Read Soulbound Online

Authors: Kristen Callihan

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Victorian, #Paranormal, #Urban, #Science Fiction, #Steampunk, #Romance, #Fantasy

Soulbound (28 page)

She could not help but laugh. “You are one twisted root.”

He laughed too. But they grew quiet as they began to ride once more.

“Will you answer me a question, dove?” Adam asked as they neared their destination.

“Of course.”

His eyes crinkled at her immediate response, but his tone remained somber. “What did the oracle tell you?” When she opened her mouth to speak, he hurried on. “If it puts you in danger to reveal anything, pray keep your council.”

She wanted to kiss him again. “The oracle saw you in possession of the horn. However, only I would know how to use it. And that…” Shy heat flushed her cheeks. “That is to say, I’d only know how to use the horn when I let you into my heart.”

Adam’s face was blank for a long moment. Then his set expression broke on an indrawn breath. He closed his eyes, and appearing almost pained, he asked her, “Have you let me in, Eliza?”

Tender emotion was a lump deep within her throat. “You are in my heart, Adam.”

Nostrils flaring, he jerked his head as if her words had struck him. When he opened his eyes, they glowed with a gold light. It bathed the area around Eliza as if the sun had come out to shine upon her. His husky promise was filled with power. “That is all that I needed to know.”

 

The moment they set foot on Mab’s front walk, Adam pulled Eliza close. Were he to listen to his heart, he’d insist she went to Lucien’s barge and wait for his return. But he knew precisely how that would go. She’d fight him come hell or high water. And he’d not chain her spirit ever again.

He had her heart. His own swelled at the thought. It made him feel immense, powerful, terrified. She owned his as well, and he was about to literally put it into her keeping. So many things could go wrong, but he had to trust in Eliza.

Taking her hand in his free one, he felt marginally better. Especially when she twined her fingers with his and gave him a squeeze. She was his now. And he hers. He’d make that perfectly clear as soon as this was over.

“It looks wrong,” said Eliza.

He knew what she meant. Like the rest of London hiding away, the house appeared abandoned. Too dark behind those mullioned windows. But he knew who would be waiting. He held Eliza more securely.

When no one answered the front door, Adam tried the handle. The door swung open, revealing Mab’s front hall, now dark and still. He spoke not a word, but gave Eliza a look.
Caution
. Her blink of understanding was all he needed.

Their steps sounded small in the cavernous silence of the house.

“If you came looking for tea,” said Mellan from behind, “I’m afraid you’ll find the staff has gone.”

Adam spun himself and Eliza around. God, but his sword hand felt too empty, and he experienced the loss of his weapon anew.

“Flown the coop, as it were,” Mellan continued as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Adam was not fooled. The fae prince was wound tight. The blond length of his hair had been bound at his temples by intricate braids. An exotic counterpoint to his suit that was cut to perfection and a dark, forest green, lacy jabot at his throat. Formal attire, as though he were in a celebratory mood.

Just as Adam suspected.

“And Mab?” Eliza asked at Adam’s side. Her fingers curled around his arm as if anchoring herself to him. He approved.

Mellan shrugged as he strolled closer. “Alas, she has left this mortal coil.” He chuckled. “And lost her fae immortality as well.”

“So then St. John destroyed her,” Adam said.

Mellan stopped short, eyes narrowing, and it was Adam’s turn to laugh. “Did you think it was a happy coincidence?” It was petty to rub it in the fae’s face, but necessary. Mellan had to attack first.

“Honestly,” Mellan finally said, “he did me a service.” He turned his attention to Eliza. “I needed to control the fae. Without my sister’s interference.”

“And now you are what?” Eliza asked. “King?”

Black fangs glimmered behind Mellan’s pale lips. “Just so.”

“Congratulations,” Adam said without feeling. “And yet I do wonder why it is that you’ve been so keen to track down Eliza.” Oh, but Adam knew. Understanding sang through his blood. It all fit, and he was about to call checkmate.

Not a flicker of emotion went through Mellan. “I had thought that Eliza and I had an understanding.”

“That I would kill Adam?” Eliza scowled. “Why not do the deed yourself, and leave me be?”

“Because,” Adam said, “he wanted my sword first. Fae-made weapons are rare, true, but my sword —”

“It was
my
sword,” snarled Mellan, his color high. “My battle sword, stollen by a foul and God-fearing human. I was not going to send you to hell before I had it back in my hands.”

“I’m afraid to report,” Adam said, “that your assassin destroyed the sword.”

