Soulbound (30 page)

“Out with it, Lucien,” Adam drawled, not bothering to look up.

Lucien glanced at Eliza, and his mouth tightened. With deliberation, he set his wine glass down and braced his forearms upon the table. “All right then,
mon ami
. We need to discuss what has happened.”

Adam arched a brow. “What of it?” There was a hint of belligerence in his tone that Eliza did not understand.

But Lucien clearly did for his expression softened. “Do you remember where you went when you died?”

Adam’s lush mouth tightened a fraction. “Darkness. That is all. Just darkness.”

“As did I,” admitted Lucien. “And the others. I have spoken with Daisy, and a few more. They all say the same. Darkness.” Lucien’s lacy sleeves rippled as he leaned in farther, his voice growing deeper. “It was true death. Not a simple leaving of our bodies. We
died
,
mon
capitaine
. You. I. The whole of us.”

“I am aware, Lucien.” Adam resolutely did not look Eliza’s way.

Eliza was unable to keep quiet any longer. “What is it that you are implying?”

Lucien’s eyes held regret yet resolve. “From what my sire has told me” – at this he gave a pointed look at Adam – “he is soulbound to death. To the GIM, to be precise. Whatever is between the two of you does not negate that.”

Adam’s lips pressed together. “You cannot be certain —”

“Oh no? And what is it, then, that occurred this day? Merdé, but you cannot be stubborn on this.” Lucien’s fist pressed against the heavy wooden table. “If you do not take back control, continue as you have been all these years, the GIM will die out.”

Eliza felt Lucien’s words like a punch.

“I gather,” Eliza said to Adam, “that you did not think about your connection with the GIM when you let Mellan rip your heart out.”

Adam shot her a glare, but it faded fast. “No,” he admitted through his teeth. “I did not then realize that the GIM were bound to me so completely. If anything, I believed that my physical death would set them free.” With a sigh, he leaned his head back against the chair. “I erred in judgment.”

“Very well,” she said. “So you must take control over the GIM once more. Why is this a problem?”

Adam’s scowl was dark, but it was Lucien who answered.

“Because he wants an ordinary life. To live it with —”

“Enough.” Adam’s order rang loud and deep over them.

When Lucien merely looked at Adam as though daring him to deny a word, Adam’s broad chest lifted on a sigh. “It isn’t so simple, dove. As king of the GIM, I cannot solely live here. I must reside There.”

“Here.” Lucien gestured towards the window and the lights of London, glimmering off the waters of the Thames. “There, being an alternate reality where spirits, angels, and some primus demons dwell. And then Nowhere.” A hint of a smile touched his lips. “That place that your culture would call Hell.”

Adam nodded without enthusiasm. “In truth, the time I spent with you” – he grimaced – “when I’d chained you to me, was the longest I’d spent on this plane.”

“But why?” Eliza would not allow the panic to creep farther up her back. She’d forge ahead, solve the problem. “Why must you live There?”

“My power regenerates There. And I don’t merely create GIM. I collect souls. Of those who refuse to pass on to…” He hesitated then, his dark brows knitting.

“To wherever it is that those who truly die go,” Lucien finished for him. “It is hard for Adam to explain because none of us, not even the angels, truly know where that is.” The thoughtful expression did not leave him as he reached out and refilled their three glasses of wine. “What Adam forgot, I suspect in his joy of being free from Mab, is that by being soulbound to the reluctant dead, he draws them in. If he is here, so shall they be. In far too great a number.”

Eliza’s fingers curled tight, lest she reach out for him, demand that he stay precisely where he was. She’d never felt more alone. Blinking rapidly before tears could flow, Eliza turned away, running a finger along the carved rosette on the arm of her chair. She didn’t believe in soul mates or fate. Adam was clearly never meant to be hers. Why then did she feel so… defeated? Lost.

“So then,” she said slowly, the words fighting past the lump of emotion in her throat. “So wherever you are, so shall the dead be.”

