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

By Becca Andre

Addie Daulton wants nothing to do with her dark past as an Alchemica alchemist. Content with her new life surrounded by the people she cares about, she has chosen to live with amnesia rather than face the person she was. She focuses on alchemy’s healing properties, helping others and hoping to find a way to save Rowan before his magic consumes him.

But Addie isn’t the only one with a dark history. Her lab partner, Ian Mallory has just had his past resurrected in the form of his brother. Alexander is a powerful necromancer who has been secretly leading the necromancer community for centuries. He’s not the type to share his power, and certainly not with the Flame Lord.

Addie must watch helplessly as Rowan struggles to maintain control of both his volatile magic and his influence in magical politics. Meanwhile, flashbacks tease her, suggesting that the solution to all their problems lies in her past. Unwilling to reclaim her memories, Addie must find another way to learn what she was studying at the Alchemica. Unfortunately, the only person who knows is her former colleague, Neil Dunstan. The question now becomes: how far is she willing to go to save the man she loves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Becca Andre
• Release date: Feb 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311726490

Becca Andre

Becca Andre lives in southern Ohio with her husband, two children, and an elderly Jack Russell Terrier. A love of science and math (yes, she’s weird like that), led to a career as a chemist where she blows things up far more infrequently than you’d expect. Other interests include: chocolate, hard rock, and slaying things on the Xbox. She also finds writing about herself in third person a bit strange.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Alchemy is a diverse discipline that offers endless possibilities. The alchemist is not restricted to a particular magic born to her. She can create potions to achieve anything, limited only by her imagination—and morality.

At least, that was what I had always believed. I was a master alchemist, but some problems still stumped me. For example, I had yet to design a potion that could heal a broken heart. And at the moment, I wished I had.

Ian’s face gave away nothing as he studied the name carved on the lid of the sarcophagus. I had come to know the man well over the last few months, and I knew his silences were the equivalent of more violent outbursts from other men. Even so, I had expected some reaction.

I pressed closer to Rowan’s side, unnerved by the silence in these subterranean catacombs, and ran my flashlight beam over the name carved on the lid. Matilda Grace Nelson. Ian’s daughter. We had finally found her grave. Well, Elysia and James had technically found her grave—and they had gone through hell to do it.

I glanced over at where the pair stood watching Ian. They had been held captive in these catacombs by Ian’s twin brother, Alexander. Elysia had placed herself under Alexander’s power in hope of finding his secret location, ultimately ending him with James’s help. But that hadn’t been their only goal. They had also hoped to learn of Matilda’s location. And they had. Sort of.

The sarcophagus is empty, Ian said.

Rowan left my side and walked to the sarcophagus, his footsteps echoing off the bare walls. He lifted his battery-powered lantern, illuminating the interior of the stone box. What does this mean?

It can mean a lot of things, Ian said.

Rowan frowned, but didn’t question him further. Instead, he turned to James. Is anyone else here?

James’s green eyes began to glow, and he spun in a slow circle as he searched for souls around us. Down below.

There are more tunnels beneath us?

There were cells containing imprisoned liches, Elysia said. She glanced up at James. I guess we didn’t find them all.

Show me. Rowan was clearly in Flame Lord mode, taking command. He had insisted on joining us, and I was grateful. Alexander wouldn’t dare return with him around.

I will show you, Elysia said, then James can release them. She gave James a questioning look and he nodded.

I can do it, Rowan said.

I knew he offered because, like me, he wasn’t happy about James taking life—even if these things were technically dead.

I’ll be freeing them, James said to Rowan. It won’t harm me.

Physically.

I don’t plan to eat their souls. James flashed him a grin of teeth more canine than human. He pulled off his T-shirt and handed it to Elysia.

I noted the way she frowned when he said that. Was it more than a joke?

James removed his sweatpants and passed them to Elysia as well. A shimmer of darkness, and a hellhound suddenly stood in his place. As a hound, he was huge. His shoulders stood higher than my waist. His shaggy black fur was so dark that the shadows swallowed him—or maybe, he swallowed the shadows. Only his glowing green eyes were visible as he walked soundlessly around the sarcophagus and disappeared behind it.

