Blood Bond

by Shannon K. Butcher

  Maybe if she fucked him, he’d lighten up a little, relax.

  “You’re not allowed to say the fucking d-word,” he said.

  “Dying?”

  “Yes. That. I don’t want to even think about it.”

  Her big, bad, warrior husband was afraid. No matter how many times the realization hit her, she was always shocked by it. The man battled snarling, poisonous demons for a living, and he was terrified by the idea of her giving birth.

  She went to him and wrapped her arms around his body. The bulge of her pregnancy got in the way, but she didn’t mind. This was her family now. Her whole life was right here, in her arms.

  “Everything is going to be fine. Our little girl will be born any day now, and maybe once you hold her, you’ll finally relax.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he said, though with no heat in his words. “How can I relax when this little person needs me to keep her safe? When every snarly monster on the planet wants to eat her?”

  “And that’s not even counting all the boys who will want to date her,” Nika added, just to distract him.

  “Don’t fucking remind me. I can’t deal with that right now, Nika. I’m already losing it as it is without worrying about her dating.”

  Nika pulled back and reached up to cup his face in her hands. “We’re going to be happy, damn it. So deliriously happy that you will smile all the time, even in your sleep.”

  “There’s no time to smile. We need to prepare. Be ready to fight.”

  “But not tonight.” She pulled his head down so she could kiss him. “Tonight, we should enjoy the last few hours we’ll have alone.” She opened her mind as she kissed him again so he could feel how much she needed him, how much she ached to have him inside her.

  Madoc groaned into her mouth. His body clenched, and she could feel his arousal shimmering through their link.

  She reached down and slid her hand over his erection. “It’s your job to take care of me, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Provide for my needs?”

  “Always.”

  “All of them?” she asked.

  His hands tightened on her arms slightly. “But the baby—”

  “Is fine.” She slid her fingers into the top of his jeans, took his belt in her fist and pulled him toward the bedroom. “But I’m not. I need to come, Madoc, and it’s your duty to make it happen.”

  She felt the moment he relented. His mind shifted from resistance to the rough, animalistic need she found so arousing in him.

  “That’s it,” she crooned. “That’s what I’ve been missing.”

  Then he swept her up into his strong arms and kissed her until there was no more breath left for her to speak.

  ***

  Ronan’s natural instincts saved his life.

  As soon as the bullet severed the artery leading to his heart, his body shut down and began repairs. His heart stopped beating to prevent blood loss, and he went into a deep state of metabolic suspension much like hibernation.

  Had it not been for the fresh infusion of power Justice’s blood gave him, he wouldn’t have survived. The damage was extensive, and it had taken most of his reserves to heal it.

  As soon as he regained consciousness, he knew Justice was gone. He could feel her moving away from him fast, but he took heart in the fact that he could still feel her at all.

  If he could feel her presence, then she was still alive. That was the thought that allowed him to stay where he was, naked and shivering on the concrete floor while his body finished knitting together the tissues that the bullet had ripped apart.

  He had no idea who those men were or why they’d taken her. They weren’t Synestryn—he could tell by the smell of them they were completely human—but they could be working for demons. He hadn’t caught the scent of infection that came with long term exposure to Synestryn blood, but that didn’t rule out them being new puppets, dorjan.

  The list of reasons why they might want Justice was long, and one Ronan didn’t dare let himself contemplate right now. All that mattered was that she was alive. As soon as he could stand, he would come for her and tear apart every one of the men who’d dared to threaten her.

  He closed his eyes and willed his body to heal faster. He needed to taste the blood of his enemies. Soon.

  ***

  Justice woke up, certain that she had been drugged. They’d injected her with something to disable her. That’s what that sting had been—some kind of knock-out juice being shoved into her bloodstream.

  She kept her eyes closed so as not to alert her abductors that she’d regained consciousness. Her head was still foggy, but as she willed it to clear, she felt her body working to do just that. It was an odd kind of bubbling sensation, like tiny minions washing away the drug with fire hoses spewing hydrogen peroxide.

