The Final Formula (11 page)

“Nice to meet you.” Donovan gave each of us a smile, then exchanged a handshake with James, who stood closer. The gold highlights in his brown hair and deep tan spoke of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors. Though, the full beard and flannel shirt pushed him toward the Grizzly Adams category of outdoorsman.

“And the little alchemist.” He turned to me with a smile.

“I doubt there are many people you can’t call little.” My hand disappeared into his.

His hazel eyes twinkled. “Not many.”

“Earth Element, right?”

His grin broadened, but before he could speak, the outer door opened. Cora walked in, Era following in her wake. I suppressed a groan. Both women pulled up short when they saw us.

Cora rounded on Rowan. “What are
they
doing here?”

“I’ll go get my camera,” Era announced. She didn’t wait for a response before darting off down the hallway leading deeper into the house. I wasn’t sure what to make of her comment, but didn’t get to ask.

“Donovan, would you show our guests to their rooms?” Rowan asked.

“Guests?” Cora demanded. “No. You will not bring an alchemist and a grim into our home.”

“Cora.”

“Our
home
, Rowan.”

“They’re already here.” He turned toward the hall Era had disappeared into. “Join me.”

“I will not stand for this. Isn’t it enough that you let her rub some poison into Era’s arm?”

“Poison?” I demanded. “That was—”

She whirled to face me. “You are not a part of this conversation, alchemist.”

“You’re talking about me. Technically, I
am
the conversation.”

Cora caught a handful of the over-sized button-up shirt I still wore. She gave it a faint frown then pulled me in her face. “Do not test me.” Her eyes shifted from cornflower blue to black indigo.

James appeared beside me and caught her wrist. “Let her go.”

“James, don’t. It’s okay.” I didn’t want him sullying his reputation on my behalf. Of course, being a grim might have covered that.

“Addie means you no harm, and neither do I.” He released her, but didn’t step away.

Cora let go of my shirt. “I’m going to hold you to that, grim.” She spoke to him, but her eyes never left mine.

“His name is James.” I held her gaze, refusing to be the first to look away.

“Cora, join me,” Rowan repeated. He didn’t wait for a response, but turned and walked off down the hall.

Cora gave me a final glare and started after him, her heels clacking on the floor.

“Have you eaten?” Donovan asked.

“Um, no.” I studied the big guy, trying to gage his reaction to our houseguest status. He looked more amused than angry.

“Let me show you to your rooms, then we’ll take care of that.” He started up the stairs that ran along one wall.

I glanced at James. “Well, this should be fun.”

He didn’t look so certain.

“Come on.” I patted his shoulder. “It can’t be any worse than your brothers.”

He grunted, but followed me up the stairs.

Someone knocked at my door, and I sat up so fast I tumbled off the bed. I landed on my butt and sat there. This wasn’t my workshop. I ran my fingers through my loose hair as the events of the day before returned to me. I looked up at the clock on the nightstand. 7:39 a.m. The lateness of the hour surprised me. I didn’t usually sleep so soundly.

Another knock got me on my feet, and I tugged Rowan’s white button-up shirt into place. I’d used it as a nightgown since I had nothing else with me. The shirt hung to mid-thigh, longer than some mini-skirts I’d seen.

I pulled the door open. “Yeah?” I expected James; I didn’t expect
him
.

Rowan cocked a brow. “Good morning to you, too.”

I resisted the urge to give my makeshift nightgown another tug. “Forgive me,” I said. “I figured the social niceties were beyond you. You left us last night without so much as a good night.”

“My apologies. I didn’t realize my actions would cause you such distress.”

I snorted. “Hardly. What do you want?”

“Not a morning person, I take it.”

“Not when I have to deal with you first thing.”

“Again with the insults… and when I come bearing gifts.” He held out one of two white shopping bags.

“What’s this?” I eyed the bag, but didn’t take it.

“Clothing, although,” he looked me over, “I do enjoy seeing you in only my shirt.”

I snatched the bag from his hand, hoping my blush wasn’t visible.

The door across the hall opened and James stepped out. He wore the sweatpants and nothing else. “Addie?” He rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand, his dark hair sticking out at odd angles.

Rowan handed James the other bag, describing its contents.

I opened my bag and glanced inside to find a pair of jeans, a black shirt, a pack of socks and a pack of undies. Everything still had the tags.

