“Am I no longer granted a private audience with my own family?” The hurt and irritation in Sin’s voice was clear. “I’ll go,” Thorne offered. It was kind of him. Right of him. “No,” she said. “I need you here.” She was unhinged in ways she couldn’t yet analyze, but that much was tru.

She needed him close to her tonight or she’d go mad. Thorne’s gaze went soft, then hot. “Then you shall have me.” Sin scoffed. “Bloody perfect.” Holly turned her attention back to him. “I’m sorry, darling. If you’d rather speak to me alone tomorrow, we can do that.” Sin paused, his mouth turning down at the corners. “Were you hurt tonight? Are you well?” “I’m fin.

Only tired.” And she was. Every day, exhaustion built within her, and that strange, pained weight grew within her flesh. Thorne squeezed her hand but kept silent. With an awkward nod, Sin opened his mouth, but then closed it before sitting back upon the chair. “It’s about Eliza May.” Holly went very still. She hadn’t forgotten her lost cousin, but she had not told Sin about what had happened to her either. “What do you know of Eliza?” His green eyes narrowed, catlike and glowing celadon green in the firelight. “More than you, to be sure.” “Who,” Thorne cut in, “is Eliza May?” “A distant cousin,” Holly answered. “Come over from America last year. She met a bad end of sorts with a bunch of roughs.” “Aye,” added Sin. “And now she’s with that sod, Adam.” Holly’s brows lifted in surpris.

“And just how do you know this?” Sin grew very interested in the damask pattern covering the chair. “There are things I cannot say. Not,” he hurried on, “because I don’t want to, but because I literally cannot.” “Sin.” Holly grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. “Are you in trouble? Danger? I cannot think anything less when you say such things. Tell me that, at the very least.” He gave her a squeeze in return. “No, Holly berry. I’m not in danger. But Eliza is. And I need to help her.” Thorne held up a hand as he leaned forward, his gaze cutting between Holly and Sin. “Let me see if I have this straight. Adam, the creator of all the GIM, an immortal of unknown origin and unknown weaknesses, has absconded with your cousin, and you want to hunt him down and take her back?” “That is the short of it,” Sin said tightly. Thorne snorted, running a hand through his flowing hair. “Oh, well that’s bloody good. Good luck to you, lad.” Holly shot him a quelling look before turning to Sin. “How do you intend to help her?” “We need to… no, you, with your great big brain box, must figure out a way to contact Adam. To demand to see Eliza.” “Oh, bloody hell,” Thorne bit out in exasperation. “You want to draw her into this? Are you bamming me?” The room heated at an alarming rat.

“Hush,” Holly snapped, before sitting back with a huff. “Why haven’t you asked Daisy for help? She is your sister and a GIM.” “Even if she wanted to, she’d be unable to call him. The GIM literally cannot call Adam forth unless it is to his benefit. Considering that I intend to take away his new prize, I don’t think he’d come.” Sin sighed. “You, however, are an elemental. And I’m only asking for your help to call him forth.” “You think I can contact one of the most powerful known demons, who just so happens to live in another plane of bloody existence?” Holly laughed, but there was little humor in it. “I’m inventive, not a miracle worker.” Sin’s mouth flattened to a thin lin.

“But I was told that only you could… You have to, Holly. You simply do.” “Why must I?” She rose to her feet, the fear in Sin’s voice making her chest tighten. “What aren’t you telling me, St. John?” He seemed to deflat.

