Blood Bond

by Shannon K. Butcher

  Then again, being allergic to a hideous demon’s tongue seemed pretty reasonable to her.

  As he drank, he made the most disgusting slurping sound of enjoyment.

  She was certain he was going to like what he tasted enough to tear into her throat with his teeth, but instead, he swiped his finger over the cut and closed the wound.

  Blood coated his teeth as he spoke. “You are delicious. And powerful. But who is in there with you?”

  Before she could respond, the scent of fresh blood reached the hovering demons, they began to shift and growl.

  Vazel turned his head toward them and growled back. “Mine.”

  The demons cowered and shuffled deeper into the shadows.

  Justice used his moment of distraction to bring her knee up hard between his thighs. As much as she hated letting her bare skin touch that disgusting loin cloth and what lay beyond, it was her only hope of getting free.

  But rather than doubling over in pain like any normal creature, all he did was grunt and tighten his hold.

  Her hand went numb. His hot, fetid breath swept over her face, gagging her with the smell of rotting meat. “There is nothing you can do now. You are inside me. If you fight, I will win. If you run, I will find you. There is no escape.”

  Except in death.

  Justice had never had a death wish. She sometimes didn’t care if she lived or died, but she wasn’t suicidal. Still, with every life she took, it was getting harder for her to remember why she should keep fighting to survive.

  She had no one who would miss her if she died. Perhaps Ronan would have, but he was gone now too. No one would grieve for her.

  What was the point of surviving if she wasn’t free? This creature might be able to hold her hostage, but he wouldn’t be able to stop the fates—the woman—from compelling her to do things. If she was trapped and unable to obey, there was no question that she would die from the punishment inflicted upon her.

  If she was going to die, better to do so here, fighting to be free, than underground, trapped and surrounded by monsters.

  She glanced around at the ground littered with dead criminals, then to the line of creatures hiding in the shadows. As she did, a bubble of laughter escaped her lips.

  Justice was fated to die surrounded by monsters no matter what she did. Might as well make a stand here. Go down fighting. Take one more demon down with her.

  Maybe Ronan would find her in death the way he had in life.

  A sense of peace settled over her and gave her the strength to smile at the demon. “I’m going to enjoy showing you just how wrong you are.”

  ***

  Ronan could still feel Justice’s presence, but something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

  If he didn’t know her better, he would have said that the feeling he was getting from her was one of defeat. She was giving up.

  Justice never gave up. She fought, she pushed, she clawed and scraped until she got whatever it was she wanted.

  Or died trying.

  Panic spread out through Ronan, bleak and insidious. She couldn’t give up on him. She couldn’t be suffering so much that she was willing to let go. Not his Justice.

  He called Morgan for backup, then barreled his way down the interstate, practically pushing smaller cars out of his path as he went. He flashed his lights, blared his horn and sent out waves of fear so that everyone got the hell out of his way.

  It still wasn’t enough. A sense of doom pounded down on him with every tired beat of his heart.

  He couldn’t lose her. He needed her far too much to let her go, and not just for her blood. He needed that, too, but there was so much more. He needed her fire, her spirit, he needed her strength and beauty.

  Ronan had endured a lot over his long life, but he didn’t think he’d survive a life without Justice.

  She was closer now. Her intense presence glowed like sunshine against his face, then slid to his right as he neared her.

  He turned the van, nearly capsizing in his haste. A car behind him blasted its horn, but he didn’t slow.

  His phone rang. It was Morgan, answering his call for aid.

  “I see your van,” he said. “I’m right behind you.”

  Morgan Valens might have been a bit of a flirt, but when the chips were down, he was as dependable as they came. Thank God Joseph had let him leave Dabyr’s walls to search for Serena, or Ronan would be going into a fight without backup.

  Based on the desperate feelings coming out of Justice, Ronan was going to need all the help he could get.

  Centuries of finding people through their blood helped him pinpoint her location before he passed his turn. The road led into an industrial area filled with caves turned into businesses and storage. He was familiar with the layout, but not yet able to tell which entrance he should use.

  He pulled the van into the first parking area he could find, hopped out and ran back to Morgan’s truck.

  “That way,” he said, pointing off to the leftmost entrance. “She’s in there.”

  They drove through the gaping mouth of the cave, disguised with beams and posts to make it more palatable for the average visitor. As soon as they were inside the underground parking area, he smelled her blood and saw bodies scattered on the ground. Ugly yellow light flickered over the corpses and sent Ronan’s heart into his throat.

  “They’re all men,” Morgan said, his tone steady and reassuring. “Not her.”

  “She was here. I can smell her blood.”

  “All I smell is shit and rotting meat,” Morgan said.

  Ronan ignored all of that and singled out Justice’s sweet scent. It led him to a puddle on the pavement near an abandoned SUV. It was still wet, fresh. She’d been here within the last few minutes.

  Morgan bent over one of the dead men. “No sign of injury on this one.”

  “There were demons here.” He inhaled deeply to gather their scents so he could memorize them. One stood out from the others. It was rancid, but there was something else to it—an innocence, like the creature had recently been in contact with a human child.

