Blood Bond

by Shannon K. Butcher

  “No, but there is one thing I need to take care of.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Chester Gale. The man who took Pepper and killed her mother. Well, technically, I already killed that scumbag, but the man who ordered it done—the one who had some reason to buy a little girl—is still out there.”

  “The fates want you to kill him?”

  “No, that’s all me.” She turned to face Ronan. The oncoming headlights flashed over her dark skin, highlighting just how serious she was about this. “Does that make me a bad person?”

  “That you want to murder a man who destroys lives?” Ronan shrugged as he watched the road ahead for his exit. “I don’t think so.”

  “He has wealth, power, and a vast network of people who work for him. Including me.”

  “He employs you?”

  “I found objects for him a few times. I didn’t know that he was into little girls until Pepper.”

  “What kind of objects?”

  “A book, a dagger. Trinkets. Like this brooch. They all seem to have the same kind of marks on them. Maybe they were made by the same metalsmith and he’s a collector.” She shook her head. “The paychecks were always big enough to discourage a lot of questions.”

  “Were you compelled to find those trinkets the way you were this one?”

  She was silent for a moment. “I thought the fates were simply funding my warehouses and my fast-paced lifestyle. You know, making it possible for me to have fast cars to get me where they wanted me to go and pay for all the speeding tickets that went along with them.”

  “And now? Do you think differently?”

  “Why would they want me helping an asshole?”

  “So, you think the fates are inherently good?”

  “I think they’re inherently irritating. I guess I always hoped that the things they had me do served some higher purpose. Like saving your life.”

  “Have you ever heard them speak?” he asked.

  “No, but I’ve often hoped they could hear me. I’ve had plenty of things to say to them over the years.”

  “I just bet you have,” he said.

  He exited the highway and stopped at the top of the ramp to watch her expression. “I think the fates may have spoken to me. When I was feeding from you.”

  Her green eyes went wide. “What? Are you sure?”

  “No, but if you’ll let me, I can try to hear them again. Maybe even speak to them.”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Do it now. Tell them to leave me the hell alone.”

  “I need to seek shelter from the sun first. The van is fine in a pinch, but I much prefer to be belowground during the day. There’s a farmhouse a few miles south that has a basement. It’s rustic, but dry. And the upstairs is quite nice. Comfortable beds, so I’m told.”

  Justice nodded but said nothing. He’d upset her somehow. He could smell the hurt coming from her in waves but had no idea what he’d done or said to cause it.

  For a man who spent plenty of time in the minds of females of all kinds, Ronan still didn’t understand what made them tick.

  “Did I say something wrong?” he asked after a few miles of silence.

  “No. It’s fine,” she said in a tone that meant it most definitely was not fine.

  “I know you’re upset. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  After another few minutes of uncomfortable silence, she said, “Why wouldn’t the fates speak to me? I mean, I’ve spent my entire life doing their bidding, jumping through every hoop they demanded, no matter how confusing or distasteful. I’ve killed for them. Why the fuck would they talk to you and not talk to me?”

  “I’m not even sure if that’s what happened, Justice. I heard something, but in our world, there are a lot of things that could have been.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m linked to those I’ve fed from. One of them may have been able to reach me if they possessed enough magic. And there’s always the possibility that there was a psychic nearby who reached me without intending to do so. I know a woman, Rory, who was tormented by seeing things through the eyes of the people around her. She couldn’t keep those visions out. Perhaps there’s another female Theronai nearby who is unable to keep from projecting her thoughts to those around her. And let’s not forget Brenya, who by all accounts is a magical badass of epic proportions. She’s likely the one who sent you here. She may somehow still be linked to you and protecting you from being fed on by men like me.”

  “Hope mentioned her. Do you think she’s the one making me do these things?”

  Ronan shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I could be wrong.”

  “Why don’t you think it’s her?”

  “Because if everything I’ve heard is true, then she’s got her hands full. We sent one critically ill woman to her for healing. Grace was beyond our help, but Brenya offered to try to save her. At the same time, she also took the young Theronai Tori, who had been raised by demons and tortured until she was little more than an angry mass of violent urges. On top of that, Hope says she’s raising more Sanguinar to send here to aid our fight. I doubt she’s got time to tell me when I’ve taken too much of your blood.”

  “That’s what she said?”

  “I don’t know that it was a she, but the word I heard was stop.”

  “That’s all. One word?”

  “Believe me, one word was enough. There was power there. Lots of power.”

  Justice absently spun the brooch in her fingers. “That, at least, makes me feel better.”

  “What does?”

  “That the thing controlling me is powerful. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried for fight the compulsions over the years. I never win. I’d always hoped it wasn’t because I was weak.”

  He reached over and covered her hand with his. “I’ve been inside your mind, Justice. I’ve seen parts of you no one else has, likely including yourself. The very last word I’d use to describe you is weak.”

