Soulbound (Darkest London 6)

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.