The Alchemist's Flame (21 page)

“In the car. I’m going to take him home.”

“Can I expect you before dawn?”

I looked over at Rowan. There was no way I could leave him until I knew he was all right. “Probably not. Will you let Elysia know?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Ian. For all of it.”

“You don’t need to thank me. And don’t worry about Rowan. If he’s still breathing, he’ll be fine. The life force takes time to regenerate.”

I thanked him again and ended the call. The life force. Dear God.

“Has the bleeding stopped?” Era asked.

I made myself quit pacing and turned to face Rowan’s big bed. Rowan lay on his stomach, his skin still pale, especially against the black sheets. He hadn’t regained consciousness. Not even when James carried him up here, or when James and Donovan changed him out of his tuxedo and into a pair of charcoal gray pajama bottoms. He had even slept through Cora’s efforts to stop the bleeding from the three deep gashes on the back of his left shoulder. The bleeding hadn’t been excessive, but the fact that Rowan still bled, almost two hours after being slashed was what had me pacing.

“It’s stopped,” Cora announced, peeking beneath the compress she had been pressing to his shoulder.

“Oh, thank God,” Era said. “If he’s healing, he’ll be okay.” She embraced Donovan and got one of his big bear hugs in return.

“James,” Cora said. “Would you get me some fresh water?”

“Sure.” James left his place at the head of Rowan’s bed and gathered the soiled rags and bowl from the nightstand. He carried it into Rowan’s bathroom, and I could hear water running in the sink a moment later.

“You’re sure the bleeding has stopped?” I moved to stand on the opposite side of the bed from Cora.

Cora looked up. Her frown didn’t completely shadow the shifting blue of her eyes. “There are no liquids leaking from his skin.”

I ignored her glare. “Good.” I had wanted to believe Ian that Rowan would be all right, but it really bothered me that Rowan hadn’t healed the way he usually did.

James returned with the water, and Cora used it to clean the back of Rowan’s shoulder. I sat down across from her. She was right; the slashes had finally sealed, though they were still an angry red.

“It looks infected,” I said.

“Elements don’t get infections,” Cora said without looking up.

“Shall I see if there’s any rubbing alcohol?” James asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Though it’s a shame he’s not awake for that.”

James grinned, getting the reference, and left the room.

“Why?” Era asked.

“Rowan cleaned my shoulder with rubbing alcohol after I got shot. It hurt like hell.”

Era laughed. “So, this isn’t about an infection, it’s about vengeance.”

Cora got to her feet. “He’ll be fine. Call me when he wakes. I want to hear the story of how he was injured from him.”

“Geez, Cora,” Era complained.

Cora ignored her and left the room.

“Sorry, Addie,” Era said.

“Don’t worry about it.” I smiled to reassure her. “She’s just worried about Rowan.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Era gave me a hug. “Call me if you need me?” She left the room, passing James on her way out. She ducked her head and didn’t speak to him.

James watched her go, his expression no happier than my own. I really hated seeing the two of them at odds.

He sighed, then walked over to offer me a bottle. “I found some rubbing alcohol.”

“Vengeance is mine.” I glanced up at Donovan. “Or do you agree with Cora?” Was I foolish to rub alcohol on the wound?

“Those scratches look inflamed,” Donovan said. “I don’t think disinfecting them would be a bad idea.”

I nodded and sat down on the bed. James handed me a clean washcloth. Rowan groaned when I dabbed the wound, but didn’t wake. I gentled my touch. Contrary to my earlier teasing, I found no pleasure in causing him more pain.

“Barring anything alchemical, that’s the best I can do.” I set the cloth aside.

“He’ll be fine,” Donovan reassured me. He turned to James. “Guess I’ll hit the rack. Big day tomorrow.”

“Yes,” James agreed.

“How’s that?” I asked.

“The rest of the Elements will be arriving over the course of the day,” James said. “We’ll be hanging out at the airport and shuttling them to the lodge.”

