepped back.

“Ian, unload the safe and set everything on the desk.”

He did as told, and I drew a deep breath as he set the first boxes of Heart Seekers on the ink blotter. I’d known they were my bullets, but seeing the actual boxes that I’d helped fill really brought it home.

In the end, Ian unloaded nine boxes from the safe. I guess that explained how Neil had been able to show Megan my bullets.

“Where did you get the bullets? Lawson?” I tried to recall how many boxes Lawson had bought. Then, too, Neil had another potential source. “George?”

“Does it matter?”

Probably not. I held Neil’s gaze. “But why? Why kill the magical with my bullets?”

“It’s about time alchemy got the respect it deserves. The magical look down on us. The mundane despise us. Aren’t you sick of it?”

“Yes, but murdering innocents doesn’t earn us respect.”

“And your alternative is to heal a few burn victims? Please. They don’t respect you. They see you as their servant. Someone to work wonders because they lack the talent to do it themselves. And then they have the nerve to call
us
talentless.”

“But you’re not talentless. You’re a necromancer.”

I glanced at Ian, half expecting a comment, but he simply watched the exchange, his face impassive.

Neil laughed. “I’d love to see you try to convince my uncle of that. Did you know I was named his heir? He even had it written in the family record—then I turned out to be stunted.” He snorted. “He didn’t even bother to strike my name because everyone expected me to go insane before I was ten.”

“So you took away a little boy’s mother because you had a sucky childhood?”