“Gone?” Eliza frowned.
“Aye. I don’t feel her anymore.” He grimaced, crimson rain mixing in his afternoon stubble. “Always I’ve felt an echo of her, like the annoying buzz of a mosquito just out of sight. Now…” He turned his attention back to the road, his profile stark. “It’s as if all is silent.”
He did not appear precisely pleased, but thoughtful. Which bothered her even more. “And Mellan? How will you fight him, when your sword has been destroyed?”
It had been an unfortunate loss, Adam’s sword. The assassin’s weapon had been fae-made and thus able to cut through Adam’s sword.
A shadow of regret fell over Adam’s face, but he spoke with calm authority. “I’m considering our options.”
“Adam.” She reached out and plucked at his arm. “Stop and explain yourself or I won’t go any farther.”
Adam reined in his horse. Wariness lined his face, hesitancy darkening his eyes. “All right. I’ll start with Mab. You’ll remember when I spoke with Lucien? And you asked me what I’d said to him?”
“Yes.” She said it tentatively because she couldn’t fathom what that had to do with anything.
As always, he read her well, and his lips curled in a half-smile. “I told Lucien to inform Augustus that St. John Evernight was blood bound to Mab’s will. I knew Augustus would seek out St. John.”
Outrage had her nearly shouting. “Why? How could you put Sin in danger —”
“If you’d let me finish,” Adam cut in placidly, though hurt darkened his eyes. She hadn’t trusted him. Again.
With a pang of guilt, Eliza gave a curt nod. She’d hear him out.
“I am trying to help him. St. John is an elemental of untold power, which is most likely why Mab acquired him in her collection.” Adam’s lips curled in distaste. “In all truth, I see myself in him, what I might have become had I been younger when Mab got her hands upon me. St. John deserves his freedom.”
“And you believe Augustus can give it to him?”
“If there is anyone who can work around Mab’s curses, it is he. But more important, Sin is a worthy soul. Augustus needs souls such as his.”
“Why? What will he do with him?”
Slowly Adam shook his head. “That I cannot tell you.”
Eliza huffed out a breath. “Cannot or will not?”
Adam’s eyes gleamed gold as he met Eliza’s gaze. “Some secrets are not mine to tell. Will you trust me, sweet dove, when I say that, if St. John goes to Augustus, he will not be harmed?”
For a moment, the only noise was that of the horse hooves clomping against the pavers, as they stood impatiently waiting to move again. And then the stiffness left Eliza’s shoulders. “Yes, Adam, I will.”
All at once, he leaned across the small divide between their horses. His lips caressed hers in a soft, melting kiss, his mouth warm and his cheeks wet with rain. “Thank you, Eliza May.” He kissed her one more time before sitting back.
Eliza smiled a bit but then wavered. “Tell me now how this has to do with Mab being destroyed.”
“Ah,” said Adam, resting a hand upon his pommel. “Mab had to be fighting mad at our evasion. She wouldn’t be thinking clearly, especially if Mellan was, as I suspect, after her as well. She’d trust that St. John would be under her complete control. Which would leave her vulnerable.”
Eliza licked her dry lips and stared down at the cobbled bricks, stained now with crimson rain. “You base all this on the hopes that Augustus will somehow enable Sin to fight Mab, and that he will win.”
“I base this on my knowledge of the situation and how best to maneuver certain players into the most probable outcome.” He turned and the strong line of his neck peaked out from his grimy collar. “Yes, there is risk involved but, using what I had, it seemed the best play to make.” A small laugh left Eliza, and he frowned at her. “Why are you amused?”
“You really cannot refrain from plotting and playing with the lives of others.”
His thick brows knitted, a dark flush coming over his high-cut cheeks. “I told you, one cannot win against the fae unless you treat it like a game of chess. Mab needed to die. I could not destroy her, so I sought a way to see the job done. And, hopefully, free a man who has been ill used.”
“Adam,” Eliza said softly, “I do not fault you for it. I simply am in awe of your working mind.”
The flush on his cheeks deepened. He sat higher in his saddle, clearing his throat. “Yes, well, that is what I hope has occurred.”
“As do I.” Eliza took a better hold of her reins but paused. “Adam? My powers are increasing. Might I have killed her?”
His lips pursed before he spoke. “Perhaps. And perhaps, had I known then that you were capable of defending yourself against a fae, I’d have planned differently.” But his bold nose lifted a bit as he eyed her slantwise. “Then again, I’m not of a mind to lose you, Eliza.”
“Oh that is rich,” she snorted, “and does it occur to you that it is not your decision to make?”
“Of course it does,” he said lightly. “Just as it is my decision to be a boorish, over-protecting, primitive male.” He arched a brow and gave her a smug look. “Have I left out any adjectives?”
“‘Smarmy’ and ‘arse’ come to mind,” Eliza muttered. “And if I do the same? If I try to protect you?”