Soulbound (16 page)

L
ife and noise surged around Eliza like the incoming tide. She’d never been in the presence of so many people at once. They surrounded her, calling out prices, shouting to one another, laughing and carousing. It was a discordant song that had her head reeling. The fair was an open-air market, hemmed in on both sides by buildings. Canopied stalls lined the walls and, along the ground, vendors had set up areas by simply placing their wares upon tatty blankets. And everywhere, people were purchasing old and very worn clothes.

Adam gave her arm a squeeze. The pair of demons he’d beaten to a pulp were now healed and snaking through the crowd to close in on them.

“Bloody hell,” Adam muttered, his limping gate growing worse.

Eliza slowed and reached for her pocket.

Which caused Adam to stumble. “What are you doing, woman?”

“Hold a moment,” Eliza murmured, and before he could protest her stalling, she pulled the gun from her pocket and raised it in the air. “Home rule! Free Ireland!” Her voice bellowed out over the crowded streets, and then she shot the gun in rapid succession.

The crowd scattered like pigeons, shouting and crying.

“Christ,” Adam snarled, grabbing Eliza’s arm and wrenching it down to hide the gun. “Don’t dally when you’ve started a riot.”

Already, a wave of humans, trying to flee, was rushing toward them. Adam pulled her around a coffee monger’s cart just before it toppled under the onslaught.

“It will slow those bastards down, at the least,” Eliza said, bracing Adam up once more.

“Aye, and trample us to boot.”

“It seemed a good idea —”

Something large and hard slammed into her shoulder, tearing her from Adam’s grasp and sending her reeling.

“Adam!”

A rotund man lumbered past as a swarm of people swallowed Adam up. Eliza struggled to get back to him, but it was no use, she was swept along in the opposite direction. Elbows and shoulders knocked her about, and it was all she could do to stay on her feet. Eliza shoved her way towards the walls that made up the market’s main square. With a great push against a young man’s side, she stumbled into a small alleyway.

Sweating, she leaned against a wall and tried to ease her breathing. Adam was out there, hurt and possibly trampled. The magnitude of how much that distressed her was shocking and made her throat ache. For all their strife, Eliza had felt oddly safe and right knowing that he was in the world, that he lived somewhere, even when she hadn’t been near him. If he were to die, if the golden light of his soul were to go dim, she’d be bereft.

The wrongness of his demise struck her to the core, and her chest began to quake with the mad urge to cackle like a harpy.

“No,” she whispered, terror clutching her heart. She knew that laugh. Hot, acid tears burned in her eyes. “No, no.” Adam could not be dead. She would
not
laugh at his death. A small snicker escaped her. Gods, but she was deranged. Why did she laugh near death? She hated herself for it.

A hard hand grasped her arm and spun Eliza around.

“Adam…”

The man looking down at her was not Adam. Tall and wide with bulk, and rumpled beneath a battered coat, the man had the eyes of a killer. The sort of man who took joy preying on the weak. Eliza had spent far too much of her life either facing or avoiding such men.

Their gazes clashed, his flat and cold. Eliza glared back, putting every ounce of her will behind the look. “Who are you?”

“The poor sod assigned to watch your arse.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Lord Mellan had me follow you and see that you don’t muck things up.” The man sneered, revealing a row of brown teeth. “Looks like you have already.” He gave a jerk with his head toward the market where people were calming down but still shouting. “You weren’t supposed to kill the man until he led you to the sword.”

The mention of Adam sent a bolt of urgency through Eliza, and she wrenched free of the man’s brutal grip. “You’re human.” Were he fae, she wouldn’t have been able to get free of him, nor would he have smelled like rotten tobacco.

“Well I know, mot.” The man shrugged. “Lord Mellan suspected this Adam bloke might notice a fae.”

She straightened her spine. “I have to go. As you say, I’ve a job to finish, and it won’t get done sitting here with you.” She wanted far away from this man. “If you’ll excuse me.”

His weathered face split into a jack-o’-lantern’s grin, complete with naught but two yellowed teeth hanging from the maw of his mouth. Hot, fetid breath brushed her cheeks. “Why the rush, lamb? The GIM Maker will keep. I’ve seen to it.”

“He’ll keep?” Disgust warred with fear. “What did you do?”

