Soulbound (Darkest London 6)

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.

Chapter Thirty

They’d placed him on a pallet under the window of Lucien’s great dining hall. Dressed in a simple tunic and resting on a bed of black velvet, his hands clasped on the hilt of his broken sword, Adam looked every inch the fallen knight. But peace had not eased his features.

Eliza sat by his side. The room was too hot, the light of hundreds of candles – a flame for each GIM – burning too bright for Eliza’s eyes. Yet she did not mind. She did not think on much at all. Only him.

Her hand curled around his cold and unmoving one. “Descartes said that it is easy to hate and it is difficult to love. I suspect he is right in some regard.” Eliza ran her thumb over Adam’s knuckles. “It was easy to hate you.” A strangled, half laugh, half sob left her. “I did it so well. And yet, it was so very easy to love you too, Adam.”

The light of the candles blurred as Eliza’s eyes filled. “Oh, I fought it, like a cat to a water bath. But it was of no use. Love you, I did.” Gently she stroked the back of his hand. A fighter’s hands, wide and strong. “And you must be my soul’s other half, impossible demon, for I feel so… broken.”

As if a damn had burst, she cried, tears falling fast and hot. The pain in her heart had her curling over Adam, resting her head upon his hard shoulder. And she cried. So hard that she nearly missed the faint hissing sound beneath her cheek. It grew louder, and Eliza sat up.

“Oh no.” Adam’s fine wool tunic began to disintegrate, spreading out from a patch by his chest. “No, no, no.” Eliza slapped at the slow burn, but it did not stop, and she hissed in pain when the cloth singed her fingers.

And then she froze, for it seemed as though Adam moved. Heart pounding furiously, Eliza sat, her gaze riveted to his chest and the spot where his clothing still burned away, enough now that she could see the smooth skin beneath. Skin that began to turn a healthy, golden shade.

An inarticulate cry left her as she lurched up, her chair clattering to the floor behind her. His chest moved again, a deep rise and fall. A breath.

Wordlessly, she stood. Watching. Blood rushed in her ears. It could not be.

And yet… His dark brows twitched, a frown.

“Ahh…” Eliza stumbled forward, her hand going to his shoulder. “Adam?” Her lips felt numb. Hope was a choking thing within.