Chapter 15

James ghosted through the trees not far from the Athens cemetery where he and Elysia had encountered George earlier today—or was it yesterday. It was probably after midnight.

He lowered his nose to the ground, not needing to work too hard to pick up George’s scent. His brother had made no effort to hide it when he fled from him. Damn, that had been satisfying. Unfortunately, it also meant that George was now actively avoiding him.

James was able to follow his brother’s trail through the trees to a narrow road. He found fresh ruts in the grass verge where George had spun the tires in his effort to get out of there quickly. The scent of the freshly turned earth was still the dominant smell, stronger than the tar and oil odor rising from the old asphalt.

That’s where the trail ended. James couldn’t differentiate one car from another once they were on the road. And since George didn’t live in, or even frequent the area, he had no idea where he might have gone. Probably another seedy motel.

James squelched the urge to howl his frustration at the night sky. Maybe it was for the best. He couldn’t have done much with George if he had found him. He wouldn’t break his word to Elysia. Besides, she was right that they needed to learn more about all of this. Specifically, the bonds that soul reapers made.

Pulling open a portal, he traveled the land of the dead, stepping out into Elysia’s room in Addie’s apartment. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, then stepped out into the hall, calling the hound to search for other souls in the building. Ian was downstairs, but James found no sign of Addie. She must still be at the manor.

Smiling, James headed down the stairs to Ian’s room. He found him sitting at the small table against the wall, a wooden box open before him. It wasn’t the box they had found at the old gun shop. This one was smaller with some elaborate scrollwork on the lid. James couldn’t see the contents from his line of sight.

Ian glanced at him as he stepped through the doorway. “Good morning.” Ian turned his attention back to the box, lifting out a slender gold chain. “I appreciate that you took a moment to pull on some pants.”

“I didn’t want a lecture.”

Ian smiled, but kept his attention on what he was doing.

“Addie stayed at the manor?” James stepped closer to the table. The box was velvet lined and contained an assortment of folded papers and what looked like an old picture.

“Rowan called. Apparently, she fell asleep during movie night—whatever that is. I emphasized that she has had little sleep in weeks, just in case that was a euphemism.”

James bit back a laugh. “It’s not.” He waved a hand at the table. “What’s all this?”

Ian carefully closed the lid on the box as if wanting to hide the contents from view. “You could say it’s my family history.” Holding the chain and what might be a locket in his fist, he got to his feet to walk to the antique armoire where he stored his clothes. He carefully dropped the chain into one of his coat pockets.

Closing the doors with a soft thump, he turned to face James. “I wondered if you would be by.”

James frowned. “You did?”

“The world has changed much while I was… away. I didn’t know if the same expectations applied, or if you would recognize me as patriarch of the family. Elysia never knew her father, correct?”

“From what I understand, no one even knows who he was.” James wanted to shake his head. Where was Ian going with this? “I suspect the guy doesn’t even know he has a daughter.”

“Yet it doesn’t make me want to punch him any less.”

James smiled. “True.”

“So I guess that leaves me to fill the role her father should have.”

“I guess.” James eyed him, still at a complete loss.

Ian abruptly laughed. “Why do you look so apprehensive? Even if I refused to give my blessing, I wouldn’t think it would matter that much to you.”

His blessing. Suddenly, James understood. “You know Elysia agreed to marry me.”

“Yes, Rowan told me.”

The whole discussion on Elysia’s fatherless state now made sense. Ian thought James was here to ask for Elysia’s hand in marriage. The idea seemed so silly. This decision was Elysia’s. Even if she had a father, his opinion wouldn’t matter. And yet, this was what Ian expected from James. It was how things were done in his day. James didn’t want to give Ian another reason to disapprove of him.

“So…” James hesitated. Were there particular words for this occasion? Of course, he could always pretend that things had changed since Ian’s day. “Do I have your blessing?”

Ian chuckled. “A little informal, but then, I should be grateful for the pants.”

“Ha ha.” James waited. “Well?” he asked when Ian didn’t immediately speak.

“I’m debating on whether to torment you.”

James frowned. “Did Isabelle’s father torment you?”

“Her great uncle, and no. Not intentionally. He was an alchemist. I had to get him to stop digging through his old alchemy texts to answer me.”

Well aware of the alchemist mentality, James smiled. “I assume he said yes.”

“More of a muttered, ‘Yes, yes, boy. Now climb up on that stool and fetch me this journal I’m looking for.’ He was also my mentor.”

