Her fine green eyes, the same shade as his, looked up at him with gentle compassion. He looked away.

“Poppy and Win are on their way home,” she told Jack. Poppy was the eldest sister and the leader of the SOS, a society who guarded the supernatural world. She and her husband, Winston, had been on holiday in Egypt.

Ian snorted. “Not much they can do.”

“No,” agreed Archer. “But Poppy wanted to be here…” He grimaced. In the event that Daisy died.

Ian’s nostrils flared, but he looked to Jack and Mary. “I want you both living here until we understand what is happening. The lass needs rest and you” – Ian stared pointedly at Jack – “organize the lycan. They can see spirits, aye? Well, they can damn well search this bloody city for Daisy.”

Jack nodded. “The SOS is doing all they can to get to the bottom of this.” Jack and Mary were directors in the SOS. “I’ve regulators working round the clock…” Jack trailed off, his expression frustrated. It was clear that all their efforts had been for naught.

No one looked to Sin. Why should they? They believed him nothing more than a frivolous young man. They never entertained the idea that he was their greatest traitor.

Eliza was not certain how she knew something had entered her room, but awareness stole over her skin like a hand slipping into a tight glove. All at once, her body tensed and her breathing grew short. The covers hissed over her frame as she abruptly sat up and took stock of the room Mr. Brown had provided her. Pale blue moonlight gave the room a ghostly glow, making what was once innocuous chairs and tables appear to be squat and sinister beasties.

“Fluff and stuff,” she muttered, perspiration cooling her brow. But her pulse beat hard against her throat.

And then she spotted it. A spirit. The lady moved from her perch upon Eliza’s writing chair and glided forward. She was a lovely creature, all rounded curves and winsome features. And though she was transparent, her golden curls and the deep green of her fashionable gown were easy to discern. The woman’s lips moved as she walked. She was talking to Eliza.

Eliza held up a hand. “I cannot hear you.”

At this, the woman’s wide blue eyes narrowed in both confusion and irritation. She made to talk again, this time moving her arms with emphatic motions.

“I still cannot hear. I’m sorry.” Eliza frowned. The woman was familiar. Just the sight of her caused Eliza’s innards to lurch. And then she knew. “You… You’re one of the women who tried to save me.”

Two women had appeared and fought off her killers with skill that she’d thought only men possessed. The blonde woman was named Daisy. She’d been the one to call forth Adam. And then it had all gone wrong.

As though she were corporeal, Daisy settled herself at the end of the bed.

“Why are you here?” Eliza asked, then flushed when Daisy scowled and gestured from her mouth to Eliza’s ear. Right, she couldn’t tell her. Eliza settled back against her pillows and regarded her guest. Perhaps she ought to resent Daisy. The woman had led her to Adam after all, but she had also tried to save her. Daisy had clearly been shocked by Adam’s treatment of her, that much Eliza had seen before he’d placed her in some odd sort of spiritual limbo. Daisy hadn’t been in contact with her until now.

“Are you in need of something?”

Daisy’s shoulders lifted on a silent sigh, and she nodded. Sadness seemed to weigh her down and darkened her spirit’s light, making the lines of her body fainter.

Eliza worried the corner of her lower lip. “I can’t imagine what I could do for you. Why not seek me out tomorrow? You know, in the flesh?”

Daisy made a face, and Eliza bit back a smile, but it faded as their gazes clashed and a realization stole over Eliza. “You cannot use your body?”

Slowly Daisy shook her head, fear and sorrow filling her lovely eyes, and her form faded even more. Eliza reached out, ready to hold her hand, when she remembered Daisy was a spirit. “Why come to me?” she asked her. “I cannot do anything to help. I’m not even a GIM.”

Squaring her shoulders, Daisy leaned close and carefully enunciated one word: Adam. Eliza saw it clearly upon her lips, and she went cold.

“Adam?” she repeated, just to be clear.

Daisy nodded.

“He’s asleep in the other room.” Guilt and shame hit Eliza anew as she remembered Adam toppling to the floor. What would Daisy think of Eliza’s part in her creator’s captivity? Or if she learned of what Mellan wanted Eliza to do? Then Eliza decided she did not care; she had her reasons. But Daisy was weakening by the second, her shape flickering in and out as though shadows moved through her body. Her round face scrunched up with concentration. Frantic now, the spirit shook her head, waving a hand over her eyes and ears and then pointing down to the ground.

Following this strange pantomime, Eliza spoke slowly. “You’ve tried to… He doesn’t see you, does he?”

One sharp, pained nod.

Eliza slumped back. “He said he’d lost his power.”

Daisy simply stared, her diaphanous body growing pale, whispery white. Her mouth worked more words: Help him.

“I am.” As much as she could.

Desperation and terror twisted Daisy’s pretty face into a macabre mask. And as she flickered out of existence, she said her last word. Please.

Chapter Eleven

As with every moment of his new and miserable life, pain coursed through Adam’s body, making it throb. Even in the dark, he recognized the pain, as if it had become an extension of himself. However, something was different. Softness cradled him, and warmth enveloped him. It felt so bloody good that he did not want to move for fear it was a dream. It had to be. Or perhaps one of Mab’s tricks, a new method of torture.