Blood Bond

by Shannon K. Butcher

  As soon as the last Sanguinar fingernail was clear of the stairwell door, Justice rushed past the beds and opened the door on the next floor.

  They made it up one more level before Ronan set the gurneys in the hallway and sagged against the wall.

  He was shaking. His face was gaunt. His skin had a sickly gray cast to it that worried the hell out of her.

  They’d only gone up two flights. She hadn’t counted how many levels down they were, but she knew they were deep. They still weren’t past the secured floors to the area where Sanguinar treated patients and kept their quarters.

  The pounding below had stopped, but that didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, as soon as she heard a faint scratching, she knew what it meant.

  “They’ve made it through the wall,” she whispered.

  Ronan’s eyes blazed a bright blue. He pushed to his feet, using the wall for support.

  “You can barely stand. How are you going to keep going?”

  “Just get the door. Two more floors up and we’ll find help.”

  Justice didn’t argue. There wasn’t time. There was a pile of monsters on their tail, and if they didn’t hurry, every one of those helpless Sanguinar would become vampire jerky for demons.

  She pulled the door open and watched as the man she loved found the strength to lift the gurneys and keep moving.

  By the time they were halfway up the next flight of stairs, the door below burst open and a mass of fur and claws flooded into the stairwell.

  “Go!” Justice shouted.

  Ronan let out a painful groan and the convoy of beds flew through the door into the hallway of the floor above. They crashed against the wall in an uncontrolled rush, but there wasn’t time to check on the passengers now.

  Ronan was the last one through the door. He slammed it shut behind him, wrapped his hand around the lever and roared in fury and pain.

  The handle turned red and sagged around his grip, welding it shut. He fell to the floor, panting from the effort.

  On the other side of the door, demons yelped as they pawed at the hot metal. The sturdy steel rattled, but it held firm. At least for now.

  Justice rushed to Ronan’s side.

  He was in bad shape, nearly as thin as the Sanguinar they were trying to rescue. His skin hung on his skull, pale gray and trembling.

  A screech of bone on metal vibrated through the door.

  The Synestryn were trying to claw their way through.

  He couldn’t keep going. Not like this.

  Justice pulled her hair away from her neck and put her throat to his lips. “Drink. Now, before it’s too late.”

  The fact that he didn’t argue spoke volumes about just how hungry and desperate he was.

  His fangs bit deep. The flash of pain melded into pleasure as his lips worked against her skin.

  She licked her lips, tasting remnants of his blood clinging there from where she’d kissed his cheek. Inside that blood were memories.

  Hers, not his.

  In an instant, the curtain hiding her past opened. She saw a strange world with an orange sky and two suns blazing overhead. She remembered being raised with her sisters, learning from the older women there that—like her sisters—her life was to be forged from duty, that she had a purpose. A destiny.

  She had been born to save the lives of the Sanguinar who could never feel the sun on their faces. She had been bred to rescue a race of selfless souls who fought, suffered and died so that others could live. She had been created to be more than just an individual, striving toward her own hopes and dreams.

  Justice and her sisters were weapons. It was their duty to fight in whatever way was necessary to win the war against the Synestryn. And if that meant their deaths, then so be it.

  On her nineteenth birthday, Justice had offered herself to the cause and sworn to do her duty to her sisters, her mother and her people. She’d bound herself to that duty, shunning all other purposes.

  The final step toward proving her dedication had been to willingly give up her memories, her past, and her family so that she could step into the war and fight. If the enemy ever took her captive, they’d never be able to pry from her the secret location of her birth. Because if they did, then all the little girls on Temprocia would be at risk.

  Justice had agreed without hesitation. She’d been the first of her age group to volunteer to give up everything to help her kind fight the war on earth. She’d been eager, excited.

  She’d had no idea just how much the women who raised her were asking when they stripped away her past, but such was the nature of youth. She had believed she was wise, indestructible, invulnerable.

  She’d been so very wrong.

  And now that she had her past again, she knew who she was. What she was.

  Justice was what the poor, shriveled souls on those gurneys should have been had they not been cursed at birth. She was free to walk in the sun and feel its warmth on her face. She would never need to drink blood for her strength. She would never be called vampire or monster. She would never be so hungry that she’d rather turn into a husk than stay awake and suffer.

  These dried bodies were her people. They were the ones she’d been born to protect. They were the ones she’d been created to help, no matter the personal cost.

  Ronan wasn’t going to be able to save their people without more blood. There wasn’t enough left in her for him to get the Sanguinar away from danger.

  Unless he took it all.

  She could sense his resistance to keep feeding even as his starvation and desperation urged him to continue. Any second now, he would stop, and if he did, they were all going to die down here.

  The demons had nearly made it through the door. The metal was beginning to buckle. Here and there a black claw poked through, raking at the steel, fighting to rip it open.

  They were all going to die down here if Ronan wasn’t strong. If he wasn’t fed.

  She couldn’t lift the gurneys. She couldn’t fight with a sword and lop of the heads of the monsters hunting them. All she could do was her duty. Give her everything, as she’d been taught to do. As she’d vowed to do.

