Blood Bond

by Shannon K. Butcher

  They couldn’t wait here. The smell of her blood would draw demons to them. And she needed more medical attention than he could provide in this too-public rest stop. There weren’t many people here, but there were a few truckers in the second parking lot, and plenty of traffic on the interstate. Some nosy driver could see something suspicious and come investigate at any moment. If that happened, Ronan would have to use the precious power he’d gained from Justice’s blood to send them away with no memory of the event.

  He didn’t have enough strength to waste even a drop—not until he was sure Justice was going to be okay.

  Ronan picked up Justice’s limp body. A bloody paper sack fell out of her back pocket, but he didn’t stop to see what was in it. He set her in the back of his van on top of a narrow, waterproof mattress. This wasn’t the first time he’d had a bloody patient to tend, and cleanup was far easier when one took a bit of precaution.

  Her beautiful face was lifeless and slack. The hot vitality she normally exuded was gone, leaving her looking far too young and helpless—too weak—which didn’t suit her at all.

  He couldn’t let her die. No matter what it took, he was going to nurse her back to health until she was strong enough to battle monsters singlehandedly again.

  Maybe this time she wouldn’t bash his head in with a flashlight just so she could escape his company.

  He looked at the terrified child and offered her a smile. “Come with me. Everything is going to be okay now.” He powered the words with a trace of reassurance and a desire to trust him.

  The last thing he needed was for the child to run off covered in smears of Justice’s blood. Not only would she draw human attention he didn’t want, she’d also draw the attention of any hungry demons in the area.

  The child got out of the car and came around to stand beside him.

  “Get in and sit down,” he said.

  She did as he asked.

  Ronan closed the van’s door and started an IV to feed Justice the fluids she so desperately needed. He fastened thick woven straps over her body to keep her from rolling around, and to make sure that if she woke, she wouldn’t fling herself out into traffic just to get away from him. Once that was done he moved Justice’s overnight bag from her car into his.

  Ronan called Dabyr as he wiped off his hands and pulled a clean shirt from the store of clothing he kept in the van. Nicholas, an unbound Theronai and all-around tech guru, was manning the phones.

  “I need someone to come fetch a Maserati,” Ronan said as he stripped off his bloody coat and shirt.

  “Why? Did you kill a speed demon?” Nicholas’s deep voice lilted with good humor. After all the man had been through, he’d managed to hold onto the core part of himself that could still laugh.

  Ronan had no idea how he managed such a magical feat.

  “I found Justice,” he said as he wiped the blood from his long, black leather coat as well as a few smudges on his chest where it had soaked through his shirt.

  “The concept, or the woman you’ve been chasing after for weeks?”

  “The woman. She’s injured. Lots of blood. Public place. I need to get her away from here before any demons show up.”

  Nicholas’s tone went serious. “I see your location. I’ll send Slade and Vance that way now. Leave the keys.”

  “But they’re human.”

  “I know. But Joseph has ordered all the sword arms to stay close to home until the babies are born. He’s not taking any chances with a surprise attack.”

  Nika’s child was the first offspring of a Theronai couple to be born in two centuries. The baby was due any day. Iain and Jackie’s child would come soon after. No one wanted to take any risks with either mother or the children. Nearly every fighter available was poised inside Dabyr, ready to defend the newborns with their lives.

  “I understand,” Ronan said. “But there’s blood. I had to break the window to reach Justice, and it’s only a matter of time before demons smell it.”

  Nicholas grunted in agreement. “I’ll make sure the boys know that they need to proceed with caution. They’ve both been training a lot and aren’t half-bad with a sword.”

  “They’re still human. The car isn’t worth their lives.”

  “Seeing as how they’re young twenty-somethings and said car is a Maserati, I’m not sure they’d agree, but I’ll give them a stern warning.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you coming home?” Nicholas asked.

  “As soon as Justice is stable. And I’ll be bringing a child as well.”

  “A child?”

  Ronan pulled on the clean shirt and buttoned it. “I don’t know who she is or why Justice has her, but until I do, I’ll keep the girl close.”

  “Good luck. Safe travels.”

  Ronan hung up.

  He caught the mistrustful gaze of the little girl. She sat on the floor by Justice’s head, petting her curls as if she were a beloved puppy.

  Ronan stretched out his arm toward her. “Take my hand,” he ordered with a faint wisp of compulsion.

  The child put her chubby fingers in his, and as soon as she did, he sent a thin tendril of himself winging through her limb and into her mind.

  The blood covering her clothes wasn’t hers. She had been terrorized, but not physically harmed. She’d seen her mother die, though she had no understanding of what death meant. She’d been forcefully taken by a man with blurry features under a baseball hat. He’d shouted at her and scared her. She remembered something about him telling her she had to be good on their trip, that he was taking her somewhere fun.

  Even at the tender age of four, she still hadn’t believed the killer.

  Ronan couldn’t figure out where the young man had taken her or why, but as soon as the child’s memory lit on Justice’s beautiful face, she’d thought she was meeting a princess.

