The Catalyst of Corruption (The Final Formula Series, Book 4) (27 page)

I smiled.

Chapter 23

F
ingers brushed my cheek, the
touch familiar, as was the faint scent of his cologne. But I knew time had passed. Gone was the damp earth basement smell, replaced by the scent of powerful disinfectants and commercially laundered sheets. A hospital.

I opened my eyes to a bright fluorescent light overhead. Bolts of pain shot through my skull, and I squeezed my eyes closed once more. Apparently, my headache was still with me.

“Addie?” Rowan's voice now accompanied the gentle brush of his fingers.

“You're alive,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

I smiled. It had worked. Once again, my blood had brought him back.

Unless this was a dream.

Fear dumped adrenaline into my veins, and my head pounded twice as hard, but I forced my eyes open. My eyes watered, blurring my vision, but I could see that Rowan did, indeed, sit on the side of my bed. Beyond him, I caught a glimpse of a blue curtain and a scrubs-clad man hurrying past the opening.

Unable to stand the pain, I squeezed my eyes closed once more. “Emergency room?” I asked.

“Yes. How are you?”

“I feel like my head is about to explode.”

Another brush of his fingers. “What have you done to yourself?”

“Doesn't matter,” I muttered, waiting for the effects of the adrenaline to fade so I could open my eyes and verify his presence once more. “As long as you're here.”

He brushed my hair from my forehead, then his warm lips touched the skin he had just exposed.

I reached up to touch his chest and felt the loose fabric of his shirt. I remembered Rowan wearing a close-fitting T-shirt beneath his jacket. Had someone given him something else to wear? Why?

“Rowan?” Cora's strict tone broke into my musings. “What are you doing down here? Let me guess, Donovan.”

“He needed to see that she's okay,” Donovan's deep voice answered. I hadn't even realized he was in the room.

“And she's not okay,” Rowan said, leaning away from me.

“It's just a headache,” I said.

“It's not just a headache,” Rowan said sounding angry. “She took the Fire within her. She's not designed to take that kind of damage.”

“But she survived, my brother,” Donovan said, his voice softening. “And so did you.”

“We can argue about this later,” Cora cut in. “They're waiting for you upstairs, Rowan. Addie is going to be fine. Right, Nelson?”

“All her vitals are within the normal range,” a new voice, said and I realized it was Doug. How many people were in here with me?

I braved the light and cracked open my eyes. Rowan still sat on my right, and not far from him, Donovan and Cora. Doug stood beside my bed on the left.

“Get him back in the chair,” Cora said.

“I can—” Rowan started to protest, but Donovan was at his side, helping him to his feet. That's when I realized that Rowan wasn't wearing a T-shirt, but a hospital gown.

“Watch his IV,” Cora said, moving quickly around Donovan to grab the IV stand and wheel it out of the way. Donovan turned Rowan and lowered him into a chair beside my bed. A wheelchair.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“Doug,” Rowan cut in before anyone could answer. “Take her back to the lab, to Ian. He can fix this.”

“Yes, of course,” Doug agreed.

“Rowan.” I rolled onto my side, flinching at the pain, and held out a hand.

He leaned forward to take it. “Get well, Addie.” A squeeze, and he slipped his hand from mine. Then Donovan was wheeling him from the room, Cora beside them, urging them to hurry.

“What's going on?” I demanded of Doug.

“They're prepping Rowan for some tests.”

“Tests?” I lifted my hand to rub the back of my neck and flinched at the pain in my wrist. A clean white bandage encircled my forearm. “Why?”

“Because he went into cardiac arrest. That's not something you just bounce back from.”

Doug moved into my line of sight. He was still shirtless beneath his jacket, and I caught a glimpse of a fresh white bandage around his shoulder. I wasn't the only one who had been patched up.

“He more or less died, Addie. Whatever you did brought him back.”

According to Rowan, I had taken the damage from him, somehow. Maybe I had brought him back, but the next time he used his magic could still be his last. I needed to get back to the lab.

