Soulbound (Darkest London 6)

Augustus’s smile was slow and broad. Again, before Sin’s eyes, he shifted, his flesh becoming crystalline and pure. It was beautiful and unearthly. “Not ice, but altered. He was not cursed but becoming Judgment.”

“Judgment?”

“Yes. A select group of warriors who possess the ability to judge a soul and send it to the afterlife. Archer did not know what he was. Thus he feared it and never learned the ability to control it.” Augustus’s lashes swept down, and he frowned. “The fault was mine. My acolyte Victoria was damaged, mentally, and she’d stolen my secrets, giving her the knowledge to create others without proper care. I did not know until it was too late. Nor did I know about Archer’s change until he was already free of it.”

“Have you told Archer?”

Augustus’s shake of the head was almost undetectable. “No.”

“Why the devil not?”

With a sigh, Augustus sat back. “He is no longer Judgment. Therefore, he cannot know unless he was to take up that task once more.” A look of melancholy filled his eyes. “Why would he want to when he has Miranda now? When his life is settled.” He gave a bracing sigh. “But enough of that. It is you of whom we speak tonight.”

“You want me to become Judgment.” Sin laughed. “I’m hardly fitting for the task. Nor do I have the ability to alter my flesh to…” He waved a hand in Augustus’s direction. “Do that.”

“But you could. Become Judgment, St. John.”

This time, when Sin wanted to surge to his feet, he was free to do so. He paced away from the fireplace and then turned back toward Augustus. “And Mab? She owns me. As surely as if I were a piece of furniture.” He slammed his fist against a sideboard for emphasis, and the knickknacks upon it rattled.

Augustus did not blink. “You are blood bonded. Take the elixir and your blood will be irrevocably changed. The debt will dissolve.”

“Convenient that.”

“It is.” Augustus smiled. “I know things that that bitch cannot begin to fathom.”

“Then kill her yourself.”

“Alas, I cannot. We all have our crosses to bear. Mine is that I can no longer act as Judgment but merely guide those who choose to serve.”

“To do your dirty work.” Sin ran a hand through his hair and picked up pacing again. “Even if I were to do this, there is no guarantee that I could destroy Mab. Holly managed to destroy her human body but Mab merely popped up again a few months later.” Sin could only be thankful that Mab had decided to stay far away from Holly. He supposed she was still smarting over Holly slicing her to ribbons with iron bars.

“Dear boy, there are few more powerful things on this Earth than Judgment. And one with the power of all the elements?” Augustus gave a small shake of his head. “She hasn’t a chance. Even better? She’ll never see you coming because she believes she is in utter control over you.”

The very idea was a whisper of seduction along Sin’s skin. To be free.

“Think, St. John,” Augustus said quietly. “A chance to live a life of pride, to do good, to be with Layla.”

Sin’s gaze snapped to the man sitting in the chair. “Yes, what of Layla? Why do you guard her?”

“You do not get to know that until you are Judgment.”

Sin ground his teeth. The bastard was blackmailing him. And Sin would fall for it, because if there was one true thing he held on to, it was the thought that Layla Starling, his childhood friend, lived safe and happy in this world.

With a sigh, Augustus stood. Slowly he walked to him. “Let me give you this.” Before Sin could speak, Augustus whipped his own palm across his mouth, tearing the flesh open with the tip of a fang that had suddenly descended in his mouth. Sin didn’t have time to flinch as Augustus cupped his cheek, smearing hot crimson blood over Sin’s skin. “By my blood,” he said, looking into Sin’s eyes, “I swear what I say is truth.”

Sin felt himself sag, his will crumpling. Perhaps he’d regret this even more than his other mistakes. Perhaps he was consigning himself to more misery. Sin closed his eyes tight and let fate have its go. “Tell me what I must do.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Eliza stood in the little living room of the cottage that Adam had secured. It was a warm, tidy room with a separate sleeping room and a good-sized bed. For two. She’d resolutely not looked at that bed when they inspected the place. But she was glad to have a haven to stop and rest for a while. Her stomach tightened; they also needed to eat.

But Adam had yet to move from his chair by the hearth. Firelight painted the strong lines of his face in warm gold. But his hair was so raven black that it absorbed the light. A lock of it fell over his brow, dancing just over the bold curve of his nose. Eliza fixated on that sight, waiting for him to brush the tendril away. Yet he never moved. Her fingers began to itch to do the job for him. Perhaps stroke his hair and see the deep lines along the corners of his eyes ease a bit.

Repressing a sigh, she moved toward him, noting the way his shoulders tensed and his wide, mobile mouth thinned. Oh yes, he might have been looking off into the fire, but he’d been aware of her the entire time.

Drawing a footstool with her, she sat and waited, knowing he’d be unable to ignore her for long. He never could.

Soon enough, his gaze sought hers out. And she flinched inwardly. Here was not the arrogant ass who’d chained her, nor the proud yet pained man who’d been chained himself. Not even the sly charmer who’d wrangled a kiss from her this morning. This man was pensive, lost.