The Necromancer's Betrayal (The Final Formula Series, Book 2.5) (12 page)

Elysia laid her head on his shoulder, trying to take his advice. She could do this. She was twenty-six not six.

“Damn,” James whispered, and light suddenly flooded their drawer.

“Clever,” Neil said.

Elysia tipped her head up to see him bending to peer into their drawer.

“You sent a lich to distract me?”

“You better not have hurt her.”

“Compassion for the dead is the first step toward insanity.” He smiled as he glanced between them. “Crawling into a drawer with one is several flights up.”

“Watch it,” James said.

Neil chuckled, his white eyes returning to Elysia’s own. “Poor Doug has no idea what you’re capable of, does he?”

She held his gaze, refusing to answer.

“I didn’t think so.” Neil straightened. “You two behave. I need to run over to the PIA offices and chat with a former colleague. He owes me a favor.” He slammed the cooler door in her face, and they were plunged into complete darkness.

James’s arms tightened around her. “Shh,” he breathed, his mouth close to her ear.

She climbed over him to push against the door. It didn’t move. “Oh God.”

“It’s all right. He’ll be back.”

She pushed against the door harder. Nothing. It wouldn’t open. Suddenly she was a child, and the body beneath her wasn’t warm. She slammed a fist against the door.

James’s warm hands slid up her arms, pulling her back.

“No!” she cried out, trying to pull away. Her back thumped against the ceiling, emphasizing the smallness of the space. How trapped she was.

“Elysia.”

She gasped with the sensation of being pulled to him. “You’re not alone.” He pressed her palms to his chest. “I’m with you, Elysia Grace.” The bond tightened, going deeper.

She groaned and squeezed her eyes closed, though it made no difference in the darkness. The terror receded, but didn’t vanish.

“Tell me you know me. Say my name.”

She swallowed, trying to moisten her dry throat.

“My middle name is Daniel.” He rubbed her back. “Come on, know me. Make me yours.”

“James Daniel,” she whispered.

He groaned at the same instant relief washed over her. It felt like she had bled off some of her magic. But how?

She opened her eyes, but couldn’t see him. She couldn’t see anything. Time rolled back twenty years, and icy fingers trailed along her thin bare arms. Dead fingers.

“All of it.” His commanding tone jerked her back into the moment. “Huntsman. My last name is Huntsman.”

Appropriate. She took a shaky breath, the air scented with the musk of his cologne, warmed by his skin. “James Daniel Huntsman.”

He cried out, his back coming off the drawer and lifting her until her own back thumped against the top of the chamber.

She gripped his shoulders to maintain her balance. Warm shoulders, yet the tight confines shot adrenaline into her veins. She reached for the door.

James caught her wrists. “No. Connect with me.” He gently returned her hands to his chest. “Share your soul.”

It took a few tries to catch her breath and speak. “Neil took that ability from me.”

A faint growl rumbled beneath her. “No. I feel you, within me. And you feel me, Elysia Grace.”

Hades’s blood, she loved the way he said her name. But she also heard his question. He wanted all of it, just as he had given all of his.

“Mallory,” she whispered. “My sire name is Mallory.”

He stilled beneath her. “Of course.” He took a breath and she braced herself. “Elysia Grace Mallory.”

She cried out as his voice pulled her the rest of the way in, and they were one. He groaned and the sound vibrated through her entire body. Unerringly, she found his lips in the darkness.

He was waiting for her, his mouth claiming hers. He squeezed her shoulders, then slid his hands down her back. Still shaking, she clung to him, certain the darkness would reclaim her if she let go.

She pressed her body closer to his, or tried to in the tight space. His hands moved down to grip her hips, and he lifted his own to meet her. She realized that eating and sleeping weren’t the only functions his body still performed. Then her back thumped the top of the chamber. Again.

“Sorry. Damn.” Frustration laced James’s voice, making the word more a growl than an effort at communication.

The absurdity of the situation struck Elysia at that moment. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, trying to muffle the laugh, but failed. Maybe it was a touch of hysteria, but the more she thought about it, the funnier it got.

She expected anger from James, or at least annoyance, but he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her against him. His own laugher joined hers, and before long, there were tears on both their faces.

“Better?” he asked when they finally got control of themselves.

“Yes.” She rubbed a hand across her damp cheeks. “Thanks for bringing me back.”

“I didn’t mind.”