We followed him to a crudely dug stairwell carved into the stone floor. James vanished into the darkness, only the faint green glow from his eyes marking his progress. Ian followed without hesitation, though the rest of us held the flashlights.

Watch yourselves, Elysia said, moving toward the dark hole. We were attacked the last time we were down here.

Attacked? I asked. By what?

Those liches. The one controlling them wasn’t happy about having her space invaded.

I caught Elysia’s arm. Her?

I considered that it might be Matilda. Elysia kept her words soft. But she told me she was a soul reaper. It was my understanding that Mattie was a lich king, like her father.

That’s what he told me, I agreed.

This is probably one of her descendants.

I released her arm, making an effort not to stare at her eyes. Elysia’s golden-brown irises were noticeably lighter than they had been before her adventure in these catacombs. During that ordeal, Elysia had learned that she, too, was a soul reaper—a necromantic blood gift that was as rare as it was deadly. But what really bothered me, and her, was that Ian had known what she was and had never told her.

I aimed my flashlight down the uneven steps and waited while Elysia descended. Here we go again, I said to Rowan.

Era is going to be upset that we explored some catacombs without her.

I bit back a laugh. True. Rowan’s sister Element loved horror movies and ghost hunts. So why is it that we always end up in these places?

I believe we decided that it was part of my master plan to scare you into my arms.

I smiled, remembering the first crypt we had explored together. It had turned out to be Ian’s.

I’ll let you in on a little secret, Your Grace. I looked up into his gray eyes, clearly visible in the light of his lantern. I don’t need to be scared to jump into your arms.

A faint ring of fire ignited around his pupils. Perhaps you would like to demonstrate later.

Perhaps. I gave him a wink, then started down the steps, very aware of him following. It was the most playful he’d been in a while.

The walls closed in the deeper we went, and the scent of damp earth filled my nose. At the base of the stairs, a tunnel stretched into the darkness, the hand-dug walls broken up every few feet by what appeared to be smaller tunnels on either side. I suspected these were the cells Elysia had mentioned.

She hadn’t stopped to examine any of them, but continued to the end of the tunnel where it opened up into a large room.

I stopped just inside, shining my flashlight around the space. A heavy wooden table stood in the center of the room, and I noted with unease the shackles hanging from the underside.

Elysia continued to the far wall and a second table there. She ran her flashlight beam over the surface, illuminating what appeared to be a collection of old tools, then she began examining the floor. Was she looking for something?

Rowan walked past me, and I followed him into the room. He set his lantern on the center table, then lifted one of the shackles for a closer examination before dropping it. The soft clang of metal on metal echoed around the space.

What is this place? I asked.

It is where those who displeased the Nelson Family were Made, Ian said, joining us.

James walked past him, his paws making no sound as he crossed the room to Elysia’s side.

Did you find any…one? I asked.

A pair of liches so old that they had lost their mobility. Ian walked deeper into the room, examining his surroundings with the typical necromancer indifference.

So, this place has been here longer than your tomb? I asked. Ian had been decayed when I found him, but not to the point that it had affected his mobility.

No. Ian walked over to the table of equipment Elysia had been examining.

I frowned at his back.

Blood. The word just popped into my mind.

I glanced over and found Elysia watching me. The hairs on my arms rose. Ever since she had used her magic to save my life, I would occasionally pick up on her thoughts. Since her visit to these catacombs, she was doing more than projecting a random image. She had begun to communicate.

Blood? I mouthed the word.

Necromancer blood delays rot.

I watched Ian pick up another tool, this one a large pair of forceps. He had told me that his brother had continued to visit his tomb. Alexander had lived another forty years after he had Made Ian. Had Alexander used his own blood to keep Ian whole?

I shivered and Rowan lifted a questioning eyebrow. I reached down and gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze, then walked over to Ian.

Any idea where she might be? I asked.

No. He set down the forceps and picked up a pair of thick-bladed scissors.

There are no other souls within the catacombs, James said. He had pulled on his sweatpants.

I sighed. In other words, Matilda wasn’t here—or she was no longer among the living. Damn.

