Blood Bond

by Shannon K. Butcher

  She hadn’t been hurt anywhere else. The poison had entered her system through the wound. A brief glimpse at her memories told him how it had happened.

  Ronan doubted she’d be able to get rid of that memory as easily as he had the poison.

  Once she was clean, she took the bar and ate. He opened another and did the same. It did nothing for his hunger, but he hoped that it would make her feel better about him not taking her blood.

  “Thanks for coming to help,” she said. “I think I was in over my head.”

  “I’ll always help you, Justice.”

  She let out a humorless laugh. “Not even death can stop you.”

  “I wasn’t dead. It just seemed that way. My body shut down to heal before I lost too much blood.”

  “You had no pulse. You weren’t breathing.”

  He winked at her. “Details.”

  She smiled, and the move cracked the tension riding along her skin. “I’m glad you’re not a detail-oriented kind of guy, then.”

  “Any more clarity on the compulsion front?”

  She stared down at her water bottle. “The fates—the woman—she’s frantic. I can feel her pounding at my skull to get me to hurry.”

  “Have you felt that before?”

  “Yes, but not often.”

  “When?”

  “The night I found you for one. I knew I was almost out of time.”

  He had been. He’d nearly died that night. A few more minutes and he might have.

  “How long do we have?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Her black curls were a riot of tangles, but she was still the most glorious woman he’d ever seen. No wonder that demon had wanted to claim her as his queen.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Not long.”

  “Any idea where we need to go once we get the semi?”

  “Yeah. But you’re not going to like it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because whatever shit is about to hit the fan, it’s going to happen at Dabyr.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After hours in his office, Joseph had finally finished all the mundane work that demanded his attention. He’d almost reached his suite and the comforts of a sexy woman patiently waiting for him when he heard fast footsteps and heavy breathing coming down the hall.

  He turned to see Sibyl, her long, blond hair flying out behind her. Her cheeks were flushed and a look of stark terror covered on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Maura used our power,” she panted.

  “Okay. That’s good right? It means it’s your turn to see the future?”

  “It is. It was. I already looked to see what she’d been hiding. Now I know why she stopped stalling.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ve been planning this for a long time. She didn’t want me to see.”

  “See what?”

  “Synestryn are attacking Dabyr. Now. Tonight. Hordes of them.”

  “Are you sure.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I am.”

  His phone rang. Nicholas.

  “What’s up?”

  “I just got a call from Ronan. He has reason to believe we’ll be attacked soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “He didn’t know,” Nicholas said.

  Sibyl grabbed his arm in a frantic fist. “It’s too late. They’re almost here.”

  ***

  Madoc had just left his sleeping wife to pace off some of his nervous energy just as sirens blared through Dabyr. Lights flashed in every suite and hallway, the red color warning the inhabitants that they were under attack.

  He shut off the overhead lights and peered through the sliders as he drew his sword. The walls were still intact as far as he could see. There were no demons or signs of invasion of any kind.

  Nika waddled into the living room, wearing only a sheet draped around her body. She rubbed at her eyes with one hand, her voice sleepy and confused. “What’s happening?”

  Madoc shook his head. “I don’t know yet, but it’s not a fucking drill. Joseph would never scare us like that with so many traumatized children here.”

  His cell phone chimed. He read the group text alert aloud. “Demons attacking the west wall. All fighters report for battle.”

  Nika’s eyes went distant. He’d seen that look enough times to know she was seeking out the creatures who were unlucky enough to have ingested her blood.

  After a moment, she said, “They’re coming. With an army. Hundreds. Maybe thousands.”

  “Fuck!”

  She turned around and fast-waddled back to the bedroom.

  Madoc followed her. She was already pulling out battle leathers when he caught up with her. Hers, not his.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  “I’m reporting for battle.”

  “Like fuck you are. You’re pregnant.”

  “I’m well aware of my condition, thank you. My boobs may be too big for the jackets and I doubt any of the pants will fit me at all. Maybe if I leave them unzipped…” Her voice trailed off as if thinking through her wardrobe options.

  “You are not going into a fight.”

  “I don’t know if you’re aware or not, but it appears that the fight has come to us.” She pulled a T-shirt over her head and struggled to get it to slide down across her enlarged breasts. “What I’m not going to do is stand around and wait for demons to come barging into our home.”

  “You can’t risk the baby.”

  “The baby is fine. I’m not the first Theronai to channel magic while pregnant. Besides, our little girl might as well get a taste of what’s to come for her. Maybe she’ll learn a thing or two.”

  Madoc grabbed Nika’s shoulders and resisted the urge to shake some sense into her. “We’ll fight off the attack without you. Stay here. Stay safe.”

  “I will stay safe, but I’m going out there. Be as overprotective of me as you like on the battlefield, but don’t keep me away. You know that the two of us may be the one thing that tips the battle in our favor.”

  “I’ll go. You stay.”

