Free The Necromancer's Betrayal (The Final Formula Series, Book 2.5) by Becca Andre Page B

fled.
    James pulled in a breath, surprised by the way the hound had reacted.
    “Doug, don’t.” Elysia frowned.
    “He was doing something. Probably about to run.”
    Elysia gave James a questioning look.
    “Something’s wrong,” he told her.
    “What do you mean?”
    Doug rolled his eyes. “He’s in a building full of corpses and necromancers. He would probably piss down his leg—if he could.”
    James glared at Doug’s back as he led them through the double doors.
    “Sorry,” Elysia whispered. “Keep the goal in mind.”
    James gritted his teeth and followed her into the room. He had only gone a few yards when a clank sounded, followed by a soft hissing noise. A white fog billowed up, surrounding them. James caught a whiff of Knockout Gas and held his breath.
    Doug slumped to the floor, his head thumping against the tile. Elysia stumbled and James sprang forward, catching her before she fell. He lowered her to the floor, then stepped back and called the hound. His other form wasn’t susceptible to alchemic fogs. The world came alive and—
    Something cold settled around his throat and snapped shut. His senses winked out. James gasped, inadvertently sucking in a lungful of Knockout Gas. He reached up to grip the collar. Iron. He had been locked in iron.
    He whirled to face his captor and almost tripped over his own feet. Darkness encroached on his vision as a form stepped out of the fog.
    James tried to force a growl through his human throat, but the sound of his knees smacking the tile drowned it out. Black robes filled his darkening vision. A master alchemist’s robes. He lifted his head.
    “So good to see you again, James.” Neil’s white eyes met his before James slipped into oblivion.
     
    James woke with a headache that wasn’t helped by the raised voices only a few feet away.
    “…no excuse. You could have warned me.” Doug said.
    “I couldn’t chance it, Nelson. Stop whining. The only thing hurt is your pride.”
    James turned his head to see Neil and Doug standing to his right, their backs to him. Beyond them, mortuary drawers lined the tiled wall. That explained the cold metal surface beneath him. He lay on one of the autopsy tables in the center of the room.
    “She wasn’t going to try anything,” Doug continued. “If she had, I would have simply taken him from her.”
    Elysia. Doug was talking about Elysia. Where was she? James wanted to sit up and look around, but didn’t want to alert Neil and Doug that he was awake. He preferred to listen without their knowledge.
    “I would rather err on the side of caution.” Neil turned around.
    James closed his eyes and listened to the two men move closer.
    “Amazing, isn’t he?” Neil stood over him now. “The culmination of alchemy and necromancy. Life and death in one.”
    “He’s a permanently animated corpse that doesn’t rot. Get on with it.”
    Neil sighed and moved away from James’s table. “You can’t give him to your father.”
    “Why not?”
    Paper rattled, followed by a moment of silence. James cracked his eyes open. Doug and Neil had walked to a nearby counter, their backs to him once more. Doug held a newspaper. Even from several yards away, James recognized the picture. It was the one of him and Addie leaving the PIA offices with a cloaked Rowan and Donovan. The picture had made another run in the paper in December.
    “I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me,” Doug said.
    “Who? Amelia?” Neil snorted. “There are probably a dozen things she isn’t telling you. But yes, she found the grim, then gave him to the Flame Lord.”
    “Gave him? How does that work? He’s New Magic.”
    “Alchemy, I assume. Never underestimate an alchemist. Especially that one.” Neil tapped the picture, rattling the paper.
    Doug stood in silence. Reading the article?
    “If you give your father the grim, he won’t be able to resist showing him off,” Neil said.
    “He can’t be left with the Elements, either. Though