“Slipped me shiv into a pair of demon hearts. They won’t be chasing him.” The man laughed, a rusty, broken sound. “As for your wayward mark, he’s likely lying in the gutter where the crowd pushed him.”

A sharp breath left her, and she started forward, intent upon finding Adam and helping him.

The man’s hand slapped down on her shoulder. “Hold your water. Spare ol’ Gus ’ere a piece, eh?”

A familiar feeling inside of Eliza broke loose, quaking like an earth tremor. That dark, ugly, hidden spot within her wanted to reel this tumescent insect of a man into her web and suck him dry.

No, no, no.
Do not do this, Eliza.
But that giddy, swelling feeling bubbled and rose to the surface. “You have two choices, sir. Let me go and live.” Her voice was not her own, now cold and oddly high. She took note of the fact with a detached air, as she glanced down at the grimy hand upon her shoulder. He was missing a nail upon his middle finger. “Or keep touching me and die.”

He laughed then, a wheezing sound, sending more of his foul breath into her lungs. “You’ve got spirit.” A rough hand grabbed hold of her skirts, yanking on them, as his eyes went duller. “I like that in me women.”

She hit the brick wall with such quick force that she saw stars. And then her mad cackle rang out, giving her attacker pause. It was the last sound he’d hear. When she spoke, it was ice, coating her tongue and lips with frigid cold. “Wrong choice.”

His form grew hazy, a grey fog settling over him, or perhaps it was her vision. She did not care. Rage punched into her, giving her strength. Her fingers wrapped around his neck.

Her laughter grew in force, until it sounded more like a screech. He gaped at her, his mouth hanging open, and that strange muddy fog surrounded him, and then coalesced, swirling even as he writhed, trying to break free of her grip. He ought to be able to, yet he struggled, the grey fog growing thicker.

A cold sweat broke out over Eliza, and again came the unnatural, twitching need to laugh or cry. Her chest shook with it, tears forming in her eyes. “No more,” she said, and the fog shot free from his body, flying up high into the sunlit sky and evaporating in the next instant. In her hand, the man sank, a suddenly unbearably heavy weight.

As if burned, she let go, and he flopped to the ground, his eyes sightless, and a dark stain of urine spreading over his undone trousers. Dead.

Eliza spun and vomited. Over and over. Until there was nothing left. Pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes, she fought back a revolting laugh. How could she laugh? She needed to be away from this place, away from the body. With wooden movements, she walked out of the alleyway. Ice filled her veins, made her steps stiff. She shivered, too cold, too sick.

He mustn’t know. Adam could not know what she’d done.
Mellan had used her “talent” for his own gain, and while she did not think that Adam would do that, he might refuse to help her, repulsed by the darkness inside of her. For she also knew that, despite his flaws, Adam was not an evil man.

The Rag Fair’s main square had quieted down. People milled about, some in a daze, others talking heatedly about what had happened. Coppers were in full force, ordering those loitering to move on.

Shaking and cold, Eliza surveyed the square, searching for a sign of Adam and fearing the worst.

“Eliza!” His deep voice rang out with such power that several heads turned.

A sob tore from her as she spotted him limping forward, bearing his weight on a thin length of timber that appeared to be a table leg. She thought no more on the oddity, but found herself wrapped up in his arms, her face pressed up against the warmth of his chest. God, but she was cold. So cold. She tucked herself closer to Adam’s big body. It was the only solid, real thing around her. She could rest there forever and be happy.

“Eliza,” he breathed, hands running over her back. “Thank God.”

His heart beat rapidly within his chest, and the scent of his sweat mixed with hers. She’d run to him. The realization stole over her. She’d run across the square and thrown herself at him. And he’d caught her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry I lost you.”

“You didn’t lose me,” he said softly. “I’m here.”

And her tension eased. He was here. Alive and whole. And suddenly she felt foolish for carrying on so.

“Were you hurt?” she asked in what she hoped was a calmer tone.

He snorted. “Crippled further, you mean?” The muscles along his chest flexed. “No. thrown about, more like. But I’ll live.”

The disgruntlement in his voice made her want to smile. He clearly berated himself for his weakened state. Foolish man. He was a warrior. Pure and simple. Eliza had underestimated Adam, smugly thinking herself safe, that she could control him because he was wounded of body and kept weak by Mab’s chains. How foolish. He’d dispatched two large and street-hardened demons without even standing. And done it in less time than it would have taken Eliza to unlace just one of her walking boots.