Adam gave her a black look, his golden eyes glowing with fierce light then abruptly dulling. “Always.”

S
he found Adam in Lucien’s dining hall. He sat alone upon the ornate ebony and pearl chair. She walked farther into the room, her heels echoing in the silence.

“I picked this chair up in China. Brought it as a gift to Lucien after he became my eyes and ears for London.” Adam’s voice was low with melancholy, and the fine curve of his mouth curled. “He fancies it his throne now.”

“And yet he wants you to sit in it.” Eliza’s throat hurt when she spoke. Everything hurt within her.

He stilled, the blunt tip of his finger poised above a pearl star. Golden eyes, now glowing once more with power, met hers. In them, she saw her own sorrow and need. “And so here I sit,” he said.

Her limbs ached as she went to him. And he watched her, his big warrior’s body unmoving but tense. Eliza stopped just before the arm of his chair, close enough to feel the heat of his body, close enough to touch. “You are their king once more.”

Adam didn’t reply. His expression was hard, his thick brows knitting over his strong nose. The scowl he wore grew, his nostrils flaring, and then he hooked his arm about her middle, hauling her in front of him. Before she could breathe, he pressed his forehead against her ribs. “Eliza.” Such pain in his voice. He gripped her skirts, his breath heating the fabric of her bodice, but said no more. Eliza’s fingers threaded through the silk of his black hair, and he sighed.

What was there to say? Their time together was at an end. “You’ll be leaving soon?” Her question came out garbled and rough.

Adam burrowed in closer. “Yes.” Did he want to stay? It did not matter; the GIM needed him, and they both knew as much. Eliza looked towards the windows, thick, green bottle glass windows that let in light but no view. The back of her throat prickled.
Ask me to go with you.

She almost said it aloud. But she couldn’t. Everything had been thrown off kilter. And he no longer needed her. Perhaps he never truly had.

Eliza moved, intending to back away, when Adam lifted his head. The look in his eyes took her breath, and she tensed with sweet pain. He watched her as though he’d devour her bite by bite, taking his time, making her feel it.

Neither of them spoke. His gaze trailed down her throat and honed in on her breasts. Those strong hands grasped the edges of her sleeves, pulling the fabric painfully tight against her flesh. Her breasts swelled against the constriction, and then he yanked. The bodice tore like paper, the sound sharp. And she bobbled forward, braced up only by his hands upon her corset. His angry scowl stayed set as he made short work of her undergarments, shredding them with nary a flinch.

“I see you’ve regained all your strength,” she murmured, a low and steady throb building at the sight of her unbound breasts bare before his gaze.

He didn’t answer, but merely slid his hand up her ribs, trailing a fine heat in its wake, until he cupped her breast with firm fingers. He held her where he wanted her, his grip possessive, and then he leaned forward and licked her. Eliza whimpered as the warm flat of his tongue dragged over her nipple. Dear God. The way he tasted her. Melting heat spread over her heavy breasts, licked between her thighs. Her knees grew weak, but he had her, one hand gripping her waist, the other holding her breast captive.

His lids lowered, a small sound of need escaping him as he drew her nipple into his mouth to gently suckle it. So gently, a counterpoint to the firm way he touched her.

“Adam.” She cupped his head and held him close.

With a muffled sound, he wrapped his arm about her waist and brought her down upon his lap, as he kissed his way up her neck. Soft lips and warm breath. He found her earlobe and nipped it, even as his strong hands drew her tattered skirts over her knees.

His fingers traced the soft curve of her thigh, raking over tender flesh. Such a hard touch with his warrior’s hands. Hard touch, gentle mouth. Eliza wiggled closer, needing him too. She pulled at his shirt, desperate to get at the solid heat of his chest. His skin was tight satin, and touching him did nothing to satisfy her hunger. It merely made her want him more. She wanted to touch him endlessly, taste him, fuse her flesh with his. Anything to ease this agitation. This want. Something near a growl rose up within her as she reached between them and freed his cock, wrapping her fingers around its hardness and giving it a firm tug.