James continued to smile, imagining that easily.

Ian reached out and gripped his shoulder, his expression turning serious. James tensed, not sure what to expect. Ian had made it clear on many occasions that he didn’t like the idea of James pursuing Elysia.

“You have my blessing,” Ian said.

The relief that washed over James surprised him. “Thank you. She is everything to me; I won’t let you down.”

A squeeze, and Ian took his hand away. He returned to the table where his box still sat and ran his fingers reverently across the lid. James realized the scrollwork was actually a pair of intertwined cursive I’s. Ian and Isabelle.

“Her uncle gave Isabelle this as a wedding gift,” Ian said, watching his own fingers trace the lid. “We were leaving the next day for Ohio, and he wanted her to have something small to carry her jewelry in.”

“The craftsmanship is impressive,” James offered, needing to say something. He really didn’t know anything about such objects.

“In those days, undertakers were often skilled woodworkers. Some made more than coffins. Isabelle’s cousin made this.” Ian smiled. “It had to be made in a hurry since our wedding and departure were a bit of a rush, seeing as I had ostracized myself from the entire necromancer community.”

“How did you manage that?”

Ian sighed and finally looked up. “Protecting Lex.”

“I’m afraid I can’t relate,” James admitted. He truly couldn’t imagine having a relationship with one of his brothers like the relationship Ian had with Alexander—before it went wrong. “I want to kill my last surviving brother—which is another reason I’m here.” The true reason he was here.

“So you intend to make Elysia a widow before you’ve even made her a wife?”

“No. I want your opinion on something.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“As a soul reaper, Elysia forms these unbreakable bonds. I’m wondering if she might have made herself my anchor—in addition to my brother.” It had been Elysia who suggested the theory that his brother was his anchor, but James took it a step further.

“Your anchor? Necromantic anchors aren’t people. The heart of the Made is used to anchor a soul to the mortal world.”

“But I wasn’t created with necromancy. I was created with alchemy.” He used the argument he had used with Elysia.

“The basic magic still comes from necromancy.”

“What about necromancers who Make with their blood, like you could?” When Ian was alive and had blood.

“The heart is still the anchor,” Ian insisted. “It just isn’t removed from the body.”

“But if the anchor is destroyed, the soul is freed—just like I will be if all my brothers die.”

“I still don’t see how they could be anchors,” Ian insisted. “The heart is used because it is considered the center of life. Once it ceases to beat, death follows.”

“I never had a beating heart. I was stillborn and already bound when I entered the world.”

Ian frowned as he considered that.

“It was the soul reaper ashes that alchemist used to make the first grim. He tapped into the soul reaper’s ability to bind the living,” James went on, his excitement growing. “Don’t you see? Elysia is an anchor.”

“I’m not so sure—”

“Think about it. If Addie or Doug die, they become Elysia’s liches, right?”

“That’s the way I understand it,” Ian agreed.

“So she’s already bound them to the mortal plane, before their deaths. Their hearts can’t be their anchors because they’re still beating. Elysia is their anchor. And she bound me, too.”

“It does sound plausible,” Ian agreed. “But there are some differences between you and the others. You were already dead, and if your theory is correct, you had an anchor—or anchors.”

“But she took my soul from the other side and created a new link.”

“Again, I want to agree with you, but without a full understanding of the alchemy that created the original grim, or how the soul reaper blood gift truly works, I can’t say for certain.”

“It feels right,” James insisted.

“You are barely more than an apprentice in the field of alchemy, and you have little knowledge of necromancy.”

James crossed his arms. “That doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. You want Elysia to be your anchor. And you have convinced yourself that it is true.”

“No. I feel it.”

“James.” Ian once again placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know you want to be free of your brother, but this isn’t the solution. Not now, anyway. We will catch him and lock him up. Once we learn more about how you were created, then we can consider other… alternatives.”

“But—”

“Do I need to lock you up?” Ian winked. “I’ll do it. For Elysia.”

“Fine.” James gave in. Not because he thought Ian had a chance of carrying out his pseudo-threat, but because James could see that he would never convince him. Not without more proof. He had to find a way to prove it to him.

“Go home,” Ian said. “Get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.” He clapped James on the shoulder before releasing him. “Or should I say, today?”

A flurry of carnivorous butterflies reawakened in James’s stomach. How could Ian expect him to sleep now?

Ian smiled, perhaps picking up on his nerves.

“Very well,” James agreed. Maybe he’d be able to sleep a little.