“Right.” Soon there would be nine Elemental families, every Element in the world, right here in Cincinnati. I rubbed my forehead. Tomorrow was day four. I was running out of time.

Donovan gripped my shoulder. “Get some sleep, little alchemist.” A final smile, and he and James left the room, pulling the door closed behind them.

“Huh.” I glanced down at Rowan. “Looks like I’m expected to sleep here.”

Warm fingers on my cheek pulled me from a dreamless sleep. I opened my eyes to stare into gray irises ringed in charcoal.

“Hey,” Rowan whispered, his voice a little rough.

The events that led to this moment came back to me and I sat up. The world beyond the windows was still dark, and a glance at the clock on the nightstand revealed that only a couple of hours had passed.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Tired.”

The honesty surprised me. “It is the middle of the night.”

“True.” He rolled onto his back, grimacing a little as he leaned against his sore shoulder. He sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. The movement produced an interesting display along the muscles of his chest and arms. He took his hands from his face and I quickly looked up.

“Let me see your shoulder. Those slashes looked nasty.”

He obliged without comment, rolling away from me. I reached out and lightly ran my fingers along the three scabbed wounds. They weren’t as red, but still swollen and warm to the touch.

“I’ve never seen you take so long to heal.”

“It wasn’t a natural wound.” He returned to his back. His eyes drifted downward over the white button-down shirt I wore. It was his.

“I was too lazy to go see if I still had any pajamas here.”

“I like seeing you in my shirts.”

“Yeah?” My cheeks warmed, and I remembered the first night I spent in the manor. All I had had to sleep in had been one of his shirts.

“Kiss me.”

“And now he starts with the commands.” I braced my hands against his bare chest and leaned down to kiss him. I took my time, indulging myself. We were always in such a rush, running from one disaster to the next. Stolen kisses had become the norm. I intended to change that.

When I pulled away, his eyes were on full glow. For once, the sight relieved me rather than made me worry about him. Since Gavin had sunk his claws into him, I hadn’t seen any fire in his eyes.

He reached up and lightly brushed my lips with his fingertips. I kissed them before he trailed them down my jaw to my throat, stopping at the top button of my—his shirt. His other hand joined the first and he began to undo the buttons.

“I do like you in my shirts,” he said as he worked, “but I like you better without them.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

His glowing eyes flicked up to my face, a mischievous smile curling his lips. My heart rolled over in my chest. God, I loved this man.

The realization smacked me right between the eyes. I had known on some level, but I had never truly confessed it, not even to myself. I loved him.

“Did I lose you?” Rowan’s voice broke into my thoughts. He reached up and cupped my cheek. “That mind never shuts down, does it?”

“You managed to switch it off, once.”

“Then move closer. I want to try again.” He still lay on his back, not having moved since we began.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Is that a pun?”

“Rowan.” I laughed.

He remained on his back and grinned at me.

“Or perhaps you expect me to do all the work?” I teased.

He sat up. “I don’t dare.” He leaned in and kissed me, pushing me onto my back against the pillows.

“I was teasing,” I said when he finished the kiss. “I really don’t mind.”

His glowing eyes held mine. “Please don’t tempt me.”

I puzzled over that a moment, then I understood. “You’ve got to be in control. Even here.”

He pulled away, frowning now. “It’s not an ego thing. I’m not—”

I pressed a finger to his lips. “I get it.” He was talking about his magic, the Fire. “Donovan once told me that most Fire Elements are celibate.”

“I used to be.”

Wow, the gloves were really coming off. “What changed your mind? Do you get more control as you get older?”

“No. Control is one hundred percent mental. Though learning to master your emotions does improve with practice.” His expression grew more serious as he spoke. “But you asked what changed my mind. It was you.”

“Me?” He had only met me four months ago. “You’ve been a Fire Element for twenty years.”