Eliza was able to defend herself against one man, but against a group of them? She was far too helpless, her power only working with one-on-one contact. A group of men had killed her before Adam restored her life. Strangely, she’d never had a man protect her without demanding she be of service to him.

He’d fought for her. And he would do so again. Her champion.

And she was grateful to him. But when he tried to ease back to look at her, she resisted for a moment. Adam, however, was insistent, and pried her from his chest.

“What happened?” His worried gaze darted over her face. “Why have you been crying?”

Damn her weak eyes. Damn him for noticing. “I haven’t been crying.” She wiped at the sticky wet of her grimy cheeks. “I got coal smoke in my eyes. This blasted city is as foul as the devil’s den.”

Adam did not appear appeased by her answer. And Eliza spoke before he could. “We’ve got to get those blasted chains off so you can properly heal.”

“It won’t be easy now that we’ve demons looking out for us.”

Eliza nodded, but her mind worked through the problem. “I’ve an idea who can get us to Lucien’s barge.”

E
liza looked up at the house. An ugly, cruel, iron-spiked gate circled the massive structure, whose long windows were shuttered against the street. Not precisely the most welcoming home in London.

“This is Holly Evernight’s house.” Adam did not appear pleased. No, he wouldn’t be. As Sin had told Eliza, Holly’s man, Will Thorne, had been the one to distract Adam while Sin had set Eliza free.

He’d have to get over it. “Holly is the greatest inventor in London.” Eliza took his arm. “And my distant cousin, to boot. Lucien’s barge is being watched. Thus we have to figure out how to get to it. Holly might be able to help.” Or slam the door in their faces. Eliza hadn’t met her, but desperate times and all that.

Grumbling, he hit the door buzzer – a wonderous thing – and they waited. What Eliza did not expect was to see her cousin Sin jogging down the drive, his gaze darting about as though something might soon tackle him. “Eliza,” he got out a bit breathlessly before glancing at Adam. Sin blanched but gave him a nod. “Adam of the GIM.”

Eliza’s heart was beating too fast. Sin was Mab’s creature, whether he willed it or not. She could not take chances. “Let us in, Sin.” And when he moved to open the gate, she caught Adam’s eye. He peered back at her, frowning.
Follow my lead
, she tried to say with a look.

He barely blinked, and she wondered if it was an acknowledgment. She’d have to believe so. The moment they entered Evernight’s drive, Eliza rounded on Sin. “Hold him,” she said to Adam.

In an instant, Adam whipped one of his chains around Sin’s neck and pulled tight. Adam held him fast, his free hand fisted in Sin’s shirt. For Sin’s part, he did not fight but stood still, his green eyes narrowed and annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” Eliza said. “But you’ve admitted to being bound to Mab. I’d not have come here had I known you were in residence.”

Sin nodded as much as he was able. “Choose your words carefully, and we’ll have no problems.”

“Lad,” said Adam conversely, “you’re the one with the chain around your neck.”

“Oh, aye,” Sin drawled, his accent suddenly lilting Irish, “and there you stand, weak as a newly born kitten. I’m quaking, I am.”

Adam growled and gave the chain a squeeze.

“You realize,” Sin said, “that I’m all elemental. I could freeze you solid before burning you alive.”

Adam showed his teeth. “And I could snap your neck before you take your next breath.”

“Oh, stop,” Eliza said. And then thought about Sin’s earlier confession. “You’re bound to tell Mab if there is a danger of my consorting with Adam.”

“To the letter,” Sin said, sounding somewhat pleased, given that chains were choking him. “Since the two of you are already consorting, can we dispense with these?”

“Not yet.” Adam leaned in. “You and I both know Mab will be asking if you know where Eliza might have gone.”

“Yes,” Sin admitted.

“Swear that you’ll stay out of her way for this day, and I’ll let you go.” Adam glanced at Eliza. “After that, it will not matter what the boy tells her.”

Sin’s dark brows knitted, and Eliza swore she saw flames in his eyes. But he conceded. “I swear.” He rubbed his neck as soon as Adam let him go. “You needn’t have squeezed so tight.”

Adam snorted. “Call it a bit of payback thrown in.”

Both men tromped up the drive and Eliza followed in tow, biting back a small smile.