Ian opened the scissors. They moved surprisingly well for such an old tool. Then, too, Ian did possess the strength of the dead.

What now? I asked.

Find Lex. He closed the scissors with a snap.

Will a truth serum work on the dead?

Ian looked up, those vibrant blue eyes meeting mine. I had a strong suspicion that he wasn’t thinking about using a truth serum on his brother.

I gripped his cool wrist just above the hand that held the scissors. Those would not be terribly effective against the dead.

You underestimate my brother’s vanity.

I eyed how meticulously Ian was dressed to explore these catacombs. I doubt it.

A hint of dimples creased his cheeks, but the small smile didn’t last.

Alexander had taken Ian’s daughter for his wife in hopes of combining his and Ian’s considerable power. It had worked. In vengeance, Ian had slipped his brother a potion making it so Alexander could only father powerful female offspring. Thus ending Alexander’s quest to establish a dynasty. But the potion worked too well. Those girls could also only have daughters, and every one of them inherited that same combined power. They were all soul reapers.

A soft growl pulled my attention from Ian to James. He stood with his T-shirt in his hands, but he hadn’t pulled it on. His green eyes were on full glow.

What is it? Rowan asked.

We’re not alone, Elysia said, accepting James’s shirt when he passed it back to her.

I crossed my arms. As if this place wasn’t disturbing enough.

Ian gave my shoulder a pat and walked over to James. A specter?

Aside from a grim, that’s the only thing I know that can walk the veil. James stepped out of his pants and handed them to Elysia. I’ll flush it out.

A shimmer of darkness, and he became the hound. Then he vanished. No portal opened; he simply wasn’t there.

He isn’t accurate, Ian said. The powerful can walk the veil.

Elysia looked up, her faded eyes meeting his. Do you think it’s Matilda?

No. His gaze swept the room. Can you sense James?

Yes, but I feel him through the bond.

Are you sure?

Elysia frowned. Then turned, gazing across the room. A chill crawled up my spine as her eyes seemed to track movement.

It’s the bond, she answered Ian.

But you could sense the other?

She speaks to me.

Ian frowned. I hear nothing.

Elysia’s jaw hardened. I’m not mad—yet. Doug and James couldn’t hear her last time we were here.

I wasn’t implying—

You were considering it.

I was about to cut in when both of them whirled to face the far wall. I turned, as well, and noticed the open portal. James hadn’t left via a portal, but when something on four legs jumped out, I expected it to be him. Then I realized what I was seeing wasn’t canine, it was human. I covered my mouth with one hand as my brain tried to make sense of what it was seeing.

Dear God, Rowan whispered. His shoulder brushed mine as he moved to my side.

The man—if I could still call it that—scurried across the floor on all fours. The problem was that the fours weren’t in the proper order. His limbs had been rearranged. Arms grew from his hips and legs from his shoulders. I couldn’t tell how he had come to be in this condition, because he was so badly decayed that he was little more than dried muscle, tendon, and bone.

The lich thing scuttled across the floor, heading straight for Elysia.

She spun to face the equipment table. Dropping James’s clothes on the surface, she snatched up a scalpel.

What are you doing? I asked. A lich couldn’t be stopped with a scalpel.

It’s soul-reaper Made. I can only control it with my blood. She ran the scalpel across her palm.

No! Ian lunged forward and caught her wrist, but he was too late to stop her from cutting herself. He pushed her behind him, positioning himself between her and the charging creature.

The lich skidded to a stop and rose up on arms that now served as legs. It looked so wrong that it didn’t seem real. I watched in horrified fascination as it kicked at Ian with an upper limb.

Ian turned his shoulders, avoiding the strike, and closed in on it. He caught its head, or rather, its skull, between his palms.

The thing reared up on one… hand and gripped the bottom of Ian’s coat with the other.

Rowan took a step toward him, fire already burning in his eyes.

Ian twisted the lich’s head to the side and pulled upward. The move looked so effortless that I was shocked when the head popped off with a loud crunch. An instant later, the deformed body crumbled as the necromancy holding it together was released. Ian dropped the skull, and it landed with a clatter among the now bare bones.