“You’re one to criticize. You were a virgin.” He smirked. “A forty-two-year-old virgin.”

“Hey, you don’t know that. The Final Formula might have regenerated…things.” I was blushing.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, no wonder you were so grouchy when I first met you. Monk boy.”

“That’s it. Make fun of my affliction.”

I snorted at his word choice. “By the way, I was supposed to go get Cora when you woke.”

He arched a brow.

“Are you saying that can wait?”

“If she’s awake, she knows that I am.”

Because she could sense his Element riding his emotions. “This is so embarrassing.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

I looped my arms around his shoulders. “Confident bastard.”

“Yes.” He kissed me, this exchange by no means slow and leisurely. He finished unbuttoning my shirt while he had me distracted, then pushed it open. He leaned back to take in the view—something that should have embarrassed me, but in truth, made me feel sexy as hell.

I was trying to puzzle out why that was, when he slid a finger along the waistband of my underwear.

“And these are the panties that barely qualified as such?” he asked.

The things fit like a second skin. Thin, translucent, and made of more lace than any other material. “Yes. Rather pointless, don’t you agree?”

Heat enveloped my lower body, this not of my own making. I gasped and looked down. The skimpy undies were gone. “You ashed my underwear?”

“They seemed to offend you, so…” He shrugged a shoulder, his expression not remotely apologetic.

“That’s not fair. I can’t do the same to you.” I slid a finger along the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

He caught my hand and brought it to his mouth. “You first.” He kissed my fingertips one at a time then traced the lines on my palm with his lips. By the time he had worked his way up my arm, I was squirming. Then he turned his attention to the rest of my body. He seemed determined to explore every inch of me, his strong fingers and warm tongue working in concert to drive me insane. Each time I asked him to remove his pajama bottoms, he would kiss me to silence, then go right back to tormenting me. The man was merciless.

I wouldn’t have believed it possible, not with all the problems facing us, but somehow he did it again. He made me stop thinking. My mind went blank. All my higher cognitive skills took a break, leaving only the primal ones to fill the gap. I might tease Rowan about being a control freak, but the truth was, I wasn’t a whole lot better. Yet with him, I was able to relinquish control. I let go.

I blinked my eyes into focus and gradually came back to myself. My mind could only remain silent so long, no matter what sorts of things Rowan coerced my body into doing.

He lay on his side, gold flickering through his orange eyes as he watched me.

“In case the vacant stare didn’t give me away, you did it again.”

He smiled, but didn’t speak.

I rolled onto my side, rubbing my legs against his—and encountered fabric. He still wore the pajama bottoms. I was fully aware that he had used only his hands and mouth on my body, but at some point, I thought he would have at least gotten naked.

“Rowan?”

He pushed himself up and scooted away until our bodies were no longer touching. “I think this evening took more out of me than I realized.”

I sat up. “You’re tired?”

“No, I’m too on edge. Too…out of control.”

What had it cost him to confess that? “It’s okay.” I reached up to touch his cheek, but he captured my hand.

“Sorry,” he whispered. He kissed my fingers, then released them and climbed from the bed. He crossed the room without looking back and vanished into his bathroom. A moment later, the shower kicked on.

I studied the closed door. I wanted to believe him; it had been an incredibly stressful evening. But David’s admonishments and Cora’s accusations plagued me. Rowan had survived the Fire the longest, but was it because his will was so much stronger than the others, or because he hadn’t found a reason to lower his guard until now?

Until me.

Chapter
21

I
woke in Rowan’s big bed all alone, though I wasn’t alone in the room. He stood in front of his open closet, selecting a sweater. He had already donned a pair of dark slacks. Exhaustion had taken me before he returned to bed last night. I hoped he had gotten some sleep.

“Good morning,” I said.

He faced me with a smile. “Well look who finally woke up.”

I stuck out my tongue. “You look nice.”

“I’m half dressed.”

“I know.”

His grin broadened, but he pulled on the sweater.