“I made a blood vow to see her returned home.” A blood vow. Which meant should he fail, he’d be the property of whoever he’d made the vow to. Thorne muttered under his breath, and Holly rather wanted to join him. “Look, all I know is that it has to be you. Don’t ask me for details,” Sin said, “because I can’t tell you.” “No, I don’t suppose you can.” If the blood vow forbade him, he’d literally be unable to say a word. Who in the bloody hell had he made this vow to? And why? Holly had no way of knowing. “It’s for a good cause, isn’t it?” His expression was mulish, defiant. The little idiot. “At what cost?” Holly snapped, then sighed. “All right, yes. I want to see Eliza home too.” Sin’s entire body seemed to sigh with relief. “Thank you, Holly.” Thorne, on the other hand, sat up straight. “You are both barmy. You cannot make an enemy of Adam. He will never let you live.” Thorne turned on her, his fangs extended and his eyes burning. “After all we went through to keep you safe, you cannot do this. I won’t let you.” Holly had a great deal to say about what William Thorne could do with his grand edicts. He’d soon learn that he would not be ordering her about. But he’d suffered for her this night. He’d suffered due to her sins for a year. So she held her tongue for now and simply rested a hand upon his arm. “I’m not doing anything at the moment. And we’ll sort this out in the morning,” she added when Sin voiced a protest. “When this is through, St. John, we’re going to have words, you and I.” He glared back. “Fine.” Sin winced. “There’s more.” “Here we go.” Thorne tossed up a hand in exasperation. And they both glared at him. Sin recovered first. “Thorne’s involved… somehow.” Thorne snapped to attention. “The bloody hell—” “I don’t know how,” Sin explained. “But my… that is…” He grimaced, clearly fighting to find a way around the blasted blood vow. “They know about him and seem to find his presence here very… shit… they approve! They’ve been pushing you two together.” He’d broken out into a sweat and swayed until he braced himself against the arm of the chair. With a shaking hand, he wiped his brow. “Oh, Sin.” Holly ached that he’d bound himself, for whatever reason, and that he could only feed her crumbs. “Holly—” his voice sounded weak and rough—“they believe you and Thorne are the key.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I don’t like it.” Thorne strode into Holly’s bedroom moments after her and slapped a hand upon the bedpost. The steel supports clanged at the hit. “Nor I.” Bone tired, Holly pulled the pins from her hair. Her head ached and sat heavily upon her tender neck. Undeterred, Thorne raised an imperious brow. Times such as these, she could see the aristocrat he might have been. “It is the height of insanity to antagonize Adam.” More pins slipped from her hair. “I agree.” “Then you’ll refuse to help your cousin?” Her hair ambled free of its bun in a curtain of relief. “I didn’t say that.” “Damn it, Holly!” Thorne slapped the bedpost again. “I cannot—” “Do you wonder,” Holly said softly, for her head throbbed, “who talked Sin into a blood vow?” Deflating a bit, Thorne glanced off towards the fire crackling in the grat.

“Yes. And I wonder…” He looked at her with dark eyes. “Nan tells me your family is related to the fae.” “Nan and her tales,” Holly muttered, annoyed for she knew the cagey housekeeper would love nothing more than to scare Thorne off. “If the fae had any interaction with my family, it was hundreds of years ago, for I’ve never seen them.” “Back when the earth was flat, eh?” The corners of Thorne’s eyes crinkled. “Just so,” Holly said with a smile of her own. “It isn’t easy for the fae to travel into our world. They must pass through as sprit and then create a corporeal body once her.

It takes a great deal of power. Not to mention that those crossroads are well protected, as the reality of fae coming en masse into our world would be catastrophic.” Fae were powerful and would subjugate all those weaker than they were, which included not only humans but also a great deal of demons and elementals. Old superstitions had Holly wanting to shudder, but she pushed that back by remembering cool logic. “Luckily, only a catastrophic, magical event, far more rare than the fae themselves, can open the crossroads long enough to let them in.” “Amaros came here because of a catastrophic event,” Thorne reminded her. “Does it not stand to reason that the fae might have taken similar advantage?” “Damn. I suppose you have the right of it.” Holly sat and removed her shoes. The satin heels landed with a thud on the carpet. “If you are related to the fae,” Thorne continued, “then, by logic, Eliza May is also their kin.” It made sens.

And it made Holly’s heart grow cold. Fae were mercurial beings. For them, everything had a price, and they often requested favors, usually to the extreme detriment of those with whom they bargained. The sane avoided contact with them at all costs. “So here we have Nan insisting the fae wanted me to be your champion.” The long lines of Thorne’s body were taut. “Then someone either paid or bargained with the Alamut to let me go tonight.” His eyes met hers. “And now your cousin shows up asking for help to release Eliza May?” The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he gave a small shake of his head. “It is too much of a coincidence for me.” “And me,” Holly agreed. Gads, but her body ached. She ran a hand through her hair. “We’ll have to talk to Sin—” Thorne was suddenly at her side, kneeling in front of her and taking her hand. “What is this?” Horror lit his expression. “What is what?” “This!” He lifted her arm. “Your bloody arm is platinum!” Holly’s vision wavered as she spied the thick swath of platinum running from her elbow to her underarm. Cold fear and an odd sense of finality pressed upon her insides. She let her arm fall to her lap. “Well.” “ ‘Well?’ ” Thorne jumped to his feet. “That is all you have to say?” “What ought I say?” The truth was, she didn’t want to talk, or to think. “I don’t know.” Thorne raked his hands through his hair. “But something other than ‘well.’ ” How irritating that Thorne had suddenly become the logical one, wanting to suss out every problem. Holly bit her lip and refused to answer. Which made Thorne growl. “Do not dare try to sweep this under the rug, Holly. Not when we both know what is happening.” Past patience, Thorne lifted his hand, displaying a thin band of shining platinum wrapped around his ring finger. “Is that—” Holly began. “Your hair. And mine.” Thorne stomped over to the fire, sneered at it, and stomped back towards her. “Like a fool, I held onto some wild hope that this one hair was an anomaly. Yet I am stabilizing, while you’re growing worse!” “I had a suspicion that might be the case.” She tried to say this calmly but it didn’t ease him. Thorne reached her in a step and clasped her upper arms in a tight grip. The heat of his hands made her skin prickl.