  “You’ve seen what I can do.” She cupped Madoc’s face, her voice fervent. “Let me do it.” She turned away and began struggling with her leathers again. “Besides, if you leave me here, I’m just going to sneak out once you’re gone. Wouldn’t you rather be at my side.”

  Frustration and fear ground him down until his insides were a pulpy mess of anxiety.

  What choice did he have? Nika had always been able to get her way with him. That was the only reason he was still breathing—her damn stubborn relentlessness. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to change her now.

  “Fine. But you stay well back from combat.”

  Nika grinned. “That’s where I do my best work anyway.”

  “And no shedding your body to go into the minds of the demons.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that body happens to be carrying our child. I want to know you’re able to get her out of harm’s way if something sneaks up on you.”

  Nika kissed his cheek. “Agreed. I’ll stay with our daughter and teach her how to blow Synestryn to hell.”

  ***

  Justice had never felt more frantic in her life. She wasn’t going to make it in time and people were going to die.

  She pushed the semi hard through its gears, uncaring about the damage she might be doing to the rig. There wasn’t time to slow down. Seconds counted.

  Ronan was in front of her to keep any cops from seeing how fast they were going. Morgan had given him enough blood to keep him going. Justice didn’t like sharing, but the situation was dire. Ronan had to be strong enough to protect himself.

  She couldn’t lose him again.

  Morgan was bringing up the rear in case any Synestryn tried to stop them. She was in the middle, driving the clumsy semi with its 53-foot trailer filled with workout equipment and the other supplies the fates and demanded she bring. H
er duffel bag of goodies sat on the seat beside her. She didn’t understand what good a water bottle and resistance bands were going to do, but she knew better than to question the chaos.

  Their short convoy raced over county roads, blowing through small towns. It was late enough that there was little traffic—so late it was now technically early morning. Snow flurries had begun to fall, and while the air was cold, it was thick with the humidity of an impending snowstorm.

  Just what they needed.

  Ronan called her cell. She put it on speaker to keep her hands free to drive the unfamiliar rig.

  “Any word from Dabyr?” she asked.

  “All the Theronai are busy fighting. One of the humans answered, but she didn’t know how things were going. The civilians are all in hiding belowground.”

  “We’re going to be too late.”

  “We’re not. You have to believe that.”

  “What about you? You’re starving. The sun will be up in a few minutes. How are you holding up?”

  “I’ve been worse.”

  “That’s not exactly a reassuring answer.”

  “Morgan’s blood helped.”

  “Enough to keep you on your feet?”

  He changed the subject, which made her certain she was right. He was bad off.

  “Any idea what we’re supposed to do once we get there?” he asked.

  “Nothing concrete. All I know is that there’s something precious there we have to protect.”

  “There are many precious things at Dabyr. Children are at the top of that list.”

  For some reason, that didn’t feel right—at least not like the thing she was after. “What else?”

  “The Sentinel stones are a major target. With them, a powerful Synestryn might be able to break through the gate into Athanasia. We thought the Solarc had fused the gate shut, but enough Athanasians have come through to tell us that it’s at least cracked open.”

  Stones? She ran that idea by the woman in her head and felt nothing—no resonance, no twitch of desperation. Nothing.

  “Anything else?” Justice asked.

  “The pregnant women.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe. What else?”

  Ronan’s voice was filled with dread. “The Hall of the Fallen.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s the place where we honor our dead. The swords of the warriors we’ve lost hang there. If the Synestryn get their hands on those, they could find a way to release the essence of the demons killed by them.”

  If that wasn’t filled with crazy-talk, she didn’t know what was. “What? What does that even mean?”

  “It means that we can’t let them reach the swords. If they do, we’ll have lost years, if not centuries, of fighting.”

  “Holy shit. Talk about a target-rich environment. No wonder the demons want in.”

  He took a turn ahead of her and when she followed, she recognized the area.

  “We’re close,” he said. “I don’t know what we’ll face at the gates, but Joseph is supposed to clear the way for us to get in.”

  “Let’s hope he has, because I’d hate to have to plow down that gate and give the demons an easy way in.”

  ***

  Despite the frigid temperatures, sweat dripped from Joseph’s brow as he fought side-by-side with his fellow Theronai to hold the demons at bay.

  There were so many Synestryn—an endless sea of those gray, human-looking demons with patchy fur and blunt, rusty swords. They’d breached the west wall and scaled the metal gate, forcing Joseph to split his troops in two locations or risk human casualties.

  All the fragile lives of those he protected were inside the compound, hiding in safe rooms belowground. There were four large spaces, all stocked with supplies. Even if the demons made it inside, it would take them a while to locate them.

  Unless one of the humans was bleeding.

  As panicked as some of them had been, racing through the halls like mad, the chances that no one took a tumble and skinned a knee were pretty slim.

  The garage was still secure, the vehicles intact. There was still a means of escape, but not a path. The only road leading through the gate was infested with demons—too many to count.

  Ronan, Justice and Morgan were headed this way to help, but they needed a clear path inside the compound. Joseph had no idea how he was going to make that happen.

