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Blood Bond

Page 8

by Shannon K. Butcher


  “What is?” she asked.

  “Those compulsions you have? The fates?”

  “What about them?”

  “Someone did that to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I felt a presence. Someone you knew before your memory was erased is calling the shots.”

  “Who?”

  “I have no idea. And honestly, whoever it is, they’re powerful enough that who might not be the right question.”

  “Then what is the right question?”

  “What is it?”

  Her gaze fell away from his and landed on her lap. He could practically smell the defeat wafting out of her.

  “If you think that’s the end of it, Justice, you’re wrong. I’m not done yet, and I won’t stop trying to help you until I find out how to get that thing out of you.”

  She shook her head. “This was a mistake. I can tell how hard this was on you, and all you did was take a look around inside my skull. I won’t ask you to do more.” She shrugged and stood as if the matter were settled. “I’m fucked. That’s old news. Thanks for trying.”

  She couldn’t leave without his help. She had no way to activate the elevators to the surface. There were too many helpless, sleeping Sanguinar down here for them to take risks with security. Only a few trusted Theronai could access this level. No humans were allowed. Their minds were too easily controlled by the enemy.

  Ronan waited for her to realize she was stuck.

  She was halfway to the door when she stopped, turned and sighed. “Are you going to make me beg?”

  “Never. But we’re not done here. Just because I wasn’t able to free you in the last few minutes doesn’t mean it’s hopeless.”

  “Are you sure? Because you looked pretty damn hopeless a minute ago.”

  “Surprised,” he lied. Truth was, he had been terrified. To be touched by anything as powerful as the presence in her mind was not the kind of thing a man dismissed as uneventful.

  Ronan knew that there were things in this universe that made even the strongest Sentinels look like weak newborns, but he’d never felt one before. It was as humbling as it was intimidating.

  He had no idea how he was going to inflict his will on that thing and force it out of her, but he knew he was going to try. No one deserved to suffer the way she did.

  He still marveled that she was strong enough to withstand that presence on a daily basis without going mad.

  She shook her dark curls. “I shouldn’t have come here. What the hell was I thinking?”

  “You were thinking about Pepper.”

  “And now that I know she’s safer here than she would be with me, I think my work is done. Time to move on.”

  “Is that the fates talking?”

  “No. They’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

  “Then perhaps you’re doing the right thing by staying.”

  “Is it right, though? Or just what they want me to do? I really can’t tell anymore.”

  “All the more reason to stay and let me try to help you. You do want them gone, right?”

  “More than anything in the world.”

  “Then why give up now?”

  “Because if you fail, then I’m out of options. At least now I can pretend there’s a chance for freedom.”

  “So, you’re going to walk away from a chance just so you can pretend you have one? You realize that’s a bit crazy, right?”

  She stared at him for a long moment. Tension radiated through her body, and all he wanted to do was pull her close and soothe her. But if he touched her, he’d want more. He’d forget himself and do something that might drive her away.

  There were at least a dozen ways he could think of to get her to relax, and most of them ended up with her naked and shimmering with pleasure.

  The idea made his blood heat and his skin flush with need.

  Finally, she spoke. “If I were to let you try to help me, what would you do?”

  “I’d need to be at the peak of strength to take on the thing inside you. Once I was, I’d go back into your mind and try to drive it out.”

  “Have you done that before?”

  “With Synestryn, yes.”

  “Is that what’s inside me?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I didn’t feel the taint of malevolence I would expect of a demon. If it is one, it’s the strongest I’ve ever encountered.”

  “Of course, it is. Just my luck.” She sighed. “How long will it take you to get strong enough to try?”

  “That depends on you, since yours is the only blood powerful enough to give me what I would need to combat the presence.”

  Her hand flew to her throat and the twin puckers his fangs had left behind a few weeks ago.

  He crossed to her and tilted her head to the side to inspect them.

  The marks were pink against her caramel skin—still fresh enough he could heal them if he tried. He wouldn’t. He liked his mark on her far too much to remove it. Let any other Sanguinar see her and know that she was his.

  Bloodsucking barbarian, indeed.

  “You’re still healing,” he said. “But with a few days of rest and fluids, you should be able to give me what I need.”

  A tiny shiver coursed through her, but he saw it all the same. Just like he saw the way her pupils widened and her nostrils flared as if breathing in his scent.

  He could smell her arousal, earthy and warm. Never before had any woman put off such an intoxicating scent.

  Ronan bent his head to breathe in the air swirling beneath her delicate ear.

  Sweet, womanly need. Pure temptation going straight to his head.

  His lips brushed her skin. He hadn’t meant to do it, but now that he knew just how warm and soft she was, he couldn’t shake the need to press his lips against her flesh and kiss her.

  Her pulse sped. The rush of blood through her veins made his mouth water and his cock swell.

  A puff of air escaped her chest as a whimper, so faint, he almost couldn’t hear it over the hammering of her heart.

  Her tentative fingers curled against his shoulder, twitching as if she wasn’t sure if she should grab on or push away.

  He knew which one he was going to allow.