  She flipped her hand upright and slid her fingers between his. The way she clung to him went to his head and made him feel stronger than he had in a long time. She was counting on him. Depending on him to free her from her torture.

  No matter what it took, he wasn’t going to let her down.

  By the time he pulled up to the old farmhouse, sunrise was still a couple of hours away. There was no garage, so he parked his van on the east side of the house, right up against the back steps.

  “Planning to need a fast get-away?” Justice asked.

  “Always. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  “There should be food in the fridge. Help yourself. I’m going to call Dabyr and check on things at home.”

  He did a quick sweep of the house to make sure there were no nasty surprises lurking in the dark rooms. When he was sure they were free of visitors—both animal and Synestryn—he called Tynan, the Sanguinar the rest of them looked to as their leader.

  “Are you still with the woman?” Tynan asked.

  “I am.”

  “Is she like Hope?”

  “I’m certain of it.”

  Tynan let out a long, relieved breath. “That’s good news. When will you be home?”

  “I don’t know. The last time we were at Dabyr, she seemed to be blocked off from the presence controlling her.”

  “Then why not keep her here?”

  “Because when she finally was connected to that presence again, it was…unpleasant for her. She worries that if she’s cut off too long, it could possibly even kill her.”

  Tynan sighed. “We really need you home, Ronan. There are so many people packed inside the walls now. In addition to fights between the people inside Dabyr, there are skirmishes outside every night, as if the Synestryn are testing the walls for a weakness. Our fighters are holding them at bay, but the injuries are piling up and cracks are forming in the walls faster than Lexi can mend them. We’re
stretched thin, especially when it comes to the children who still need daily care. They miss you.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t be there, but Justice and the power her blood holds has to be my priority. I have to find a way to free her.”

  “When you do, your next job must be to convince her to join us.”

  “Even if I do, she’s not going to take well to following orders.”

  “She’ll learn to obey. In time, we all do.”

  Tynan could say that only because he didn’t know Justice. If he had, he never would have used the word obey.

  “I suggest you don’t voice your hypothesis where she can hear you,” Ronan said.

  “How much more time do you need?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to try to reach the presence controlling her and communicate with it.”

  “The sun will be up soon. You’d better work fast.”

  “You as well, Tynan. Tell the children I miss them, will you?”

  “Of course. Be safe.” Tynan hung up.

  Ronan turned to find her standing in the doorway to the farmhouse kitchen with a bowl cradled in her hands. Steam rose from the surface, along with the scent of onions and spices.

  “Want some?” she asked. “I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s amazing.”

  He crossed the small living room and peered down into her bowl. Rice, beans, tomatoes and cilantro were mixed up and topped with a layer of golden cheese.

  He picked up her fork and took a bite.

  “You’re right. It is good.”

  She handed it to him. “Have mine. I’ll nuke another bowl. Nice of them to have it all laid out in individual servings. I could use elves like that myself. Eating on the road gets old fast. As in about eight years ago.”

  “You never cook for yourself?” he asked.

  “Do microwave dinners count?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “I think you know the answer to that without my help.”

  She pulled her bowl from the microwave and joined him at the little round table.

  The kitchen was old, but clean. The white cabinets had been painted a few times, badly. The hinges were covered in layers of paint. Faded red roosters decorated the space, on the walls and on plates propped behind a rail above the cabinets.

  The faucet dripped, and he made a mental note to turn in a repair request.

  “There are two bedrooms,” he said. “You can take your pick.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “In the basement.”

  “Is there a bedroom down there?”

  “No. Just a cot.”

  “Why no bed? Don’t you deserve to be comfortable too?”

  “I don’t feel much once I’m asleep. Fortunately.”

  “Why do you say that?” she asked.

  “Because most of the time, our kind are starving. Sleep is the only respite we have. That’s why so many of our kind go to sleep for decades.”

  “What?”

  “When the hunger gets too much to bear for one of our kind, we place them in a magically-enhanced sleep so they don’t have to suffer. Plus, they use much less blood in that state, so it helps us conserve what we have available. We feed them when we can, but there’s never enough.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Beneath Dabyr. We have sleeping chambers behind several layers of security. Only a few of us have access.”

  “Why such tight security? What’s someone going to do with a sleeping vampire.”

  He grimaced at the term. “It’s not what they’d do with them, but to them. They’re completely vulnerable. Even if someone were to hurt them, they won’t wake without help, without blood.”

  She took another bite and chewed slowly, as if in thought. “I’ve spent the last ten years thinking that my life sucked worse than just about anyone’s. But here you all are, unable to see the sun, starving, mistrusted, and still busting your asses to help everyone around you.” She pointed at him with her fork. “I know you did something for the little old couple who fed you. And I know it cost you power you could have used in other ways.”

  Ronan shrugged. “No one exists alone in this world. We’ve learned that the golden rule is the only way we survive. If I had to get up four times a night to pee, I’d want someone to fix it.”

  She laughed. “What?”