  The distant voice of the woman in her head told her what she needed to know. The transfer of information was so fast, it was almost as if she was waking an instinct that had simply been sleeping.

  Justice slipped seamlessly inside Ronan’s mind and found the part of his thoughts she needed.

  She whispered to him that she was healthy and strong. She had plenty of blood to spare. He could take all he needed and she’d be fine. There was nothing to worry about except drinking his fill so he could get their people to safety.

  The subterfuge worked. He kept feeding while she weakened, while she became dizzy, while her heart fluttered. She was nearly empty now, but it was okay. Part of her would always be with Ronan. He’d hold her inside him forever and keep her close.

  Justice had found her purpose. She’d fulfilled her destiny. She’d loved. As far as she was concerned, that was as full as any life could ever get.

  Her final thoughts as she died were of how much she loved Ronan, and of how lucky she was to have lived a life that mattered.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Ronan didn’t realize that he’d killed Justice until it was too late.

  One second, he’d been sure she was fine, and the next, whatever veil had been cast over him had vanished, and he’d been holding her body in his arms.

  Despair and guilt unlike anything he’d ever known fell over him and strangled the air from his lungs.

  She had done this, he realized. She had sacrificed herself to save them all. If he’d stopped feeding from her while she was still safe, he never would have had the power he needed to rescue his people. Her people.

  But now, her power rumbled through him like thunder. His muscles bulged with it. His mind burned with clear focus. Every spark of life she’d had was his now. He had everything he needed to save the sleeping Sanguinar.

 
The only person he wanted to save was Justice.

  He held her close as he pressed his hand to her chest with the intent to restore her—give her back the life force she’d sacrificed.

  He gathered her power inside him, ready to shove it back into her by force, but when he tried, her blood wouldn’t cooperate. It wouldn’t let him heal her.

  Ronan let out a scream of feral rage. It echoed off the hallway walls and made the ravening demons gouging their way through the door back up a step. They yelped as if slapped.

  How could she have done this to him? How could she have stolen herself away from him? Didn’t she know he loved her?

  Of course, she didn’t. He’d never told her.

  Ronan roared in pain again, and this time, the magic seething in his body came out. It shoved the buckling door inward and shattered the lightbulbs overhead.

  He couldn’t save Justice, but maybe another of his kind could.

  He surged to his feet and pressed his hands against the door. The stairwell was the fastest way up, and with the way the electricity was sparking and flickering, he didn’t trust the elevator. Nor would it hold all of the fragile souls he was determined to save—the souls Justice had sacrificed her life for.

  Ronan gathered up a few precious drops of Justice’s power and used it to bash in the heavy steel door.

  Demons on the opposite side were crushed instantly. Their black blood splattered the walls and slickened the steps. Those that weren’t killed, were shoved down and left to snarl and crawl over the backs of the dead.

  He didn’t give them a chance to recover. Instead, he pulled on Justice’s power to light the whole furry, greasy, bloody mass of demons on fire.

  They ignited in a whoosh of light and heat. Below, more demons howled as their fur caught fire.

  If they wanted to reach him, they were going to have to burn to make it happen.

  Before the temporary blockade burned out, Ronan levitated Justice and his brothers and pushed them up the stairs.

  The strain of lifting so much weight, coupled with the lethargy of daylight weakened him faster than he would have thought possible.

  Dark, slithering forms glided up the walls like giant centipedes with spiny backs. They dug long claws into the drywall, climbing up it as if the smooth finish was rough tree bark. Dozens of eyes in their segmented heads glowed a bright green. Their bodies bowed and arched as they kept sight of their levitated prey.

  Ronan didn’t have time or energy to fight them one at a time. His best bet was to get out of this stairwell and lock them all inside.

  He’d managed to shove Justice’s body and three of the gurneys through the door to the next level—the first one unsecured and open to humans and Theronai. This was the level where they treated injuries and tended the sick.

  And it was filled with demons.

  He could barely see through the nests of mummified arms and legs, but what he did see was the glowing green eyes of demons and plenty of teeth and claws.

  Before they could feast on his family, Ronan shoved up a shield around each gurney and Justice.

  The drain on his body was so strong, he felt himself sag.

  He pushed harder, digging deeper. Finally, he got all the beds through the stairwell door. He shoved it closed and welded it shut as he’d done before.

  Hot air rasped his lungs. His vision narrowed so that he could barely see. He was on the floor now, though he had no idea how he’d gotten here.

  He pulled out his cell and dialed the emergency number.

  Slade answered.

  “Need…help. Infirmary,” he panted.

  Slade’s voice was calm and even, despite his young age. “I have your location, Ronan. I’ll send help your way. Just hang on.”

  “Need…blood. Justice…dying.” Tears streamed down his face as he said the words. He could see her sprawled on the floor a few feet away from him, her pretty silver-green eyes staring back at him, lifeless. Empty.

  He’d killed her. She’d let him. He loved her and he’d killed her.

  How was he ever going to live with himself now?

  The power she’d sacrificed herself to give him was fading. The blue shield around his allies began to flicker. Black, oily muzzles filled with rows of teeth began sniffing at the cracks, curious and hungry.