Adam hissed, his hips canting. Just as frenzied, his mouth moved over her, biting kisses, licks of his tongue. His wide chest rose and fell with each breath. She pressed against it, antagonizing the throbbing ache in her breasts. Adam grunted, his big hands finding her bottom. With an impatient noise, he hauled her against his cock. They both shuddered. Stilled a little.

His mouth was at her ear, his breath a pant, as he slowly lifted her, sliding her wetness over his length. Adam trembled, his massive thighs tensing. “Take me into you, dove.”

Eliza’s head fell to his shoulder, lust making her boneless. Hand wrapped around the root of his cock, she lifted a little, guiding him to her entrance and biting her lip as the thick, round crown pushed into her. A broken, weak cry left her.

And then he gave her no mercy but ploughed into her. There was no more thinking. Just mindless want as he worked into her, his hands upon her arse. She found his lips. Their kiss was messy, an uncoordinated meeting of lips and tongues.

“Adam,” she said into his mouth. “Please. Please.” She didn’t know what she was asking for, only that she needed more. It couldn’t stop, this feeling. It couldn’t end. Fear that it would rode her hard. She twined her arm about his neck, desperate to get closer still.

And he held her secure, one hand holding the tumbled-down hair at her nape, the other clasped on her bottom. But he suddenly slowed, his movements becoming more steady, yet no less intense. And she quaked, her eyes closing, her forehead pressed to his sweaty cheek.

“Look at me,” he rasped. “Look at me.”

He cupped her chin, bringing her head up, holding her there. Golden eyes glowed with the power of the GIM. His power. It took her breath. His expression was near pain and filled with a tenderness that battered her heart. “There will never be another, Eliza.” His cock moved within her, slow, steady, deep. Her eyes fluttered, but he held her tightly, not letting her break eye contact. “Do you hear me? You are my first” – he thrust – “my last” – he kissed her jaw – “my forever.”

She kissed him, her lips barely brushing his, her tongue lightly licking along the edge of his mouth as they shared a breath. “Yes, Adam.” She suckled his bottom lip. “Yes.”

He swallowed audibly, his big body trembling, his movements becoming disjointed once more. “Eliza.”

He sounded broken.

And so she kissed him again as she clenched her inner walls, clamping down tight on him. “Come home, Adam. Come home to me.”

She hardly knew what she was saying, only that she would be his home if he’d let her. But he understood. On a loud groan, he thrust into her, the tip of his thumb finding her sex and worrying it as he pumped. That touch, and the feel of his open mouth against the sensitive skin of her neck, sent her spiraling. Cool heat pushed through her, and Eliza tensed with a whimper of pleasure.

He held back no longer. Shouting his release, he bucked into her, frantic, violent. Until he finished, his hips grinding into hers, his body rock hard. And then he collapsed back against the chair, taking her with him.

Shaking, she clung to him, her breasts crushed against his damp chest. Despite the way he panted, sweat slicking his skin, he was solid, eternal in his strength. His wide palm, roughened by calluses, explored her back with long strokes. He held her as if he’d never let her go.

And yet she could feel him mentally drawing away. All those pretty words, and she knew he wasn’t making promises. But saying good-bye.

Eliza’s fingers dug into the hard curves of his shoulders. “Ask me to go with you. Ask me to be yours.”

She hadn’t meant to say it. And yet she wanted it with her entire soul.

He froze, the corded muscles of his arms clenching tight, and his palm stilled. Gods, but she could feel the tension gathering within him, making her insides seize. Tears burned in her eyes even before he spoke. And when he did, his voice held the finality of death. “No.”

Eliza left him. Adam did not blame her in the least. He’d been a cruel bastard. He’d turned her away. And ripped out his own heart in the process. Alone, he sat in the chair he’d made love to her in. Echoes of what they’d done, of her passion, the ripe warm feel of her body, haunted him. He ached for her. In a way he’d never thought existed. All these centuries, he believed loving a woman would be the making of him. How wrong he’d been.