  “That’s what I did for Mr. Pennyfort. Enlarged prostate. And yes, it cost me something to heal him, but I still came away with what I needed.”

  “Which was what?”

  “Enough energy to get me to the next sunset.”

  She shook her curls. “Hope said that she and I are like you guys, but we’re not. We’re lucky.”

  “We all have our burdens to bear.” He set his fork in his empty bowl. “If you’re done eating, let’s see what we can do about easing yours before the sun comes up.”

  He washed their bowls, then led her to the living room.

  As in the kitchen, this space was clean but hadn’t been updated in decades. The furniture was 1980s beige plaid, to accentuate the beige carpet and walls to match. There was a lovely stone fireplace in the front wall, but it bore a sign that said it wasn’t working properly.

  This place really needed some attention.

  “Get comfortable,” he said. “This will be easier on both of us if you’re relaxed.”

  “Are you sure you have the energy for this?”

  “All I’m going to do is try to strike up a conversation. Nothing strenuous.” He hoped.

  Justice sat at one end of the couch and leaned back. Ronan sat next to her, close enough to smell her skin and feel her delicious heat.

  He wanted to touch her again, kiss her. He wanted a lot more than that, but he was used to shoving his own desires aside for a bigger cause.

  Freeing her from the presence haunting her was the only thing he could let matter right now. Later, when there was time, he promised himself he’d taste her again. This time, he would have more than just her blood. He’d taste every inch of her.

  Already the idea was making him hard and agitated. He needed to find a way to calm down and center himself so he could focus on the task at hand.

  “Just close your eyes and breathe,” he told her. “If you hear anyone in your mind or feel any pain, let me know.”

  She nodded and laid her head back, eyes closed.

  She was a stunning woman. Unearthly beautiful, with full, kissable lips and the smoothest skin he’d ever seen. The need to possess her in every way raged through him, but he shoved that all down and pulled in a deep breath.

  Traces of her blood were still inside him. Her cells had become part of his, merging into his very flesh and bone. He could feel her essence in each of them and used that to attune himself with her mind.

  Falling into her thoughts was easy now. She didn’t resist him at all. One moment he was in his own body, and the next, he was in hers, coexisting beside her spirit as if he had always been here.

  As stunning as she was on the outside, she was even more beautiful inside. Her warmth and strength radiated around him in welcome, like the hug of a long-lost friend.

  Ronan swelled to fill as much of her as he could, to get as much contact with her essence as possible.

  “Mmm,” she moaned. “That feels nice.”

  Distantly, he felt his cock harden at the sound of her pleasure. She hadn’t meant her words to be sexual, but his erection couldn’t tell the difference. It wanted to make her feel good.

  Lingering here with her like this for hours would have been easy but the weakness of day would force him to retreat from her mind soon. Before then, he had to find the presence compelling her. Make it speak to him again.

  There was something familiar about her mental pathways, as if he’d walked along them a dozen times before. Often, this kind of journey was difficult and taxing, but with Justice, it was as easy as walking over smooth ground on a warm spring day.

  He found the thick vein of duty that wove through every part o
f her and followed it back to that foggy curtain hiding her memories. Nothing here had changed. The wall was as thick and impenetrable as it had been before. Core parts of her, passed through it—duty, strength, courage—but when he tried to pass through as they did, it was as if the wall solidified to keep him out.

  The presence he’d sensed within her was linked to this barrier. He didn’t know if it had been erected by the entity, but he could feel a faint hint of intellect here.

  Perhaps the fates were watching him.

  “Can you hear me?” he asked, more with his mind than his mouth. The words may have left his lips, but he couldn’t be sure.

  His voice echoed from the other side of the fog, and for the first time, he got a sense of the vastness left hidden behind the wall.

  A lot of Justice was trapped over there, cut off from her. And from him.

  He didn’t want that. He wanted to know all of her, to bask in everything she was and had been.

  “Is anyone there?” he asked.

  Again, all that came back was the echo of his voice.

  A ripple of unease swept through Justice’s thoughts and buffeted him.

  “It’s starting,” she said.

  “What is?”

  And then he felt it—an itch at the base of her skull. The birth of a new compulsion.

  “Focus on it,” he said. “Lead me to it.”

  “I don’t know how…. Oh. There.”

  A light began to glow in the distance. It was hazy at first, but as he raced through her mind toward it, it grew bigger and brighter. He followed the beam until he reached the end and saw what caused the itch.

  A slender, silver thread, nearly too thin to see, glinted in the beam of light. It was kinked and tangled in places, rather than smooth and flowing like the rest of the elements in Justice’s mind. As he watched, the strand seemed to pulse and shiver, almost like someone was pulling on one end, trying to jerk it free.

  Was that Justice, or something else?

  “Don’t fight the compulsion,” he told her. “Accept it. Embrace it.”

  She let out a soft groan, but he could feel her mind unclench around him as she relaxed and did as he asked.

  “I have to go, Ronan. I can’t stay here.”

  “Just a moment more.”