  Ronan crawled across the floor toward Justice. The wheels of a gurney were in his way, but he reached for her with one skeletal hand. He had to hold himself together for just a few more minutes—let the magic eat his flesh and bone until help arrived.

  He touched the tip of her cold finger. She was gone. He wanted to go with her. Be with her. But if he did that, his family would die.

  She wouldn’t want that. She’d given everything she had so that they could live.

  His eyes fluttered shut. The shield fluttered with them. Demons growled and yipped in excitement.

  Somewhere a few doors down the hall, a baby cried the raw, faint cry of a newborn.

  Nika. She’d done it. She’d brought the next generation of Theronai into the world. If she could do that in the midst of death and destruction, then Ronan could hold on for just a few more seconds.

  Then he would go to Justice and be with the woman he loved forever.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Justice had never before seen the stunning woman standing in front of her, but she knew her instantly on sight.

  She had long, black hair and pale green eyes that were filled with motion like spring leaves shivering on a soft breeze. Her gown shimmered with silver threads, and her neck and wrists were adorned with gleaming metal bands. Each of them was marked with the same strange marks as were on the key.

  She was tall, with muscular arms bare from the shoulder down. Atop her black curls was a thin crown tipped with silver pearls and cut stones filled with light. Literally filled with light, as if someone had somehow captured the sun, liquefied it, then poured it into faceted crystal shells.

  She was the most beautiful woman Justice had ever seen, and not only because she was Justice’s mother.

  “I am Celentia,” she said. There was power in her voice—a power Justice knew all too well.

  The woman. The fates. Her mother was the presence in her head, compelling her to act.

  “You,” Justice said. The word hovered somewhere between a question and an accusation.

  She struggled to understand what was happening. Everything here was muted, diluted, as if she were experiencing it from a distance, outside of herself. She looked around but recognized nothing. She was in a dark place with moonlight streaming down from behind frosty clouds. There was a faint pink glow in the air, but it had no source. She could smell flowers nearby, but had no idea what they were, other than intoxicating. Almost spicy, like Ronan’s skin, like his blood.

  “Where am I?”

  “Your mind is with me on Athanasia. Your body is dying on earth.”

  “Dying?”

  “Dead, technically.” The swirling green in her eyes blurred, but Justice couldn’t tell if it was because of tears, or because her viewpoint seemed so distant.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know,” the woman said, her tone dropping to a sad, minor chord. “There is too much to tell and not enough time.”

  “Then you’d better hurry.”

  Celentia smiled slightly, as if she found Justice cute. “I bound you too tightly to your duty. It hurt you. That was never my intent, but there was no undoing it. Until now.”

  “Duty?”

  “I created you to aid the Sanguinar. I ordered you sent to Earth when you were ready, stripped of your memories to protect you.”

  “I chose to go.” Justice remembered that now, clearly. She’d known what was going to happen to her if she left the comfort of her childhood village. She was going to be alone, stripped of her past, with only her instincts and her duty to guide her.

  She’d been ready to go. Eager to serve. It was an honor few of her kind were tough enough and brave e
nough to receive. Only the strongest were allowed to serve. She’d been so proud to be given the honor.

  “You chose to go because you were bred to choose duty over all else,” Celentia said. “All my daughters were.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The woman stepped closer and pressed her warm hand against Justice’s cheek. “I so desperately wanted to stay with you, my sweet daughter.” She stroked her temple. “Here, in your mind, but I see the folly of that desire now. Our times flow in two different rivers. Communication is painful for you. You suffered when I spoke.”

  “That was you?” Justice asked. “All this time, the compulsions—the fates—that was you trying to speak to me?”

  Celentia nodded. “I never knew it would cause you pain. I am sorry, my child.”

  “You made me do things,” Justice said, her tone sharp with accusation. “Horrible things. You made me kill.”

  “There is always death in war.”

  “And Noah? What about him? He wasn’t shooting at me or hiding a knife behind his back. You forced me to kill him for no fucking reason!”

  “There was good reason. He was not what he seemed. He was dorjan. Tainted.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. I saw the poison raging through him, growing day by day. Time on your world was going by so fast. I feared if I slept, if I rested, he would destroy you.” She shook her head and a tear spilled down her perfect cheek. “I tried to tell you why I commanded you to obey, but you could not hear me. I was not strong enough to shift the flow of time to speak so you could understand. I am so sorry for your pain. Sorry for your loneliness.”

  Justice still couldn’t get over the idea that she was speaking to her mother. Even when she was growing up on Temprocia, she’d never met her. Celentia had given birth, then gone home, sacrificing her child to a war that was the only hope of survival for an entire world. Maybe more than one. Justice had known that from the time she was little.

  “You abandoned me,” Justice said. She felt like she should be angrier but couldn’t seem to remember how to summon it.

  “I left you in the only place you would be safe from the Solarc. I left you with women who raised you with strength and honor. I wish I could have done so myself and seen you grow into the powerful creature you are now, but such luxuries have never been mine. Too many lives rest in my hands.”