Talia swayed forward with a choked cry, but the wraith brought her roughly back.
Not a trick. She was really there.
Adam’s myriad hurts vanished beneath a storm-surge of terror. The threat of Jacob’s kiss was nothing to this. In fact, nothing Jacob could do to his person scared him anymore.
Abigail had warned him that he hadn’t yet known true fear. He should have listened when he had the chance. True fear has nothing to do with what might happen to you, however painful or vile that might be. True fear is all about what might happen to someone you love.
The host canted his head toward Jacob. “I told you I don’t tolerate weapons aboard my ship.”
Jacob huffed and pulled the knife out of Adam’s side with a searing twist. “He’s tied to the chair. He can’t do anything.”
With the knife gone, the chance was lost. Panic shuddered Adam, but a glance at Talia’s white face, and he brought himself sharply under control. The only thing he had left under his power was himself. Giving in to fear would not help anything. He had to hold it together for her. Stay with her to the end.
“Are you arguing with me?” The snaking black demon flexed its menace on the host’s body.
Jacob ducked his head in sudden obedience. “Of course not.”
The host gestured, sharp and perfunctory. Jacob handed the blade to the other wraith, who released Talia and left the room. The door shut with a devastating click.
Talia dropped to the floor at Adam’s knees, her hands fluttering at his side where the blade had pierced him. Blood now seeped through his shirt, but not enough for a mortal injury; Jacob had chosen the spot too well.
Jacob grabbed a fistful of Talia’s hair to haul her upright again. She whimpered as her shoulders followed the oblique angle of her body.
Adam strained against his bonds, growling.
“Let her be,” the host said. “This will go more quickly if they have a moment together.”
Talia fell back onto Adam’s lap. Adam ached to pull her into his arms, to cover her body with his so she could be safe. No torture was more painful than Talia, weeping on his lap.
Finally she brought her shining upturned eyes to his.
Adam’s gaze fixed on hers with a million questions. Why was she here? Why wasn’t she hiding in shadow? She could do things in shadow. Escape. Save herself.
Of course she understood him. Of all the people on this earth, Talia was the only one who could really understand him.
“I couldn’t let you do it alone,” she said, her voice rasping with effort. “You should have waited for me.”
I couldn’t risk losing you.
“You should have trusted me.” Talia worked her fingers on the tape on his face.
I had to protect you. The harsh reality was that he couldn’t protect her. He’d tried everything, and still had fallen short.
“You can’t just run off to save the world whenever you want. I need you,” she said. The tape burned as she stripped it off.
“I love you,” Adam said. He needed those to be the first words out of his mouth. Something right amid so much wrong. “I had to do something.”
“You still can,” the host interrupted.
Adam brought his gaze up to the demon and his host. The host lifted a hand to Talia’s hair and wound a blonde curl around his finger.
The demon. Touching Talia.
“You’ve been a thorn in my side—” The host paused expectantly.
Adam got the joke, but he wasn’t about to laugh for a demon.
“—for some time now. I would take great satisfaction, and make significant progress in my plans, were you to join my army of wraiths.”
Dread pooled within Adam. He could see where this was going.
The host’s gaze darted back and forth between him and Talia, expressive and emoting. It seemed the man, independent of the demon, had taken an interest in the proposal that the demon used his human lips to form.
“If you accept my offer of immortality, I will give the banshee the gift of time. I will allow her off my ship. Give her a day to run and hide before I hunt for her again.”
Adam didn’t want to hear the “or.”
“Or, I will rape her now, before your eyes, and get my child on her.”
Talia clamped her hands over Adam’s ears, but too late. He’d already heard.
“No no no no no,” she croaked. “Don’t listen to him. Don’t even think about it.”
Tears streaked black makeup down the face he loved. Even with all that goth gunk, she was beautiful. So much magic in such a small package.
Adam had seen what had been done to Custo. Saw how his friend had been wrenched to death. He knew he couldn’t watch Talia be defiled before his eyes and not do something about it. The mere thought of her desecration sent excruciating pain searing through his veins.
With a painful snap, something broke inside Adam. Something vital, essential to life. Something that connected him to Talia, Segue, and his lost family. Something that set him apart from everything he loved. The demon had just effortlessly named the price of his soul.
“No no no no no.” Talia sobbed against his shoulder, seeking comfort he couldn’t, wouldn’t, give.
Adam strained his head away from her. He couldn’t bear her frantic touch, the sound of hurt in her voice. If anyone could weaken his resolve, she could, and it would take every ounce of will he possessed to do this last thing.
The host’s head cocked in an affectation of thinking. “Actually, my plan would be best served by fucking her now. Jacob could hold her down, if necessary. As much as you and your Segue have been a constant irritation—”
“—I’ll do it,” Adam interrupted, though he knew the demon was now playing with him for sport. “I’ll become a wraith.”
“No.” Talia’s voice was a sob-clogged whisper. Shadows shuddered with her surge of horror and dread. She took Adam’s head in her hands to make him face her again. To look into his eyes and compel a different answer out of him. She was already on her knees. Now she used her position to beg. Please, anything but a wraith. She could not imagine a worse fate for him than to become the thing he’d dedicated his life to destroy. She refused to be the means of his undoing.
Adam kept his chin firmly to the side, the muscles in his jaw flexing with effort, his gaze refusing to meet hers.
“Don’t do this, Adam,” she rasped. “Take it back. You can still make a different choice. They’ll find me anyway. The demon has hellhounds that can see in shadow. I can’t evade them. You’d be doing this for nothing.”
The door opened behind her. Talia could hear the dogs whine. For a moment, she thought the beasts would be brought in to demonstrate her point, but instead the host said, “I’ll need my cup,” to someone outside the small room.
“Adam, why won’t you listen to me? Please, listen to me!” For all her efforts, her voice was a harsh whisper; she could barely hear herself.
The door opened again—Talia whipped her head around to see what awful thing was next—and the cup was handed in. An old-fashioned goblet of sorts.
The host held it while the demon snake belched black tar to the brim. Talia could smell its sulfurous reek paces away. Something about the stuff echoed the tar coating her throat.
“You’ll need to drink this,” the host said to Adam, lifting the cup as if to toast.
Oh please God no.
But he obviously didn’t care. For whatever stupid, cosmic reason, neither God nor Shadowman was going to help her. Talia glanced at Adam’s inscrutable expression. She was in this nightmare alone.
Well, they couldn’t have him.
Talia stood in front of Adam’s chair and faced the demon, her feet braced for maximum stability. Over her dead body. She hoped the demon would take her challenge literally.