Soulbound (15 page)

“I don’t understand,” Eliza said. “These beings are real. They’re stronger than humans, capable of killing them, yet you say humans created them and feed their powers.”

“Yes. Human thoughts and beliefs took on a consciousness and corporeal bodies. They are entirely their own creatures now. But they still feed off of the power of human belief. This is why so many supernaturals want to expose themselves to human society. They are of the opinion that humans, once realizing the truth, will give them a surge of power because their belief will be absolute.”

“Well, won’t it?”

“No,” said Adam, his deep voice so resonant it seemed to tickle her skin. “Because there is the power of disbelief as well. Humans have a great capacity for disbelief. We’ll tell ourselves that what we see isn’t real. Now more than ever, when science and reason hold greater sway than myth and faith. To come out into the open would be catastrophic. Humans would either explain the Others away, fight them to the death, or shut down mentally. Likely a little of all. The result will be the weakening and needless deaths of countless supernaturals.”

Eliza grew up in the aftermath of a great war. She knew quite well the toll it took on a society. “And Mab wants exposure?”

Adam turned his attention on Michaels. “Mab knows the power humans have over her kind. Thus she both fears and hates them. However, she’s cunning enough to know that she’s better off feeding the myth of herself than destroying it. What she wants is power over supernaturals, not humans.”

“Aye.” Michaels sat back. “But the trick is finding something stronger than immortality.”

A dark smile curved Adam’s lips. “Don’t you know what that is?”

Eliza didn’t but she rather thought they both did, given the way Michaels smiled too.

“Pray, end my suspense,” she clipped out.

Michaels answered first. “Death. That which is already dead cannot be defeated.”

Adam crossed one leg over the other. “As I am certain this information will be circulated all through London’s underworld soon enough, here are the facts. For the past six months, Mab has tortured me, first for the fun of it, but recently to discover the location of the Golden Horn an Bás, which I supposedly took hundreds of years ago while pillaging Ireland.” Adam waved an idle hand. “Rot, all of it. But if Mab wants it, then so do I.”

“So then, you want to find its true location before Mab can?” Michaels shook his head. “You know finding lost items is beyond my talents.”

Adam regarded him for a quiet moment, then spoke, his voice low and serious. “Sean, I am asking this as a friend.”

Michaels’s ruddy skin flushed. He glanced at Eliza. “He saved my life once, you know.”

“Are you GIM?”

“Never got that far. He stopped a killer’s knife before it slid into my gut.”

Adam shrugged. “There are times when I liked to roam as a normal man. And murder has never set well with me.”

Michaels laughed. “Right then. I’m still beholden to you, and I’ll do what I can. Finish your tea, the both of you, and we’ll see what we can see.”

They did as told, and Michaels collected their cups. Peering into Adam’s cup, he studied the dregs. “You’ll not be liking this, old man.”

“That surprises me very little.” Adam leaned forward. “Out with it.”

“You’ve no future.”

“What?” Eliza burst out.

“His future is naught but a muddle. I cannot see anything more than a vague sense of him possessing the horn. But… even that appears wrong and off.” Michaels took Eliza’s cup. “Let’s see yours.”

Instantly, his pleasant face smoothed out. He glanced between Adam and Eliza, his expression wary. “I’ll need to be speaking to Miss May alone.”

“Absolutely not,” Adam spit out, his chains rattling as his hands clenched.

“Why?” Eliza asked just as quickly.

Adam growled at her, but she gave him a quelling look.

Michaels ran a hand through his ruddy hair. “If I tell you both, it might alter the course, and believe me, friend,” he said to Adam, “you do not want that to happen.”

Abruptly, Adam stood, his jaw bunched, his teeth bared. “If you seek to play me false —”

“It’s no trick, Adam.” Michaels appeared tired just then. “I swear it on my mam’s grave.”

They stared at each other for an endless moment, and then Adam nodded abruptly. He turned and pinned Eliza with a look. “That goes for you as well, Miss May. Try to cross me and —”

“It would behoove you not to threaten me,
dearest.
Such behavior does not prompt accord.”

Oh, but she could see him swallowing down a snide retort. “How kind of you to remind me,
sweets
,” he ground out. With a last warning look all around, Adam moved to go, but then stopped and bent close to her. His hot breath fanned her skin, drawing up little prickles of sensation. She thought he might threaten her, or complain further, but he did nothing of the sort. His soft lips pressed gently to the hollow below her ear.