  Madoc was on his left, screaming profanities as he fought. Paul was on his right, steady and silent in his killing.

  Behind them, the women bound to them funneled power from their bodies and converted it into magic.

  Nika’s was the hardest to see, with no flashy light or fire to spill from her fingers. She could crawl inside the minds of demons and take control. Sometimes her power came through in a slight pause in the strike of the enemy’s blade, but other times, she could make their heads explode. Literally.

  Helen’s power, on the other hand, was easy to see. It rushed out of her in torrents of flame, burning every demon it touched. She’d found higher ground in the lowest branch of a tree and was methodically burning down swaths of screaming demons behind the front ranks.

  Lyka was the newest to her power, but still doing her fair share of damage. Bolts of lightning streaked low overhead, lifting the hair on his skin as they passed. Each hit sent shockwaves through the ranks of Synestryn and left dead bodies and the smell of ozone in its wake.

  Behind the women roamed the displaced pack of Slayers that had been staying at Dabyr while they rebuilt their home. Andreas Phelan and his pack were deadly, picking off any demons who managed to slip past the front line of swords and magic. They fought with teeth and claws, some more animal than man.

  There was a wild ferocity about them, as well as what seemed like sheer joy. Slayers loved the fight—whatever fight it might be—and they were deeply in their element tonight.

  Joseph was glad they were on his side.

  Still, it wasn’t enough. With every passing minute, the Theronai were being driven back, closer to the vulnerable humans hiding inside.

  Beside him, Madoc hesitated as if something had happened. A rusty blade sliced across his arm and made him falter in his swing.

  “It’s time!” he shouted over the roar of combat. There was fear clinging to those two words.

  “For what?” Joseph yelled.

  “The baby. Nika’s in labor.”

  While the Synestryn in front of them didn’t speak in any language Joseph knew, they sure as hell seemed to understand what Madoc had just said. Every one of them smiled and began to fight harder.

  That’s what this whole attack was about. They wanted his baby.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Judging by the light show coming from Dabyr, the fight wasn’t over yet.

  Lightning and fire bathed the sky in a haze of orange and flashes of white. Smoke hung low, drifting lazily in the still night. The snowfall had picked up, and a pale coating now covered the grass lining the road.

  Ronan turned the corner and saw just how bad things were.

  This wasn’t just an attack—some small skirmish. It was an all-out battle, with more demons in one place than he’d seen since the night most of their women had been slaughtered two hundred years ago.

  There weren’t enough bonded pairs of Theronai here to kill them all. Not even close. The only hope the Sentinels had of surviving this attack was holding out until the sun came up and drove the demons back into their dark hiding places.

  Ronan knew the path of the sun as intimately as he knew the beat of his own heart. It would rise in less than an hour—the eastern horizon had already begun to lighten—but even that short time was too long for his allies to hold back the invading army.

  They were losing.

  All around Dabyr, demons beat at the walls with battering rams cut from nearby trees. Stones crumbled, grudgingly giving up their hold onto each other. Where Synestryn couldn’t break through, they formed ladders with the bodies of the dead and clim
bed over on top of each other. Some of them were greeted immediately by the swords of Theronai or the teeth and claws of Slayers, but a few of them were able to slip through. As Ronan watched, one lanky, gray demon made it almost to a ground-floor window of the main building before being shot by a human on one of the upper floors.

  A bullet wouldn’t keep the creature down for long, and once it got up, there was little standing between it and the humans inside.

  The paved road was covered with sword-wielding demons. There were too many for them to plow through with their vehicles, even the giant semi. And even if they could clear the road with the rig, the gate would be the next casualty, and if that failed, there was nothing to stop a flood of Synestryn from washing onto the grounds and taking over the compound completely.

  He slowed and dialed Justice. “We can’t push through.”

  “I have to get in there, Ronan. Now.”

  “If we do that, we’ll kill everyone inside. The fighters are barely holding one line. They can’t have demons attacking their backs, too.”

  Her voice was tense, as if she was in pain. “I have to go now. Can’t wait.”

  “Okay. Just give me thirty seconds.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Back up so you can pick up enough speed to clear the gate fast. Then go. I’ll make sure the gate is open.”

  Somehow.

  Ronan called the number that went directly to whoever was manning the gate. Slade answered. Ronan gave him detailed instructions, then said. “Do not falter or we all die tonight.”

  “Got it,” Said Slade. “On your go.”

  Ronan pulled his van off the paved road onto the snowy grass, then stopped. He used his teeth to score a deep scratch on the back of his hand, then got out of his van. Then he took off on foot, upwind from the demons at the gate.

  As soon as they caught the scent of fresh blood, their heads turned in unison, as if the move had been choreographed.

  Ronan used what little power he had left to fuel his frantic run into the woods and yelled into the phone. “Now!”

  ***

  Justice sped the rig as fast as she could. There were so many damn gears in this truck, and no paddle shifter to make the job easier.