“Can you take me home now?”

“I'll get the doctor,” Doug said.

“Why?”

“To sign your release.”

 

Almost an hour later, we
finally walked into the lab. Ian wasn't at his workbench, but I saw a note and a couple of vials on my bench. My head hurt too much to read. I had kept my eyes closed on the ride home from the hospital, unable to bear the headlights from oncoming cars. Even now, I could barely stand the glare of the overhead lights.

“It looks like Ian is out.” I walked over to my shelf of completed potions to retrieve a vial of my pain reliever. “He left a note on my workbench. What does it say?”

Doug picked up the note and read it aloud. “This is the counter to the shielding potion I developed for Neil. I went to pick up my order from my tailor.”

Ian and his tailor. I would have shaken my head if it didn't hurt so much. I pulled the cap of the vial of pain reliever and downed it. Warmth grew at the base of my skull, then radiated outward. I bowed my head, waiting for that rush of relief that would come with the absence of pain—but it never materialized.

“What the hell?” I frowned at the vial I held. It was the right one.

“Is something wrong?” Doug crossed to my side.

“It didn't work.”

“Maybe it was mixed wrong.”

“No.” My heart beat a little quicker as I thought about what Rowan had claimed. What if I really had taken his Fire damage into myself?

Footsteps echoed out of the hall, and a moment later, James and Elysia stepped into the room.

“It's about time you got here.” Elysia pulled me into a hug. I guess that answered whether she had been kept up to date on the events of the evening.

She pushed me back, then reached up and touched my bruised cheek. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks.” I turned back to my shelf and set the empty vial beside the others. “Nasty headache.”

“Your pain reliever didn't work?” James asked.

“No.” I reached up and selected another vial from my shelf. It was a potion I typically carried everywhere with me.

“What are you doing?” Doug asked.

“Experimenting.” I removed the cap.

“That's Rowan's remedy,” James said.

“Yes, it is.” I drank the potion. This time, the warmth centered in my chest before ballooning outward to encompass my entire body. I tipped my head back as aches and pains I hadn't even registered faded, along with the blinding headache.

I released a breath, then I straightened.

Doug was frowning at me. “Am I going to have to take you back to the hospital for some kind of alchemic overdose?”

I smiled. “No.”

Doug frowned. “Are you okay?”

“I'm better than okay. The damn headache is gone.”

“Addie, what's going on?” James asked.

“I tried to help Rowan and got some backlash this time.” I looked up, and he was watching me, his eyes oddly on full glow.

“What?”

“How did you help Rowan?” He studied me with that unsettling intensity he sometimes displayed.

“She soul bound him,” Doug said before I could answer.

Elysia made a sound that might have been a laugh. “I knew you could.”

“You gave me the idea. Though I'm not convinced that's what I actually did.” I turned to James. “Somehow, I took his damage.” I held up the empty vial that had contained Rowan's remedy.

James frowned, but didn't comment. Instead, he reached out to touch my bruised cheek, much as Elysia had. “Doug said you found my brothers. He said they were locked up on his father's property.”

“They told me that Alexander locked them up.” Well, they had told me that Ian locked them up, but clearly, they were mistaken.

“What would he want with them?” Elysia asked.

“No clue.” I looked up at James. “They escaped.”

James sighed.

“What happened to you?” Elysia asked Doug. “Or is this a new look?”

Doug spread his arms. “Too desperate?”

Elysia laughed. “Maybe a little.”

“I got chewed by a death hound,” Doug answered. “Era was gracious enough to help, but felt my already mangled shirt could be put to better use as a bandage.”

Elysia laughed. “I bet you put up a big fight over that.”

James looked up, a frown shadowing his eyes.

“Hey, it was all her idea,” Doug said. “And Rowan was enlisted to cut it into strips while I knelt on the ground. Bleeding.”

“The wounds did look pretty bad,” I said, coming to Doug's defense. “I had to look away.”

