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It was Archer who answered. “Her spirit is not here.”
Daisy was a GIM, her spirit able to travel from her body at will. That she’d left her body should not have caused anyone concern. There had to be more. “For how long?” Sin asked.
“Going on twenty-four hours now,” said Archer.
Long but not exceedingly. Sin frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Miranda sighed. “She’s never been gone for this long, and when she left this time, she simply… collapsed.”
A strangled sound came from deep within Ian’s chest, and he pressed his head against Daisy’s breast as if it might rouse her. The intimacy of it discomfited Sin, but he could not look away.
Ian cleared his throat. “She’s been fatigued lately. Unable to stay awake.”
Which was odd. Daisy was immortal, her body stronger than three men’s. Nor did she need to sleep for as long as a human.
“The other night,” Ian went on in painful slowness, “she went milk-white, looked at me, and then…” He closed his eyes tight. “She was gone.”
“Did you see her spirit?” Sin asked, cautious now because he did not want to aggravate Ian’s lycan side. When a man was half wolf, his animal tended to lash out when threatened. But because Ian was a lycan, he was able to see spirits whereas the rest of Daisy’s family could not.
Ian shook his head, sending the sweat-damp strands of his shoulder-length hair tumbling about his face. “Which is the most frightening. She was simply gone… Christ.” He curled over Daisy once more, murmuring something in her ear while smoothing her golden curls with a trembling hand.
From below came the sound of the front door opening. Archer cocked his head and then sent Ian a look. “I believe it is Jack.” Not exactly subtle, his way of warning Ian not to attack, and Ian made a noise of annoyance.
“I know,” he murmured. “I recognize his scent just fine, thank you.” He ought to; Jack was Ian’s foster son.
A moment later, Jack entered the room, his eyes wide and worried, his massive frame taking up the whole of the doorway.
“Piss and shit,” Jack whispered as he saw Daisy. But he did not rush in; he had his wife, Mary, at his side, and she clung to him with a pale hand. No, it was Jack who clung, slowly guiding her as if she were made of spun glass. It was then Sin noticed how unsteady Mary was, her grip knuckle-white on Jack’s massive forearm.
“Let me have a look at her,” Mary said in a weak voice.
Ian leapt up and stepped aside. “Do you know what has happened? Where she might have gone?” Like Daisy, Mary was a GIM.
Mary settled on the bed beside Daisy and rested a hand directly over her heart. Daisy and Mary both had clockwork hearts made of gold. And in the tense silence of the room, it became exceedingly clear that one heart barely clicked away while the other worked hard and fast. Mary’s eyes closed, and she seemed to be gathering her strength, while Jack set a bracing hand on her shoulder. He looked as if he’d soon be ill.
Sin’s insides plummeted.
“Tell me, lass,” Ian snapped, his eyes wild.
Mary flinched. “The GIM are dying.”
It took the air out of the room.
“The youngest,” she went on in a wooden voice. “The newly made. They’re simply vacating their bodies —”
Ian howled then. The big lycan snatched his wife up and gathered her against his chest, her arms and head flopping sickly as he huddled down with her in a chair, his eyes going lupine and feral as he glared around at them, daring another to get closer.
“Da,” Jack started, but Ian snarled.
“Don’t,” he shouted. “Don’t tell me she’s dead. Her heart still beats. Her heart still beats!”
Mary made a cooing sort of noise before speaking slow and steady. “Yes, it does.”
Ian gave her a brusque nod, but he did not let Daisy go, only cupped her head to his shoulder.
Jack ran a hand through his short hair. “Some are like Daisy. Their spirits are gone but their bodies remain as if waiting. And others…” He put his hands back on Mary’s shoulders, drawing her near.
“Are weakening,” Mary said with a sad, wane look. “I… I am so very tired. Nor can I leave my body.”
“And Lucien,” Ian asked. “What says he?” Lucien was the leader of the GIM in London.
“He believes it has to do with Adam,” Jack said, and Sin’s insides lurched.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sin wanted to scream and feared he’d be sick on the carpet.
“Adam has gone missing,” Jack was saying, his voice coming at Sin as though through water. “Lucien has been trying to contact him but he’s simply disappeared.”
Sin ground his teeth together. More than anything, he wanted to tell his family of what he knew. That, acting under Mab’s orders, both he and Will Thorne had stolen Adam’s woman. That the demon Adam, creator of all GIM, was likely enraged and in some trouble with Mab – for Sin knew taking Eliza from Adam would somehow hurt the demon; otherwise Mab would not have bothered.
God, but he wanted to tell them all. And yet he was blood bound by Mab. He literally could not speak a word of it to anyone. His mouth simply would not be able to move.
Fucking hell. He did not deserve to be in this room. He was shite, a stain on a better man’s boot. Breathing between clenched teeth, he raked his nails along his scalp and fought the urge to simply run. A soft squeeze on his arm had him starting. He’d forgotten he held on to Miranda.
