Page 32 of Adam, Mine

Henry’s shoulders dropped with relief. He explained how to travel to the faraway place, even describing what things on the way looked like so Elias could be sure he was heading in the right direction.

Elias sheathed his blade. He looked Henry up and down one last time.

“One day, I will return to this town and I will find you.”

“Oh god,” Henry moaned.

“You will not need to run when we meet again,” Elias promised, then turned to leave Henry’s house.

“What does that mean?” Henry called after him. “What are you about to do? What do you mean?”

Elias did not answer him.

“Thank you for this gift, Henry Clerval.”

Ruin

He couldn’t bear this place for another sunrise.

The first alchemist’s home was empty of relevant literature. His home had tomes, but they looked more like the gentle love stories his mother had read to them on cold winter nights. Covers with curly text and illustrations of couples embracing or walking down garden paths.

The alchemist himself slept nearby. A fussy-looking man with higgledy-piggledy curls, in a lacy nightshirt.

Elias walked through his home but did not find anything that reminded him of Victor or his book. He put everything to rights and left quickly, pulling the door shut tight.

The second alchemist’s house looked more promising. Elias had never seen a dwelling this large in his life. All the windows were dark except one with light shining from the third floor.

Elias felt the urge to knock again but tamped it down. He had not known many wealthy people in his life, but so far the ones he knew had been horrific. The authorities came swiftly for them as well.

Instead, he pried open a window on the first floor with his blade and slithered inside. Elias took off his shoes and placed them on the floor outside the window. Franz’s church shoes would not be quiet on the wood.

He slid, socked, across the room and out into the hallway. He could hear movement in two places, one farther into the house on the first floor and another higher upstairs. The recognizable creaking of someone pacing and the ceramic clatter of dishes being washed.

Wealthy men did not clean their own mess. Elias took the stairs.

He wanted to close his eyes against this opulence. The gleam of everything in here felt threatening. Even the walls were covered in paintings, an unthinkable luxury. Elias remembered buying his younger sister paints for Christmas and having to serve kidney pies instead of beef for a full month afterward.

At the very least, this man would probably be able to afford books other than the ones in the first alchemist’s house.

Elias moved slower, quieter, until the sound of pacing was right before him. He placed a hand on the doorknob and started to turn it.

A strap of leather landed around his throat and tightened. Elias jerked back, clawing at his neck.

“You don’t belong here,” a reedy voice said calmly. “Guests enter through the front door.”

Elias took one step forward and sprang backward, smashing his attacker against the wall. The leather loosened, and Elias tore it away, tossing the garotte down the hall. The man behind him replaced the leather with his hands. Elias twisted in his grasp and grabbed the man’s hair. He kneed him hard in the stomach.

The man, older, gray, and fierce, recovered quickly. He slung a leg over Elias’s and pinned him to the floor. Elias flipped over, but in the struggle, the bandages on his face had gotten loose and were beginning to blind him.

Elias thrashed wildly, clawing at anything he could reach. He managed to grab the man’s hair once again and tugged hard. His captor could not suppress a cry, and footsteps charged to the door.

“Reiner? Good God, Reiner!” Large hands fisted Elias’s throat, lifting him high. The bandages fell from Elias’s face, draping loosely around his neck.

The man holding him was immense. He certainly had no need for a bodyguard like this, as he was quite able to restrain Elias well enough on his own.

But one look at Elias’s mangled face startled him enough to drop Elias immediately. He paled and he took a step back.

“I had him, Jaan,” Reiner griped, tugging his uniform sharply.