I climbed out of bed and tugged his button-down shirt into a respectable position before walking over to join him. “How are you?”

“Healed, though it’ll probably leave a scar.”

“Girls love scars. It makes you look more badass.”

He snorted, but sobered quickly. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“I told you, it’s fine. You’re the one who got short-changed.”

He gave me a small smile, but didn’t look entirely convinced.

“Hey, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” He walked to the chest of drawers to get a pair of socks.

I frowned at his back. Men and their egos. How could I prove to him that as long as he was well, I was happy?

A knock at his door prevented me from coming up with an answer.

“Hey, Rowan?” It was James. “Do you want me to take Donovan with me to the airport, or do you want to go?”

Rowan walked toward the door. “I’m going to let him in,” he said to me. “You good?”

I gave his shirt another tug. “Good enough. I would be better if someone hadn’t ashed my underwear.”

Rowan grinned, then opened the door.

“For the record,” James said before either of us could speak, “I don’t eavesdrop on purpose, but I can hear a mouse fart at one hundred paces.”

“And do the mice know about this little perversion of yours?” I asked, pretending that my cheeks weren’t glowing.

James gave me a smirk, then turned to Rowan. “So, you’re going?”

“I’m going.”

James nodded, then pulled his phone from his pocket. “Just a minute,” he said to us, then answered the phone.

“He must have the ringer set on mouse fart,” I said.

Rowan chuckled, then walked over to sit on the bed to pull on his socks.

“Yes, she’s right here,” James said. He offered me the phone. “Elysia.”

I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You got a call from Brenda at the library. She said she hit the jackpot on your research project.”

“I guess knowing Ian’s last name must have helped.”

“Yeah. So, you want me to drive you over when you get back?”

I smiled. I suspected she was as interested in what Brenda had found as I was. “That would be great.” I turned to James. “Do you have time to drop me at my place before you head to the airport?”

“Sure. You’re not wearing that?”

“Behave or I’m going to tell Elysia about your fascination with mouse flatulence.” The phone was still pressed to my ear.

“I’m not even going to ask,” Elysia said.

Elysia cleared her throat, then rubbed her nose trying to hide the smile.

“Are you about done?” I waited for her to lock her car and join me on the sidewalk.

“I’m sorry.” She tucked her keys in her pocket and turned to face me. Her brown eyes sparkled with restrained laughter.

“I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve got to admit it’s funny.”

“It was a brand new pair of underwear.”

She snorted. “Does this happen often?”

“He once vaporized the stitching in my shirtsleeves.”

“That must be an interesting relationship.” She turned to face the building. “Whoa. All of this is the library?”

“Cool, huh?”

“I’ll say.” She fell in beside me as I started up the walk.

Situated downtown, the Cincinnati Public Library was a massive structure spanning two city blocks. Heck, the walkway between the two buildings was four stories tall. Like Elysia, I had been just as awed the first time I came here. I pushed open the front door and led her inside.

“I could get lost in here for days,” she said as we made our way to the genealogy department on the third floor.

“I lost half a day the first time we came here. Rowan had to come looking for me.”

Elysia snorted. “That seems to be a theme.”

“I don’t get in trouble
that
often.”

“If you say so. What about last night? James told me about your adventure at Xander’s.”

“What? Rowan didn’t have to come looking for me. He came
with
me.”

“So, you’re a bad influence.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

We left the elevator and crossed the third floor to the genealogy department. I looked around for Brenda. She wasn’t at her usual place behind the desk.

“Dear God,” Elysia whispered.

I glanced over. Was she into genealogy or had something else drawn her attention?

“This place needs an exorcism. There are close to a dozen spirits in here.”

The hairs on my forearms rose. “Why? This is a new building.”

“It could be the location. The items stored here. Or…” Elysia turned her head and I followed her gaze.

Brenda stepped out from among the shelves, her arms loaded with a pair of large books.

