The Element of Death (The Final Formula Series, Book 1.5) by Becca Andre Page B

found that the area where the circle had been was buried as well. So much for the pliers.
    “Are you all right?” Rowan stumbled out of the hole behind him.
    James opened his mouth to tell him to watch for blood, but Rowan was already through the hole. “We’re still trapped,” he said instead.
    “I see.” Rowan dropped to a seat on an upturned block. Elbows resting on his thighs, he sat hunched over, head hanging.
    James rolled to his hands and knees. The movement made his head swim, and he stilled, waiting for his vision to clear.
    “Why is it so cold in here?” Rowan asked.
    James realized he was right. Lifting his head, he found a pair of polished shoes a few feet away. He looked upward and discovered the burned man standing over him. James sank down on his haunches, a growl trying to escape his human throat.
    “What is it?” Rowan asked.
    “We have company.”
    “One of Winters’ minions?”
    The burned man lifted his arms. Winters is free. The ground began to shake.
    Chapter
    7
    J ames pushed himself to his feet. He swayed—whether from the quaking floor or the blood loss, he wasn’t sure—then launched himself at the ghost. He landed hard in the spot where the burned man had been, and caught a whiff of charred meat. A chunk of ceiling crashed down beside him, and he threw an arm over his head. Unable to do anything else, he curled up in the rubble, bracing for impact.
    Moments later, the shaking stopped. James lifted his head, surprised that nothing had fallen on him.
    “James?” Rowan called.
    “Yeah, I’m good. You?”
    “Look behind you.”
    James turned. The mound of debris blocking the room’s only exit had parted, exposing the doorway to the corridor. He got to his feet and braced a hand on the side of the cremator to get his balance, the hot bricks warming his palm.
    The way is open. Stop him. The last word was an airy whisper, then it was gone.
    “Did we just get some help?” Rowan asked.
    “I think so. Come on.” James started for the door.
    “What’s the plan?”
    “We find a way to get these staples out of my back, then I take Winters and his girlfriend to hell.”

    It seemed to take hours to make their way to the foyer. James stumbled along beside Rowan, both of them using the walls for support. The building rumbled from time to time, but it seemed that Winters’ minions hadn’t built up enough energy to do more. Or maybe the burned man was running interference.
    Reaching the foyer doorway, James stepped around the wrought iron chandelier, careful not to trip and fall on the thing.
    “I guess the quaking damaged more than the basement.” Rowan eyed the damaged chandelier as he followed James into the room.
    “No. That was an earlier attempt to stop me.” James crossed the room to where he’d left the duffle bag. “The burned guy didn’t want Winters freed.”
    “Burned guy?”
    “The spirit that helped us get out of the basement. I suspect he was one of Winters’ victims.” James dug out the first-aid kit. He’d kept his injured hand fisted and close to his chest, but blood had seeped out between his fingers, trickling over his wrist and dampening his sleeve.
    Rowan stopped behind him. “Where’d you get that?”
    “Donovan tossed it in the portal after me. Didn’t you wonder where I got the clothes?”
    “Honestly? I hadn’t really thought about it.”
    James found a roll of gauze and with the help of his teeth, began to quickly wind it around his hand and forearm. He used the entire roll, then ripped off a piece of medical tape to secure it in place. It was a sorry bandaging job, but it would keep the blood contained. For now.
    “Anything we can use to get those staples out?” Rowan asked. “Tweezers?”
    James held up a tiny plastic pair.
    Rowan grunted. “I was hoping for something more…substantial.”
    “We can search the room where I saw the staple gun.” James pushed himself to his feet. The room spun around him, but Rowan caught his arm