Evernight House was much like any other, if one ignored the strange brass panels on the walls, sporting numerous buttons that Adam longed to push and then take apart to see how the ingenious Miss Evernight had done it. He’d always admired the lady.

It was too quiet here, however. Like that of a tomb. As St. John Evernight led them down a hall, their footsteps echoed in the eerie silence, punctuated by Adam’s limping step and the rattle of chains. Adam bit back a smirk. The ghost of Jacob Marley indeed. Eliza was not far off there. Adam would be well and glad to be rid of the blasted things.

A flash of dull grey caught Adam’s attention, just before a young woman with black hair strode around the corner.

“What is that infernal racket?” she snapped. “I’m conducting a very delicate experiment —”

They stopped at the sight of Holly Evernight, and she stopped as well. Her cool gaze moved over them. Her blue eyes hit upon Adam, and she backed up a step. “I know you. What do you want?”

Adam made as graceful a bow as he could, given his chains and a lame leg. “Miss Evernight, please know that I bear you no ill will.”

“Perhaps I bear some toward you,” Miss Evernight retorted. But she turned to Eliza. “Miss… May?”

“Eliza,” Miss May corrected, taking a tentative step towards her. “I’d been meaning to visit. Though I’d hoped it wouldn’t be under these circumstances. And I do apologize for coming to call unexpectedly.”

Holly Evernight’s stiffness broke like a tart crust. Suddenly she beamed, her stern features brightening. “And I’ve been meaning to visit you, to assure that you are well. Please do forgive my rudeness. I’ve been known to get caught up in my own world.”

“Perish the thought, Petal.” A man popped his head out from a doorway, his white hair brushing the tops of his shoulders. He had the grin of a man content with his lot in life. Adam knew him on sight: Will Thorne, Holly Evernight’s mate, and the demon responsible for freeing Eliza from Adam.

As if he sensed a threat, Thorne caught Adam’s gaze, and his entire frame tensed. He stepped into the hall, and his fangs peaked out from the corners of his lips. “What goes on here?”

Miss Evernight lifted her hand, just enough for Thorne to move to her side – which he did in the blink of an eye – and take hold of it. “Dearest,” she said to him, “Eliza and Adam are here for a visit.”

Thorne’s expression was dubious. “Tea with the GIM King, I am honored.”

Adam snorted. “Put your fangs away, demon. I’m not here for vengeance.”

Thorne merely ran the tip of his tongue over one fang.

“Enough,” said Holly, giving Thorne an elbow to his ribs. “Welcome, Eliza.” She gave Adam a weak smile. “And you, Adam. I… well, I am not sorry for our part in freeing my cousin, but as the two of you seem to be together once again, I suspect there is more to the tale.” Miss Evernight gave a pointed look at the chains Adam could not fully hide beneath his greatcoat.

“Indeed,” drawled Thorne. “Lovely adornments, mate. Quite musical.”

Adam showed his own teeth. They might not include fangs, but he knew how to use them. “When last we met, you’d turned human. So I gather there is more to your tale as well.”

Thorne shrugged. “Got the girl, the witch was banished, and they lived happily ever after.”

Eliza snickered by Adam’s side. St. John, who had been rather quiet, rolled his eyes. “I see everything is well at hand here. I am going.” He kissed both Eliza and Holly on the cheek before walking off.

Thorne frowned after him, but then turned back to Eliza and Adam. “Shall we?” He gestured for them to follow him.

Unlike the gloom in the hall, the library they entered was bright and cheerful. And massive. Books lined the walls, the shelves stretching up to the ceilings. A seating arrangement of buttery leather chairs and couches was set before an ornate fireplace with a deep green marble mantle. Papers, books, metal cogs and coils, and numerous other objects cluttered the floor, the desk before the windows, and even the piecrust table in the corner.

In short, people lived here.

Miss Evernight bade them to sit, stopping to lift a stack of books from one seat and putting them on the ground instead. “Will and I do like to spread out,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose.

“It is lovely,” Eliza assured her, and Adam felt a pang, for he knew she envied their homey environs. He wanted to give her that. A home. Comfort. He did not know why, but the compulsion was real. As was the need for his own home.
Someday.

Miss Evernight looked to Eliza. “Tell me, what brings you here? Not that I have cause for complaint. I am happy to have you, please know.”

“We need your assistance,” Eliza said. “I know it appears odd, my being here with Adam. We…” Eliza shook her head. “Mab is not the beneficent aunt I believed her to be.”