“Breakfast will be served in the sunroom at eight o’clock,” Rowan said.

“The sunroom?”

“Back of the house. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“You’re giving us twenty minutes to get ready?”

Rowan glanced at this wristwatch. “Nineteen minutes.”

He turned and headed back down the hall. “Hustle up.”

With a growl, I stepped back into my room and slammed the door.

Rowan’s gift didn’t improve my
humor. Oh, the clothes fit well. Disturbingly well. I even approved of the black three-quarter-sleeve shirt. My problem lay with the red block letters emblazoned across the front that read “Flammable.”

After a bit of exploring, I found the sunroom Rowan had mentioned. The man sat in a wicker chair reading a newspaper, the sun shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined most of the back wall. Another wall displayed a series of black and white photos that looked like something from a museum gallery, but I didn’t stop to look. I marched across the room and stopped before him.

“I suppose you think this is funny,” I said.

He turned the page, but didn’t look up. “What’s that?” Sunlight caught on his hair, setting the dark red strands aglow.

I crossed my arms. He knew exactly what I meant.

After a moment of silence, he sighed and lowered his paper.

I gestured at my shirt. “This.”

His eyes dipped to the bold red letters across my chest and his lips quirked. “I find it more refreshing than funny.”

“Hey, what’s up?” James asked, walking up behind me. I jumped in surprise. I hadn’t heard him enter.

“I’m complimenting His Grace on his charming fashion sense.” I turned to face him.

James glanced at my shirt and immediately rubbed his lower face. He wasn’t fooling me. He thought it funny, too. Apparently, Rowan didn’t pick on his magical guests. James wore jeans and a retro bowling shirt in dark green and black.

The paper rattled and Rowan got to his feet. He looked more casual today in a beige pullover, though he still wore the dark slacks. I suspected Rowan wasn’t a jeans kind of guy.

“Before this is over, I’m buying you a shirt,” I said.

“What will it say?”

A man in the now familiar black livery entered the room pushing a cart. He stopped beside a round table close to the glass wall and began unloading it. James moved closer to inspect the platters of sausage and eggs.

“Well?” Rowan looked at me expectantly.

“You’re a pompous ass.”

“I’ve been called worse.” Rowan started for the table. “While you’re thinking of a slogan, let me share what I learned from the PIA.”

“What?” I hurried after him.

“I spoke to Director Waylon at the regional office downtown. He had no raids in Portsmouth yesterday—nor any the night the Alchemica burned.”

“Damn.” Another dead end. I dropped into a seat while Rowan pulled out the chair beside mine.

“I also asked who oversaw the Alchemica investigation, and Waylon thought him competent.”

I looked up. “What did he say?”

Rowan picked up the plate of sausages and selected a few. “It’s a man who’s been with the agency nearly a decade. Waylon has high confidence in him.”

“Did you get his name?” I didn’t expect to know him, but maybe we could look the guy up, get his take on the investigation.

Rowan passed the plate to James. “It’s an agent by the name of Robert Lawson.”

“Lawson?” I hadn’t expected that.

James looked up, his gaze meeting mine. He clearly remembered the name.

“You know him?” Rowan asked.

“He visited the shop a few days before the raid. He claimed to be registering my bullets. He’s also a Sensitive and nearly wet himself when he saw James.”

James snorted.

Rowan glanced between us. “What happened?”

“Addie told him she used a potion on me,” James answered. “She made him focus on her.”

“He was there to see me anyway.”

“And he bought it?” Rowan asked.

“I threw in a little blackmail. I let him know that I knew he was a Sensitive.”

“And a few days, later the gun shop was raided.”

“Are you implying the raid was my fault—because I learned his secret?”

“They
were
there for you,” Rowan reminded me. “But I don’t think it’s because you learned his secret.”

“Then why?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” He pulled his phone from his pants pocket. “Waylon needs to know about this agent’s involvement in both cases.”

I leaned over and caught his wrist. “Wait.”

Rowan looked up, his brows raised in question.

“You blow the whistle, and we might lose him.”

“Lose him? The PIA will have him.”

“And I won’t.” I released his wrist.

“Ah.” The corner of his mouth twisted. James was already grinning.

“He gave me his card,” I continued. “He wanted me to come in for an interview. I think it’s time I obliged him—but I won’t be the one talking.”