Ice crackled over the floors and up the walls as Mellan inhaled with an audible breath. “For that,” he ground out, “I shall make your death an agony.”

Now, Adam thought. Fight me now.
He was not afraid of death. Not anymore. But Mellan blinked and his anger seemed to fade as he looked at Eliza. Which meant he wanted her more. Adam’s determination increased. He knew with utter certainty that what he’d planned was in the right.

“I did want you,” Mellan said to Eliza, as though his anger had never happened. “Were I to marry Mab’s granddaughter, I’d have a stronger claim to take over the throne.”

Adam did not believe it for one second. “And the Horn an Bás?”

Mellan’s expression turned peevish. “A myth I used to distract Mab.”

“As I thought,” Adam lied. Oh, he had thought that before, but now he knew better. At Adam’s side, Eliza stood, warm and trusting. He wanted nothing more than to draw her nearer and hold her tight.
God keep
her,
make her strong when he couldn’t hold her.

Mellan watched them with a hawkish fervor, his gaze darting between them. “It appears that Mab’s curse upon you has ended as well, Aodh.”

Adam found he hated that name; it felt as though it belonged to the fae, to that time when he’d been young and foolish. “I am Adam, King of the GIM,” he said. “And yes, I have my power. Pray, do not test me, Mellan.”
Test, me
, he thought.
Challenge me, you wily bastard.

“I would not dream of it,” Mellan drawled, yet there was satisfaction in his eyes.

“Then I’ll have your word that you’ll leave Eliza alone from now on.”

Eliza tensed, and Mellan froze. It seemed the fae would snarl and lash out, but he held still. Adam did as well, ready to fight this man with the one thing he had left: his life. For Eliza.

Mellan broke the tense silence. “Mab is out of my way. Thus I no longer need you, Eliza.” Mellan looked her over, his gaze roving. “Though I am not averse to keeping you as my concubine.”

Eliza’s face twisted in disgust. “You do realize how very disturbed that is. You are my granduncle.”

Mellan gave a negligent shrug. “My sister birthed some brat decades ago, and you are the final result. What does it matter to me? I am not human, nor bound to their customs. In truth, were I to get you with child, our combined blood would only serve to strengthen the child.”

Fucking bloody fucking bastard. Adam’s only wish was to see the fae king die. But understanding lit through him; while Adam was trying to bait Mellan into a fight, Mellan was trying to bait Eliza.

Eliza’s expression iced over as she spoke to Mellan. “Let me say that, at this moment, I’m not averse to gelding you.”

Adam could not help it, he laughed, glancing down at his beloved. That mouth of hers, always quick to say the most cutting thing, and he loved it. He loved
her
, Eliza May of the tart tongue and sweet lips. He almost said it there and then. Except he heard Mellan snarl, saw him move out of the corner of his eye. Too soon, and attacking the wrong person.

The world around him did not slow down, but sped up. Mellan’s clawed-tipped hand shot out, terror ran down Adam’s middle, and Eliza froze. He did not have time to shout, to push her out of Mellan’s path. Adam threw himself forward, into Mellan’s lashing hand, protecting Eliza with the only thing he had. His body.

He knew it instinctively, knew that this was it, that he would die.
Let her be strong.
And all of it happened in a second.

The impact shook him to the core, pushing the air from his lungs. Adam curled into it, his sight going hazy, as agony exploded over his chest. His body arched back as something tugged at him.

Eliza’s scream came as if from a great distance, a buzzing, indistinct sound, drowned out by a huge whoosh of white pain. He could not move. Numb, he glanced down.

His chest was a gaping cavern of blood and gore. Odd. Had he… Mellan grinned at him, his pale face splattered with little crimson dots. He held out his hand to Adam as though offering him something. Adam could not focus on it.

Cold. He was too cold. He could not feel his legs. Was he falling?

The floor greeted him with a jarring smack. Grief clamped the sides of his head with hard hands. Or was that Eliza? Was she speaking? She made an awful racket, and his head hurt.
Be strong
,
love
. Win this.
Mellan still grinned. Holding out his hand. Something in that hand. A throbbing dark mass, dripping with blood.

Oh.

It was his heart.

J
ack Talent was not in the habit of retiring to bed early. Unless it was to tumble about in it with his wife. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on a nearby chair. No, he had no desire to lie about in bed at – he glanced at the ornate clock on the mantle – four in the afternoon. But his wife was tired, so he would keep her company.

