Soulbound (31 page)

A snort left Adam, and he slumped in his chair, pressing his fingers to his eyes. “All too soon, I’ll be as far from human as one can get, my friend.” And he’d have an eternity to remember Eliza.

A
dam left London on a sun-filled day. No rain for him, only clear skies and that rare and lovely weather that made Londoners flock to the outdoors. Cursing the weather, and heavy of heart, Adam moved away from the hot sunshine and stepped into the shadows provided by a large elm tree. Across the lane, Eliza sat in the window seat of Mab’s grand house. Lucien had told him that Mab’s possessions would go to Eliza. Good.

Adam had left all his worldly goods to Eliza at any rate. He’d amassed a king’s fortune several times over, and he wanted her to have it. He would not be returning to London. He wouldn’t be able to stand it, not when he knew she’d be here, within reach but never obtainable.

Under his collar, his clock rested against his skin. Eliza had taken it off just before they’d parted, her expression void of any emotion.
I no longer need to keep this safe. It is yours once more.
And it had felt as though she’d torn his heart out all over again. But he’d said nothing, nor protested when she walked away.

The clock ticked a steady rhythm, power flowing through it and into him. Once more, he felt each and every soul he’d saved as if they surrounded him. With stiff movements, he pressed his hand to his chest. He’d literally experienced having his heart ripped out, and yet this was worse. Physical pain eventually ended, the lights dimmed, and the mind shut off. Enduring without happiness or hope, that was the true hell. And his happiness sat across the way. She lived, and he would hold that thought close to him. She’d live a full and adventurous life, just as she’d dreamed of doing.

Behind the window, Eliza stared out onto the street. She could not see him now; he was invisible to the living. Even so, he hid in the shadows, afraid that she might catch a glimpse of his spirit. If he stopped to say good-bye or explain himself, he would never leave.

Logically, Adam understood that he ought to lay the choice at her feet. But everything in him protested at asking her to leave this world. For centuries he’d wanted nothing more than to be a normal man once more. He would not, could not, offer her anything less than a normal life.

Eliza stirred, sunlight gleaming in her hair and caressing the curve of her cheek. A lump rose hard in Adam’s throat, choking him. And he turned away, unable to look upon her a moment longer. It took but a thought and the black door to his own personal hell opened up before him. Adam stepped into it without looking back.

He’d left without saying good-bye. It ought to have hurt the most, this slight, but it did not. No, Eliza was far more hurt by the simple fact that Adam had left her. The when and how of it meant little in the face of that rejection.

Alone, she sat, as she’d done every day for the past few months, in the window seat of Mab’s house. Her house now.

Shortly after Adam had disappeared from Lucien’s barge, from this world entirely, a solicitor came to visit Eliza. A fae solicitor as it turned out. The little man, dressed in a velvet suit of forest green, had given her a neat bow and introduced himself as Mr. Marcus. Combined with his bright red hair and smattering of freckles across his nose, he bore an unfortunate resemblance to one of those cartoon leprechauns that merchants liked to paste up in their shops come St. Patrick’s Day. Or they did in Boston. Eliza did not know if anyone celebrated here in London.

“I did not realize that fae occupied such professions,” Eliza had mused.

“I can’t see why not,” Mr. Marcus had said sensibly. “We’ve claims and courts just like any other.”

Well then.

And it turned out that she now owned all of Mab’s estate. Eliza was also the most natural candidate to take over the throne. “However,” Mr. Marcus went on to explain, “should you not take up the claim, there are many others most willing to do so.”

Eliza could just bet. “Let them at it, Mr. Marcus. I’m of this world, and here is where I intend to say.” Eliza might have gone to Adam’s domain, if he’d but asked. No. She would not think of that.

And so she took up Mab’s estate, despite the fact that the house felt repugnant to her. For where else was she to go? She might stay with Daisy, or one of her sisters, Poppy or Miranda, who were also Eliza’s distant cousins. And Holly Evernight had extended an offer as well. But all of them had families, husbands who loved them. And Eliza was in no mood to live amongst marital bliss, thank you very much.

