Soulbound
Page 93
Adam’s smiled at his friend. “As are you.”
For a moment, Lucien simply stared and then he pressed his hand against eyes that grew red and watery. His shoulders shook as he stood at the entrance to the room. Gently, Adam moved Eliza to the side and went to Lucien. As if the GIM were his child, Adam pulled him close, and Lucien grasped at the back of Adam’s tunic, hugging him tight. His words were muffled against Adam’s shirt. “I missed you.”
When Adam rose from death, so too did the GIM. Which, in turn, scared the wits out of human Londoners. Even from the relative solitude of Lucien’s barge, one could hear the commotion running amok throughout London. The SOS was working overtime with the queen to contain the problem, using false news reports about a gas leak to pacify the fear. Not that leaking gas was anything to smile over, but at the very least it was something logical to the human mind. Better that than explain that there were those who walked about with clockwork hearts in their breasts.
As for the supernatural population of London, they breathed a sigh of relief. Or most of them did. Some demons were not at all happy that the GIM had been reborn. To which Adam replied, somewhat sardonically to Lucien, that the demon rabble could “kiss his left nut.”
“Only the left one, sire?” Lucien teased.
Adam huffed, his attention set on placing a tiny cog into the clock he’d been fixing for the past hour. “It hangs lower, and I wouldn’t want them too far up in my business.”
“Charming,” Eliza murmured. “Truly, Adam.”
He merely winked at her, his grin wide and mischievous.
Fortunately, Daisy and Mary arrived, putting an end to discussions of Adam’s lower anatomy.
Eliza rose to embrace them.
“It gladdens my heart that you are here,” she whispered when they hugged as one.
Daisy gave a wry chuckle and kissed Eliza’s cheek. “As it does mine, sweet dear.”
Mary, who was more reserved, simply nodded in agreement. “Though I am not certain who was more happy, myself for being alive once again or my husband for seeing me wake.”
“Your husband, to be sure,” Daisy murmured, her plump cheeks pink. They went deeper pink, even as her eyes crinkled with a saucy look. “If he behaved anything as mine did?”
Mary gave Daisy an exasperated look, but did not reply.
She hadn’t an opportunity, for Ian Ranulf, the lycan king and Daisy’s husband, stepped up to Eliza. He’d been quietly talking to Lucien and Adam, but now he faced her. He was a handsome man, undeniably so. Vivid blue eyes, fine features, and rich auburn hair that fell down around his shoulders. It ought to look feminine but he looked every bit the warrior Adam did.
In truth, he was a tad frightening, his expression fierce with concentration. High color darkened his face as he stared at Eliza with an intensity that was slightly unnerving. The room fell silent. But Eliza did not look around. She kept her attention on the man capable of turning into a wolf and tearing her throat out on a whim.
His nostrils flared on a sharp breath. And then he fell to his knees. His hair swung forward as he bowed his head.
“My lady,” he said in a deep burr, “you restored my wife to me, and that of my kinswoman. I am in your debt. Beyond measure. Beyond price. Consider me your servant, and I shall gladly do as ye bid.”
Eliza looked around, helplessly. Adam’s gaze met hers, his solemn yet gleaming with a bit of humor. He gave her a nod of encouragement. Just beyond him, a massive, younger man with light brown hair stood, his hand upon Mary’s shoulder. “It is so,” the man said in a voice deep with emotion.
“I…” She gaped down at the man before her. “I would not be here were it not for Daisy and Mary coming to my aid and calling Adam to me. Thus we must be even in gratitude.”
Ranulf lifted his head. “Aye, well, I’ll be contesting that claim, Miss May. You brought my world back to me. I’ll not be forgetting that, nor taking it lightly.” A spark of good humor lit his eyes. “Will you accept my thanks then?”
Eliza would not blush. Her cheeks went warm. “Of course.”
With great formality, Ranulf took her hand and pressed her knuckles to his forehead. He held her there for one long moment, then placed a kiss on the air just above her hand. With that, he rose, a graceful and lithe move Eliza had come to expect from supernaturals.
“Now then,” said Daisy, bustling over. “Enough with emotional displays. You’ll soon give poor Jack the vapors.”
Jack turned out to be the massive man with the brown hair, who snorted at this and rolled his eyes. “Only you are capable of doing that to me, Daisy.”
Then they all enjoyed a lovely dinner, in which Lucien entertained them with stories of New Orleans as it was in the last century. Then it was Ian and Adam’s turn to tell stories of the past.
It wasn’t until the dawn neared and their visitors had gone home that silence descended, and only Lucien remained, sitting opposite Eliza. As for Adam, his body was draped in a large black chair, adorned with mother of pearl, that sat at the head of the table. From the surprised looks the others had when Adam sat in it, Eliza had gathered that this was Lucien’s special chair. Lucien, however, had been the one to insist that Adam sit there.
Now, the candles burned low, leaving the table aglow with mellow light. Lucien had been quiet for some time, taking slow sips of his wine, his eyes watching the little candle flames flickering. Now his gaze went to Adam, and Lucien’s expression grew pensive.
