Blood Bonds (The Bonds that Tie Book 3)

IT’S TOO easy to wipe out the camp.

Too easy and unsatisfying. I wish there were more challenges or people to torture but, aside from Franklin, there’s only the women who were talking shit about me and the few guards.

Triggering their nightmares gives me a little something, a small thrill, but not enough, and I find myself eager to just tear their souls out and be done with it. Unsatisfying.

The little girl who is usually in control, she’s there somewhere at the back of my consciousness, but the best way to do what needs to be done is to keep her out of it completely. She’s too sweet for this amount of destruction.

I relish it.

I feel when they come for me, the edges of where I’ve cast out my senses tingling as they appear in the camp, but I’m too focused on the three Resistance idiots in front of me to go after those Bonds of mine.

I already know they’ll come to me. Even when their petty, human differences were getting in the way, they were still coming after me and the girl I live within.

Zarah, Linda, and the mouthy guard, Cam, are all strung up on the tent poles by their wrists, their feet dangling a little off of the ground. I have to say, they sure do make these structures strong. It had been an absolute bitch to get the three of them up there but worth every moment of that pain.

Linda and Zarah are both dead already, their minds breaking far too quickly, which was honestly predictable for the type who would believe the Resistance propaganda. The moment they’d become blubbering shells, nothing left but a heart still pumping in their chests, I’d finished the job. There’s nothing satisfying about a body going through the motions in a slow decay.

But Cam is holding out, a real sport.

He’s jerking about as he slowly chokes on the blood pouring out of his eye sockets and into his open mouth. It’s gory. I make a note to hide this memory from the girl, to tuck it so far back into the deepest recesses of her mind that she’ll never feel that useless spike of guilt over it. She will, she always does over the things I do to protect us both, but I don’t. They dared lay hands on us, so they’re dead.

I hear the tent rustle behind me but I don’t turn to look, because I don’t want to miss a second of Cam dying. I can sense something entering the enclosed space with us, but it’s not a Gifted, not even a human, and I finally force my eyes away from my prey to get a look at what is here, disturbing my work.

The serpent is as black as the darkest, starless night, though his scales still shine. It’s unnatural and dangerous and mine. I stare at him, transfixed at his beauty, with my feet rooted to the grass underfoot. A dark god in his own right.

He rears up until his eyes—void perfection—are level with mine. We stare at each other for a moment, a moment of recognition because we were made for each other, made out of each other before we were separated and put on this Earth, only to seek each other out eternally.

And then he strikes.

Not me, obviously. He’d never harm me or the girl. No, he strikes and tears Cam from where he’s hanging. Blood sprays over the tent walls, and I enjoy the sight of watching the Dark One’s creature devour those who dared to touch me.

The tent flap rustles again and they arrive. Three pieces of my soul, only one who has given me what I want, the other two just as resistant as the girl is. A ripple of irritation runs down my spine, but I step forward to stroke a hand over the shining body of the serpent, reveling at the gleam of its unnatural scales against the blood-spattered ruin of my hands.

My Bonds and their abilities are magnificent.

“What the hell is she doing?” the Shifter whispers, and the Dark One hushes him, his footsteps rustling as he approaches me. I don’t turn to face them. Instead, I watch as the last pieces of Cam are consumed in a bloody, fleshy mess. The way that he just disappears is comforting, because he deserves to be wiped from this earthly plane entirely.

The snake turns to stare at me again, its eyes taking in every inch of me but they get stuck on my leg, where the damage that Davies had done to the girl is soaking through my pants. It’s not a concern to me, nothing to get in the way of the destruction this place needs that I finally get to wage.

I’ve waited a long time inside of the girl for this moment. No injury would stop me from getting what I’m due.

When the snake slides past me, bumping along my side and back over to his master, I stand and finally turn to face my Bonds. They all stare at me with very different expressions on their faces. Shock, horror, contempt, concern, disgust. I know most of it is for the men and women here that I’ve killed, but still, I preen a little at the awe. It doesn’t matter if it’s a horrified awe, they still look at me like they know I’m a god.