  One hand splayed at the small of her back and drew her hips closer to his. The other hand slid into her thick, springy curls and nestled against the heat of her scalp. He closed his fingers around the strands to hold her head still while his lips opened over her pulse.

  Justice’s body tightened in anticipation, practically quivering in his arms.

  She wanted what he was about to do, but even he wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss her or bite her. The need for both was raging inside of him, so loud he couldn’t hear his own thoughts.

  Her head tilted slightly, giving him better access. It was an invitation, a welcome, and one that made his fangs lengthen into wicked points.

  The need to possess this woman was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. He felt like she belonged to him—like she’d always been his—and yet she was also a precious, untouchable creature too good for a man who preyed on others.

  Still, he’d craved her for so long, he knew he couldn’t let her go without a taste—just a few drops to ease his hunger.

  Her heart stuttered, tripping over a single beat. He might not have noticed if he hadn’t been so close, but he was, and he did.

  She was still healing from her injuries. As strong and healthy as she looked, he knew her body was working hard to replenish what she’d lost. To take more blood from her now was selfish. Weak.

  She deserved a man who was neither of those things.

  For someone who’d spent most of his life resisting the urge to feed, willpower came to him slowly, grudgingly, dragging its feet. But when he finally grabbed it and forced it to submit, he was able to do the right thing.

  With a fleeting kiss that was barely more than a breath of air, he pulled away from her throat and let her go.
>
  Her mouth was open. Her lips were stained a dark, aroused red. Thin rings of green surrounded her wide pupils, which she covered in a sweep of thick, black lashes.

  He cleared his throat twice to loosen his voice enough to speak. “I’ll take you aboveground now. We’ll find you an empty suite where you’ll be comfortable while you finish recovering.”

  When her nod finally came, it was small and tight. “That’s probably for the best.”

  He wasn’t so sure best was the word he’d use, but until she was healthy, it was safest for her not to be alone with him. Because for the things he wanted to do to her, she needed to be nice and healthy.

  Chapter Five

  Justice was relieved when she was finally alone inside a comfortable room that looked a lot like an upscale hotel. There was no kitchen, but she did have a stocked mini fridge and microwave tucked in one corner, along with a coffee pot and basket of snacks.

  There was a small sitting area on one side of the space and a large bed on the other. A quarter of the suite was filled with a massive bathroom that had a freestanding tub inside a glass-enclosed, walk-in shower big enough to host small parties. She didn’t know what anyone needed with a shower that large, but she did appreciate the gleaming white tiles with soft gray veins running through them.

  The towels were thick and fluffy, as was the bedding. Someone had even gone to the trouble to place a real, live plant on the coffee table, along with several coasters to make sure guests took the hint to use them.

  Justice turned on the TV to keep her company, then stripped off her clothes and made use of a small portion of the shower. There were more jets and nozzles than she knew what to do with, but she experimented with all of them before she got out and dressed in the softest clothes she had with her.

  Ever since Ronan had kissed her neck, her skin had felt over-sensitized, as if her cells were holding their breath and waiting for him to finish what he started.

  It wasn’t like her to linger over thoughts of a man, sighing and mooning like some adolescent girl. She didn’t stare into space, pining for another touch, and she sure as hell didn’t grin like a fool when she thought about how good his lips had felt along her skin.

  She flipped mindlessly through the channels until she found a bloody boxing match. The rapid-fire violence and mangled faces made her feel better—more at home in her own skin.

  It was late. She’d been through a lot. She should have been tired, but her whole body buzzed like it was on the verge of an adrenaline high.

  Ronan had done something when he’d touched her mind. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt different. Altered.

  She’d been able to sense him since he’d fed from her weeks ago, but now she felt like she was close, like if she closed her eyes and reached out her hand, his taut skin would be right under her fingertips.

  The boxer in red shorts took another brutal blow to the eye and spun away from his opponent. Blood and sweat dripped from his jaw, but he came back for more.

  Just like she would do with Ronan.

  Maybe he could help her, maybe he couldn’t. She wasn’t sure about that, but she was sure that if he knocked on her door right now, she’d let him in—and it had nothing to do with wanting him to free her from her compulsions.

  She wanted him. She’d never wanted a man before, but there was no question what she was feeling.

  She wanted Ronan. Bad.

  After ten years of rolling her eyes at women who threw themselves at men who were no good for them, she finally understood what made them such gluttons for punishment.

  He survived on blood—her blood—and yet she knew that if he came to her now, hungry and desperate, she’d give him whatever he needed. Whatever he wanted.

  If that didn’t make her a fool, she didn’t know what would.

  There was a soft knock at the door. Justice jumped up with the image of Ronan blazing in her mind, but it was a woman standing there instead.

  Justice’s first impression of the woman was that she was sunshine in a ponytail. Her hair was sunny-blond, her eyes were amber, and her skin was tan and gleaming with health. She was average height—a couple of inches shorter than Justice—dressed in faded jeans and a soft yellow sweater. Her grin was wide and genuine, and she smelled like a warm spring day.

  “I’m Hope,” she said. “Joseph said you wanted to meet me.”