As for Sin, he’d disappeared. Not a soul knew where he had gone, though his sisters seemed quite tight-lipped and cagey about the subject. Now Eliza had a fine home, one on which she’d spent a fortune – Mab’s old fortune – to have redone. Gone were the gaudy trappings, the endless greens and ornate flowering brocades.

Eliza gravitated toward simple luxury now. Understated creams, blues, and golds. Calm and peaceful. Nothing like how she felt inside, empty and aching.

“Don’t you look a sight,” said a man’s voice.

Eliza nearly jumped out of her skin, her heart rearing up into her throat. Pressing her hand upon her breast, she turned and glared. “St. John Evernight, you gave me a fright.”

Sin, looking far too pale and thin, gave a small smile. “Apologies. I’ve been told I walk on cat’s feet.” His expression dimmed at that, and he gave a negligent shrug. “I thought you might like some company.”

“I would…” Eliza shook herself out of her shocked state. “I was just thinking of you.”

“Not too terrible thoughts, I hope?” He appeared to expect the opposite.

“Don’t be ridiculous. But where have you been? Everyone is concerned.”

He shook his head, appearing bemused. “I’ve grave doubts that
everyone
is. In truth, my sisters are not happy with me at the moment.”

“They found out about your bond with Mab.”

“Close enough.” He winced and rubbed a spot over his chest.

Eliza hurt for the way he so clearly hated himself. “Well, I worried. I care.”

“You’re too good to me, cousin.” But his shoulders relaxed a bit as he sat in the chair opposite her and offered a small, weak smile.

“Nonsense. I could be better.” Eliza leaned forward. “Stay here with me, Sin. As you can see, I’ve cleaned house.”

“Yes,” he said, glancing about, “and quite nicely at that. I approve. But I cannot stay.”

“Mab is dead. Do not let her memory hurt you.”

He made a small sound of dry humor. “Believe me, no one is more glad of that fact than I.”

“Which means you are free.”

“Yes.” He did not sound happy but weary.

“Then why haven’t you returned home? Why can’t you stay?”

He glanced towards the window, and the morning sun cast his fine feature in harsh light. “I think it best if I go away for a while. See what there is of the world.” He turned back, his green eyes searching. “You could come with me, if you’d like. We could have an adventure or two.”

It was just the thing Eliza had always yearned to do. But she no longer wanted to do it with anyone else but the man who’d left her behind. Perhaps that knowledge was clear upon her face, for Sin’s hopeful expression dimmed.

He slouched in his chair. “I’ve heard Adam has gone for good.” His tone was gentle.

Not that it mattered. It still hurt. Far more than Eliza wanted it to. Blasted Adam. “Yes.”

Sin peered at her. “So then you never warmed to him?”

“Must we discuss this?” Eliza plucked at her sleeve, then curled her legs up and under her within the well of her comfortable chair.

“We might talk of other things, yes.” Sin shrugged. “Only you appear… sad, cousin. Like your heart’s been broken.”

Before she could stop it, her eyes instantly watered, and a horrible sniffle broke free. “Oh, well, it’s better to have loved and lost… Hell, I can’t even finish that nonsense.” Eliza wrenched herself from the chair and went to the window, only to walk away. She was pacing. Which was never a good sign.

“You love him, then.”

Sin’s quiet conviction slashed into wounds that had yet to scab over. Eliza sucked in a breath. “What does it matter? He did not want me to go with him.”

The mantle clock ticked merrily away, a rapid click, click, click. Eliza was of a mind to toss the timepiece out the window.

“Eliza,” Sin said softly, “you do realize that for you to have gone with Adam to his world, you would have had to leave this one?”

Eliza’s breath stilled. Slowly she turned. “What do you mean?”

Sin’s handsome face was somber. “I mean, dear girl, that Adam’s realm is of the dead. The living cannot go there.”

“So I would have to die?”

“It isn’t really death though, is it?” Sin ran a hand over his mouth, his brows drawing close. “I mean, you are not of this body, but of the soul that resides within?”