She smiled. They lay in silence for several minutes, letting their breathing return to normal.

“I had a bad experience in one of these,” she admitted.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“Not really.”

“I understand.” He raised his hands, and she guessed he pressed his palms to the ceiling. “If my brothers have their way, an iron box is to be my destiny, though I hope it’s bigger than this one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The generation that contains the grim gets a power boost aside from the usual hunting enhancements the blood gives them. To preserve that, my brothers would like to keep me in an iron vault to protect me from harm, and preserve their power.”

“They sound like lovely people.”

“Yes, but they are family—the only family I have.” Something in his tone made it sound like there was more to it, but he didn’t elaborate.

She made a sound of understanding. “My mother went mad by the time I was six. She once mistook me for one of the dead and locked me in the cooler drawer. It was occupied.”

His arms tightened around her. “I’m sorry. That had to be terrifying.”

“Yes.”

“It was brave of you to climb in here.”

“I thought I could handle it.”

“You are.”

“Only because you pulled me back.”

“No problem. You’re not so bad for a necromancer.”

She smiled. “And you’re pretty nice for a dead guy.”

“Thanks.” He rubbed a hand over her back. She suspected he meant the gesture to be soothing, but all it did was give her chills.

She cleared her throat. “That collar limits your strength, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I can’t bust us out.”

“And I can’t remove the collar.” She reached out, still aware of his body beneath hers, and felt around the door. “No exposed hinges.”

“Neil will let us out eventually, but what he plans beyond that, I don’t know.”

“You speak like you know him.”

“He’s one of the necros who had me before.”

“Damn.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. “And I gave you back to him.”

“Don’t blame yourself. I let Doug bring us here.”

“Like you had any say. I would have overridden you.”

He sighed, but didn’t comment, his fingers playing with her hair.

“What did Neil mean about visiting the PIA?” she asked. Was it some kind of follow up on Kari?

“I’m not sure, but he used to work there.”

Elysia didn’t know what to make of that. At the time, it had seemed Neil had been taunting her, or James.

“How bad is it?” James asked.

It took her a moment to realize that he spoke of her magic. “It hurts, but…”

“What?” He continued to play with her hair, brushing it back from her face.

“The worst are the whispers.”

“The whispers?”

She braced herself to continue, determined to admit to him what she hadn’t been able to tell Doug. “I’m hearing voices.”

“Do you hear them now?” His tone was serious.

She stopped to listen and heard… nothing. “They’re gone.”

“Of course.” A smile entered his voice. “The dead usually flee from a grim.”

She stilled. “Ghosts. You think they’re ghosts.”

“I heard them when you first found me.”

“It’s not in my head,” she whispered.

“No.” He ran a hand over her hair again.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his jaw, unable to stop the tears. She wasn’t going mad.

“The bastard has blocked your ability to bleed off the life within you. It’s bottled up, becoming a damned siren’s call to the dead.”

She lifted her head. “How do you know? Isn’t your power locked down, too?”

“It is, but my sensitivity remains. Trust me, I’ll go mad long before you do if we remain trapped in this drawer.”

She smiled then tipped her head up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

His breath shook as he exhaled. “I’m actually serious.”

She snorted. “Sabotaging yourself again?”

“As you can attest, the space is a bit limiting. Maybe if you weren’t wearing pants…”

“Have you been thinking about this?”

“From the moment you climbed in here. Though with my luck, Neil would show up just as things got interesting.”

She laughed, grateful the darkness hid her blush. “He’s a necromancer. I doubt it would shock him.”

“True.” James fell silent.

“Yes?”

“I’ve noticed that you’re a necromancer.”

She wondered if he could feel her heart pounding against his ribs. “No, I’ve never had sex in a mortuary drawer. I have a phobia about them, remember?”

“Oh right.”

“But I’m not opposed to the idea.”

“Twisted necromancer.”

“Yes.” She returned her cheek to his chest.

He cleared his throat. “So, in a mortuary drawer. With… a dead man.”

“With you.”

He fell silent, and she began to second-guess the banter. There was supposed to be a grain of truth in every joke. Perhaps he did think her twisted.

“Do you think our magical compatibility got the better of us again?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

She sighed. “Sorry.”

“I don’t think you’re at fault.”

“Perhaps not the only one.”

“Perhaps.”

