Blood Bonds (The Bonds That Tie, #3)

by J. Bree

“And that’s how the Resistance keeps winning, by putting on a kind and loving face to win simpering women over.”

Nox just smirks and his eyes flash black as he prepares to get them all off of his back with his creatures but instead, he stiffens for a second, and then he snaps at North, “She’s given the creature to Kyrie. He’s not hers to just give away.”

North’s eyes snap up at him, but then Nox curses under his breath and mutters, “She handed him off… for protection in the camps. She knows what happens to the women there.”

then Sage throws a hand at him in a cutting gesture, snapping, “What a terrible, ‘simpering’ woman she is, running off to save people! Even when she’s trapped in one of those fucking camps, she’s thinking about others. So you go right ahead and tell me what idiots we both are for believing Atlas, because your word means nothing to me. Nothing, Draven...

North’s gift feels a lot like Oli’s does, a tightness in your chest as he calls on it, and a slow smirk stretches over my face. He usually disposes of prisoners once we’re done with them by using his death touch. Quick, efficient, and clean. That’s him down to a T. Oli disappearing again has snapped his control, and I, for one, am glad to see it. Glad that she’s dug her way as deeply under his skin as she’s burrowed under mine.

I scoff and meet his eyes one last time as August pops out of North’s palm, salivating and snarling already, to say, “A monster sticks an explosive in a nineteen-year-old girl’s head just to save his own skin. A monster walks into a fourteen-year-old girl’s hospital room after her entire family was killed in an accident to threaten her into captivity. You think we’ve been monsters so far? You haven’t seen what we’re truly capable of yet… but now you will.”

“We’re getting you in therapy when we get back. I’ll make sure they all know how much you need it.”

Over my dead body. I don’t know why I feel so adamant about that. Talking through my issues would probably be for the best, but my bond in my chest instantly rejects the very idea of it.

North and Nox both work in Teams when there’s a need. Do they both go as well? Why do I suddenly want to burst into inappropriate giggles at the very thought of Nox sitting there talking about his feelings? I mean, if any of my Bonds needs therapy, it’s that one.

“You really want my bond getting an eyeful of what he’s offering and wanting to complete the Bond? You know what? Hell yeah! I’ll probably end up strong enough to pull your souls out through your nostrils, even with Franklin here. Go on, Bond. Get your pants off for me.”

Kieran smirks, putting on the cockiest demeanor as he pushes himself up onto his knees and reaches for his pants zipper. I give him serious kudos in my head for playing along with me without question.

I’m surprised at how much I truly care. Me, not my bond. I don’t want to upset Gryphon or any of the rest of them by looking at another naked man. Jesus, this Bond shit is unbelievable because six months ago, I would’ve gone to an all-male strip club just to mess with them, and now the very thought of that gives me hives. The guys all better feel like this or I’m going to castrate the lot of them.

God, I miss him. I miss North’s caring and domineering ways, Atlas’ complete acceptance and love for me, and Gabe’s loyalty to me, kind and savage and sure. I even miss worrying about Nox’s loathing and his dream-like bed with a hundred nightmares keeping watch over us both, and I fucking miss Brutus like a hole in my heart.

Nothing makes Davies angrier than my faultless ability to empty my brain out. He had no idea that one of my fathers, Vincenzo, had been a Neuro. He was the stay-at-home father with whom I’d spent the most time with, and even as a small child, he’d played this simple game with me—how many different ways can we empty our minds to utter blankness? Even as a very little girl, I’d be quizzed and tested until I could become a calm, blank canvas.

I wonder often if he’d known that someday I’d be facing this man, if my mother’s dreams of oleander flower-filled cribs also showed a madman obsessed with breaking inside my mind to destroy my life, and that’s why Vincenzo had been the one chosen to primarily raise me. It makes more sense than I want to admit.

My control slips for a second and my body is instantly flooding with Gryphon, his bond reaching out to me and breaking down the last of my barriers in a single sweep, and his voice is booming in my head. WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

I watch as Davies’ eyes flash wide and I slam my barriers back up, cursing myself a thousand times over for slipping and letting my Bonded in. One split second and I’ve ruined everything that I’ve spent five years guarding and protecting with my goddamn life.

“And who was that, my precious little Soul Render?”

I remember thinking how scary it was that North was almost a decade older than I was. The five years between me and Gryphon and Nox seemed like so much as well. I wanted so badly to know Gabe and Atlas because they were only a few months older than me, and I wanted friendship until we were old enough to Bond.

I spent a few short hours in that hospital planning and hoping and wishing that they’d hurry up and take me away from the horror of what had happened to my family. And then I never thought of them again. I never let myself.

I’ll take the pain for as long as I can and then I’ll let my bond take over to finish this session off. If Davies forces me to kill innocent people then… well, I’m a monster, because if it keeps my Bonds and our loved ones safe, then I’ll fucking loathe it but accept it. I hate myself, but it’s the line I’ve drawn here.

I manage to convince myself of it too, right up until he actually starts hacking at my thigh, and then a scream rips out of my mouth, ragged and hoarse. Gryphon is pounding at my barrier, my head thumping with it, and I need to puke.