  She took stock of her body. Other than the drugs and a few bumps and bruises, she seemed unharmed. Naked, but unharmed. She was, however, tied up at her wrists and ankles. She couldn’t tell if they’d used hand cuffs, zip ties or something else, but she was definitely bound and unwilling to test those bonds to see if she could break free. Not yet.

  She was moving. The familiar sound of tires rolling over pavement told her she was in a vehicle. She had no idea what kind, but she wasn’t scrunched up. She was on a seat with fabric cushioning her bare ass and behind her back.

  There was heat on both sides of her body—men caging her in. She could smell their sweat and the greasy scent of gun oil and cordite.

  One of these men had shot Ronan. Killed him.

  Rage burned off the last bit of drugs fogging her brain. She was going to kill these fuckers for what they’d taken from her. She was going to steal their life the way they’d stolen his, but before she did, she was going to make them suffer. Make them beg her to kill them.

  Ronan.

  Just the thought of him lying there, bleeding and blind in death, was enough to crush the breath from her body. If he hadn’t been with her, he’d still be alive.

  She was as guilty for his death as the man who pulled the trigger. Nothing she did would ever change that.

  She loved him and she’d killed him.

  There were only two choices left to her now. She could either let her grief have her and fall into a mass of sobbing, useless tears. Or, she could give into the rage that wanted to consume her and let it take over and turn her into a killing machine.

  In the end, there was no choice. She’d never had much use for tears, and there were plenty of men who needed to die.

  It was far easier to kill than it was to grieve.

  The vehicle stopped. The engine shut off. One of the men beside her opened the door and got out. A second later, rough hands grabbed her under the arms and hauled her onto the cool ground.

  There was little light. The ground was cool, but not cold enough for them to be outside. There was no wind, and an echo gave her the sense of an enclosed space.

  She cracked her lashes open just enough to get a filtered view of rock walls and painted metal poles holding up a limestone ceiling.

  They were in some kind of cave, like those used for storage and manufacturing around Kansas City.

  She saw the legs of three men—two in combat dress and one in slacks.

  “Is she damaged?” asked one of the men.

  She knew that voice. Chester Gale, child thief, murderer and all-around entitled asshole.

  “We were careful, like you said,” one of the men replied from behind her.

  Justice upped her impending murder count to four.

  “Why is she naked?”

  “She was fucking some guy.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Dead.”

  “Where is the body?” Chester asked.

  “We left it there. The warehouse is isolated. No one will smell him.”

  “Fine. We’re in a hurry, anyway. Our client is impatient to meet her.”

  His client? Someone hired him t
o abduct her? Justice racked her brain but had no idea who it could be. If she hadn’t been with Ronan, she might have suspected him, but…

  Ronan was dead. He hadn’t hired anyone.

  Pain and grief swelled in her chest and threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn’t break down. Not now. Not here. Later, after she’d killed his murderers, she’d weep. But not now.

  There was a shuffling sound in the distance, followed by a fetid smell of rot and feces. She struggled not to gag, as did the men surrounding her. One of them retched, and a splash of vomit hit the ground a few yards away from her.

  “Vazel,” Chester greeted. “Good to see you again.”

  “You brought the woman.” It wasn’t a question, but the greedy, wet tone was all too eager for Justice’s comfort.

  Vazel. The man Chester had offered her twenty-thousand dollars to meet.

  This couldn’t be good.

  “I debated keeping her,” Chester said. “She’s caused me a lot of trouble. But I figured business is business. There’s no profit in killing her myself. I’ll let you have the pleasure.”

  “I’m not going to kill her.”

  “No? I assumed you would since she stole the girl you wanted.”

  So, this stinky fucker, Vazel was the one who wanted Pepper. That alone was enough for Justice to add him to her kill list.