“I think I see where this is going,” Rowan said.

“Yeah. I hope he doesn’t track me across the state and force me to come live with him.”

James pressed a hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh.

“It’s only until we straighten this out.” Rowan turned his attention to his breakfast. “You’re entirely too much trouble for an extended stay.”

Chapter
11

I
pressed the phone to my
ear and drummed my fingers on Rowan’s desk, waiting for Agent Lawson to answer. Unlike Rowan’s office downtown, his office here at the manor contained a large mahogany desk. My pack lay on the polished surface between us, the front pocket open where I’d dug out Lawson’s card.

“Lawson,” a male voice said in my ear.

I jerked my attention back to the phone. “Addie.”

A moment’s silence. “The little alchemist from Portsmouth.”

I bit back a retort. “You wanted me to call,” I reminded him. “To set up an interview?”

“Yes, I do, but I’m no longer in Portsmouth. I’m in Cincinnati. Can I—”

“You’re in Cincinnati?” I glanced at Rowan. He straightened and leaned forward to brace his elbows on his desk. James stood beside me, listening as intently. “What a coincidence, so am I.”

“You are?” Agent Lawson sounded surprised.

“Yep. I’m available today if you’d like to meet somewhere.”

“Today.” He seemed to think on it. “Would you hold a moment?”

I could hear muffled movement in the background, and then silence.

“Sounds like he left the room,” James said.

I placed a hand over the receiver. “You can hear that?”

He shrugged.

“A shame you passed out after the shop blew. I didn’t have much luck eavesdropping on the two-dozen calls His Grace made on the way out of Portsmouth.”

Rowan leaned back in his chair. “Hardly two dozen.” A corner of his mouth quirked.

“You do know it’s dangerous to talk on the phone and drive? Or is that not a concern you have?”

A rattle on the phone and Lawson came back on the line. “I’m really tied up with a stakeout, but maybe we could meet before—”

“Stakeout?” I cut in. “Cool. Will you be sitting in a car, drinking bad coffee, and watching some nefarious alchemist roam the shadows?”

He snorted. “You watch too many movies. It’s a nightclub.”

I grunted. “Not an alchemist then.”

“Actually.” He stopped.

“Don’t leave me hanging, Agent Lawson. Anyone I know?”

“That depends. You want to level with me?”

“Level?”

“Those bullets you make are the work of a master.”

“I keep one chained in the basement.”

“Now, Addie.”

I bit my lip. I wanted in on this. If he tailed an alchemist, it might be someone I knew. Someone who could help shine some light on what happened to the Alchemica, and by extension, what happened to me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one to survive. My heart beat harder considering it. And if my growing suspicions were right, Lawson might be the guy to lead me to him.

“Here’s the deal,” I said. “Let me tag along, and I’ll level with you.”

“Tag along?”

“If I’m who you think I am, I might be able to ID this guy.”

Silence. I could almost hear the wheels turning.

“Being a Sensitive isn’t going to help you get close to an alchemist.” A little blackmail never hurts.

“All right,” Lawson said. “We’ll meet early, before he gets there. We can have a little chat first.”

“Sounds good. Where and when?”

“I could pick you up.”

“This isn’t a date. Where and when?”

He sighed and then rattled off the details. I wrote down the address and ended the call.

“Well?” Rowan took the phone from me and returned it to the charging cradle.

“Lawson is in town tailing an alchemist. That’s all I know. I’m going to meet him at a nightclub tonight.”

Rowan propped an elbow on the arm of his chair and rubbed his chin. “Did he say why he’s so interested in you?”

“He knows that those bullets were made by a master.
How
is one of several questions I want answered.”

“And are you going to level with him? If he insists on seeing your arms?”

I’d already considered that. “I intend for him to see my arms, but he won’t see my tattoos.” I gestured at my pack where it lay on the desk between us. “Shall I show you?”

“The cream?” James asked. He turned to Rowan. “It’s the coolest thing.”

Rowan considered us both and then nodded.

I turned and grinned at James. Finally, we were back in the chase to find some answers. “Want to take me dancing?”

James returned my grin. “Sounds like fun.”