That’s how Alexander killed Bella, Elysia whispered in the silence.

Bella? Rowan asked.

His eldest daughter, Elysia said. He pulled off her head with no more compassion than that. She gestured at Ian and the pile of bones.

Ian gave her a frown. You will not use your blood gift.

Elysia fisted her hand and a drop of blood fell to the floor. I wasn’t going to reap it; I was just going to sever the bonds that held it to its master.

Where would the soul go once you freed it?

It would— Elysia gasped and whirled away from Ian.

I followed her gaze, trying to figure out what had drawn her attention, when a cloaked figure appeared a few yards in front of her. If it had come through a portal, I hadn’t seen it.

Rowan, don’t. Ian lifted a hand to stop him from ashing the lich, then he stepped around Elysia.

She’s the soul reaper, Elysia whispered. This is her… workshop.

The lich took a step toward Ian. Father?

My mouth fell open. Oh my God, could this be Mattie?

Ian stopped, and a frown darkened his expression. Not the reaction I expected at finding his long-lost daughter.

Is that Matilda? Rowan asked, echoing my suspicions.

I studied Ian’s face, and suddenly I understood. No. Elysia claimed this girl was a soul reaper. Mattie hadn’t possessed that gift.

You never come visit me anymore, Father.

Visit you? Ian asked.

Here. In my workshop. Who is she? The lich waved an arm at Elysia, revealing a glimpse of skeletal fingers beneath the frayed sleeve. She’s a soul reaper. Is she my sister?

How could I be your sister? Elysia demanded.

The hooded head turned toward Elysia, and I took that moment to move closer to Ian. What’s going on? I whispered.

A case of mistaken identity, he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the lich.

She thinks you’re Alexander? I asked. James had told me that Ian and his brother were identical twins.

I’d say Lex fathered a fourth daughter.

There was no record of that.

And the records you found were so accurate? He did have a point. Alexander had altered the birth certificates of Ian’s three youngest sons making them appear to be his.

The lich faced him once more.

Play along, I muttered.

Ian frowned, but didn’t refuse. Can you prove who you are? he asked her. Who were your parents?

You named me Psyche, Father. She took a step toward Ian. Did you find a suitable vessel? Shall I try again? She took my uncle’s journal. She waved a hand at Elysia. But I have it memorized.

What—

Suddenly, a portal whispered open behind her. A clawed hand reached out and caught her shoulder.

James, no! Ian shouted.

James had left the portal open, and though the darkness masked him, I could tell by his height that he was in his true form—as he called it. A mesh of hellhound and human, he towered over the lich, his glowing green eyes now on Ian.

Don’t take her across, Ian said.

James released her shoulder, then leapt from the portal, landing on four paws.

Hellhound! Look out, Father! Psyche pulled a dagger from her belt and lunged at James.

No! Elysia sprang forward and caught her arm. The move did nothing to slow Psyche. Instead, Elysia was pulled off her feet.

Stop! Elysia shouted.

This time, Psyche stumbled. She recovered quickly and spun toward Elysia, lifting her dagger.

A shimmer of darkness, and James was human, yet he moved so fast, I barely followed it. He caught Psyche from behind, seizing her wrist before she could bring the dagger down.

Release me, dead man.

James snarled, but did as commanded.

Psyche still held the dagger aloft, but before she could continue the downward motion, Elysia shoved her bloodied hand into Psyche’s hood. Do not give him commands. Elysia’s eyes went white.

Elysia, don’t, Ian said.

Elysia spared him a glare. Back off, Ian.

Ian? Psyche’s voice was little more than a whisper. She shoved Elysia away and with a single sidestep, vanished.

I blinked. Where did she go? She hadn’t opened a portal.

She’s in the veil, James said, then shifted into the hellhound.

Four portals simultaneously opened around the room. For an instant, I thought James was behind it, then four…things ran out, one from each opening. The first was canine, the limbs realigned so it ran on two legs. The other three were human—or had once been. Their bodies had been disassembled and reattached in bizarre ways that made my stomach turn. They were all little more than skeletons now. I didn’t even want to think about what they must have looked like before they decayed.