  He followed his nose to a tunnel carved into the side wall of the industrial area. This had been opened recently from the look of it.

  Ronan smelled more of Justice’s blood and found a few drops of it next to a scuffle in the dirt floor of the cave. She was still fighting.

  A sense of relief rounded out the sharp edges of his fear and made room for a cold, hard determination to take root. He was going to get her back. No demon was taking his Justice from him. Not today. Not ever.

  “They took her this way,” he said as he drew his sword.

  The song of metal on metal answered behind him as Morgan did the same.

  Noises echoed from the guts of the stone. Deep, resonant voices and a higher, sharper one.

  Justice.

  Ronan sped his pace.

  “Slow down or they’ll hear you coming,” Morgan warned.

  “Good. They should know death is on their heels so they can spend their last moments on this earth afraid.”

  The Theronai sighed. “That’s where we are, huh? All logic out the window? Okay. If you insist. Brute force works for me.”

  There was a flicker of movement up ahead. Even though the caves were black, both he and Morgan had the ability to see, thanks to the magic flowing through their veins.

  Ronan wondered if Justice had tapped into her ability to do the same, or if she was fighting in the dark.

  Her voice rose in a shrill cry of pain, followed by, “Back off, you stinky fucker!”

  The response was a roar of anger and a deep snarl from more than one creature. As soon as Ronan rounded the next turn, he could see just how bad things were.

  Justice was beaten, bruised and bleeding. There were two scratches across her face, and a slick sheen of sickly sweat.

  Even from here he could smell that she’d been poisoned.

  She wore only a stiff, canvas shirt. No pants or shoes to protect her feet from the s
harp rocks and bits of bone littering the tunnel floor.

  There were at least a dozen tall, gray demons barring their path to Justice. They were all armed with rusty blades, and far stronger than they looked. While they didn’t seem to carry the same poison as their more demonic kin, they were still deadly.

  A tall, misshapen demon wearing only a loin cloth held her captive at the end of his long arm. His hand consisted of only two fingers and an oddly jointed thumb, but his grip was tight enough to keep her in check.

  She swung a fist at his head, but the move was sloppy. Ronan didn’t know if that was the ill effects of the poison in her system, or if she just couldn’t see her target.

  He wished like hell he were a Theronai and she his bonded mate. He could have touched her mind and told her he was here, that he’d come to rescue her and she didn’t have to be afraid.

  But he wasn’t a Theronai, and the best he could do was act fast and save her from any more abuse.

  “I have to go,” she shouted. “The fates…you don’t understand. I have to go!”

  Ronan’s throat tightened with fear.

  Not a compulsion. Not now. They were already dealing with a deeply dangerous situation. If Justice risked herself to comply with the woman who compelled her…

  Ronan lowered his voice so that only Morgan could hear. “Now.”

  The men charged the back of the horde, swords drawn, war cries echoing off stone walls. Every set of eyes turned their way, but the only ones he saw were Justice’s.

  She didn’t focus on them. Her vision was off. She was blind down here in the darkness.

  After healing himself, Ronan’s reserves were slim. Every bit of power he used now was being wrung from his cells, leaving tiny, empty skeletons behind. He would grow weak, then skinny as his tissues were consumed to fuel his demands. Eventually, if he didn’t stop, his body would shut down and refuse to sacrifice more of itself. He’d become mad with hunger and drain the blood of anyone unlucky enough to be nearby.

  As he’d done with Justice the first night he’d met her.

  He couldn’t let himself go that far now. He had to hold something in reserve to undo the poison coursing through her system. If he didn’t, she was as good as dead.

  Morgan reached the first demon before Ronan. His sword sliced through flesh and bone, beheading the creature in one strike.

  Dark red blood splattered the walls of the tunnel as well as the demons behind the dead one.

  Ronan took down the next and the next. As each man cut his way through the mass of gray flesh, more demons replaced the ones that had fallen.

  Through the chaotic swirl of bodies, Ronan could just make out Justice being dragged along by one arm, fighting with her bare hands every step of the way. She bit into the arm holding her hostage and raked her fingernails across the demon’s twisted face.

  “Justice!” Ronan called. “We’re coming!”

  He cut through another demon, but the next one in line got through his defenses. A rusty, dull blade sliced through his shoulder.

  More of his dwindling reserves went to work closing the wound. The more he bled, the weaker he became.

  “Ronan?” she said as though she didn’t believe it.

  “Hang on!”

  He sped the pace of his blows, frantic to reach her. She fought just as hard, jabbing with elbows and knees.

  “She’s mine!” the demon holding her roared.

  The creatures fighting stilled for a split second, as if terrified to move in the face of that angry tone.

  That fraction of time was all he and Morgan needed to turn the tide of the battle.

  Bodies fell at their feet. The back ranks of Synestryn began to turn and run as they realized that death was coming for them.

  “Hold the line!” the demon in charge shouted, but even fear of him wasn’t enough to get the deserters to stay and fight.

  “We’re coming for you,” Ronan warned. Hot blood speckled his face. A blue glow beamed from his eyes and fell on his next victims.