For a moment, Lucien simply stared and then he pressed his hand against eyes that grew red and watery. His shoulders shook as he stood at the entrance to the room. Gently, Adam moved Eliza to the side and went to Lucien. As if the GIM were his child, Adam pulled him close, and Lucien grasped at the back of Adam’s tunic, hugging him tight. His words were muffled against Adam’s shirt. “I missed you.”
When Adam rose from death, so too did the GIM. Which, in turn, scared the wits out of human Londoners. Even from the relative solitude of Lucien’s barge, one could hear the commotion running amok throughout London. The SOS was working overtime with the queen to contain the problem, using false news reports about a gas leak to pacify the fear. Not that leaking gas was anything to smile over, but at the very least it was something logical to the human mind. Better that than explain that there were those who walked about with clockwork hearts in their breasts.
As for the supernatural population of London, they breathed a sigh of relief. Or most of them did. Some demons were not at all happy that the GIM had been reborn. To which Adam replied, somewhat sardonically to Lucien, that the demon rabble could “kiss his left nut.”
“Only the left one, sire?” Lucien teased.
Adam huffed, his attention set on placing a tiny cog into the clock he’d been fixing for the past hour. “It hangs lower, and I wouldn’t want them too far up in my business.”
“Charming,” Eliza murmured. “Truly, Adam.”
He merely winked at her, his grin wide and mischievous.
Fortunately, Daisy and Mary arrived, putting an end to discussions of Adam’s lower anatomy.
Eliza rose to embrace them.
“It gladdens my heart that you are here,” she whispered when they hugged as one.
Daisy gave a wry chuckle and kissed Eliza’s cheek. “As it does mine, sweet dear.”
Mary, who was more reserved, simply nodded in agreement. “Though I am not certain who was more happy, myself for being alive once again or my husband for seeing me wake.”
“Your husband, to be sure,” Daisy murmured, her plump cheeks pink. They went deeper pink, even as her eyes crinkled with a saucy look. “If he behaved anything as mine did?”
Mary gave Daisy an exasperated look, but did not reply.
She hadn’t an opportunity, for Ian Ranulf, the lycan king and Daisy’s husband, stepped up to Eliza. He’d been quietly talking to Lucien and Adam, but now he faced her. He was a handsome man, undeniably so. Vivid blue eyes, fine features, and rich auburn hair that fell down around his shoulders. It ought to look feminine but he looked every bit the warrior Adam did.
In truth, he was a tad frightening, his expression fierce with concentration. High color darkened his face as he stared at Eliza with an intensity that was slightly unnerving. The room fell silent. But Eliza did not look around. She kept her attention on the man capable of turning into a wolf and tearing her throat out on a whim.
His nostrils flared on a sharp breath. And then he fell to his knees. His hair swung forward as he bowed his head.
“My lady,” he said in a deep burr, “you restored my wife to me, and that of my kinswoman. I am in your debt. Beyond measure. Beyond price. Consider me your servant, and I shall gladly do as ye bid.”
Eliza looked around, helplessly. Adam’s gaze met hers, his solemn yet gleaming with a bit of humor. He gave her a nod of encouragement. Just beyond him, a massive, younger man with light brown hair stood, his hand upon Mary’s shoulder. “It is so,” the man said in a voice deep with emotion.
“I…” She gaped down at the man before her. “I would not be here were it not for Daisy and Mary coming to my aid and calling Adam to me. Thus we must be even in gratitude.”
Ranulf lifted his head. “Aye, well, I’ll be contesting that claim, Miss May. You brought my world back to me. I’ll not be forgetting that, nor taking it lightly.” A spark of good humor lit his eyes. “Will you accept my thanks then?”
Eliza would not blush. Her cheeks went warm. “Of course.”
With great formality, Ranulf took her hand and pressed her knuckles to his forehead. He held her there for one long moment, then placed a kiss on the air just above her hand. With that, he rose, a graceful and lithe move Eliza had come to expect from supernaturals.
“Now then,” said Daisy, bustling over. “Enough with emotional displays. You’ll soon give poor Jack the vapors.”
Jack turned out to be the massive man with the brown hair, who snorted at this and rolled his eyes. “Only you are capable of doing that to me, Daisy.”
Then they all enjoyed a lovely dinner, in which Lucien entertained them with stories of New Orleans as it was in the last century. Then it was Ian and Adam’s turn to tell stories of the past.
It wasn’t until the dawn neared and their visitors had gone home that silence descended, and only Lucien remained, sitting opposite Eliza. As for Adam, his body was draped in a large black chair, adorned with mother of pearl, that sat at the head of the table. From the surprised looks the others had when Adam sat in it, Eliza had gathered that this was Lucien’s special chair. Lucien, however, had been the one to insist that Adam sit there.
Now, the candles burned low, leaving the table aglow with mellow light. Lucien had been quiet for some time, taking slow sips of his wine, his eyes watching the little candle flames flickering. Now his gaze went to Adam, and Lucien’s expression grew pensive.