James, get Elysia out of here. Ian’s eyes flickered white. Take her to the lab. Now.

A portal opened behind Elysia as James sprang toward her. He bumped into her, and she stumbled back into the portal, then he followed.

James— The rest of Elysia’s words were lost as the portal closed behind them.

The four creatures continued to close on us—or that’s what I thought before the dog thing ran right past me. They were going after Ian.

Stop! he shouted.

The things slid to a halt. None of them breathed, or made a sound. They just watched him with eyeless faces.

Ian’s white eyes glanced in our direction. You two get out of here. He spoke the words between clenched teeth, his attention immediately returning to the things around him.

One of the humanoid creatures dropped into a crouch, its legs folding backward like a grasshopper’s.

I said, stop, Ian repeated.

The grasshopper thing froze, but the one on Ian’s other side took a step toward him. I couldn’t see where its head was. An arm was mounted where its neck should be.

Why can’t you stop them? I reached in the front pocket of my jeans and pulled out a vial.

They’re soul-reaper Made. Go.

I’ve got some necromancy solvent. I held up the vial.

Ian ignored me. Rowan, get her out of here.

The dog thing dropped to all fours, though it still didn’t look right.

I pulled the cap from the vial. I’m not leaving you.

Rowan gripped my shoulder.

We can’t— I didn’t get to finish my plea before all four dead things erupted into roaring pillars of blue-white flame.

Ian threw up an arm, dropping into a crouch. The flames flared all the way to the ceiling, then abruptly vanished. Nothing remained of the four creatures. No ash, no bones, just silence.

Rowan released my shoulder, and the soft chime of metal against metal sounded behind me. I turned to find him braced against the autopsy table, the manacles gently swinging beneath the wooden surface where he had bumped into it.

Ian rose to his feet. That wasn’t necessary.

Rowan’s still glowing eyes shifted to him. You couldn’t hold them.

I could have held them long enough for the two of you to get out of here. Then I would have used the portal to leave.

The orange glow in Rowan’s eyes shrank to a slim band around his pupils. You would have left those things to be found by the next curious person to venture down here?

She is still here. Ian brushed his coat then tugged it straight.

Does she have more of those things? I asked.

I assume not, or they’d be here now.

What were they? Rowan asked.

A soul reaper’s pets, Ian answered.

She made them? Can she make more?

No. Without blood, she cannot use her blood gift, but she is still a soul reaper. I’d rather not test my skill against hers. Ian’s gaze shifted to me. Give him his remedy. We need to go.

Rowan released his grip on the table. I’m not—

You are paler than a corpse and your nose is bleeding, Ian said. But if you prefer, I can carry you out of here.

I reached down the front of my shirt and pulled out the vial I always kept tucked in my bra. "Your nose is bleeding." I offered Rowan the vial.

He pulled a tissue from his pocket and dabbed his nose. I’m fine.

Being less than whole puts Addie in danger, Ian said. Is your pride that important to you?

Fire spread through Rowan’s eyes once more. "You want to lecture me about putting her in danger?"

I stepped between them. Would you two quit? I gave Ian my back and held out the vial to Rowan. Take the damn potion.

Rowan frowned.

Please, Rowan.

He held my gaze for one long moment, and just when I thought he would refuse, he took the vial from my fingers.

A snarl echoed around the room, and suddenly, James was back. No sooner did his paws hit the ground then he was human. He caught Ian by the throat and pinned him to the wall before the portal could close behind him.

One look at James’s face, and I knew he was beyond pissed.

James! I hurried toward them. James, don’t.

Glowing green eyes flicked in my direction, but James didn’t release him. I took your journal, he said to Ian, his voice a low snarl. I read enough of it to know what you were studying.

Was that the journal Psyche mentioned? I asked, glancing between the two of them.

I assume, James answered. I found it here, in this room.

Ian’s eyes flickered white, and James released him with a snarl. How much did you read? Ian demanded. Answer.

Damn it, Ian. He was starting to really piss me off.

Just a line or two, here and there. James’s tone made it clear that he was no happier with Ian than I was. It was enough.

Where is it now? I asked.

We lost it, James said.

Any idea where?

