As for Adam, he felt as though he were made of lead. It took effort to speak. “So our bargain —”
“I made that bargain with you before he demanded this.” Her cheeks paled. “He was not fooled when I refused to whip you, and he became suspicious.”
With a jerk of his head, Adam nodded. It eased him to know she hadn’t initially sought his help as part of Mellan’s plan. Though the thought of Mellan sending Eliza on a fool’s errand to presumably cut off Adam’s head with his own sword had him seeing red. How could the bloody fool possibly think Eliza could go up against a seasoned fighter? “And are you?”
Eliza frowned. “Am I what?”
“Going to kill me.” At this point, Adam did not know if he’d try to stop her. He did not think he could bear defending himself against her.
She lowered her head, her lashes fluttering down as well. “I suppose I deserve that.” When she looked at him, her expression was composed but hate burned in her eyes. It was strong enough to have him flinching. Her smooth voice flowed over him. “There is only one being I long to destroy, and that is Mellan.” She leaned in a little. “You promised to help me be free. Then help me be free of him, and I shall…”
“What?” he whispered. “Do whatever I want? Give yourself to me?”
Her nostrils flared, but she did not waver from her fierce stare. Adam waved a hand. “Be at ease. I thought I made it perfectly clear that I have no interest in having you under duress.”
Eliza merely blinked, still not moving, and Adam resisted the urge to fidget in his bed. “What is Mellan to you, Eliza? An old lover? What is the connection?”
She flinched. “We never… He’d hint at wanting that, use it as a threat to scare me. But, no, thank the gods, no.” A fine flush covered her cheeks. “There was a man or two, young lieutenants in his gang in Boston, when I wanted basic comfort.” At once she stopped and took a breath and gave him a glare. “Not that it is any of your business.”
Adam laughed a little, holding up his palms. “You’ll find no judgment from me. Although, in the fairness of truth, the idea of Mellan touching you revolts me, if only because I hate him. Thus it is more the notion of being offended on your behalf, lass.”
She smiled then. “In the spirit of honesty, Adam, I feel the same outrage over Mab on your behalf.”
He found himself grinning like a fool. Were he not weakened and in pain, he’d pull her into the bed with him. The moment between them grew thick and taught, and his breath quickened, despite his wretched state, but she broke from his gaze and a frown worked its way across her brow.
“So then, Mellan wants some old sword of yours.”
“Old,” he scoffed. “You make it, and me, sound like a dusty relic.”
Almost as if she had no control over it, her gaze went to his bared chest. He felt it like a soft glove stroking his skin, and his gut tightened with sweet pleasure. Lord, if he got his hands on her, let him not unman himself by going off like a lad. Adam cleared his throat. And so did she.
“There’s more,” she said. “Last night, I had a visitor.”
Adam scowled. “Who? Are you hurt? What happened?”
“Nothing like that.” She eyed him. “It was Daisy. The woman who called you to me?”
“Ah, yes, Daisy Ranulf.” He quite liked the saucy wench. In truth, there was much about her that reminded him of Eliza. “Did she want to see me?” Adam really didn’t want to be seen in this condition. But Daisy was his child just as any other, and he would not turn her away.
“Yes.” Eliza’s expression was grim. “Adam, she was stuck in spirit form. She could not return to her body, and…” Eliza sucked in a breath. “Adam, the GIM are ill somehow… Did you not notice how wane they all are? I’ve been talking to them. They say there are those who have simply vacated their bodies and died.”
All these months, Adam had known fear and rage. But it had been directed toward his own predicament. Now his chest constricted as a lump rose within his throat. His children. Ill. Dying.
Rage without an outlet or hope of recourse was a terrible thing. It turned in on itself and ate away at one’s soul. A man could wither under such emotion. Adam ground his teeth, taking a ragged breath as he stared up at the rough-beamed ceiling. “I cannot help them.”
“What?” Eliza’s question was a breath of outrage.
His chains clattered as he punched the mattress. “Have you gone deaf? I cannot do a thing. I’ve lost my power. Nor do I know why this has occurred.” Adam blinked rapidly. “What am I to do, Eliza? I’m no longer their king, but a mere man.”
“You are our king still,” said a voice from the doorway. Mr. Brown, the proprietor.
He looked at Adam as though he was a source of salvation. Weariness weighed down Adam’s body. “No, I cannot help you.” He lifted his head and took in the GIM hovering at the door. It seemed the whole of the inn had crowded forward, wanting to hear his confession. Pain turned to regret. “The fae bitch spoke true. I am without power.” Slowly, he eased to standing, swaying a bit with the effort. “To harbor me is ill advised.”
A ripple seemed to go through the room. They knew what he was saying. He was giving himself up to their care or letting them turn him over to Mab.
“Can you no see our souls? Or hear our thoughts?” said a young woman, her brow furrowed as she looked up at him.