Free Soulbound by Kristen Callihan Page A

unmoving expression broke into one of pleasure. “Ah. And did you express this satisfaction to our guest?”
    “No. I left.” Eliza straightened her spine. “The very sight of him sickens me.”
    “Hmm…” Mab flicked a glance toward Mellan, who’d strolled up to her side, his gaze narrowing darkly on Eliza. However, Mellan merely gave Mab a nearly imperceptible nod and slipped past Eliza, going down to the cellars. Eliza’s heart pounded in protest. What would he do to Adam? Guilt hit hard. Adam had warned her. And she hadn’t listened.
    Mab linked her arm through Eliza’s and guided them across the hall. “There was a time,” she said, “when humans believed in the fae. They feared. Superstition wasn’t to be mocked but to be heeded. And because of that, we grew strong.”
    “Strengthened? By superstition?” Eliza couldn’t see how.
    The corners of Mab’s plump lips curled. “Superstition led to vigilance. Humans took precautions. They protected themselves from the likes of us. They thought of us constantly. Now?” Her slim shoulder raised a fraction. “Science and logic have turned us into nothing more than silly myths. Something to be ignored.” Pansy-purple eyes flashed with irritation. “And our power fades.”
    Despite her stern inner lecture not to react, a shiver ran through Eliza. Mab felt it, for she gave her a gentle, encouraging pat on the hand as they walked up the stairs, their skirts rustling. “But all that will soon change. We shall regain our glory.”
    “We shall?” Eliza wanted to keep Mab talking of things other than Adam. But she did not like the idea of Mab having any more power.
    Perhaps it was written on her face, for Mab gave her another pat. “Do not fear power, my darling. Once you learn how to wield it, it shall become your greatest joy.”
    “Mab, are you truly my grandmother?”
    Mab’s lips tightened. “The demon told you that, did he?” She sighed. “ ‘Grandmother’ makes me sound so very old.” With a moue of distaste, Mab touched her flawless cheek. “I do not look old, do I, dearest?”
    “Not at all,” Eliza murmured by rote.
    With a pleased expression, Mab shrugged. “Well, all right, then, I am your grandmother. Though I rather liked being your Auntie Mab. It had a lovely ring to it.”
    “And you are the fae queen?” Eliza pressed, as if her blood did not run cold.
    “Now that,” Mab said with a grin, “is a title I’ve been longing to proclaim. I did not want to reveal all too soon, lest you be too awed by my glory, but, yes, I am the fae queen.”
    And not a bit vain, Eliza thought with a mental roll of her eyes.
    Mab tilted her head and smiled, coy and just a bit evil. “I shall make a proper fae princess of you yet.”
    That was what Eliza feared most. But she said nothing as Mab stopped at the door to the ballroom where two young, handsome footmen in brilliant green satin livery stood at attention. “Now, your first lesson.”
    Mab gave a regal lift of her chin, and the footmen swept open the doors, revealing a glittering world of diamonds, silks, and flickering candlelight. The sickly sweet scent of lilies thickened the air, wafting out and curling around Eliza.
    “Revenge,” Mab said, “and how to exact it.”
    The crowd of richly dressed ladies and gentlemen turned as one. And as one, they all bowed in deference to Mab as she glided through the parted throng. Eliza followed; she had little choice, still snared as she was by Mab’s tight grip.
    They were all young, this crowd of people. Young and beautiful. Not a single face marred by lines or time. It ought to be pleasing to the eye, but it struck Eliza as wrong and unnatural.
They are all fae.
Her supposed people. And she wanted to run as fast as she could from them.
    Mab led her to a dais, upon which sat three large, gilded chairs. “Sit.”
    Knees shaking, Eliza did as bidden. Eyes watched her, curious, cunning. But she paid them little heed. Her mind was on