Finally, the Dark One speaks, “Oleander, you’re bleeding.”

I look down and see that the tourniquet has indeed shifted, but the pain is nothing. The blood loss might affect me, but we’re not there yet.

My Bonded stops the Shifter from darting forward to me with a palm to his chest, his eyes shifting to bright white as he says, “Bonded. Let me fix it.”

I don’t really want it fixed. I want them all naked and writhing here with me, my blood covering us all and marking them; to stop playing these childish, fearful games.

His head tips back a little as his breathing deepens, his chest expanding as he reacts to my lust, and this is exactly what I want.

The Dark One steps forward past the other two without hesitation and offers me a hand, his own eyes staying the deep blue color as he keeps his own bond under control.

I want to break it.

I want to break him open and pry my Bond out of his careful casing, get the power that belongs to me unleashed and revel in our shared Bond.

He reads me a little too well and speaks slowly, measuring every word as he lets it out of his mouth, “Let us get you home and then you can have whatever you want. Whatever you need, whatever whim you have, it’s all yours. You’ll die if we don’t get the bleeding under control soon.”

I curse the useless meat casing I’m trapped in, and then take his hand. I let him move me over to the desk and lift me gently onto it to assess the damage and make adjustments to the tourniquet.

The Shifter comes back over and, hesitating just a little, he takes my other hand, threading our fingers together like he’s trying to… comfort me. I won’t break it to him that I do not need comfort.

I need to complete my Bonds and destroy everything.

My Bonded clicks his tongue at me and murmurs, “And I’d wager that’s the exact reason Oli doesn’t want to. Maybe you should calm down with the murder plans, and then you might just get what you want.”

I give him a look, but he just shrugs back at me. Infuriating. The Shifter glances back at him with a confused look, but I move my focus back on the Dark One. His fingers are firm and sure as he looks at the mess my leg is in, his body shielding the other two from the sight of it. When he notices me watching him, he murmurs, “We need to get you to a Healer. The cuts are close to the artery, and you’ve been walking on it too much. Let one of us carry you to a Transporter, and we can get you to someone.”

I cock my head at him and sigh. “The Fire girl’s Bonded. No one else.”

The Dark One nods, reaching out to stroke a hand down my cheek. “We’ll take you to Kieran, and he’ll get you to Felix. We’re only trusting our inner circle right now. I’ll get you out to him now.”

I want him, but I need strength right now and it flows through my Bonded and into me easier, thanks to our connection, so I say, “No. I want him.”

The Dark One nods without hesitation, stepping back, and my Bonded steps in to lift me up into his arms. He’s careful about the wound, one arm cradling my thigh protectively to his side, and he tucks my chest into his closely.

There are far too many layers of clothing between us for the power shift I need, but we’re moving out of the tent before I can demand he strip down and give me what I need.

The moment we’re out in the open, there are too many eyes on us.

The survivors and the cavalry alike, they all stare as we move through the camp. It’s obvious why we’re having to step over dozens of bodies to pick our way back over to the Transporter, but all of it is irrelevant to me. I don’t care about their thoughts on what I’ve done here, but from the shuttered look on my Bonds’ faces, they do.

I feel like I should point out that I’m a merciful god and I only kill those who torture, maim, and murder for their own nefarious gains. The little beings living quietly mean nothing to me.

“Jesus fucking Christ, be glad none of you can hear what’s happening in her head right now. A lot more shit about our Bond and her fear of this is making sense,” my Bonded says, and I fight the urge to reach into his chest and pull his heart out.

“You wouldn’t. You need me and we both know it.”

Still. It would be fun to do.

When we get to the edges of the tents and the small clearing, we find the Transporter waiting there for us with the other Dark One, the damaged one.

He doesn’t react to our arrival, barely looks my way, but the Transporter fumbles over himself in his relief. “Oli! Thank God! I thought—Jesus, Gryph, what happened to her?”