  “I have better uses for a woman of her talents.”

  One of Chester’s men snickered. “I bet. She’s hot.”

  The man’s laugh was cut off suddenly and replaced with a chocking sound. A second later, there was a heavy thud of a body hitting the ground.

  Vazel hadn’t even moved.

  “No one insults my future queen,” Vazel said.

  A new sense of foreboding gathered around Justice and stole what little warmth was left in her skin.

  Whoever Vazel was, he wasn’t human.

  “She’s awake,” he said.

  “Not for hours,” Chester assured him. “The drugs—”

  “Are for humans. Justice is far from that.” He directed his next question to her. “Aren’t you?”

  No sense in playing possum now. At least if she could open her eyes, she’d be better able to take stock of her situation and figure out how to free herself and kill these fuckers one by one.

  Too bad Reba was back in the warehouse, well out of reach. She was going to have to find a weapon or resort to bare hands.

  Somewhere, deep in the primal part of her brain, that idea appealed to her far more than it should have.

  Justice opened her eyes, and as soon as she saw Vazel, she wished she hadn’t.

  He was grotesque, all bulbous and fleshy, with too-long arms and misshapen hands. He was naked except for a dirty cloth around his waist. His flaccid cock and drooping balls hung below the short bit of fabric. Grime clung to patchy skin that was almost the color and texture of desert lizards. His mouth was stretched in a wide grin filled with pointed teeth.

  Definitely not human.

  Behind him, lurking deep in the shadowy recesses of a rough rock opening stood several tall, humanoid creatures with pale gray skin. They held rough, rusty weapons in their hands that looked more like hammered bits of scrap metal than swords. Still, as muscular as they were, she didn’t doubt they could do some damage, even with the dull blades.

  “I have no idea what I am,” she told Vazel, “other than gonna kick your ass.”

  The demon laughed, the sound wet and phlegmy.

  She gave her eyes a break from his abundance of ugly to look down at her bindings. Zip ties. Rough on the skin, but breakable. All she needed was a little time to herself.

  “I enjoy a feisty woman,” Vazel said. “My queen was like you. You will please me, my new queen.”

  Queen? Where the hell was this creature from?

  Justice lifted her chin and sneered. “Untie me and we’ll see just how well I please you.”

  “As soon as I receive payment,” Chester said, “she’s all yours, to crown or fuck or kill—no judgment here. We all have our own path.”

  Justice’s skin began to crawl as if it could get away from Vazel without her.

  She struggled to her feet, certain she was giving the men behind her a hell of a show with her bare ass hanging out. “I’m not some thing to be bought and sold.”

  “Everyone has their price,” Chester said. “Yours was quite steep. You should be proud.”

  Justice was not going to let this asshole get away with the things he’d done—to her, to Ronan, to Pepper and to God knew how many others.

  She forced herself to look at Vazel. “You want me?” she told him. “Then prove it. Kill him for me. Kill the men who took the life of the man I loved.”

  Vazel grinned. Drool ran from the corner of his thin lips. “Bloodthirsty and feisty? I have chosen well. Our son will learn much from you.”

  Son? She had no clue what he was talking about.

  “Wait a minute,” Chester said as he backed away. “We had a deal.”

  “We did,” Vazel agreed. “You bring me the woman. I pay you.” He pulled free a small, dirty leather bag looped over his loincloth and tossed it to Chester.

  The man opened the bag and poured out a pile of stones.

  “Uncut diamonds. Now you are paid,” Vazel said.

  “I knew you were a man of your word.”

  Vazel lifted his too-long arm and pointed one misshapen hand at Chester. All the while, he stared at Justice with the most vicious grin on his face. “A gift for you, my queen.”

  The bald demons behind him began to hum in a low, almost reverent tone.

  Chester’s expression became one of confusion, then terror. A chocking sound erupted from his throat. He clawed at whatever invisible force had cut off his air, sending the diamonds scattering across the cave floor.