With that, he was gone in an irate clatter of chains and general male huffing.

Eliza found Michaels grinning.

“Oh, do have a laugh at my expense, Mr. Michaels. When I’ll be the one forced to live with his temper.”

At that, Michaels cleared his throat. “Right.” He scootched closer, holding her teacup. “Here’s the thing. I see Adam in possession of the horn, but only you, Miss May, appear to be able to use it.”

“Odd.” She peered into the cup, seeing nothing more than a jumbled mess of wet tea leaves.

“Yes,” Michaels agreed. “Odder still, you’ll only know how to use the horn when you let Adam into your heart.”

Eliza reared back at this. “Is this some trick?” Her heart pounded. Eliza didn’t hold it past Adam to use this oracle for something so low. She knew how ruthless he could be, damn his golden eyes.

“A trick,” Michaels parroted.

“Yes, a way to get me to… accept him,” she hissed.

Michaels laughed shortly. “I do not know what goes on between you two, but I assure you that it is no trick on my part.”

“But why do I need him to use the horn?”

“I do not know. An oracle can state what might occur if one follows a certain path, but not why one must behave as one ought.”

“Rather irritating that,” Eliza groused.

His blue eyes took on a soft light. “I’ve heard as much. And you’re wise to keep your trust close at heart, Miss May. Lies make our world go round.”

“Then why,” she said, “should I trust you?”

“So don’t, then.” Michaels set the cup onto his desk and slouched back in his chair as though he hadn’t a care. “But I’d advise that you not tell Adam of my reading. Because there is one truth on which I think we can agree. If that demon wants to claim you, he’ll do anything in his power to achieve it.”

Sin had turned hiding into an art form. Which saved his sorry hide more than once. Of course, all the household had taken to hiding when Eliza had flown the coop with Adam. Mab’s once-fine house now lay in chaotic shambles, torn apart by the mistress’s own hands. With the temper of a recalcitrant child, she’d lashed out, screaming her displeasure.

Now, as Mab met with Mellan in the parlor, Sin hid behind the plethora of enormous potted palms and ferns that turned the room into a veritable greenhouse, and listened in.

“How difficult is it to find two weak and powerless humans who have run away from me?” Her screech had the delicate teardrop crystals in the wall sconces tinkling.

From his lazy sprawl upon a green velvet chair, Mellan gave her an annoyed look. “Weakened Aodh might be, but he is hardly powerless. Nor are they mere humans. You keep forgetting this.”

Mab tossed a length of scarlet hair over her shoulder. “They are as pathetically mundane as any human, Mellanhov.”

“And yet they elude you, Mabella.” Mellan grinned with evil glee when she snarled, baring her little black fangs at him.

“I want every GIM in London cut down until Aodh gives himself up. Slaughter them all, the unnatural creatures.”

Sin ground his back teeth and willed himself to remain frozen. If he moved the slightest muscle, he would be detected.

“The lycan king’s mate is a GIM,” Mellan said idly. “So his subjects stand with the GIM. It would be unwise to make further enemies with the lycans.”

Mab flopped down into a chair. “Their numbers are few.”

“But fierce.”

She shot Mellan a glare. “Are you attempting to irritate me?”

“Merely guiding your wayward thoughts back to solid ground.” Mellan’s thin lips curled. “Irritating you in the process is not without its enjoyment.” His smile fell. “You’ve always been too possessive of the knight. Aodh is a lost cause, pet. He’ll never be yours.”

It seemed the very air stilled, then grew so humid that the walls beaded with condensation. Around Sin, the plants began to grow, leaves coiling and crackling as they wound around his face and slithered over their pots. Mab’s pretty human countenance fell away, her fangs growing long and her eyes flashing purple. Mellan simply looked back at her.

For a moment, Sin thought Mab’s temper would explode. But then she gave Mellan a syrup-sweet smile. “And you believe Eliza will be yours, do you?”

“You think I have a care if she doesn’t want me?” He laughed, dark and slow. “It matters not if she ran off with Aodh. I shall track her down. It is but an eventuality.”

“Mmm…” Mab examined her black fingernails, her mouth in a saucy tilt. “And then what? You claim her as your bride and our kingdom is secure?”