“She needs to get out of here, and now isn’t a great time to talk to her.”

“Oli isn’t really in right now, and her bond is trying to plan how to take over the world, so maybe give her a minute,” the Shifter says with a smirk, cocky and confident now that he knows what’s going on.

I turn my face against my Bonded’s chest to meet the Transporter’s eye, acknowledging that his words have pulled me out of the girl and wrought this destruction, and he looks back at me with such relief, like he really was sitting here with bated breath, waiting for them to find me.

I decide to keep him alive. The Fire girl, her Bonded, and this one. Maybe the mouthy Techno boy, maybe. But I’d choose them to die last, right before my Bonds and I, if it were to come down to that.

“I’ll be sure to let Sage know that too, Bonded.”

I give him a withering glare that does nothing to remove the smirk on his lips. “Get out of my head, nosy Bonded, or maybe I’ll rethink my plans of tearing your heart out.”

He chuckles under his breath. “I have to admit, it’s fun seeing this side of you. I can’t help it. Besides, you ran off into danger again without any of your Bonds. You owe me a little fun.”

There’s no time to tell him exactly how that is not the case, that I owe all of them nothing and they should all be worshipping me for merely existing, because the Transporter walks back over to us and with a steady, bloodied hand offered to me, he says, “Let’s get the fuck out of here before anyone else gets cut up.”

I’m expecting to go back to the Draven mansion, but instead we pop back into existence in a large warehouse full of men dressed in Tac gear and Healers wearing white coats to make them easily distinguishable. There are already freed prisoners being looked at by Healers and when they notice our arrival, a group of them come rushing at us.

I don’t like that.

Even knowing they’re not Resistance, I don’t like being rushed, and especially not with four of my Bonds standing here with me. The moment I tense, my Bonded turns on his heel, putting his back between us and the Healers, and he snaps, “Back up! You’re about to get fried.”

“Or eaten,” the other Dark One drawls, three of his creatures baring their teeth at the approaching men, and though they look like perfect beings to me, all three men gulp from where I can see over my Bonded’s shoulder.

Pathetic.

The Dark One steps out in front. “We need Felix Davenport. We brought him with us specifically to see to our Bond.”

One of the men sputters indignantly and snaps, “He’s a third year student! A councilman’s Bond should be seen by—”

“She will be seen by Davenport and no one else. It’s not your decision to make, Payne.”

A Healer called Payne? I feel like the girl would enjoy that greatly. There’s a lightness in my head and I rest my forehead back down onto my Bonded’s chest, taking slow breaths to stop the swirling there. His arms tighten again and then he snaps, “Get the fuck out of the way before I hack into your brain and dredge up enough information to bury you.”

There’s more murmuring but then the Healer calls out, “I’m here! I was just getting Kyrie settled with some fluids, where’s Oli—Jesus fucking Christ. Put her down; that’s enough blood to kill a man, and that position is just making it worse.”

My Bonded steps over to one of the stretchers, but instead of putting me down, he takes a seat, moving my legs around so that the Healer will have access to them. One of his big palms slides under my shirt to flatten over my spine, holding me securely against his chest, and it heats up as his gift spreads through my body.

The pain I know is there but don’t actually feel disappears.

I sigh and turn to look at the Healer who is eyeing me carefully. My Bonded’s arms tighten around me protectively, the palm almost scalding on my bare skin. He’s very sensitive about everything in this room, the eyes and the words, everything is getting him ready for war.

I wonder what he’s hearing that our ears can’t.

“Watch yourself, Davenport. I’m not in the mood for excusing disrespect after everything we’ve been through today,” he snaps, and the Healer throws his hands up like he’s anticipating a fist to the jaw.

“This isn’t being disrespectful. I’ve healed her enough to know exactly what she can do and how much power she has. I’m being cautious in case she’s having some problems with control. We both know that’s been an issue.”

This makes him pause a little, just to look at me, but my void eyes give him nothing back. I feel my power winding down, the threat taken care of and none of the Gifted here a concern to any of us. Any one of my Bonds could crush these people like wet paper.