Here, the Nelson Funeral Parlor, I don’t know.

You took it to the funeral parlor? Ian took a step toward him. You’d better hope Neil didn’t read it.

Why? I asked, trying to insert myself between them—at least verbally.

Ian glanced in my direction, a frown wrinkling his forehead, but I didn’t think it was anger. A portal whispered open beside him.

Ian.

His eyes met mine before he stepped into the portal.

What’s this about? I demanded.

Ash alchemy, his voice echoed out of the portal.

I didn’t see the portal close. I fell into a memory.

Chapter 2

Neil smiled at me, his face lightly sweated in the glow of the cremator. He lifted the jar, displaying the gray ashes inside, then dipped in a finger. As I watched, he brought it to his mouth.

I wrinkled my nose. That’s hardly hygienic.

He smacked his lips. Necromancer.

I tried not to laugh. Seriously, that’s gross.

How do you know if you haven’t tried it? Then, too, you wouldn’t be able to sense the power.

Ha ha. He loved to remind me that I wasn’t magical, and that he was. Is he strong enough to suit our purposes?

No blood gift, but he was moderately talented.

So that’s a yes?

His white eyes glinted. That’s a yes. He offered me the jar. I know it works on Old Magic.

I took the jar, holding it up to examine the ashes inside. Ashes that contained a necromancer’s power.

The question is, Neil continued, does it work on New Magic?

I looked up, aware of the Air Element he had imprisoned upstairs. Only one way to find out.

Addie?

I blinked my eyes, trying to focus on Rowan’s face in the dim light. He knelt before me on the floor of the catacombs’ autopsy room.

Your nose is bleeding, James said from behind me. It was he who I leaned against.

I brushed a finger beneath my nose, and it came away bloody.

Déjà vu? James asked, using the term I had chosen for the magical surges of memory I occasionally experienced.

Yes. I pushed myself to my feet, turning my back on them. It had been a long time since I’d had a memory surge strong enough to knock me down.

Anything you want to share? James asked.

Not particularly. I eyed the blood and couldn’t help but wonder just how much blood I had on my hands.

Rowan stepped up beside me and wordlessly offered me a tissue.

Thanks, I muttered and dabbed my nose. James and Rowan maintained their silence, making my pounding heart sound loud in my ears. I knew they wouldn’t pressure me, but we were way past the point where I could remain silent. They both knew that my past was a dark one, and they had forgiven me for it, trusting that I was a better person now.

I took a deep breath and plunged in. I remembered working with Neil, I said. There was a cremator—where, I don’t know. He handed me a jar of ashes, claiming they contained the power of a necromancer.

Did he kill him? James asked, his voice now coming from the other side of the room. He had moved to the equipment table where his clothes still lay.

I don’t know. I swallowed. Nor do I know if I helped him.

My response was met with silence. I could imagine them making eye contact, but I didn’t turn to look.

What was the purpose of the ashes? Rowan asked.

I dabbed my nose again and examined the tissue instead of looking at him. We were studying ash alchemy.

Ash alchemy? What exactly is that?

Knowledge that I had forgotten suddenly filled my mind. Somehow Ian’s mention of the term had unlocked knowledge I hadn’t been aware I had. It wasn’t the first time a powerful déjà vu surge had done that. Strangely, it gave me only the information and not specific memories about how I had acquired it.

I cleared my throat. It’s a branch of alchemy in which the primary, or quintessent ingredient, is the cremated remains of a person, typically someone who had a magical ability.

What purpose does that serve? Rowan asked.

Supposedly, the magical ability can be transferred to someone else.

It works?

You’ve seen it, James said to Rowan. Winters was an ash alchemist.

Winters, Rowan repeated. The crazy doctor haunting the old crematorium on Buffalo Ridge. How do you know?

While we were there, I was shown what he did, but I didn’t have a term for it until I read Ian’s journal.

I looked over my shoulder. What did his journal say?

He was studying soul transference.

What exactly does that mean? I asked.

Just what you’d think. Transferring a soul from one body to another, James said.

Rowan snorted. A necromancer myth.

