Soulbound by Kristen Callihan Page B

had she wanted to try. Even then, she could not bring herself to kill. She’d been forced to do it enough as it was.
    “But now he is the one chained and weak.” Mellan flashed his fangs. “Easy pickings, Eliza.”
    For a moment, Eliza allowed herself to picture the deed, to envision Adam’s golden eyes going lifeless and dull. Whatever he was to her, he did not deserve that. No one did.
    Tears burned hot in her eyes but did not fall. They only fell when death was coming. “If Adam is my soul mate, I will not be able to take his soul without destroying my own.”
    “Well then,” Mellan said through a creeping smile, “you had better pray that he is not.”
     
    Eliza lay in the dark. The bedding around her was a cloud of silk. Comfortable, perfect, the very luxury she’d often dreamed of. But she could not draw a clean, free breath. She thought of Adam’s flesh, slashed, his blood flowing. She’d done nothing to help him, but watched his torture, as they all did. This was the life she would live? This is what she’d become? A fanciful creature, intent on nothing more than her own pleasure? And now that Mellan had found her, he’d use her as a plaything and then toss her away. After she killed Adam.
    Her first kill had been accidental. She’d been young and terrified, alone in the world after her grandfather had died. Easy prey for predators. And when she’d walked back from the market one day, her once-kind neighbor had cornered her in the alleyway behind their row houses. Even now she remembered the stink of his breath and the grip of his sweaty hands, and it filled her with a queasy revulsion. She’d screamed then. That strange, ugly, odd scream, her hand rising to grasp his chest. And he’d simply died before her eyes.
    Eliza hadn’t felt relief, only a bone-deep terror. And then Mellan had appeared, as always, moving from dark shadows into the light.
    “Dear girl, you’re frightened.” He’d stroked her cheeks with a tender hand, this lovely, strange man. “When you should rejoice. You did this. You have the power to walk amongst the foulest creatures and never fear again.”
    How seductive it sounded back then. Come live with Mellan, be one of his crew, and all she had to do were some little favors for him.
    Eliza tossed in her bed, her stomach roiling. She hated herself for agreeing those first few times. And then, when her soul grew black with the grime of her sins, Eliza had told him no more. And he’d made her pay.
    He’d beaten her and ground her will into dust. For so long.
    Her whole life, she’d felt a bit like a cork in a vast sea, men’s expectations batting her here and there. She did not mind going where the winds took her but she wanted a sail, oars, and rudders. She wanted a say. And she was damn well through with being under the thumb of another’s will. The truth slammed into her like a rogue wave; if she wanted a say, she needed power.
    “And I’m not going to get any by sitting on my ass,” she muttered, rising to her feet. No, she needed a plan.

Chapter Eight
    S in’s insides grew uncomfortably tight as he climbed the wide, red carpeted steps of the theatre. All around him people followed, making their way to their seats while chatting and softly laughing. Anticipation was a palpable hum, thicker tonight, for Londoners loved good gossip, and this performance promised to offer up a tasty meal of it. For Miss Layla Starling, the young, beautiful, and extremely wealthy heiress, was in attendance. With a suitor. Until now, she’d managed to evade the marriage noose. Despite the fact that she was unfortunately American, she’d received a staggering number of offers. And turned down every one.
    Sin did not want to admit to the relief he felt every time he heard of her refusals. Nor did he want to admit to feeling as though his knees were cut out from under him when he thought of Layla finally marrying. Which was unfair of him. Layla deserved to be happy. She deserved to