“It’s her,” Elysia said.

“What?”

“The ghosts are here because of her. I would guess that she’s a medium.”

“But Rowan suggested her.”

Elysia shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Brenda deposited the books on an already cluttered table, and I led Elysia over to her. The older woman opened one of the books and fondly ran her fingers across the handwritten pages while mumbling to herself. I had noticed her doing that before, but now I suspected she wasn’t just talking to herself.

“Hey, Brenda,” I said.

She looked up, her expression one of surprise. It seemed she had been too engrossed in her work—or her conversation—to notice us.

“Addie, how are—” She turned to face me, but fell silent when she saw Elysia. She tipped her head to the side. Was it my imagination, or was she listening to something I couldn’t hear?

“Yes, I’m a necromancer,” Elysia said into the silence.

Brenda’s eyes widened.

“Nice collection you have here,” Elysia added.

“Oh, yes,” Brenda gave her a tentative smile. “We have one of the largest and oldest genealogy collections in the country.”

“I meant your friends.”

“My…what?” Brenda looked genuinely puzzled.

“The ghosts. I assume you’re a medium?”

“No.” Brenda looked at me. “His Grace didn’t mention my talent?”

“Not in any detail,” I admitted. “He only suggested I ask you for help.”

“Oh.”

“So, what can you do?”

“I can take an original document and summon a voice from the past.”

“You’re New Magic?”

“No,” Elysia answered for her. “The document is her link when she summons the spirit from beyond.”

“Spirit, no,” Brenda said. “Just the voice.”

“There are close to a dozen spirits in this room right now.”

Brenda’s eyes widened. “You see them? What do they say to you?”

“I would have to let them in, let them possess me to hear. I don’t do that. I would recommend you stop.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m New Magic. I didn’t possess this talent before magic returned, and I worked among historic records for decades prior to that.”

“Maybe that’s when you noticed your talent. The acceptance of magic in the world opened a lot of eyes.”

“I only hear the voices if I physically touch the written word. Also, I feel the call of the Elements. That’s why I moved here from my lifetime home in Davenport, Iowa.”

“Seriously?” Elysia asked, her tone doubtful.

“What do you mean by
call of the Elements
?” I asked.

“I thought you were magical.” Brenda turned to Elysia. “Is she Old Magic?”

“She’s no magic.”

“But…” Brenda’s eyes returned to me. “You’re the Flame Lord’s alchemist.”

“No.” I made an effort not to fist my hands in frustration. “I don’t work for him. I’m not even magical. I’m a master alchemist, and I got here entirely on my own knowledge and skill.”

“I think you hit a nerve.” Elysia’s eyes glinted in amusement.

“I’m sorry,” Brenda said.

I took a breath and released it. “No, it’s me who should apologize. I just get so annoyed that everyone calls me that, as if I wouldn’t be where I am without his blessing.”

Elysia cleared her throat. “Maybe they mean
his
as in
his girlfriend
.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I saw the newspaper. Are you really?” Brenda asked.

Elysia cleared her throat, then lifted a brow when I glanced over.

“Don’t you have some dead things to go play with?” I asked her.

She grinned. “Not at the moment.”

“Since you’re staying with me, I should probably mention that I have a potion I named Atomic Diarrhea.”

Brenda snorted.

“You’re not a nice person, are you?” Elysia asked me, the twinkle in her eyes reminding me of Ian.

“Not even remotely.” I gave her a grin of my own.

“And they say necromancers are scary.”

I laughed and turned back to Brenda. “So what’s this
call of the Elements
you mentioned?”

“It’s this feeling of…discontent when I’m far from them for very long. It’s supposed to be a common phenomenon, but I understand that the stronger your magic, the stronger the pull.”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why there are so many magical people in the Cincinnati area?” Elysia asked me. “Apparently, it’s that way the world over.”