“I’ve been a spirit, Sin,” Eliza said through dry lips. “It was not very pleasant.” She’d felt nothing, just as Adam had felt nothing for centuries. Adam. She missed him so very much.

“That is because you were hovering here. From how Daisy tells it” – a shadow filled his eyes upon the mention of his sister – “when you are There, you feel as whole and as real as you were on this side of the coin. As if you were alive There and a spirit Here.”

“So I would be as I am here but with —”

“Him,” Sin finished for her. “Yes.” He hesitated, wincing slightly. “But you wouldn’t be able to come back here. I don’t believe so, at any rate.”

Eliza pinched the bridge of her nose, tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. “Not every soul goes to him. Some move on.” True death, Adam and Lucien had called it, to a place no one living had ever been. What if she were to end up there?

“You are Adam’s soul mate, are you not? His other half? You’ll go where he goes.” Sin stared at her. “Or do you believe that was all Mab’s nonsense?”

Eliza sagged against the arm of her couch. “He let me go,” she said helplessly. “What is to say he even believes in us?”

“Or maybe he let you go because he loved you too much to ask you to leave this life behind?”

“That ought to have been my decision, if that were so.”

“Then there’s naught for it,” Sin said decidedly. “Make the decision now. Do you love him enough to risk everything?”

Lucien was reading a book when Eliza arrived. The sight of him, sitting in a reading chair, a pair of spectacles perched on his perfectly shaped nose, was so incongruous with how he usually presented himself to the world that Eliza stopped short.

As for Lucien, he closed the book with a muted thud of the pages and set it aside. His smile was genuine if not sad as he took off his glasses and stood. “This is a nice surprise,
ma chère
.”

“I hope I have not intruded upon your quiet time.” Eliza took another step farther into the room, near the drinks table placed against the wall.

“Hardly,” he said with a slight wave of his hand. “And I shall always be here for you, my lady.”

She wasn’t a lady. But she supposed he was trying to be kind.

“What brings you here, Eliza?” The rare use of her name was soft and searching. He must have known she wanted to speak of Adam.

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Only one?” His full lips curled. “How rare.”

“Well, perhaps a few more than that.” She gestured toward the drink. “Might I have a drink with you?”

“But of course. Let me —” He moved to come pour her a drink, and Eliza waved him off.

“I’ll get it.” Eliza selected a crystal glass and, turning her back on him, filled it. Her hand shook only a little when she made her way over to him.

Lucien had pulled out his favored chair – the very damned chair that she’d made love with Adam on – and another for her. She ground her teeth together and accepted a seat, waiting for him to sit upon the chair that she could barely look at anymore.

“So then,” he said picking up his own half-filled glass. Deep amber liquid swirled about there. Brandy perhaps. He took a sip, then gave her an expectant look. “You have questions. I hope I have the answers, my lady.”

As did she.

“You know,” she said in a low voice, “I am not a lady.”

Lucien gave a lazy smile. “Ah, but you are, for you are Adam’s queen.”

Eliza snorted, a most unladylike sound. “If that were so, I’d be with him.”

“You speak of geography,” Lucien answered easily. “I speak of the heart.”

Her own heart quickened at that. She tapped the hope down. “What is his realm like?”

Lucien’s glass froze halfway to his lips. Carefully, he set it back down. “Just as it is here. Call it an alternate version of our world. Only the ghosts you see there – and you,
mon
amie
, will see them – are the souls of the people who live here.”

“Is he all alone then? Without friends?” Her heart ached at the thought.

“Not entirely. Any GIM may travel there. He need only give permission. He hasn’t in the past.” Something like sorrow rested in Lucien’s pale green eyes. But he blinked it away. “Do not fret,
amie
. It is not a horrible place.”

“Hmm.” Eliza toyed with the stem of her glass. Part of her wanted to fling it across the room and leave this barge. But she’d never outrun her need for Adam. He was part of her, and she was soul-sick without him. “And his home? Has he a place of comfort?”