My night out wasn’t going
to be as much fun as I thought—not that I really thought it would be. I’m not a social butterfly; I’m an alchemist. Give me a beaker, a hot plate, and a few random ingredients, and I’m happy. Make me spend the evening at a nightclub, and well, a root canal is suddenly looking like a great alternative. But my social apathy wasn’t the problem tonight. It was the company I was forced to keep.

We stopped across the street from the neon monstrosity that was our destination and observed a moment of silence.

I cleared my throat. “An alchemist, an Element, and a grim walk into a bar…”

“It’s a club,” James said.

“Why do you get top billing?” Rowan asked.

“It’s my joke,” I said.

“What’s the punch line?”

“Why do we need you again?”

“That’s not all that funny.”

I sighed and started across the street. Rowan, Lord of Flames and Wit. At least they give you Novocain with a root canal.

“Quit fidgeting,” Rowan said as we stepped up on the curb.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t let me have my vials.”

“You don’t need them when you’re with me.”

The egotistical— I took a deep breath and forced myself to hold my tongue.

“Besides, where would you put them?” he continued.

I released the breath I’d just taken. “I hate this. I feel naked.”

“Without your potions or in that outfit?”

I glared at him and kept walking. I wasn’t comfortable in these clothes, but Era had insisted. With Rowan’s help, she had found me suitable clothing for this outing. I’d suggested something sleeveless, but the open back and short skirt had been her idea. As we drew near the line outside the club, I could see that she was right. The young women, most with bare arms crossed against the chill, wore as little as I did.

“You look good.” Rowan’s warm breath brushed against my ear. I jumped in surprise at his nearness. I’d been so intent on our surroundings that I hadn’t seen him lean down.

He straightened. “Follow me.”

He took the lead, and I frowned at his back. I couldn’t even exchange an eye roll with James; he was busy studying the crowd. Era had settled on the bad boy look for my sidekick. The distressed jeans and fitted black T-shirt suited him. More than one girl elbowed her neighbor as we passed. Well, the girls who weren’t watching Rowan. He wore black slacks and a black button-up shirt of some silky material. He’d rolled up the sleeves and left the buttons open at his throat, but even that attempt at casualness didn’t take away from his presence. The man moved through the crowd like he owned it, and no one challenged him. It wasn’t the clothing, and without the gray robes, no one knew his identity as Flame Lord. He commanded respect on attitude alone.

Rowan led us straight to the front of the line. A mumbled word and a handshake with the bouncer, and we were through the doors and into the dark, bass-pumping atmosphere. I’d pointed out before we arrived that neither James nor I had any identification on us. I guess Rowan had been right about it not being a problem.

He didn’t hesitate, but led us to the upper level in the back, overlooking the rest of the club. Lawson said he’d meet me here, but he wasn’t at any of the tables.

“Have you been here before?” I asked Rowan.

“No.” He pulled out a high-backed stool from the nearest table and held it for me. I let him help me into the chair. “I’ll send you a drink. What’ll you have?” He and James would be waiting at the bar while I met with Lawson.

As always, the personal question threw me. What did I like to drink? Did I drink?

“Addie?” Rowan prompted.

“Surprise me.”

He nodded and then he and James headed for the bar.

I turned my attention to the crowd, looking for Lawson or his mystery alchemist. Fearing I’d give too much away, I hadn’t asked Lawson if he sought an Alchemica alchemist. If he did, I had no clue why he’d look in a place like this. Assuming my fellow alchemists were like me, this would be the last place they’d want to spend an evening.

A waitress stopped at my table to deliver a drink in a long-stemmed glass. I took a tentative sip and smiled to myself. Not bad. I guess Rowan was better at selecting my drinks than my T-shirts.

Low voices drew my attention to the next table, and the trio of young men gathered around it.

“Seriously, man, it’s amazing,” a guy in a loud paisley shirt told his friend. He sat something down in front of him and I stared in surprise. A vial.

“It’ll ramp you up,” Paisley said.

His friend eyed the vial and licked his thin lips.

“Brady tried it,” Paisley said, waving a hand toward the third young man. “Last weekend.”

“Yeah, man,” Brady said. “It was a trip. Next pay day, I’m going to up the dosage.”

“You felt the magic?” Thin Lips asked.

Magic? I doubted that.

“It was such a rush,” Brady agreed.

Thin Lips picked up the vial, glancing around them. He caught me watching and got to his feet. A gesture, and he lead his companions away.