Chapter
13

J
ames came awake with a gasp. He called the hound, ready to rip the threat to shreds—and hit an iron wall. He lay panting in the dark, attempting to adjust to his deadened senses. What had awakened him?

He cursed under his breath. He hadn’t meant to go to sleep. When Neil returned, he wanted to be ready.

Elysia was oblivious to his anxiety. Her cheek rested on his shoulder, her warm breath slow and even against the side of his neck. She was quiet now, but she had been restless on and off all night. He didn’t know what demons plagued her. In their short acquaintance, he had come realize that her life hadn’t been easy. Then too, she might not be dreaming of her past. She might be dreaming of Doug’s betrayal, or the loss of her magic. Both things James felt he should have been able to prevent.

If he got this collar off, he vowed to take both necromancers from this world—especially Neil. That man needed a slow trip to hell.

Elysia muttered something, shifting against him. He ran a hand over her hair until she settled down. She slid her hand across his stomach until her arm encircled his waist, and her breathing grew slow and steady again.

It was amazing he had slept at all with her pressed so close. Her power hummed beneath her too warm skin, and he squirmed against the tray they lay on. She was right, of course. Their magical compatibility had gotten the better of them once more. There could be no other explanation. They barely knew each other. Hell, he had only just learned her last name.

Elysia Grace Mallory. Another point he had missed. She had said the founder of her line had been an alchemist. Ian Mallory, of course. Though if it was her female line that was cursed, he didn’t know why she still bore Ian’s last name. James decided that he hadn’t been such a bonehead for missing it after all.

Footfalls sounded outside his drawer. Damn it, he had let himself get distracted. “Elysia!” he whispered, squeezing her with the arm he had wrapped behind her back. “Wake up.”

She gasped, lifting her head from his shoulder. “What is it?”

“He’s coming. When he pulls out the drawer, roll off your side—and hold your breath.”

“Hold my—”

“He might gas us.”

“Got it.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze, shifting around until she lay on her side facing away from him.

The door snapped open and light poured into the drawer, blinding him. James sucked in a breath and held it, then heard Elysia do the same.

“Good morning,” Neil said, then threw out a hand. A fine green powder exploded in their faces. James suspected it was Addie’s Perfect Assistant Dust. The powder would give Neil the ability to command them, and they would have no choice but to obey.

James gripped the edge of the opening and pulled them out into the open air so fast that Neil had to stumble back to avoid being hit. Still holding his breath, James rolled off his side and dropped to the ground. Tucking his legs beneath him, he landed in a crouch.

A thump sounded on the far side of the drawer. Elysia grunted in pain, then immediately began to cough. Neil had shoved her against the drawers, and the green powder still hung in the air around them.

James sprang to his feet, leaping over the drawer, his hands outstretched as he reached for Neil. He might not be able to rip out his soul, but he was more than capable of killing him with only his hands. Besides, James had promised him a slow trip to hell.

Neil threw up a hand, stumbling backward while the other hand reached for a vial along his ribs. “Stop him!” Neil shouted.

James’s hands closed around his throat.

“James, stop!” Elysia shouted. Her power slammed into him.

He doubled over with the force of it, releasing Neil. What happened? Could she use her power again?

Elysia covered her mouth with one hand, clearly shocked. Yes, the green powder had been Perfect Assistant Dust. Elysia would now obey any command Neil gave her.

Oddly, Neil looked just as stunned. He stared at Elysia with wide, white eyes. “You can still control him? How is that possible? Doug said you can’t even sense death.”

“I’m not stunted,” she said with heat. “I just got fucked over by an alchemist. Again.”

James frowned at Neil, then he understood. “You designed the potion you gave her around your own blood.” It wasn’t a form of necro Extinguishing Dust. Neil had really attempted to stunt her.

Neil ignored him, his attention still on Elysia. “You can’t sense your magic, but you can still use it?”

Elysia clenched her fists. “I’m as surprised as you are.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or not. You did tell me to stop him. And what was in that powder you threw at me?”

“I thought you would throw yourself in his path.” Neil waved off the rest of it. “A mystery for another day.” He tugged on his robes to straighten them before addressing Elysia once more. “You are not to give him a command unless I tell you to, and he is not allowed to move unless you command it.”

Elysia’s eyes widened as she absorbed the command. “James, don’t move unless I command it,” she whispered. The crease in her brow made it clear that she didn’t understand what was happening.