The Blood Alchemist (The Final Formula Series, Book 2) (15 page)

I played with the seam of my jeans to avoid looking at him. “I don’t know how to make it right.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. They’ll come around.”

I frowned out my window, looking back at the shop. What happened when they found out about Ian? Over the past few days, I felt I’d been making progress with Rowan and James. If I confessed to lying, to working with a necromancer—

Donovan gripped my knee and I jumped.

“Just be yourself, Addie,” he said.

“Who I am is the problem.”

“Is it?” Donovan started the engine, then pulled away from the curb. “The problem is who you fear you were. It’s not the same thing.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

We arrived at the Elemental Offices about ten minutes later. This late on a Friday afternoon, I expected the place to be deserted. I didn’t expect the news van or the crew on the front lawn.

Donovan parked at the curb, and I unhooked my seatbelt, scooting forward on the seat to better see the scene. James stood on the front steps, arms crossed and frowning. The reporter moved closer to the stairs, and I recognized her.

“Crap.” It was that bitch from the wreck site. I opened the door.

“Addie?” Donovan stopped me. “What are you going to do?”

“Run them off.”

“How?”

“I haven’t decided.” I stepped out of the vehicle and looked back. “You coming?”

“I’d rather not have my face on TV, but I’ll be here if you need me.”

I considered arguing. No one would know who he was. Then, too, guys his size weren’t that common, and everyone knew the Earth Lord was a big man.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“And Addie?”

I’d started to shut the door, but hesitated.

“Your actions reflect on us. On him.”

Rowan. In other words, don’t piss him off even more.

“Got it.” I closed the door with a little more force than necessary. Great. Now Donovan was nagging me. I didn’t cause that much trouble.

Did I?

I walked across the front parking lot, moving toward the sidewalk that led to the front door. James’s eyes flicked in my direction, but the reporter had yet to see me.

“I can show you the footage,” she was saying to James. “He hasn’t left.”

“If you wish to speak to the Flame Lord, you’ll need to call the Offices during regular business hours and—”

“I saw him return around three. I want to speak with him now. I deserve that much. He issued a formal complaint.”

“He did?” I asked, flanking her to join James on the steps. “With whom?”

The reporter gasped, her shock turning to a frown as soon as she realized who I was.

“The station,” James answered me.

“Really?”

“What are you doing here, alchemist?” the reporter demanded. “Come to throw another potion at us?”

“If not, I’m sure a little clever editing can make it appear that way.” I turned back to James. “His Grace called. He wanted us to lock up and—”

“The footage was only edited to meet time constraints,” the reporter cut in. “Nothing was—”

“Save it for your audience; I’m not interested in your lies.”

“What were you saying?” James asked me. His eyes twinkled with amusement.

“His Grace wants us to lock up here and meet him,” I hesitated, glancing at the reporter, “you know where.”

“Of course.” James turned back toward the door. “I was out here and must have missed his call.”

“That’s what I figured.” I walked with him toward the door. “You really need to keep your cell phone in your pocket.”

“I got out of the habit after I washed the last one.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought a smile.

I was having the same problem. James always did a great job following my lead on these little fabrications. It had been a source of endless amusement when we lived with his brothers.

“What are you, his lackey?” the reporter called after us.

I turned and found her eyes on me. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not magical; His Grace will never let you in his club.” She smiled when she spoke, as if she’d figured me out.

I grinned right back, but before I could comment, the front door opened. I expected Rowan, but it turned out to be an older man in a cheap suit.

He stopped when he saw me. “Ms. Daulton.”

“Hello, Director Waylon.” I hadn’t seen him since one of his PIA agents brought me in for questioning last fall. They’d wanted to locate my Grand Master, believing he had found the Final Formula.

Gray robes filled my peripheral vision, and Cora stepped out on the porch with us. To my surprise, she stopped beside me.

“Compass,” she asked, voice pitched low.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Her hood hid her expression, but I still caught the nod. “Go inside.”

“Addie said His Grace called,” James spoke up. “He asked me to lock up.”

“Of course.” Cora turned to Waylon. “Let me give you a ride.”

