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A lock of his inky hair fell over his brow as he woodenly shook his head. “No. I made you…” A grimace twisted his mouth. “Less than.”
Eliza sat up, her mouth agape. Still he would not face her. With a cold hand, she turned him toward her. Defiance was there in his gaze, and regret.
“Less than,” she repeated, shaking. She ought not to care. Why, then did she feel let down?
“Aye,” he said with clear reluctance. “I gave your body life anew, but you cannot roam in spirit. Nor are you immortal.” He winced once again. “You can die, Eliza.”
Eliza rose from his lap, her legs stiff, her chest aching. He let her go, tracking her movements but not standing. He simply sat upon the dirt, regal as a king, and waited for her ire. Well, he would have it.
“You made me vulnerable to death so you could hold the promise of life over me, didn’t you?”
A bare nod. “That I did.”
The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth before she realized she’d bitten her lip. A rough laugh tore from her. “Oh, well played, sir. And you accuse the fae of being manipulative. Forgive me if I choke on the hypocrisy.”
Adam sighed, but he did not try to defend himself. Which made it worse. She wanted his fight. Wanted to hate him. Because she felt too much for him now. The thought of needing him terrified her.
Her feet slapped over the cold, hard earth as she paced away from him before whirling back. “I’d call you a rotten bastard, but what difference would it make?”
“Would you rather I had made you GIM?” he asked with quiet earnestness.
“I’d rather you had not used me as a pawn. I’ve had enough of that in my life.”
Still as a lion, he blinked at her. “I told you, Eliza, you were the answer to all my hopes and dreams, to my freedom. I would have done anything to safeguard it. That I went about it the wrong way cannot change the past.”
“And now?” she snapped. “Is all this” – she waved a hand between them – “kindness and care merely another bid to secure my affection?” God, he’d been succeeding. Far too well.
His body was moving grace as his long limbs unfolded and he stood tall before her. The breadth of his shoulders blotted out the moon, leaving him limned in silvery light. “Truth, Eliza?”
She nodded, and he took a step closer. Beneath thick, straight brows his gaze burned. “In truth, I want you so badly, the mere thought of you is a hand around my cock.”
A strangled sound left her, but he wasn’t finished. “I want to sink into your quim and call it home. To learn the taste and texture of your skin, and then do it all over again. Is it because you are my soul mate? I do not know. I bloody well don’t care. All I know is that I want this ache” – his fist hit the wall of his chest with a thud – “this need to abate. Will bedding you quench my thirst? I cannot tell you, but I’ll gladly put that question to the test.”
The way he looked at her, so fierce and angry yet pleading, it licked over her skin like fire. He was too far away. And too close. She wanted to ease his tension, to rub her hands over those broad shoulders and down his bunched biceps. And she wanted to escape. He’d manipulated her, left her vulnerable to his will, all for his own selfish gain.
She took one step, and her foot sank into a pile of something soft and loamy. Eliza gave a start and glanced down. The substance was dark grey and scattered as her foot disrupted it.
“What…”
Adam blanched, his hand reaching out to draw her away from the mess. “Ashes. Fae.”
Eliza shuddered. God, and it was all over her feet. She rubbed her soles over the grass, her skin creeping. “There was a fae here?”
“A male.” Adam’s voice was as tight as his grip on her elbow.
She closed her eyes for a moment. A blur of images went through her mind. Love. She’d been surrounded by love and adoration. Cool brushes of air. It had been the spirits. They’d done her bidding. In her mind’s eye, she saw Adam in danger, his face frozen in horror as he stared at her. Eliza’s eyes snapped open. “I killed him.” For you.
His chest lifted on a deep breath. And when he faced her, wariness and dread darkened his golden eyes. “You may not have been able to kill the supernatural before, dove.” His expressive lips pinched. “But tonight, you commanded the dead to kill for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
If someone had once told Eliza that hell would be found in a quaint and cozy country cottage, she would have laughed. Now it was all she could do not to cry. The cream plaster walls pressed in on her, while the rough-hewn timbers supporting the ceiling seemed to sag as if they’d break at any moment. Flights of fancy. As was the feeling of her bed being made not of fine feathers but hard rocks. Yet she could not find peace from her restless, hateful mood.
She’d killed a supernatural being tonight. If she closed her eyes, she could replay the events. The power, the mad laughter that wracked her body. It had felt so very… good. As if she’d waited the whole of her life to embrace the full extent of her power and use it.
Stranger still, in the midst of that tempest, at the very moment she’d turned and met the fae’s eyes, she’d thought of one thing: to protect. The fae had been poised to kill Adam. Did her defense of Adam make it right? She could hardly think it so. Nor did that excuse her from all that she’d done before. Was she evil? How could she deny it in the face of all the evidence?