A heavy fear weighed down his heart. Mary was often tired now. Sleeping more than she was awake. Weakening. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed the back of his neck. Would she soon be like Daisy? Vacant and motionless upon her bed?

For a moment, the fear threatened to rip out of him. He reined it in. For her, he did this. He had to remain strong for her. Jack stared into the fire, watching the flames dance and crackle and he tried not to cry like a lad.

Ian was already lost to fear, snarling at anyone who came near Daisy, and growing weak from lack of sleep and food. Jack worried that his foster father might soon lose control of his inner wolf. And a mad lycan was a danger to all. It would destroy Jack’s soul if he had to kill Ian in order to protect the people of London.

“Christ.” He sat heavily upon the edge of the bed and held his head in his hands.

He could hear Mary puttering around her dressing room, washing her face and brushing her hair. He rose to join her, perhaps help her out of her gown and make love to her nice and slow, when the floor shook. Hard. A silent boom seemed to rush through the air, making Jack stumble. An earthquake? He’d never experienced one, but it was the first thought that came to mind. Only the air had felt ice cold.

And then he heard Ian’s roar, filled with utter terror. Jack moved to go to him, but then halted. Mary. Secure Mary. On unsteady limbs, he rushed to the dressing room, his heart pounding and his father’s screams ringing in his ear.

Wrenching the dressing room door open, he skidded to a halt. “Mary!”

She lay in a tangle of limbs, her eyes open and staring. Jack was at her side in an instant. “Mary.”

God. God. He’d seen her like this once before. When she’d died for him. Terrified, he pressed his head to her breast, frantic to hear the steady churn of her clockwork heart. But only found silence. Jack’s breath came out in hard gasps. His eyes burning and his mind frozen in fear. And then the second blast came, a great boom of noise that shattered all the windows.

Jack didn’t look up, but held his wife close, and wept.

 

Eliza could not recollect what played out before her. She saw it unfold but it could not be true. It could
not
. Yet it was.

Adam toppled to the floor, his chest ripped open. And his heart. That powerful organ that held his life’s blood. It was in Mellan’s hand. He’d pulled it from Adam’s chest.

Eliza snapped out of her terror. “Adam!”

She fell to his side, scrambling to hold him. What to do? What could she do?

His mouth hung open as if in surprise. A fine sheen of sweat covered his greying skin.

“Adam.” With frantic hands she touched him, stroking, begging with all that she had that this was a nightmare. “Love. Adam.”

What to do?
 

His eyes, once brilliant and golden and filled with eternal life, grew dull. Frantic, she cupped his cheek, the skin slack there, and peered into his eyes. “Adam.” There was nothing else to say. He couldn’t even focus on her. Because he was dead.

Eliza remained hunched over his form, her body locked tight in horrified shock.

And then Mellan laughed. “That was far easier than expected.”

Though her fingers felt like ice, a fine, fierce heat began to coil within her. Slowly, carefully, she eased Adam’s shoulders off her lap and placed him on the floor. Mellan watched her with amusement. “His curse broken and still he hadn’t claimed you as his soul mate. For here you stand, and there he lays.”

The rage grew, pumping like a bellows, filling her up.

Mellan continued on, not realizing the danger. “There is no one left to you, Eliza. Save me. The only one who knows of what you are capable. The only one to teach you how to use your talents.”

On strong limbs she rose. And the air about her seemed to crackle and spark. Bastard. Eliza sneered, showing her teeth.

“I will control you, Eliza May. And thus control death. Oh, the possibilities —”

A screech flew from her lips, louder than anything she’d ever heard. With the force of a locomotive, it rushed from her. Endless screaming. Mellan blanched, his skin sinking and cleaving to his bones as he stood rooted to the spot.

Eliza’s scream grew in volume. In strength. Windows shattered, Mab’s fine crystal chandelier crashing to the ground. And it was power. A rush surged through Eliza’s body and outward. She lifted her hand, her pale fingers stained scarlet with Adam’s blood. The sight gave her direction. Mellan’s mouth worked on a wordless cry as she came for him, wrapping her fingers around his throat and lifting him high.

And the endless scream took on a life, swirling about him with black fingers that invaded his mouth. His body arched, thrashing within Eliza’s grip. She did not let go but squeezed tightly, her mouth stretched open with the terrible screech of her rage. Then the black fingers yanked the soul of Mellan out of his body.

And Eliza let the lifeless body drop. All at once, her scream died.

She stood, swaying, her body weak and her heart broken. At her feet Adam lay. The sight of his empty eyes brought her to her knees. And then all went black.