“Why is it happening?” Holly searched his face, hating the pain and fear she saw in his eyes, hating that she could not fix this. “I do not know.” They stared at each other for a long moment, Thorne’s throat worked on a swallow, and then he let her go with a snarl. He paced away, his boot heels clicking on the floorboards. “Bloody f**king hell.” He glared down at his hands, spreading his fingers wide as if they held the answers. Holly sagged against the chair. A thought occurred to her, one she did not favor. “I think…” She took a deep, pained breath. “I think that perhaps we are bonding.” His head jerked up, and he looked at her with sharp eyes of silver and onyx. “Bonding?” It was a quiet query, but there was something almost hopeful in his voic.

With cold fingers, Holly clutched the arm of the chair. “Symbiosis. In biological terms, it means simply the living together of unlike organisms. In this case…” God, she didn’t want to say it, but the concept was the most logical conclusion she could formulat.

“In this case…” Thorne prompted, peering at her warily. A spasm of pain shot through her heart. “In this case,” she said, forcing herself to hold his gaze, “it is a parasitic connection.” Thorne reared back as if she’d stuck him. “Parasitic?” His voice was thin, cold. And she recalled how sanguis were often accused of being parasites, feeding off the life force of others to surviv.

It was one of the greatest insults one could use on them. “In a fashion,” she managed, though her throat constricted. “One organism benefits at the cost of the other. Your mind gains control through the use of my power. Thus it demands it more and more.” He went utterly white, the rivers of platinum upon his neck standing out in sharp, shining contrast. His mouth moved to speak but the words were slow to follow. “I am a parasite to you?” Oh, William. Her vision wavered before she quickly blinked. “It is merely a term. Not how I think of you. There was no way to foresee this result.” He knelt before her, his thighs moving between her knees as far as her skirts would allow. “But the fact remains, I am draining your power, your strength, to gain mine.” Like an asp he struck, grasping a wavering tendril of her unbound hair. His jaw worked as he held it up between them. Pure, gleaming strands of platinum glinted within the dark locks, as if they were winking. “You are turning into me.” Unwilling to see the self-disgust and pain in his eyes, she lowered her lids, her throat sore and her heart unbearably heavy. She wrapped her fingers around his. “All is not lost.” It was something her parents often said, taught to them by theirs. Evernights did not give up. Ever. “I will find a solution.” A strangled sound left Thorne’s lips, and his arms wrapped around her waist as he burrowed his head into her lap. “Holly,” he whispered, his breath warm against the fabric of her skirts. He gripped her tighter, his touch almost that of a frightened boy, and she instinctively leaned over him, her fingers threading through his silken hair as her free arm wrapped about his shoulders. They sat in silence, holding on to each other, both shivering despite the warmth in the room. After a long, heavy moment, he stirred, turning his head to rest his cheek upon her thigh. Holly’s fingers trembled only a little as she traced the line of his temple, brushing back errant strands of his hair. He merely blinked slowly, as if stuck in a fog, and toyed with the dark fringe on her overskirt with the tip of one finger. She felt the touch, his power, all the way to her bones. When he spoke, his voice swept over her like a caress. “I am your creature.” “No.” She could not bear it if she had to think of him in that manner. A small smile curled his mouth but he did not move from his place on her lap. “I am. Wholly.” The tip of his finger moved to her waist where she was slightly ticklish. Her skin prickled as he traced along her sid.