“Thank you.” Waylon turned toward the stairs and hesitated.

Cora halted beside him. “Ms. Fields. I see you are still here.”

“It’s Megan.” She lifted her chin. “I want to see His Grace. He—”

“He’s not here. You’ve been told that.” She waved a hand toward James.

“Then I’ll speak to you. I—”

“Your conflict is not with the Elemental Offices. Your conflict is with him. I encouraged him to sue for slander, but he felt a reprimand with your employer enough.” Cora didn’t wait for a response. She started down the stairs, Director Waylon at her side. No one spoke as they climbed into the Elements’ silver limo and drove away.

The reporter glared at me and then addressed her cameraman. “Let’s go.” She turned and marched back toward the van, taking her crew with her.

James opened the door and held it for me as I walked inside.

“Nice job,” he said after closing the door behind us.

“I think Cora deserves most of the credit.” I fell in beside him as we started toward the library.

“What happened?” Rowan asked, stepping out of a doorway to our right.

I jumped and spun to face him. “Most people say boo when they do that.”

Rowan’s brows rose, but he didn’t comment. “Did you run them off?” he asked James.

“No. Addie did.”

Rowan frowned. “Explain.”

James recounted the events on the front steps. I tried to keep him honest when he gave me too much credit.

Rowan didn’t seem overly impressed. “Cora and Waylon left without problem?”

“Yes,” James answered.

“Good. If a camera crew followed them to Xander’s, I’d hear about it. It’ll be bad enough to listen to him whine about my absence.”

“Your absence?” I asked.

“Tonight is the memorial for Xander’s grandson. Cora went in my stead.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t think that reporter would have followed her even if I hadn’t shown up.” I smiled, remembering the way Cora had handled her.

“I want you to stay away from that reporter,” Rowan said.

I crossed my arms. “She lied. She made you look weak and me crazy. I’m not going to let her get away with it.” I’d pushed the news story from my mind, but seeing the woman again brought it all home.

Rowan studied me with cool gray eyes. “I’ve already withdrawn my sponsorship of the station. I do have some clout in this city. The station owner was not pleased.”

“It’s great that you’re exercising your arrogance, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to help me redeem alchemy.”

“Redeem alchemy or you?”

“I don’t see the distinction.” I turned back toward the lobby. “Donovan is waiting across the street.”

“She’s still out there.” James had turned toward the front of the building, his eyes on full glow. “Or someone was. They moved out of range as I watched.”

Crap. “Can you take us elsewhere? Then Donovan could meet us there.” I didn’t relish another visit with Gavin, but I’d take one for the team.

“No.” Rowan’s answer was abrupt.

I remembered Rowan refusing to go through the portal after our swim in the river. “Why not? You stepped in that night at the clinic.” Rowan hadn’t even hesitated to follow me into James’s hell dimension.

“But I held the portal open and we didn’t travel,” James said. “It’s where the dead go. The living don’t fare so well.”

“I’m not dead,” I pointed out.

“No, you’re not.”

I remembered what Ian had told me and how he could travel that realm even before he died. I also remembered Gavin’s comments about the brightness of my soul, comparing me to a necromancer.

“I’m not magical,” I said. “And anything the Formula did was…Elemental.”

I didn’t like to remind them of that, but they were both watching me closely.

“The other grim implied necromancy,” Rowan looked at James as he spoke.

It felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I stared at James. “You told him what Gavin said?”

“He asked why traveling that way hadn’t affected you the way it did him.” James met my eyes, and it was clear that he still had his doubts about me, too.

“I’m pretty sure it was you who told me Gavin is nuts.”

“Be that as it may,” Rowan spoke up, “you still traveled through the land of the dead without consequences.”

No, there were consequences. I was staring at them at this moment. “I’m not a necromancer. I’d think James would know if I were.”

Rowan actually looked at James for conformation. I wanted to kick him.

“She’s not a necromancer,” James said.

I released a breath, but didn’t get to speak as he continued.

“But the brightness of her soul rivals any I’ve met.”

“What does that mean?” I demanded.

James shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I rubbed a hand over my face. “That’s not very helpful.” I glanced between the two men, forcing my mind back to the problem at hand. “Give Rowan your clothes,” I said to James.

“Why?”

“You two have similar builds. If he pulls up the hood on your jacket, the reporter will think it’s you. Rowan and I can walk out to the Suburban and you can use the hellhound express to meet us elsewhere.”

“That’s not necessary,” Rowan cut in. “I’m sure she’s gone.”

“Are you? What if she left the camera guy across the street and he’s hiding in the shrubbery with the lens focused on the front door?”

“Perhaps we should use the back door.”

“Would you stop being so difficult? I’m not asking you to wear his underwear.”

James snorted and Rowan turned his frown on him.

“What?” James asked. “I thought it was a good idea. Um, not the underwear part,” he hurried to add. “The rest of it.”

“I think it’s the jeans.” I gestured at the faded pair James was wearing. “His Grace doesn’t do jeans.”

Rowan gave me a frown and I arched a brow.

“Fine.” Rowan turned back to James. “Let’s do this.” He opened the door across the hall and stepped into the darkened room.

James glanced at me, amusement glinting in his green eyes, then followed Rowan inside.

I smiled, pleased that I seemed to be making progress with James. I really missed his friendship.

A few minutes later, the guys met me in the lobby. Rowan pulled up the zipper of the hoodie, partially covering his black Avenged Sevenfold T-shirt. Well, James’s T-shirt.

James, the hellhound, sat down between us, watching me watch Rowan.

“What?” Rowan asked.

“I didn’t say anything.” Damn, he looked good in jeans.

Rowan gave me a frown and turned toward the door. James snorted, and I ripped my eyes from Rowan’s ass. I really shouldn’t be looking.

“See you on the other side, Fido.” I ruffled the fur on his head.

James nudged me with his shoulder before vanishing into his hell dimension.

I hurried after Rowan. He stopped before reaching the door and pulled up his hood.

“Ready?” I asked.

In answer, he opened the door. I followed him outside and waited while he locked up. A snarl from the street made me look up.

“What’s he doing?” Rowan pitched his voice low as we walked down the porch steps.

“Creating a diversion?”

Raised voices sounded from across the lawn. A moment later, car doors slammed then tires squealed. A dark sedan shot out of a side street and sped away.

A bump against my hip, and I looked down at the big black dog walking beside me.

“Nice one, Fido.” I rubbed his ear.

“Why did I have to change again?” Rowan asked.

“So they’d see me and James lock up and walk away from the building. There’s also the added benefit that the hellhound won’t be linked to him.”

“The hellhound will be linked to you.”

“Works for me. If Miss Megan reports that I have a hellhound at my beck and call, maybe I won’t have to rebuild my lab so often.” I followed him across the lawn to the Suburban.

Donovan disappointed me; he didn’t say a word about Rowan’s attire when he climbed in the SUV.

I let James jump up on the back seat ahead of me, then pulled the door closed.

“I guess that explains a few things,” Donovan said after James got in.

“Just in case reporter bitch was still watching,” I clarified.

Donovan snorted. “Is that her title?”

“I strive for accurate descriptions.” I reached in my jacket pocket and pulled out the compass.

James leaned in a little closer, his hot breath fogging the glass. One furry shoulder pressed against mine.

Amused, I glanced over and realized that he wasn’t intentionally crowding me. He actually took up over half the seat.

“You are one big freaking dog, you know that?” I laughed as his tongue rolled out in a doggy grin. Of course, he almost licked my face in the process.

“James, there’s a duffle bag in the back. You can change when we stop.” Donovan pulled away from the curb. “Until then, mind the claws on the leather.”

The seats weren’t leather. The beige fabric sported a few stains and holes where I suspected a fishing lure had snagged or some of the camping gear had poked. The backend of the Suburban was full of assorted outdoor equipment.

“What does the compass say?” Rowan asked.

I leaned forward and handed it to him, then watched the needle point in the same direction it had pointed for me. Rowan still had faith in me. Well, faith in my alchemy. It was a start.