 

Eliza woke with a gasp. She hurt. Everywhere. But it was her heart that felt broken and bleeding, as though she’d swallowed shards of glass and they’d collected in that tight space. A sense of horrible, black dread consumed her, and she stared up at the ceiling, her gaze stuck on a tattered cobweb dangling from one plaster rosette. What place was this?

And then she realized that she was not alone. The slight warmth of a body came from the right of her. And on her left? Coldness. Dread. A sob, unbidden, wracked her aching chest.

“Eliza?” It was a soft, feminine whisper. And Eliza jerked, wrenching her head toward the sound.

Holly Evernight knelt next to her with an expression of abject sorrow. Just over her shoulder hovered Will Thorne. His black eyes were threaded with strands of silver, and as he stared down at her, the silver grew stronger. He looked as if he might weep for her.

And then it all came back to her.

A wail tore up her throat, thrusting her upright with its power. The cold weight by her side jostled, and she turned, feeling her entire soul shrivel with utter grief. Adam.

He lay, bone white, dull eyes staring into nothingness, a gaping hole in his chest.

“Eliza.” A hand settled on her shoulder. Holly.

“He’s gone,” Eliza said unnecessarily. She wanted to cry, hot tears of pain. And yet her eyes remained dry. This one time in her life and she couldn’t shed a damn tear.

“I’m so sorry, Miss May,” said Thorne, and when she began to shudder with dry sobs, he eased around Holly and embraced her, holding her head against his shoulder. Eliza did not really know this man, his scent was unfamiliar and not the one she craved, but he was warm and offering a sorely needed comfort. She let him hold her as she shook. So very cold.

Holly looked on in concern, holding Eliza’s icy hand in her own. “Who did this?”

There was a strange urgency to her question, one that went beyond Adam.

Eliza squeezed her eyes shut. “Mellan. The fae… Well, I suppose he’d been king for a day.” An unhinged laugh escaped her before she took another breath. “Adam… he was trying to protect me. And now…” She pressed the heel of her hand against her brow. “At least Mellan is no more.”

She pointed in the direction of the human-shaped mess of loamy ash that had once been Mellan’s body.

“Christ,” muttered Thorne, his hand tightening on the back of her head. She felt him turn slightly and knew he was looking at Holly.

Eliza eased herself back and took in their twin expressions of fear and grief. “It is good of you to care for me. But neither of you has any cause to grieve…” She could not say his name, but forced herself to go on. “There is more, isn’t there?”

Thorne sat back on his haunches. “The GIM, all of them, have collapsed. London is in an uproar. First the blood rain, and now this. Humans are thinking it is the end of days. And the rest of us…” Thorne ducked his head.

Holly’s dark blue eyes filled. “They are dead, Eliza. Or give every appearance of being so.”

Eliza’s body went hollow. Not only Adam. But Lucien. Mary and Daisy, who had saved her. Kind Mr. Brown, who had harbored Adam and her. All of them. Adam’s children.

“He dies,” Eliza whispered. “They all die.”

A terrible stillness settled over the room. “I fear it is so,” said Holly after a moment.

Eliza pressed the heels of her hands over her aching eyes. She could not bring herself to look down again. To acknowledge that he was gone. And her soul was torn in half. Yes, he was her other half. She knew that implicitly now. He was gone, leaving behind a terrible sense of wrongness within her.

She felt Thorne stir, heard the shushing of fabric. From the corner of her eye, she saw him move to cover Adam with his coat.

“No!” Eliza rose to her knees, pushing him away, and curling herself over Adam’s cold body. His life’s blood, now sticky and thick upon the floor, seeped through her clothes. “Do not touch him.”

Silence.

“Miss May —”

Holly hushed Thorne with a small sound. When she spoke, her voice was even and low. “Eliza, I know this pain. I know you do not want to let him go.” She swallowed audibly. “But let us take him to a better place. Not here.”

No, not left disgraced upon the floor. With the stiffness of an old woman, Eliza moved away from Adam’s body. She didn’t look down. He wasn’t there at any rate. Not the soul that lit him up. A steady burn grew behind her eyes and prickled at the bridge of her nose.

“Will you…” Her breath hitched. “Will you help me take him to Lucien’s barge?” Eliza did not know where else to go. And Adam had loved Lucien as a father to a son.

Holly’s voice came as though through a fog. “Anything, dearest.”

Eliza stood. She would take care of Adam. And then she did not know. The endless possibilities of life had simply stopped.

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