It’s supposed to be the core ability of the soul reaper blood gift. James’s voice dropped to a whisper. And I can tell you that Elysia really does take a little of each soul she binds. His faintly glowing eyes met mine. You know she’s now connected to you.

You mean the way she’s able to share mental images with Addie? Rowan asked.

She’s getting to the point where she can speak to me, I admitted.

What does that mean? Rowan turned to James. What did she do to Addie?

She saved her life—at the cost of her own.

I won’t let it come to that, I said.

This is her blood gift, her inborn magic. You can’t change that.

Yeah? Watch me.

A smile curled James’s lips, but he didn’t look convinced.

What does all this have to do with Ian’s journal? Rowan asked.

I didn’t get to read much, James said. But I came across a formula. One of the quint ingredients was the ashes of a soul reaper.

A twinge of déjà vu darkened the edges of my vision.

Addie? Rowan’s hand settled on my back.

Do you remember the other ingredients? I asked James.

That one kind of floored me. James shook his head. I didn’t read on. Why would he want a soul reaper’s ability?

I snapped my fingers. The potion he hit his brother with. All Alexander’s daughters were soul reapers.

I considered that, but the journal was written before Ian was Made.

I frowned.

And you don’t know where this journal ended up? Rowan asked James.

I put it in the pocket of Elysia’s robe, but when everything was over, it was no longer there. Neil held her captive for a time.

Rowan sighed, his gaze moving to me. Does he need the journal, or is the information it contains redundant to him?

I couldn’t hold his gaze and frowned at the far wall instead. I got the sense that we were just starting down that road.

Any idea when that was?

Last summer. The end of June. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rowan straighten. Era had been missing for four days around the end of June. I steeled my courage and made myself continue. In my memory, Neil asked me if it would work on New Magic.

Something clanked behind me, and I spun toward the sound. In the beam of my flashlight, I could see one of the shackles swinging on its chain.

We should go, James said. I’ll lead you out of here, then I’m going back to the lab.

Okay, Rowan agreed. I think we’ve learned all we can.

I hoped that was true, but I had a feeling this was just the beginning.

Are you going to spend the whole drive studying the landscape? Rowan asked after we’d been on the road for a few minutes.

I pulled my eyes from the forested hills along the winding two-lane road we were following. I was considering it.

He glanced over before the road forced his attention back on his driving. I thought we had moved beyond this.

This?

Your past.

I don’t think I can ever move beyond that.

Then take the Final Formula, and we’ll face it together.

His suggestion both pleased and horrified me. The fact that he was willing to accept the bad that I might have done was wonderful, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing what evil I might have committed.

Addie?

I won’t take the Formula. With its powerful regenerative properties, the Final Formula would repair the damage Emil had done when he stole the Formula from me. It would return my memories.

It’s not going to make you someone you’re not.

But it might make me someone I once was, and after the glimpses I had gotten of my past, that terrified me. I won’t take it.

Rowan sighed. Well, you and Elysia have that in common.

Yeah. Elysia also refused to take the Final Formula, but not because she feared her past. Her fears lay in the future. Her gift was destined to drive her insane. It wasn’t a future she wanted to prolong—even though the Formula would regrow the partially amputated finger Alexander had severed.

Do you really think you can save her? Rowan asked.

There’s a solution, I know there is. It’s just not something I would ever consider.

Hmm. He didn’t look over, but his lips curled upward.

I’m going to have to think outside the box.

Don’t you always?

Way outside the box. And I’ll have to learn more about necromancy.

That shouldn’t be a problem, considering who your roommates are.

True.

James and Elysia hadn’t returned from the catacombs alone; they’d brought Doug Nelson

Reviews for The Catalyst of Corruption (The Final Formula Series, Book 4)

[Walt Scrivens · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Wow! This is the best yet in the series! Necromancy 101, Surprise revelations of hidden talents, Breakups and reconciliations, friends turning out to be enemies and vice versa, subterranean crypts, and a shocking anticlimax all combine to make this book one you just can’t put down! Becca Andre's skills as a researcher shine in her descriptions of the Cincinnati concert hall and its history. (You can do a virtual tour on YouTube.) And her background as a chemist ensures a degree of technical realism.