I sighed and turned back to my drink. Nice. It seemed magic had even made its way into the recreational drugs. Or at least it was advertised as such. It probably wasn’t legitimate. No wonder alchemists had such a bad name. Anyone could mix some crap, call it a potion, and claim to be an alchemist.

I went back to scanning the crowd and noticed a few other vials trading hands in the darkness. This must have been what led Lawson to this place. I’d have to ask him…if he ever made an appearance.

The skin crawled between my shoulder blades, and I twisted around to check behind me. The dim lighting left the cluster of couches along the back wall in shadow. I couldn’t pick out any particular person watching me, but between the darkness and the crowd, I couldn’t tell.

Shaking off the sensation, I turned back to my drink. Lawson must be running late.

I hadn’t worn a watch, so I didn’t know how long I sat there by myself. I’d eaten most of the peanuts in the bowl on the table and my third drink stood half empty when James returned. He sat his beer on the table and took a seat beside me.

I glanced at his beverage, but decided not to tease him about being underage. “I think I’ve been stood up,” I said instead.

“His loss. That’s a great look.”

It took me moment to realize he referred to my clothes. I threw a peanut at him. He snapped it out of the air and popped it in his mouth.

“Yeah, I can go work the corner when we’re through here.”

“It’s not that bad. Hot, but tasteful.”

“Thanks, but I’m a jeans and T-shirt gal.”

“Or black robes. That concealing cream is awesome. You can’t see your tattoos at all.”

I glanced down at my upper arms. The absence of my tattoos left me feeling even more naked—if that was possible.

“Where’d Rowan go?” I wanted to tell him about my observations and see if he’d heard of any recreational drugs in the form of potions. Plus, I’d had about enough of this place. “I hope we’re leaving.”

“It’s not a bad place.”

Maybe to an eighteen year old. “Too noisy.” I nodded toward the dance floor. “And sweaty.”

James laughed. “You sound like an old woman.”

I chucked another peanut, which he caught and ate. “You could scoot closer to the bowl. You needn’t insult me to get some peanuts.”

He smiled and leaned over to grab a handful. “What? You’re always telling me you’re older than me.”

“Not old enough to be your mother.” I glanced toward the bar. “Oh, joy. Look who’s about to
grace
us with his presence.”

James snorted and ate a few more peanuts as Rowan approached the table.

“What’s with the frown?” Rowan took the third stool, a tumbler full of an amber liquid in hand. “Club not to your liking?”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s a bit loud.” He took a sip from his glass.

James laughed. “See?”

“What?” Rowan asked.

“He’s accusing us of being old.”

“I prefer mature.”

“That’s it?” I asked. “No argument? Or do you not have the same aging concerns as the rest of us?”

He gave me a smirk and took another sip from his glass.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“How old are you?”

“I asked first.”

He set his glass on the table and leaned forward to fold his arms beside it. “I was thirty-seven when the magic came back.”

I did the math and blinked. “You’re fifty-six?”

“I will be next month.”

Holy crap. “You don’t even look thirty-seven.”

He grinned, and I noticed those faint laugh lines in the corners of his eyes again. “Thank you.” He lifted his glass in salute and leaned back in his chair once more. “Now that we’ve discovered how little I belong here, we can finish these drinks and—”

“Excuse me,” a voice said beside me. A pretty blonde stood between James and me. “Would you like to dance?” she asked James.

I had to fight the urge to giggle at his surprised expression.

“Um, we were—” he began.

“Go on,” I cut in. “Don’t let us old farts hold you back.”

He and the girl both gave me a frown, though for different reasons I suspected.

“Addie,” James tried again.

“My brother’s a little shy,” I told the girl. “Go on, James. It took a lot of courage for…” I arched a questioning brow at the girl.

“Tasha.” She smiled.

“For Tasha to ask,” I finished.

James shook his head, but got to his feet. “Thank you,” he said to the girl. “You old folks enjoy yourselves.” He led the girl toward the dance floor.

I propped my chin on my hand and watched them walk away.

“You look pleased with yourself,” Rowan said.

“I’ve been trying for months to get him to acknowledge the interest girls show in him.”

“He’s a grim.”

“So? He’s adorable.” James had made it to the dance floor. “And damn, the boy can move.” I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, what with the animal grace and all.