“I knew the percentages were higher here, but I didn’t know why—or that it was a worldwide phenomenon.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.”

“Don’t you feel it?”

“I’m Old Magic. We were here first.” She flashed me another grin.

“Speaking of Old Magic…” I faced Brenda. “You said you had some information on my research project?”

Brenda dug around on her table until she found a large manila folder bulging with papers. She handed it to me. “That’s every descendant’s birth and death certificate three generations from the man you asked me to research.”

“Wow, Brenda, that’s amazing. And you did all this so quickly.”

“It’s not difficult when you have all the information at your fingertips.” She gestured at the room around her.

“Was there a pun in there?” I smiled. After all, she had the ability to raise spirits from the past just by touching the written word.

“A small one. The truth is, the records you requested were very complete.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Yes, but I came across some genealogy reports that were compiled within the last decade.”

“Really?” I glanced at Elysia. “Is someone in the family into genealogy?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”

I opened the folder and pulled out the papers. They were organized in neat stacks, paper clipped together.

“I grouped them by family. Each of his children, their spouses, and offspring.” She spread the five paper-clipped bundles on the table. I immediately noticed that the last three contained only two pages apiece. I pulled those to me.

“Now you see the real reason it didn’t take me long. The three youngest boys died in a house fire, the same fire that killed their father.”

“What?”

She passed me a single piece of paper. It was Ian’s death certificate. He had died on June 21, 1825. Oddly, the surname was Nelson. Perhaps because his name had never been legally changed? My eye caught on the coroner’s signature. The elaborate scroll put me in mind of Ian’s fine penmanship, but the name stood my hair on end. Alexander Nelson. I pointed out the name to Elysia.

“I don’t guess I’m surprised,” she said.

I began sifting through the certificates of the three youngest. Brenda was right. They’d all died on the same date as Ian, all their deaths attributed to the house fire.

“This is awful,” I whispered. Had Alexander burned down the house once Ian was removed? How was I going to tell Ian?

I laid aside those three small packets and moved to the next, much thicker one. Joseph Mallory Nelson. His dates matched those on his tombstone. Unlike his father, his death certificate and those of his seven children all bore the Mallory name.

I moved on to the final packet, this one not quite as large as Joseph’s. The top page was a birth certificate for Matilda Grace Nelson. I pulled off the paper clip and moved to the next page. It was her death certificate. If it was to be believed, she had died at the age of twenty-one from consumption.

“This is where it got a bit…odd,” Brenda said. “Her last name is listed as Mallory on her marriage license, but she marries a man with the surname of Nelson. Even odder that the man has the same name as her uncle. That made it hard to—”

“What?” I checked the name on the marriage license, and her children’s birth certificates. All the forms listed Deacon Alexander Nelson. Had they included his title on the documents?

“Her husband was not a local man, or he really was her uncle.”

“As in, her father’s brother?”

“Yes. I pulled his birth certificate when I noticed that the man you were researching had a twin brother. I thought you might be interested.” She dug through the papers a moment, then handed me one.

Deacon Alexander Nelson. Huh, not a title. Deacon was his first name. I found Ian’s birth certificate and compared the two. Same parents, same address, and the same birth date.

“Oh my God, Alexander was Ian’s brother?” I pushed the pages over to Elysia just in case I was overlooking something.

“Jesus,” Elysia whispered. “I now see why Ian wasn’t pleased with her choice of husband.”

“I told you, she didn’t choose. Alexander took her.” I turned back to Brenda. “Do you have any other information on Alexander? Where he was buried, perhaps?” I didn’t think it would be that easy, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“I could check. Do you have time?”

I glanced at Elysia and she shrugged.

“That would be great, if you don’t mind,” I told Brenda.

She got to her feet and disappeared into the shelves across from us.

Elysia leaned back in her seat. “No wonder my line is so screwed up.”

“That was nine generations ago,” I reassured her. “Besides, concentrating genes isn’t always a bad thing.”