Thorne let out a crack of laughter. “Understatement of the day.”

Miss Evernight frowned. “I ought to have taken you in with me. For that I am sorry.”

“What did she do to you?” Eliza asked. Her discomfort in the subject was clear, but she forged on. “I know it was some foul mischief, but it would help to understand her.”

Holly sat back, and almost as though she did not realize it, her hand reached across the space between her and Thorne. His hand was there to catch hers, and their fingers linked. “I was dying, my powers turning on me because I’d been using them too much to help William.” Their fingers visibly squeezed before relaxing. “Mab was the only one to offer help. Which she would do in exchange for a price.”

Thorne’s gaze locked on Adam. “To save Holly, I agreed to take Eliza from you, and forfeit both my immortality and Holly.”

A strange sorrow punched into Adam’s chest. Despite what the world thought of him, Adam’s respect for love was only second to yearning for a love of his own. Tender-hearted sap that he was, he’d often created a GIM simply to spare that spirit the loss of love. He’d certainly done so for Sin’s sister, Daisy Ranulf.

“It was hell,” Thorne whispered.

Eliza made a sound of distress, which in turn distressed Adam. Yet the tight rage he’d held on to in regards to Thorne eased. He could not hate Thorne anymore.

“This was all because of me?” Eliza whispered before lurching to her feet. All the color washed out of her pretty face.

“Not you,” Adam cut in before Thorne could answer. “Because of me.” When she shot him a look of irritated disbelief, he wanted to smile, but could not. “She was after me. To take you away from me meant that she’d win my soul.”

Thorne leaned in, his chair creaking under him, and fixed his silver stare on Adam. “Look, mate, this isn’t our business, but you’re here, asking for help and knowing far too much of Mab for my comfort. So I’ll ask you directly, what is this curse you’re under and how did it happen?”

Eliza perked up with such obvious anticipation that he could barely restrain a smile. He did not care about Thorne or his concerns, but Eliza deserved the truth. And Adam knew he’d no cause to fear that his secret would go farther than this room. He could read that in Thorne’s eyes quite well.

“Long ago,” Adam started, “I was a Knight of the Templars. After returning from my pilgrimage to Jerusalem, I was sent to explore Ireland under the express orders to gather heathen relics and bring them back to the church.” Adam gave a wry smile. “The idea being that they would destroy them, though I knew full well they merely wanted to possess these items because they feared the power within them.”

Adam waved a hand. “I thought it ridiculous superstition but did my duty. I’d plundered half of Ireland when I came upon a low hill. The locals called it
sídhe,
a fairy mound.”

Thorne snorted. “Let me guess, you did not believe in wee fairies either?”

“No,” Adam said with equal humor. “I’d soon learn otherwise, for I’d attracted the attention and the ire of their Queen Mab.”

Even all these centuries later, Adam could perfectly recall the visceral shock as the beautiful, red-headed woman with strange purple eyes simply appeared from out of a thick, green fog. “Mab, you must know, loves men. She loves to bed them, but particularly the reluctant ones.” Adam kept his gaze away from his audience. “I was most reluctant. She was beautiful, yes, but I’d taken a vow, and there was an inherent evil about her that made my innards recoil.”

“So then you offended Mab’s pride,” Miss Evernight murmured, her tone knowing.

“That,” Adam acknowledged, “and I’d stolen from her. Those were her objects, after all. Admittedly I was an arrogant arse, not caring one whit about what I’d taken from the unnatural woman.”

Eliza’s muffled snort had him sliding her a sidelong look. She met it with a pointed raising of her brows, as if to say
Am I wrong?
No, she was not wrong to laugh. He still had his arrogance and was not likely to be losing it anytime soon.

He thought of his old self. He’d carried many titles back then, Aodh, Son of Niall of Moray, Knight of the Templars, and upon roaming Ireland,
Cù-Sìth
the harbinger of death. Yet there was one title he’d coveted was never to be his: husband. Aye, he’d killed countless men in the name of God, he’d lived the austere life of a monk, traveled from the verdant mists of Scotland to the acrid deserts surrounding Byzantium, and yet all he’d ever wanted was a wife. A family. A home.

“She held me for seven days,” he said in a low voice, recalling when Mab had taken everything from him. “Always trying to get me to submit, to want her. And on the seventh day, her patience ran out.”