Read Soulbound for Free Online Page B

away, his throat working. “I could not.” His pained expression returned to her. “I have watched over you as best I could.”
    The sun came out, a rare occurrence for London, its rays a harsh yellow light, and Eliza blinked away a hazy blur of frustration and hurt. “I’d have preferred the truth.”
    “I know,” he said softly. “I can only strongly suggest that you never agree to a blood vow with anyone you do not implicitly trust.”
    She made a pretense of putting on a pleasant face, but still she did not look at him. “I don’t even know what that is.”
    “You must learn our world, Eliza,” Sin murmured. “We are not like humans.”
    When she looked up swiftly, he gave her a false smile even as his tone remained serious. “You are more than half fae, even if you’ve yet to believe it. Which means you can be bound by a blood vow. I am an elemental. Thus, I too can be bound.” Sorrow lined his handsome features. “Once bound, your vow is irrevocable, no matter how much you regret it.”
    Eliza took a step away from him. “I think I’ll take a turn around the garden.” Her voice was wooden.
    He frowned. But then nodded. “I understand,” Sin whispered. “I do.”
    “No,” she ground out. “I don’t think you understand at all.”
    Loneliness smothered her as she walked along an abandoned garden path. She’d thought Sin would be her one ally in this strange new world. She thought she could trust him. Enough. She was becoming downright maudlin. “Pity is for the weak,” she whispered. Especially if that pity was applied to one’s self.
    “Yes, Eliza, it is.” The familiar masculine voice sent a shard of terror through her middle.
    Eliza whipped around, her voice lost in shock. From out of the shadows, a figure slipped. And her dread increased, her insides threatening to heave. The man was of a towering height, his hair pale blond, and his eyes a deep, endless brown. Those eyes had once smiled at her, promising her the world. And she’d believe in them, just as gullible as the endless young men who laid upon Mab’s table like offerings.
    Through dry lips, she found her voice, weak as it was. “Mellan.”
    Mellan Marbury. Leader of the Black Death gang in Boston. Now her personal nightmare. She almost let out a laugh. And here she’d thought her demon captor was a bastard. She’d clearly forgotten what true bastards were.
    His gaze, cold as ever, raked over her, lingering on her breasts, and his thin mouth curled. It was not a look of lust or even appreciation but of ownership, as though he believed he was entitled to do anything to her. Eliza did not flinch, even as her mind screamed at her to run. Gods almighty, she’d faked a death, traveled across an ocean, and he’d found her.
    Mellan tilted his head, the angle extreme, calling to mind a crow about to peck at its prey. “You do not seem happy to see me, pet.”
    She knew that tone. A fist would be accompanying his words soon enough. Eliza found she didn’t damn well care. “For once, you’ve correctly assessed my feelings, Mellan. Is it too much to hope that you’ll also turn heel and leave this instant?”
    His slow chuckle was nails against glass. “I have so missed your sense of humor, Eliza.”
    “I have no sense of humor where you are concerned.”
    His patience vanished like smoke, and he took a hard step closer. “Your constant sassing wears thin.” His teeth showed with an ugly grin. “Here on in, I’ll be taking my pound of flesh for each snide remark.”
    “I expected nothing less,” she snapped back as though her insides weren’t churning. “Only I do believe our acquaintance has come to an end.”
    “Is that what you believe?” He chuckled. “Dear girl, you know so little. It’s pitiful, really.”
    They glared at each other, laughter and the gentle murmur of conversation drifting over the garden, when the light scuff of a shoe sounded.
    “Ah, Eliza,” said Mab – her savior. Mab’s doll-like face