  The girl was jerked away bodily by the princess. Then there was more gunfire and screaming. The child was shoved into a car. After that, she saw nothing until the sound of breaking glass woke her.

  Whoever she was, Ronan wasn’t going to learn why she was here until Justice woke.

  “You’re going to come with me now,” he told her gently. “I’ll make sure the bad men can’t find you again. Buckle up. We’re going to take the princess somewhere safe.”

  The child nodded and did as she was told.

  Ronan left the bloody Maserati behind and merged onto the highway headed west.

  The little girl had buckled herself into the passenger’s seat, since there were none in the open back of the van. He didn’t know if she was big enough to be riding up here without a booster seat, but it was the best he could manage under the circumstances.

  Her little feet stuck out straight. One of her sparkly pink shoes was missing, the other untied.

  “I’m Ronan. What’s your name?”

  “Pepper.”

  “Is that your last name or your first?”

  “Pepper Louise Sullivan. That’s all my names, but don’t say them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it will make you mad. Mama always gets mad when she says all my names.”

  A twitch of a smile played about his mouth. He checked the rearview mirror to glance at Justice.

  Blood smeared her chin. Her smooth skin was waxy and sallow. Even so, she was still the most beautiful woman—human or otherwise—he’d ever seen.

  He wanted to stare at her and drink her in, but Pepper pulled his attention back to the road.

  “How many times can Mama die?” the girl asked.

  Ronan glanced at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “I can die three times in my game before I have to wait to wake up. How long will Mama have to wait to wake up?”

  His heart squeezed hard, leaving a dull ache in his chest. This poor girl had seen her mother die but didn’t realize it was forever.

  He was going to have to explain it to her soon, but for now he’d let her hold onto her ch
ildish hope that her life as she knew it would somehow miraculously keep going on as it had been. These were the last few moments of peace she’d have before reality crushed her spirit under its heel, and he was going to let her have them.

  “Do you know why you’re here, Pepper?”

  “Because you told me to get in. Your van is bigger than Mama’s. Where did your chairs go?”

  “I’m like a doctor,” he said. “This is my doctor’s office. I had to take out the seats to make room.”

  She wrinkled her nose at that. “You don’t look like a doctor. Where are your glasses?”

  “We don’t all wear glasses.”

  “Oh. Ok.” She wiggled her sparkly shoe.

  He drove a few miles down the road and parked outside a nearly abandoned outlet mall.

  It was fully dark now, with only the orange glow of security lights slipping through his front windows. The back of the van was lightless out of necessity so he could sleep in here if there was no other shelter to be found.

  “After this, can we have dinner?” Pepper asked.

  “You’re hungry?”

  She nodded. “The bad man said I was loud so I couldn’t have lunch.”

  Ronan found a granola bar and a bottle of water and gave them to her. “I need to help Justice now. You stay in your seat and eat, okay?”

  She nodded and ripped the foil wrapper open with her teeth. As she did, her sleeve shifted and he saw a ring-shaped birthmark on her wrist.

  Shock rippled through him, but he kept it from showing on his face. Years of keeping secrets had taught him to control his expression as well as the best poker players on the planet.

  This tiny child was a female Theronai—a rare and precious creature that had the power to save countless lives.

  If she lived long enough to do so.

  At least now he knew why bad men wanted her. In the wrong hands, she could be a formidable weapon. In worse hands, she was simply a rich source of food and power.

  And in the worst hands…there were unspeakable things that could happen to a girl her age if the demons got their claws on her. Ronan had seen it before.

  Little Tori had been taken when she was eight and fed toxic blood that altered her body so she would be capable of carrying the offspring of Synestryn. She’d spent a decade in the dark, poisoned, starved, tortured and raped. When his people finally found her, she was no longer a sweet, little girl. She was violent, bloodthirsty.

  His kind had spent gallons of precious blood in an effort to fix her. Cleanse her body. Heal her mind. Every effort failed because there wasn’t enough left of the girl she’d once been to save. She was twisted and dark. Irrevocably broken.

  She’d been sent away to another world for her own safety as well as that of the innocents living at Dabyr.

  As far as Ronan was concerned, even that distance wasn’t far enough.

  He looked at Pepper and made himself a silent promise to keep this child from the same fate. Whatever it took.

  “You will be my lookout,” he told her. “If you see anyone coming toward us, tell me right away.”

  She nodded around a mouthful of granola.

  Ronan slipped into the back of the van to check on Justice.

  Her pulse was stronger and slower, thanks to the fluids. She was going to need more, but it was a start.

  He laid a hand on her forehead and sought out her mind.

  The feel of her skin under his fingers was its own kind of magic. How often had he dreamed about being close enough to her to touch her? She was so smooth and soft on the outside, which warred with her prickly temper and complete lack of trust.

  He would have been content to spend the night tracing his fingers over her skin, but that wasn’t going to heal her. He had to focus, no matter how much he ached to get lost in the smooth softness of her body.

  Ronan gathered himself and sent a trickle of himself into her mind to check on her.

  Lethargy and confusion still swamped her thoughts, but she was drifting quickly upward, out of the thick swamp of unconsciousness.