  He sliced his way through the demons by Morgan’s side, both slashing and hacking like they were clearing jungle overgrowth.

  “I see you!” Justice said. Then she jumped up onto the ugly demon, clamped her legs around it and began digging her thumbs into its eyes.

  The Synestryn screamed in pain, grabbed her hair and flung her to the ground.

  Black blood oozed from his eye sockets. His voice trembled with rage. “You could have been a queen.”

  Justice scrambled away like a crab, but her face was a fierce mix of defiance and the promise of more pain.

  She refused to be defeated, which was one of the things Ronan loved about her.

  “Instead, you will be sorry.” The demon tucked his chin to his chest and began to hum a low note as he turned and walked away.

  Instantly, the gray-skinned Synestryn fighting disengaged and began to hum the same note.

  Ronan took down two more as he rushed forward toward Justice.

  Morgan covered him, sword raised as he crouched beside her.

  “You’re alive,” she said. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

  “Worried?” she screeched. “I was scared shitless.”

  Morgan shifted beside them. “No time for this. We need to go, before they come back.”

  Ronan sheathed his sword and helped her to her feet. “As soon as we’re out of here, I’ll take care of that poison.”

  “Poison?” she asked, apparently unaware of the toxin sliding through her veins.

  “You’re going to be fine,” Ronan assured her. “We’ve got time.”

  “I can’t see. It’s too dark without your eyes glowing.”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, turned on a flashlight app and handed it to her. Then he picked her up so she wouldn’t cut her feet worse and carried her out of the cave.

  Justice laid her head against his chest. She was quivering, but he couldn’t tell if it was from relief, adrenaline or something the poison had done to her.

  “I have to go,” she said. “The fates…”

  He didn’t ask if she was sure or berate her for the bad timing. None of this was her fault or in her control. So instead, he simply asked, “Where?”

  Her tone was one of utter weariness. “Out of here.” Then, after a pause. “This is what the rest of my life looks like, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “Being pushed around by otherworldly powerful bullies and stinky monsters.” Her grip around his neck weakened.

  That was definitely the poison working through her.

  “No, Justice. Things look worse than they are right now. That’s all.”

  “I can’t lose you again,” she whispered.

  “You won’t. I pro—”

  She covered his mouth with a weak hand. “Don’t. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  ***

  Morgan followed Ronan and the woman clinging to his neck. He was gentle with her, protective. Whatever was going on between them went deep. Morgan could see it in the way she breathed him in, and the way Ronan caressed her body as he carried her. Neither of them could get enough of the other.

  Morgan missed that kind of intimacy. He hoped he’d been without it so long that he’d no longer crave it, but every time he saw one of his brothers happy in their bonded bliss with their mates, he remembered Femi and everything he’d lost.

  God, how he missed her.

  Even now, after all this time, there was a gaping hole where she’d once been. Nothing filled it. Nothing soothed the pain of that empty wound. No matter how many centuries he might live, his only true constant companion was going to be heartache.

  His brothers thought they suffered. Like him, they carried around the pain of holding in so much power with no way to release it. Every day that agony grew until some of them went mad. But Morgan knew the truth—a truth he held secret to protect his brothers.

  No matter how m
uch physical pain they bore, there was nothing that came even close to the torment of losing the woman they loved. If he could keep pulling in breath after breath with that agony riding him, then he could endure anything. Sadly, that meant there was no amount of pain that would kill him, no matter how much he might wish to escape it.

  As always, Morgan hid his pain behind a grin and a wink. “You two lovebirds get in Ronan’s van. I’ll take you where you need to go.”

  “The semi,” she said in a frantic voice. “We need to go back for the semi.”

  “Why?” Morgan asked.

  “She doesn’t know,” Ronan answered. “Just drive. I’ll show you where to go.”

  “We have to hurry,” she said. “We’re almost out of time to save them.”

  “Who?” Morgan asked. Then, before they could answer, he said, “Let me guess. She doesn’t know.”

  Ronan glanced over his shoulder as they exited the tunnel. “Now you’re catching on.”

  ***

  The van swayed and bumped over the road as Morgan sped toward the warehouse.

  Ronan caught the poison before it had spread too far through Justice’s system. He had to use precious energy to purge it from her system, but there was no other way. As he demanded his body give up more power, he felt himself wither slightly.

  He was beyond hungry now—beyond blocking out the need to feed. Healing himself, fighting, and removing the poison had all taken little bits of him until he had nothing else to give.

  “You can take what you need from me,” Justice offered. “I can see how skinny you’ve gotten.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not, but I appreciate you trying to protect me.” Even her voice sounded tired. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, and her blood supply was still low from the last time he had.

  Ronan kept a supply of bottled water and snacks in his van. He found an energy bar and opened it before handing it to her. “Eat this.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I need to clean up first. That Vazel asshole had some serious stank going on. I need to get him off me.”

  He handed her some wet wipes and let her scrub until she was satisfied that she’d rid herself of Vazel’s stench and the dried blood coating her arm.