Page 70 of Adam, Mine

Before Elias could stop him, he snatched the book out of Elias’s hand and flipped through it quickly. Ayan snapped it closed, then stared at Elias hard with his steely-gray eyes.

Elias put his shoulders back. “German,” he said, putting a hand to his chest. “Elias.”

Ayan raised his eyebrows in exasperation. But, instead of shutting the door again, he ducked inside and palmed Elias in by the back of his head. Like his own father did when Elias was being mischievous.

The inside of Ayan’s house was extremely tidy. Despite the smoke damage on the outside, the walls in his front room were crisp white. Their dinner table across from the fire had a lace tablecloth edged in red flowers that would have been the envy of everyone in Elias’s town. Where most things would have been wood, instead the house was filled with metal. Chairs, stools, tables, all.

Crouched in front of the fire, stirring something, was a stout, curly-haired woman. Elias could hear a girl’s laughter in a room deeper into the house. It was . . . a comfort and a revelation that an alchemist could have a family. Could have a life so cozy and similar to his own.

Even Colombo, with his pretty wife, had a coldness to him. Ayan looked and lived like everyone Elias had known his whole life.

“Moira, weev a’gust,” Ayan said, tossing the book on the dinner table.

Ayan’s wife rose and turned to them. Her face was ruddy from the heat of the fire. She looked wary, but she curtsied politely.

Elias bowed in response. Then, remembering himself, he turned to Ayan and bowed as well.

Ayan just barked a loud laugh and smacked him on the back. “Well’en?”

Elias grimaced and began. “There is a boy who will come to your door . . . ,” he said in English, speaking slow and careful. “His hair is yellow and he will be nervous. His name is Victor Frankenstein and he will ask for your help. He is a fugitive from justice, exiled by the magicians of our shared country. He has made me a slave and betrayed the will of God.”

He watched as Ayan’s face slipped from amused curiosity to something stiff and sober. His eyes darted from Elias to the door, then over Elias’s shoulder. Like he was preparing to defend himself or push Elias firmly out of the house.

When Elias finished reciting, he pressed his hand to his chest again, bowed and prepared to leave. He reached out a hand for his book, but Ayan slammed a palm over it.

“No,” he said.

“No?” Elias replied, dismayed.

“Sit.”

Elias stared at Ayan.

Ayan seized Elias by the arm and tossed him roughly into a chair. Oh.

Elias wasn’t sure what was going on, but he did know three things. One: Ayan was much stronger than him and from the look of his bulging calves was probably also faster. Two: being forced to sit at a table wasn’t the worst thing that could be happening to him. Three: this was a house with a woman and child inside it, and Ayan was likely a capable fighter. Elias could not bring violence here. He desperately did not want to.

He glanced between Ayan and Moira and said nothing. Ayan was staring at his hair hard, and Elias realized that it was short enough that it would be difficult to tell exactly what color it was.

He put a hand to his head. “Braun! Braun!” he said urgently.

Somehow, Ayan must have thought Elias was describing himself—giving a threat, instead of a warning. Elias looked over his shoulder where Ayan’s eyes had been landing. To the right of the door there was a thong of leather and next to it a short blade.

“Darf ich ihnen Zeigen?” Elias said. Maybe he could show them his markings like he had Colombo.

There was no spark of understanding in the Scottish alchemist’s eyes.

Elias put a hand to his chest. “Elias Hilfiker.” He pointed out one of their foggy windows. “Victor Frankenstein.”

Ayan rushed to the window and looked outside it anxiously.

“Yewbringing imhere?” he said, furious.

Elias shook his head violently. Victor was not right outside the window. “Victor ist in Italien . . . oder vielleicht in . . . England?”

Ayan relaxed and nodded. “Englund.”

Thank God that managed to get through.