  Chester’s men shifted nervously. One of them rushed to his side. “Boss? Are you okay?”

  One man turned tail and ran. Another lifted his assault rifle and aimed it at Vazel. “Let him go.”

  The demon flicked his wrist, and Chester’s soldier went stiff, then fell back. His head hit the stone with a hollow thud, but he didn’t so much as flinch in pain.

  He was dead.

  Justice stood there, shivering. Her ankles were bound. She couldn’t run. She was barely able to balance against the remains of whatever drugs they’d used to knock her out.

  When the last of Chester’s gurgling death rattles quieted, Vazel came forward. He inspected each man, then leaned down and unbuttoned one of their shirts. He stripped it free of the dead body, then stood in front of her, offering it as if it were the finest silk gown.

  Sadly, he smelled as bad as he looked, like rotting meat and unwashed flesh.

  “For you, my queen.”

  She lifted her bound arms in the hopes that he might free her. “A little help?”

  He had only two fingers on his hand, both tipped with sharp claws. He used one to slice through the thick plastic like it was tissue paper, then did the same with her ankles.

  His complete lack of concern over cutting her bindings told her just how confident he was that she wasn’t going to get away.

  She took the dead man’s shirt and put it on. It fell past her ass, but not nearly far enough. At least it helped ward off the chill of the cave.

  Justice rubbed her wrists and looked around for a means of escape. The SUV was empty and all hers if she could find the keys. There was a second car, Chester’s BMW not far away. She didn’t know if he’d driven himself or had a driver who possessed the keys. Either way, she was going to have to dig through the pockets of dead men to find them.

  She doubted Vazel would give her that much time before he squeezed the life out of her as he had the men scattered on the ground.

  Behind Vazel was the rough opening in the cave wall where the other demons waited. She could tell that the entrance had been chiseled from the rock since this facility had been built. All around her were flat, paved floors, but insid
e that opening, the ground was jagged and uneven. The walls in here were painted, but none of that bright white coating went past the hole where the demons hovered.

  “Where does that go?” she asked Vazel as she struggled to come up with a way out of this mess.

  What she wouldn’t have given for Reba right now, but she was back in the warehouse with Ronan.

  Ronan.

  The image of his lifeless body flared in her mind and stole her breath. A crushing weight of grief poured over her until she thought it would kill her. Tears threatened to spill, but she fought them back.

  She couldn’t crack now. She couldn’t show weakness. If she did, this demon would eat her alive, possibly literally.

  Vazel stared at her and cocked his head. “My love died too. Your pain will pass. Our son will help.”

  She grasped onto the distraction he offered. “What son? I don’t have a son.”

  “When you see him, you will love him.”

  Justice pictured some slimy, squat version of Vazel with pointed teeth and body odor.

  “You know I’m not going with you, right?” she asked. It only seemed fair to tell him the way things were since he’d been decent to her so far. Sure, he’d paid a man in diamonds to abduct her, but, demon or not, he was still far more civilized than Chester had ever been.

  Vazel didn’t seem surprised or upset. “You will try to run. I will stop you. As many times as it takes.”

  “Takes for what?”

  “For you to accept your new life.”

  “Acceptance has never really been my strong suit. I’m more of a fight or die kind of girl.”

  He stepped toward her. She moved back, only he was faster. Her ass bumped up against the SUV which barred her path.

  He pressed his reptilian body against hers, pinning her against the cold sheet metal.

  “That is what makes a good queen. I can be patient. But just in case you are faster than me….” He grabbed her arm in his cold, claw-like hand and used one sharp fingernail to slit a cut across her wrist.

  Blood flowed freely from the wound and dripped off her elbow. She tried to fight her way free, but he was too strong. All she did was gain a few bruises for her efforts.

  Vazel bent and lick the drops of blood from her arm. The instant his tongue touched her skin, she started to tingle and itch, like she was having an allergic reaction.