Mellan’s eyes narrowed. “As you well know.” It was clear that Mellan knew she was baiting him. And just as clear that he’d let her. To a point. His utter lack of fear intrigued Sin. Everyone feared Mab.

Mab lifted one red brow. “A rather difficult task,” she said silkily, “given that she and Aodh are now handfasted.”

While Mab’s displeasure had heated the air, Mellan’s had a decidedly different effect. It froze. With the force of a blizzard, icy air swept through the room, cracking mirrors and destroying the plants in an instant. Had Sin not been an elemental capable of frost, he’d have died.

Slowly Mellan stood, his skin pale blue, his hair turning snow white. Ice gathered around Mellan’s temples and over his brow, forming a crown.

Hell, Sin thought, as shock speared through him. Bloody hell.

From her seat, Mab’s eyes went wide, her lips parting as if to take back her words. Sin had never seen her afraid.

“Repeat yourself, Mabella,” Mellan said in a terrible voice, so deep it vibrated throughout the room.

Mab pulled an object from her skirt pocket. It was a rag, bloody and tied in a Celtic love knot. “This was found in Aodh’s cell. It is Aodh’s blood. I can smell it. There can be no doubt that Aodh has handfasted to the girl.”

Mellan’s roar shook the house.

“Who is laughing now, Mellan —” Mab’s words were cut short from the force of Mellan’s blow.

“Stupid cow. You know nothing.”

“It does not matter if the girl joins with Aodh. He has already ceded his powers to me. He’s lost.”

“As it is, I cannot wed her if she’s handfasted to Aodh. Our laws forbid it, as you damn well ought to know.”

Her eyes slid away. And Sin understood at the precise moment that Mellan did. Mellan shouted his rage, shaking Mab as though she were a porcelain doll. “You want to kill her! Foolish chit. Always letting your lust blind you. The girl means everything.”

“He is the one with potential,” Mab shot back. “She is just a balm to his ego. And yours, apparently, oh great Unseelie Prince.”

With the flick of his wrist, Mellan flung Mab across the room. The rosewood secretary exploded as she slammed into it.

“Idiot! If they truly bond, you’ll not be able to kill one without destroying the other. Two millennium I’ve waited to find the means to control death, and thanks to my sister’s base needs and vanity, it is in danger of slipping past me once again.”

B
y the time Miss Eliza May exited Michaels’s office, Adam was ready to smash his fist through a wall. It did not help that Eliza merely gave him a pleasant smile and announced that she was ready to depart.

He tromped through the press office and led them outside. For a while, they walked in tense silence. He hated silence between them. Hated it almost as much as being left in the dark where she was concerned. Adam could hold his tongue no longer.

“Tell me what the oracle said.” Adam was reasonably certain the words sounded like a request instead of a plea. He’d be bolloxed if he ever pled for another thing in his life. Especially from her.

Eliza fussed with her wrapper, drawing it farther around her slim shoulders. The rain had stopped, and she’d hooked the handle of her umbrella over her forearm.

“Well?” he snapped out.

She was acting as she’d done when he’d chained her those many months ago, settling back into herself, shoring up those bloody defenses that, once in place, he knew he’d have a snowflake’s chance in hell of breaching. He ground his back teeth, fighting the urge to smash his fist into the side of the brick wall they were walking past.

“Eliza, if this is about your orders from Mellan —”

“Oh for the love of… I already told you that I have no wish to do as he says. It has nothing to do with that, Adam.”

Only slightly appeased, he searched her face. “Then what?”

She sighed. “Michaels told me to hold my own council.”

Adam was going to kill Sean bloody Michaels. Turn around and stuff his fist right into the man’s gob. Maybe pull his tongue out for good measure.

“Why? Why would he tell you that?”

Eliza uttered a little, incredulous laugh. “I rather think answering that question would be counterproductive to his original request.” She glanced at him. “And you need not growl. It won’t change my mind.”

“I was not growling.” Adam halted and turned to confront her, and, yes, growl in displeasure. Instantly, she lifted her chin and met his glare without flinching, her face pale against the dingy backdrop of the alleyway they’d been traversing. He’d become too isolated. It must be so, for her lack of deference to him both unsettled and made his insides warm. For centuries, anyone who came into his sphere either rushed to do his bidding or rushed to get the bloody hell away from him as quickly as possible. He’d had enemies. But no equals.

Some of the starch melted from his shoulders, and he fought a sigh. “You promised to be mine. As such, there should be no secrets between us.”