“You have to look away from paper cuts,” Elysia said, a smirk curling her lips. It was good to see her smiling and teasing, even if it was at my expense.

“Well, if you're just going to pick on me, I'm going to go shower.” Then I was going to buckle down and get serious about finding Rowan a cure.

“I'll head over to the hospital,” James said.

I had started to turn away, but stopped. “Will you call me? Let me know how he is?”

“Sure.” He was already walking toward the back door, his keys jingling as he pulled them from his pocket.

“I'll start supper,” Elysia said. Like James, she didn't wait around for a response before walking away.

Doug watched her go, a frown on his features.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Those two need to talk, or something.”

“Yeah.” I studied him, not sure what to make of his comment. Elysia had been engaged to him at one time, yet he seemed to support her relationship with James.

“Oh.” Doug stood straighter. “I just remembered. That box we went to all that trouble to fetch is in my car. Blake left it for you.”

“What became of him?”

“Era took him home.” Doug turned away. “Let me go grab the box.”

“Thanks, Doug.”

He gave me a little wave and headed back outside where he'd parked the car.

I shook my head, amazed again how well Doug fit in and what a decent guy he was proving to be.

A few minutes later, he returned, carrying the dented tin Blake had found.

“Do you want to look inside?” Metal clanked as Doug set it on my workbench.

“Absolutely.” I wanted to see what Rowan had almost died to obtain.

Doug gripped the edges of the lid and pried it up. A tug on each end, and he was able to open it. “Easier than I expected.”

“Thanks.” I leaned forward to peek inside. “I would have hated to break a nail.”

He chuckled.

The box was filled with papers. I picked up the first one. It was yellowed with age, but appeared to be a receipt for a new frock. It was dated 1832.

“Historic.” I set the page aside. “But I don't see the significance.” I picked up the next slip. This one was a grocer's receipt for some dry goods and apples.

“Mediums are known for getting things wrong.”

I looked up.

“I'm not slamming Blake,” Doug hurried to add. “But I understand that a lot of their ghostly guidance comes in the form of visions and feelings. It's up to the medium to interpret them, and Blake is just a sixteen-year-old kid.”

He had a point. I picked through a few more receipts and sighed. “So the whole thing was a wasted trip?”

“I learned something new about my childhood home. I think that tunnel runs to my father's house.”

I looked up from the farrier's receipt I was perusing. “You're sure?”

“No, but I walked a few yards beyond the door where James's brothers were being held. I sensed death. I think it was the crypt beneath Father's house.”

“It could have been that cemetery.”

“The bodies in the cemetery are really old and very decayed from the elements. These weren't as old and were better preserved.”

I grunted.

“I want to go back and check it out sometime.”

“Don't go alone.”

“Are you concerned about my safety?” He smiled, but he watched me closely, as if truly interested in my response. It occurred to me that he may not have had a lot of caring in his life. His mother died when he was young, and his father had tried to Make him. There was also his failed relationship with Elysia.

“I've always been concerned about your safety,” I said. “Why do you think I asked you to stay here?”

“To keep an eye on the opposition?”

“Um, no.” I began putting the receipts back in the box. “We care about you, Doug.” I set the lid atop the box. “I'm going to take these upstairs and dig through them. I'm not ready to accept that Rowan almost died for a box of old receipts.”

“Okay.”

I picked up the tin and headed for the stairs.

“Addie?”

I stopped and looked back.

Doug stood where I had left him. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” I smiled. “I think I'll put aside the alchemy and just run a home for displaced necromancers.”

He returned the smile. “You're going to need to get some corpses.”

“I'm working on that.” I winked.

 

By the time I got
out of the shower, the apartment smelled divine. I didn't know what Elysia was baking, but it smelled great whatever it was. I pulled on my robe and poked my head into the living room. Elysia stood at the kitchen counter shredding some lettuce.

“Need some help?” I asked.

“No. I'm just making a salad. The chicken is in the oven.”

“You rock, you know that?”