  He needed to get rid of the bloody clothes—hers and Pepper’s. Until he did, the scent could draw countless nasties to them. And while he was now strong enough to take on a small number of demons, he didn’t want to waste the energy he needed to heal in battle.

  He undid the restraints holding her on the mattress, unlaced her leather combat boots and pulled them from her feet. They went into a black trash bag, along with her bloody socks. He tried to keep a professional distance as he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her long, curvy legs, but the task proved to be impossible.

  She was simply too beautiful. He couldn’t put her in the untouchable category of patient, but rather she stayed firmly fixed in place as his deepest, darkest fantasy.

  He eased off her jacket then extended a claw and sliced away her shirt, rather than jostle her to remove it over her head. Before he could strip the bloody fabric out from under her, she opened her eyes and grabbed his hand.

  Pale, silvery-green eyes stared up at him in shock and anger. “Don’t.”

  Her voice was weak, but the look of challenge she gave him was anything but.

  “It’s okay. I’m just getting rid of the blood,” he said, flicking a glance to the front seat where Pepper sat munching on her snack. “The demons will smell it and come for her.”

  Justice’s grogginess seamed to fade from one instant to the next. She sat up and took in her surroundings in a sweeping glance.

  “Where are we?”

  “Not far from the rest stop where you passed out.”

  “I need to go. Take me back to my car. Now.”

  “You’re in no shape to drive. Or make demands.”

  Her grip on his wrist tightened. Her voice was quiet but filled to the brim with the promise of violence. “Listen, bloodsucker. Either drive me back to my ride, or I’ll shove you out in the dark and take yours. Your choice.”

  “I saved your life, and healed your wounds, and this is how you thank me?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. The grip on his shirt loosened and she leaned back against the wall of the van. “You should have let me die. I was so close to escaping this bullshit.”

  The child stared at them with wide eyes. Her mouth went slack and a chunk of oats fell from the corner.

  Ronan gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s just a game we play. Don’t worry. She’s not really mad.” That last bit was laced with a strand of compulsion meant to ease Pepper’s nerves and calm her fear.

  She nodded and started chewing again.

  He jerked his hand free from Justice’s grasp and pulled the light-blocking curtains closed. It wouldn’t do much to block sound, but at least the child didn’t have to see the defeated look on her princess-turned-rescuer’s face.

  “You don’t mean that,” Ronan told Justice. “Tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”

  Her breasts swelled beneath her modest bra as she sucked in a resigned breath. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

  “Why do you have the child?”

  “Hell if I know. I haven’t been told yet.”

  “Told by whom?”

  She closed her eyes. “No idea.”

  “Where did you find her?”

  “Some asshole was selling her to some guys I know.”

  “Selling her?”

  “Yeah. I knew they were lowlife scumbags, but I didn’t know how low. Guess I’ll need to kill Chester Gale now. No way I can let him live.” That last part was delivered with the kind of sigh meant to accompany a distasteful chore, like mopping up a after a leaking toilet, or cleaning up the mess left from a broken trash bag.

  “Who are they? What did they want with her?”

  She let go of his wrist and waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with it.”

  “You’re in no shape to deal with anything. And we really do need to get rid of those bloody clothes. You need to change.”


  Ronan cleaned his hands on a wet wipe, then pushed her overnight bag toward her.

  “You brought my clothes?” Her tone was skeptical, mistrusting.

  “Would you rather wear mine?”

  Instead of answering his question, she motioned toward her arm and the tube feeding fluids into it. “You should know that human drugs won’t work on me.”

  The idea that she knew that bizarre fact posed more questions than it answered.

  “There are no drugs in the bag. Just saline,” he said.

  She started picking at the tape holding her IV in place. “So this raging headache I have going is all my own, huh?”

  “Dehydration. It will pass if you leave the IV in. So will some of your weakness.”

  Another heavy sigh burst out of her and she slumped back against the wall, eyes closing.

  Ronan couldn’t help but stare at her body. Even with the bloody bra and panties, even with smears of sticky rust staining her smooth, dark skin, she was stunning.

  She was all long and lean, like a predatory cat. Smooth, slender lines curved into sinuous shapes that drew his eye to the swell of her breasts and the shadows between her thighs. Curving, feminine muscles hugged her frame, lending another layer of beauty and intrigue.

  She was built like a warrior maiden of old, hard where she had to be and soft everywhere else. She bore a few scars to mar the perfection of her skin—including puncture wounds at her neck that he’d inflicted but had never been given the chance to heal—but even those he found alluring. They made him want to delve into her mind and bathe in her past, to see all the things she’d faced that made her the woman she was now.

  He didn’t know why he was drawn to her so completely, but since she’d saved his life a few weeks ago and fed him her blood, he’d spent every waking moment working to find her again so he could say what needed to be said.

  “I am so sorry I hurt you, Justice. There’s no excuse for savaging you like I did, but I promise you it will never happen again.”

  As he gave his vow, a heavy, comforting weight settled over him and bound him to his word.

  She cracked open one pale green eye and studied him. “That was a stupid promise to make.”