I blink my eyes open finally, but Davies is focused on Kieran. When I glance over to where he’s chained, he still looks like he’s halfway to his grave, but there’s a determined gleam in his eyes as he says, “Her other Bond, the one in her head, you’ll want him. He’s stronger than I am. If she Bonds with him, she’ll get the kick of power you want from her. He’s a Neuro, like you… he’s a lot like you, actually. From the moment they met, he’s been in her head. If anyone will be able to help you control her bond, it’s him. Just stop fucking cutting her up, and I’ll tell you where he is.”

Davies decides to prove a point and presses the knife down harder, slicing through the muscle there, and my bond finally kicks in, taking over for me to spare my mind from the agony, and then I finally feel nothing. My bond soaks it all up for me like the greatest sponge in the world.

“Kill him, Oli… kill Franklin…” I don’t understand what he’s saying. But my bond does. And then there’s nothing but death and pain, blood and destruction. I might be utterly fucked from the drugs, but my bond has always been stronger than anyone will ever comprehend, and no one threatens me without facing the dark god living inside me.

Gryph lurches away from the table with a bark, his chair crashing to the ground. The blood drains from his face as he feels it. The ghost of Fallows’ pain as if it’s his own. My bond begins writhing in my chest, that terrible thing it does now around her, but whatever is happening in the Resistance camps, Gryph can sense it stronger, thanks to their connection.

Someone is hurting their Bond. I know it because I can feel the echo as well, the sensation of pain that isn’t my own, and my palms immediately break out in a sweat. My bond wants to find her, to save her, to take the pain for her and tear apart whoever dared lay a hand on her. She’s not mine. I shouldn’t feel this way about her. I should feel this way about anyone. I know better than to fall for these tricks, and there’s no way I’m ever putting myself back in that situation. Never.

Kill them all. Filthy heathens, touching what’s ours. I shake my head as though it’ll clear the sound of my bond away. My creatures don’t like sharing, not even with the others, and no matter how much I tell them that I won’t have her, they don’t want someone touching her either.

I check in with Azrael, the shadow that stays with her that she’s doing her best to domesticate, to figure out what the hell is happening there. Kyrie is still in one of the cages, unharmed, but trapped nonetheless. There’s no sign of danger or trouble yet. I tell Azrael to be on high alert and he whines a little at being away from Fallows if there’s danger, his soft spot for her a mile wide.

North looks over at me and I know that it’s game over for him. That’s the last puzzle piece in the mystery that is his Bond. Now he knows everything he ever needed to know about her. He’s done for; hook, line, and sinker. He belongs to her now, whether he’s admitting it to himself yet or not.

“The thigh break happened when we arrived. The blood infection is because they wouldn’t treat it. I snapped my own ankle about a half hour ago to get out of the restraints to get Oli to take out John Franklin, the Resistance’s strongest Shield, so I could get back here. She did, by the way, her bond finally kicked in, and I got her off the torture table before I came here. I checked her bleeding and made sure all of the tourniquets on her were secure. She’ll be fine there as long as Davies doesn’t get back before we get her out. Not to be an asshole, Davenport, but you need to get a move on.”

“You had sepsis, your kidneys were shutting down, and you were about twelve hours away from complete organ failure. Sorry it’s taking a minute to stop your impending death.”

“We’ve just walked into a massacre and our Bond is lying injured in here somewhere… you’re not even going to attempt to find her first?”

I look over at the piles of bodies, dozens of them lying wherever they’ve fallen in death, and then back at him. “I’m not an idiot. This? This is our little poisonous Bond. She’s doing just fine. There are other Gifted here who can’t kill people at will.”

North pushes past us both, his own creatures coming out in full force, and he snaps, “Find our Bond first, then we’ll take i...

Gabe stalks after him, looking a little shell-shocked, even though he’s the only one of us to see her death powers up close, but he’s also unwavering as he hunts for her. Gryph barks out commands to his team before he goes after the two of them, completing the triad...

The only part of me desperate to get back to her is currently standing guard in the women’s prisoner tents, so I’ll be heading there to check that nothing has actually happened to Azrael or Kyrie before I trip over myself after some Bond.

Rahab, Procel, and Mephis follow closely after me as we work our way through the tents, all of them taking on their savage Doberman forms.

Mine. I curse and pull the gaiter up further, obscuring my face so that none of the Alpha team freak out at how furious I look when it’s just my bond and the creatures I’m dealing with. Bonds are dangerous, I’m not leaving myself open like that, and even if every last one of my creatures fall into obsession with her like Azrael has, I still won’t have her. Not even for a taste of that power.

Kyrie jumps onto her feet the moment she sees my outline, and I see her deflate a fraction when she realizes it’s me and not her brother. I’m not going to be offended. They were close growing up and losing their parents only made them lean on each other even more.

“Thank God. Please tell me you’ve gotten Ol...

She scoffs at me and reaches up to pull her honey-colored hair away from her shoulder, revealing where Azrael is hiding in his smallest form. “She gave me this, even though I’m sure he would’ve been helpful to her. He saved me from being gang-raped in the showers by Resistance scum, so excuse me for worrying about the kid.” Jesus fucking Christ.

Azrael looks up at me with soft eyes, ones he should not be so open about showing in mixed company, and whines like a pup. She’s ruining him. The more time he spends with her, the more he craves the gentle and loving tones she gives him. All of the belly scratches and soft pets… he’ll be useless in a fight soon. He whines again and I roll my eyes. “Fine, you can go find her. Don’t eat anyone on the way.”

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 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.

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.

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.

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 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.