The rosebud of her lips went tight. “Yours? Hardly.”

“We are handfasted. Which is as good as declaring yourself mine.” At least until his time was up. But he wasn’t about to make that distinction. “Hiding things from me is hardly a fortuitous start.”

Eliza’s velvet-brown eyes flashed with ire. “If that is your logic, then you are mine as well.”

She couldn’t know the heady satisfaction those words had on him, else she wouldn’t have flung them with such enthusiasm. He felt himself grinning. It was not a nice smile but one of primal satisfaction, and he took a step closer. Not that Miss May noticed. Her voice grew in agitation as she continued her rebuttal. “Regardless of who owns whom, every person has a right to keep secrets.”

“Secrets imply lack of trust. What good is joining together if we cannot trust one another?”

Her slim shoulders lifted on a sigh, and she glanced away. Guilty. “What Mr. Michaels told me had nothing to do with you. It was about me.” Her gloved fist pressed against her sternum as she met his gaze once more. “It was about my life.”

Something hot and writhing seemed to go through his lower gut. “Are you in danger? Tell me that at least, Eliza, or I will not give you a moment’s peace.” He wouldn’t be able to.

A soft chuff of air left her. “No.” The thick fan of her lashes swept up as she stared into his eyes. “Adam, upon the souls of my family, I give my word that I will not betray you.”

The simplicity of her declaration, the unexpectedness of it, took the breath from him, and it shamed him that he hadn’t made certain things clear.

He sank to his knees before her. She gave a little squeak of surprise when he pressed his forehead between the soft pillows of her breasts. But she did not push him away. Adam knelt, his neck exposed, his hands at his side. “What kin I had have long since turned to bones. I’m no longer a knight but a broken-down shadow of that man. Hardly worthy to be your champion.”

He glanced up then, forcing himself to meet her eyes. “But Eliza May, your champion, I am. Upon the souls of the only ones that mean anything to me, my children, the ghosts in the machine, I swear, while there is breath left in my body, I will protect you.”

She went quietly pale, her soft lips parting. But it wasn’t her voice that cut through their fraught silence.

“Now that’s a rare sight round these parts, a man servicing a tart.”

Every battered muscle in Adam’s body tensed as he slowly turned, still on his knees.

Two street thugs ambled into the small alleyway. Both were tall yet wiry in the way of street criminals. And despite the friendly smiles they wore, their eyes held no pity, only a low simmer of lust and violence.

“Never been one for tipping the velvet muff meself, Pike,” the bald one said to his blond friend before his eyes roved over Eliza. “But I’m of a mind to try it with this here toffer.”

An old but familiar rush of sheer energy lit through Adam, the desire to kill. It hit him so strongly, he could barely see through the emotion, but he held it at bay. Blind rage only hurt a man in battle, making him sloppy and vulnerable.

“We’ve no blunt,” Adam said in a voice that carried. “I suggest you walk away while you can.”

“While we can? Oh, that’s a fancy cant, comin’ from the man on his knees,” Blond said with a sneer.

Pike’s face split into a grin. “Mayhaps we work our payment out on the mort. What says you, Jim? Care to grease your wick between those buttered buns?”

Eliza’s hand drifted down to Adam’s shoulder. He did not know if she sought support or wanted to offer it. But he knew quite well what she thought. Here he was, stuck on his knees, a broken fibula and radius, cracked ribs, and the chains leeching his strength. What protection could he provide, no matter how pretty his words were?

“A true man doesn’t take from a woman,” said Eliza, her tone far from afraid.

Pike snorted. “You’ll be bowin’ to me before the night is over and working the gutter lane.”

Another, stronger wave of black rage crashed over Adam. He’d kill Pike last, let the man realize what was coming for him. Jim, he’d merely damage. Not taking his eyes off Pike and Jim, Adam rolled his shoulders and his cloak slid off, revealing the chains coiled at his sides.

But the men merely grinned like cats cornering the canary. “See,” said Pike, “I told you I smelled fae magics on ’em.” His eyes flashed mustard yellow before going full black.

Oh, hell. Demons.

Eliza saw it too, for her grip on him tightened painfully. “Adam…”

“There’s a good price on yer head, GIM Maker,” said Jim. “An’ hows we’s hears it, you ain’t got no powers what to stop us with, what with them chains keeping you in check.”