He wanted to die. He, the king of death. Adam snorted, and it came out as a pathetic dark sob.

“I see we are not our best at the moment.”

Lucien’s voice had him jumping within his skin. Adam winced at the sight of him, resplendent in cobalt blue and sunshine yellow.

“Christ, you look a parrot.”

Lucien lifted an elegant brow before running a hand down his satin coat. “Admit it,
mon
ami
, you’ve always been jealous of my plumage.”

“Oh, aye,” Adam drawled. “I’d look a treat kitted out like a pretty dandy.”

“That you would,” Lucien murmured, eyeing him with frank appreciation. A rare show of his true appetites and one designed to discomfort Adam. It didn’t, but Lucien’s constant needling did.

Scowling, Adam shifted in his seat. “I’m in no mood to spar with you today, Lucien. Tell me what you want and go.”

“Ah,” said Lucien lightly, “but of course, you’d rather sit here and wallow in misplaced pride.”

A haze of blackness rushed over Adam’s vision. “You think this is about my pride?” His shout reverberated throughout the room. “Smarmy arse! I’ve no pride left when it comes to her.” Adam’s fists pushed against the table until it groaned in protest. “It is about my children, my GIM. It is about
you
, Lucien. You and every one of my GIM will die if I do not return to what I was, as you so kindly pointed out last night. So do not presume to come and lecture me now!”

Lucien’s pale green eyes remained pallid. “So then, you shall sacrifice your love for the greater good, is that it? Most noble of you,
mon
capitaine.
”

Adam’s teeth met. “My patience wears thin, imp.”

Lucien’s soft chuckle rumbled. “I have that effect.” He shrugged, the cascade of lace at his throat sliding over his cobalt waistcoat. “So make her your queen. Bring her with you.”

“Jesus.” Adam raked his fingers along his aching skull. It was either that or punch his old friend in the throat. “Have you gone completely daft, Lucien? Or has love addled your brain as well?”

Lucien went milk white, his fine nostrils flaring on a sharp breath as his irises began to glow with green light.

“Oh aye,” Adam went on, wanting to hurt. “You think I don’t know. You talk of making difficult decisions as though it were so very easy. When you turn your back on the sacrifices you must make for your own happiness.”

“We are not discussing me,” Lucien shot back, his usually smooth voice a near roar. Red faced, he pounded his walking stick into the wooden floor of the barge. “And my dilemma is nothing like yours. She loves you. And you her.”

“You know damn well that if Eliza were to come with me, she’d have to
die
.” The very thought was a spear through his heart. “Death, Lucien, when she’s fought to live for so long.”

And they both knew Adam could not even make her a GIM. She was too much fae, the one creature who could never be turned. And she was his soul mate.

“She loves you.” Lucien’s voice was a ghost. “That means… everything.”

Guilt and shame punched into Adam. Lucien sounded as torn as he.

“I struck low and dishonorably,” Adam said. “Forgive me.”

Lucien gave him a short nod. “And I pushed you hard. But it is done out of my love for you.” He leaned in, his expression earnest. “Can you not see? All is not lost if she were to —”

“She’d be stuck There. And I…” His voice left him for a humiliating moment. “I’ll not see her fade away, lost to life, solely because of me.” Adam blinked down at the rough, worn edges of Lucien’s table. “I’m giving her up. Because I love her.”

The distant clank of a ship’s bell drifted over the room, and Lucien sighed, as he moved to the sideboard and poured them both a glass of claret. Adam accepted it with a numb hand and then drank it down in one gulp. He’d have preferred whisky, but suspected Lucien was still cross enough with him not to have offered it.

Lucien sat across from him and took a sip of wine.

“You want to know the worst of it?” Adam murmured.

“Oh, there’s more?”

Adam glared but then his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m tempted to choose her.” So very badly.

“It shames you that you’d prefer love and happiness over holding up the lives of thousands.” Lucien shrugged again. “And here I thought this is what makes you so very human. For once.”