  Justice wasn’t sure what to do. She’d never had a visitor before. Hell, she’d never even had a home for anyone to visit.

  She tried to think back to the times she’d been welcomed in someone’s home, but it had happened so rarely, she was drawing a blank on what the protocol was. What did one do with an unexpected visitor?

  At a loss, she simply stepped back to give the other woman room to enter. “I do. Thanks for coming.”

  Hope bounced in, all good cheer and swaying ponytail. “It’s true, isn’t it? I can see it in your aura.”

  “Is what true? What aura?” Justice asked.

  “Joseph said you might be like me. You know, Sanguinar, but without the curse.”

  “What curse?”

  Justice backed up in shock, but Hope took it as an invitation to come on in and sit down.

  “The sunlight thing. You can go in sunlight, can’t you?” Hope settled on the couch with her legs curled under her like they were girlfriends revving up for a nice, long chat. “I’m a bit of a sun-worshiper myself.”

  Justice had no idea what to do. Did she sit, too? Offer Hope a drink? Ask to braid her hair?

  Instead, Justice stayed on her feet and moved closer to Reba, sitting next to a gleaming chrome lamp.

  “Why wouldn’t I be able to go in sunlight?” she asked.

  Hope cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. Her ponytail swung like a pendulum. “Your aura is familiar. Not many people have bright starbursts like yours. You’ve got this massive war going on between duty and acceptance.” She squinted. “I can’t tell which will win.”

  “Uh,” was all Justice could think to say to that. She felt like she was the victim of an involuntary CT scan on public display.

  Hope waved her hand in dismissal. “Sorry. I’m freaking you out, aren’t I? How about we try this again. I’m Hope, and once upon a time, I was just like you.”

  Yeah, right. The two of them couldn’t have been less alike unless one of them grew a third arm.

  “Like me how?”

  “I came here with no memories of who or what I was. I was lucky enough to be taken in by a woman who loved me like a daughter, but without that, I probably would have gone crazy.”

  She probably would have turned inanimate objects into her friends or something batshit like that.

  Hope continued, “I worked for years to recover my memories, but nothing worked. Until Logan. He helped me remember who I am. What I am.” A sappy smile warmed her expression. “I remember how lonely it was to have no past. How frustrating. I want you to know that you’re not alone. I’m here for you, no matter how long it takes for you to recover your memories.”

  “So, you think I can?” Justice asked with far too much desperation in her voice.

  “I did. Maybe I can help. How about I tell you what I know and you see if anything strikes a chord?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Hope beamed. “My mother is Athanasian. She snuck out of her world even though it was forbidden and came to Earth to find a man to give her a child. Because she couldn’t be gone long without her asshole father noticing, as soon as I was conceived, she went to a world called Temprocia where time flows much faster than either here or on Athanasia. As soon as I was born, she had to go home, but I couldn’t go with her. If her father knew I existed, I’d be cursed like the rest of the Sanguinar and never be able to go into the sunlight.” A shiver of dread coursed through her delicate frame. “So, she made the ultimate sacrifice and left me with a woman named Brenya to raise me. There were a lot of other girls there just like me.”

  “Other
girls?” Justice felt something in her mind wobble and shift, like Jell-O being sucked through a straw. She tried to grasp it, but it was gone before she had time to even realize what it was.

  Hope nodded. “At least a dozen. We lived in these small villages in the jungle. Does that ring a bell?”

  Justice waited for something else in her brain to wiggle, but everything stayed steady. “No. Sorry.”

  “Then I’ll keep going,” Hope said. “Once I was old enough, I was sent back to Earth to help fight the war against Synestryn. The only problem was that if I knew about the demons, they’d come for me before I was able to find safety and learn how to exist in this world. So, in order to protect me, my memories were stripped away, leaving me protected until I was ready.”

  “How did you know you were ready if you couldn’t remember anything?”

  “I had to have help. I never would have remembered anything without Logan. I think that was an intentional safeguard Brenya put on our memories so she would be sure we were with allies before we could draw Synestryn to us.”

  “Us?”

  Hope nodded. “I think you and I are the same. I know you probably don’t remember me. And the fact that I don’t remember you means we were raised in different villages on Temprocia, or that you left before I was born. But when I look at you, there’s something familiar there. I recognize parts of you that I’ve never seen in anyone who wasn’t like me.”

  Justice sat then. She had no choice. After a decade of wondering who and what she was, this walking bit of sunshine was just handing over all the answers. Freely.

  It was too good to be true. Wasn’t it?

  “I know it’s a lot to digest,” Hope said. “And until your memories return, you probably won’t feel like it’s real, but the longer I’m with you, the more certain I am that we’re the same. We may even be cousins.”

  Justice looked at her dark skin, then Hope’s sun-kissed tan. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Our mothers were almost certainly sisters. Who knows who our dads were, though. That would account for how different we look.”

  “What makes you say our mothers were related?”

  “Because the only people in Athanaisa who are strong enough to rebel against the Solarc and travel through a gate are his children. When his sons mate with humans, a Theronai is born. When his daughters do the same, it produces a Sanguinar.”

 

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