Soulbound
Page 17

 Kristen Callihan

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
The man had the grace to flush. He grumbled a bit but said no more.
“I ran from Boston to get away from him. And now he’s found me.” Bile burned up her throat as she thought of it. “Worse, Mab claims he’s her brother, and that I am to marry him.” The very idea that she’d marry her uncle… Good God, that Mellan was her uncle, made her ill.
Adam had grown utterly still, his golden eyes roaming her face as though he saw everything all too well. “Mab is your grandmother,” he pointed out softly. “Which makes him your granduncle.”
“Oh, well that makes it much better, thank you,” she choked out.
His big body sagged. “What have I to do with all of this? Tell me.”
She drew in a bracing breath, regrettably, since the room was foul. “I’m leaving. And I’m taking you with me.”
His response was not what she’d expected. Rearing back until his thick head hit the wall, he scowled fiercely. “No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
An imperious black brow rose. “Need I give you a definition of the word?”
Eliza sat back on her heals, a huff of shock leaving her lips. “Why on earth are you fighting me on this?”
His narrowed gaze slid away. “There are some things a man cannot outrun. Nor a woman. They will hunt you down, and believe me, they will make you hurt for your desertion.”
“Which is why I need your help.” Thick-headed demon.
“Have you had a good look at me, lass?” His shoulders bunched, all those sinewy muscles of his chest tightening as one lovely landscape of repressed strength. “I’m not the knight in shining armor you need.”
“No, but you are the only one available.”
Eliza pressed her sweaty palms onto her thighs. Even so, it took her a full minute to find her voice, one in which he stared her down as if waiting for the obvious. “Will you help me?”
A lock of black hair fell over his brow as he gave a pointed look towards his shackled wrists. “A bit hung up at the moment, dove.”
“You are hilarious,” she deadpanned. “Really, you ought to consider vaudeville.” She leaned in, coming closer to him than she’d like, but it certainly caught his attention. His gaze darted over her face as she spoke. “You know Mab’s ways, how she thinks. And you know London’s underworld. Help me and I will set you free. Don’t, and remain here as her plaything.”
His eyes narrowed, his lips compressing. “If I am to help you,” he said after a long, pained moment, “then I want something in return.”
Of course he did, calculating demon. Because she still feared he was a demon.
“I should think my freeing you is enough.”
Golden eyes, full of irritation and dry humor, pinned her. “Freeing me benefits you, as I cannot provide assistance otherwise.”
Annoying man. Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. “I could find someone else to help me.”
“Go ahead then,” Adam said with a shrug. “And good luck to you on your search.” With that, he closed his eyes and said no more.
Silence stretched between them.
“You aren’t moving,” Adam observed, his eyes still closed.
Blasted, no good rat…
“What is it you want?” she asked.
His eyes snapped open, his gaze spearing her with its intensity. “I want another bargain with you.”
“You cannot possibly believe I’d be so stupid as to make another pact with you.”
“This one you’ll make fully informed.” The corner of his eyes crinkled with the devil’s humor. “I’ll even give you more than ten seconds to decide.”
“Oh, really?” she drawled, not wanting to smile.
“Mmm…” The sound came out like a deep purr. She imagined a lion doing much the same. Before he pounced. “A full minute.”
It was tempting. Too tempting, to ask him what he wanted. Curiosity had always been her downfall. Hers was rampant. “State your terms, demon.”
“ ‘Adam’,” he corrected firmly. “You call me Adam or —”
“My Lord and Master, My Irresistible Liege?” she offered, tossing the words he’d once said back at him.
Against the sooty grime on his face, his teeth flashed white and strong. “You remember, dove.”
He was doing it again, using his charm to distract her.
“Adam,” she warned.
Her use of his name seemed to please him for heat entered his eyes, and he suddenly seemed closer. “I want you.”
Eliza rather feared she had made a horrible gurgle of shock. “ ‘Me.’ But why? Do you…” She blanched. “Fancy me?”
Abruptly he snorted. “No, not particularly, though you’re pretty enough.”
“Do not strain yourself with praise, sir.”
“You want sweet words now?” His thick lashes cast shadows on his cheek as he blinked up at her, the picture of innocent confusion. “When here I thought honesty was what you admired.”
“If you don’t have feelings for me,” she ground out, “then why do you want me? Just look at us, constantly at each other’s throats like baited bears.”
“I want the possibility of you,” he said softly.
Eliza’s mouth fell open. But he simply held her gaze, his expression, for once, perfectly serious.