“Eliza,” Adam said, not taking his eyes from them, “run away, and don’t look back.”

“We’ve got ourselves a runner, Jim.”

“Time for running has passed.” Adam lashed out, the thick chain on his wrist snapping like a whip, wrapping itself around Jim’s neck. The man’s eyes bugged out, his hands flying to his throat. Adam yanked the chain, and Jim’s feet left the ground as he hurtled forward. Adam’s fist met with his face, crunching bone. Jim flopped once and then went limp.

A blur of movement caught Adam’s eye. Pike, recovering from the shock of the moment, rushed him. Adam rolled into the charge, catching Pike’s legs with his shoulder. The thug toppled over him and landed flat on his back. With a roar of vengeance, Adam twisted and slammed his elbow into Pike’s throat, crushing his windpipe. Pike gagged, his arms flailing, trying to rise. Adam grabbed a handful of greasy hair and wrenched the head hard. A sharp crack rang out, and Pike went limp as a doll.

It wasn’t enough. They’d soon rise, and he hadn’t a weapon to truly destroy them. For now, there was only silence, the feel of his breath rushing in and out of his lungs and the foul stench of demon bowels letting loose. Then Eliza stirred, a bare flutter of skirts and a soft, gurgled sound of shock. He was not at all surprised to find her still standing there.

Adam shoved the body away from him. Eliza’s brown eyes were round and glossy against the pale of her usually honyed skin. Golden strands of hair fell about her face. He could not read her expression. Was she disgusted? Frightened?

Warily, he reached out to her. “Help me up?” His voice was soft, even as his heart beat hard and painfully. Aye, he could incapacitate two demons, and yet he hadn’t the strength to stand. Or maybe he simply needed to know she was still willing to touch him.

Eliza’s gazed darted from his outstretched hand to the bodies on the ground and back to his eyes. It was then he took note of the gun she held. Pointed directly at his heart. Cold flooded his veins. “Do you plan to use that, Miss May?”

She blinked, then glanced down at her hand, and her lithe body jerked as if she’d forgotten about the weapon. “I… you… It went so quickly.” Licking her pink lips, she lowered the weapon. “I was going to shoot them. But you took care of them first.”

Tenderness swelled within his chest. “If it pleases you, the next bastard who tries to assault us is yours to vanquish.”

Making a face, she tucked the pistol into her skirt pocket, then took hold of his hand. Her fingers were ice cold, even through her gloves. “I realize the women in your world are warriors, capable of killing without turning a hair.” She eased her shoulder beneath his arm, and together they stood. “I’m afraid you’ll find me lacking. I hate violence and death. I wouldn’t even have a gun, save Mr. Brown thought I might like to carry some protection.”

She was cold, so cold, and shivering. Adam turned her so that she was tucked against his side, and wrapped his arms about her before she could protest. “And still you were willing to shoot those men.”

She was stiff for a moment, then relaxed, her arms slipping around his waist as she trembled. “I’m even less willing to become a victim.”

Brave, strong lass. He pressed his lips to the satiny crown of her head. “I’ve hacked off so many limbs, beheaded numerous men, that I have long ago lost count of my deeds.” His mouth curled in a bitter smile as he thought about those long-ago battles. “And yet the sight of blood used to make me vomit.”

Eliza gave a start. “What?”

“Vomit. Every single time. My brother knights called me Scourge and Purge.”

She was still for a breath and then burst out laughing. Just as he’d hoped.

“Come, now,” he said, “we’ve got to move. These two won’t stay down for long.”

To punctuate his statement, a low groan came from the demon named Jim.

Eliza’s eyes widened. “I thought you killed them.”

Adam hurried them down the alleyway, his leg screaming in protest. “Unless you take their head or destroy their hearts, they will rise again.”

She jostled him as they moved onto the main lane. From the mouth of the alleyway, the two demon men emerged, their eyes yellow and enraged. Adam’s grip on Eliza tightened. “Come, they are up and following.”

Her steps quickened, dragging Adam along. He was panting now. No help for it.

Adam grunted and forced himself to focus not on the pain but getting them to safety. “We’ll go through the Rag Fair.” The GIM safe house was at the far end. If they could reach it, the GIM would scare off the demons. Unlike the fae, demons were susceptible to the GIM’s powers.

Adam simply had to get Eliza to the GIM first. They entered the hot chaos of the Rag Fair.