The Dark One glances down at me and then crouches down until he’s back at my level, his voice firm as he says, “Give Oleander back so we can heal you.”

I scowl at him. “No. I’m not giving her back while there’s still pain. I don’t let her feel it.”

The arms tighten again, and then the Healer crouches down next to the Dark One. “If you can promise you’ll be in control while I do what I need to, I’ll do it. I’ll take your word for it, because Gryphon will have to stop blocking the pain while I do.”

My Bonded answers for me without hesitation, “No. You’re not healing her while she can feel it.”

The Healer shakes his head. “I can’t pinpoint all of the damage if she can’t feel the pain, I’m sorry. If I miss something, it could kill her later. I’m not willing to take that chance. Other Healers might, I won’t. There’s too much at stake here, and I’m not losing Oli because you’re concerned about her feeling pain. I get it, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m sorry.”

I lean forward to be sure that I have his full attention, which I perhaps didn’t need to do because I think I have the entire room’s full attention right now, and say, “I won’t harm you so long as you don’t harm me or mine. Not now, not ever. The pain is nothing, only the girl feels it and she’s sleeping right now. Do what you need to.”

He nods, taking me at my word, and then he pulls up a seat next to the stretcher and gets to work. He explains where he’s putting his hands and why he’s touching me each time he moves and he gets my consent, the ultimate professional, and some of the tension leaves the space as my body slowly knits itself back together with his gift’s guidance.

When he shifts again to press a palm over one side of my neck to check for brain injuries and any damage the drugs might have done to me, he drawls to my Bonded, “I don’t know what you’re fussing over her for. She’s taking this better than anyone I’ve ever healed. Ease up a little, Shore. She still needs to breathe.”

“I saw your face when you showed up to Draven’s the day Benson set a building on fire for you, don’t pretend like you’re above Bonded behavior,” he snaps back.

After another few minutes of work, the Healer pulls his palm away from me and shifts in his seat, glancing over his shoulder at the audience of Healers and TacTeam still crowded around our perimeter before he shrugs out of his jacket.

“Gabe, give me a hand. I’ll cover her and shut my eyes, so don’t break my arm, but she needs skin-on-skin to finish the healing. Get her shirt off. Gryphon, you strip down too. Just to your waist.”

The Dark One steps forward as well, taking his own jacket off and moving the Healer aside to take his place. Then the three of my Bonds all move me and fuss until I’m half naked and straddling my Bonded’s thighs, our naked chests pressed together, with a jacket thrown over my back and my Bonded’s strength flowing easily into me, thanks to our connection. I can feel my body breathing him in, taking everything I need from his vitality while he takes the same from me, a sharing of our resources, until I have everything I could ever need from him.

I finally take a deep, fulfilling breath.

“Holy shit, is it supposed to look like that?” the Shifter mutters, and the Healer side-eyes him with a small shrug. I let my eyes flutter shut as I soak in the power, the girl’s body slowly shutting down after the use of power. It always does, not used to channeling so much because she never lets me out.

The Healer’s murmured words drift into my head slowly. “It’s not usually so dramatic but yes, they’re sharing power. It looks more… bright because she’s so strong.”

I drift off into unconsciousness, my hold on the girl still strong because I don’t want her waking up while the healing is still underway, and I lose track of time. I only become aware of things happening around me when my Bonded speaks again, the sound loud in my ear that’s pressed against his chest.

“Take your shirt off. She’s scenting again and needs more. We need to get Bassinger to be ready for us back at the house as well. She’s going to need us all.”

The stretcher moves as someone else sits down, and then I’m moved over into the Shifter’s arms, pressed firmly against his bare chest next. He smells warm, goosebumps exploding along his skin as I bury my nose into the crook of his neck.

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, knowing that when they open again, it will no longer be me in charge and the girl will be back to deal with the consequences of my actions to save us.

But we’re alive, mostly unscathed, and she won’t remember the brunt of it. That has to be enough.