Binding Ties (10 page)

“No. I want you to take my power into your body. I crave it.”

Because she was touching him, she could sense another layer of want and craving coming from him. Dark, primal, sexual. His power was not the only part of him he wanted her to take inside her body.

He wanted to fuck her, fill her.

She jerked away from him, rocked to her foundation. Feeling his desire had heightened her own, making her think of things she had no business thinking. “I won't sleep with you, Theronai. Get that thought out of your head right now.”

Instead of looking ashamed, he grinned. “You can sense my thoughts so soon? I never thought you'd trust me like that so quickly.”

“I don't trust anything except that you want to bone me.”

He frowned. “You seemed so certain, as if you knew what was in my head.”

“Don't go getting the wrong idea. What I read coming from you was nothing special. I always know what people want.”

Joseph grinned like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

“What?” she asked.

“It's just that I would have thought your gift would have been something a little more . . . violent. Instead, you're the perfect diplomat.”

A surge of rage took over. The next thing she knew, she'd swept his legs out from under him and had him pinned to the ground. She was straddling his abdomen, her hand around his throat. “You take that back.”

His grin was still in place. Her sending him to the ground did nothing to change that. “Make me.”

She couldn't see his sword but knew it was there. She felt around on his belt for the hilt. The second she got close, his hand clamped over hers. He flipped her over until she was the one pinned to the ground. Even though she felt her body weight shift, there wasn't a thing she could do to stop him. He was too strong.

And he wasn't even straining with effort.

“Not like that,” he said. “If you don't want me to see you as a diplomat, then let me in that pretty head of yours. Show me what a fighter you really are.”

She tried to buck his weight off of her, but it was like trying to move a Sentinel Stone. He weighed a ton and was in complete control of her limbs, with her arms pinned by her ears. He straddled her thighs, rendering her legs useless.

By the time she'd given up on using physical strength against him, she was panting and sweating, despite the chilly night air.

“I told you I know too many secrets. I'll never let you in my head.”

“Fine,” he said, clearly not believing a word she said. “Then take a look in mine. I have nothing to hide. Maybe if you take a peek, you'll figure out how to get what you want.”

The image of him naked between her thighs, his mouth and tongue working to give her pleasure, came to mind. Her arms were bound over her head by silken rope; her legs were pinned wide by his big hands. The vision was so clear and detailed, she went still in shock.

It took her a second to realize that her gift was working overtime, showing her exactly what it was he wanted. Now, in this moment. If she displayed even the slightest
interest, she was certain his desires were strong enough that he would pursue them.

Something deep inside her quivered in eagerness. In desperation. Every muscle in her body softened, as if needing to give in to his fantasy.

She couldn't do that to herself. She couldn't let this man seduce her and entrench himself any deeper into her life than he already had. It was bad enough that she'd tied herself to a partner who might, at any moment, become her enemy again. She couldn't also sleep with him.

“Let me up,” she demanded.

“You're strong enough to free yourself if you want to.”

No, she wasn't. When it came to sheer physical strength, he outmatched her completely. If he'd been a human male, he'd already be swimming his way back to shore from where she flung him. But he wasn't human. He was Theronai. A big, irritating, muscle-bound Theronai.

“Get. Off.”

“You're not even trying,” he said with boundless patience. “Find the thread of power dangling from the luceria and pull on it.”

She didn't know what he meant, but she was both pissed off and turned on enough to do whatever it took to put some distance between them.

Lyka closed her eyes and felt for something—anything. The quivering band around her throat was brimming with power. She could almost feel its energy glowing against her skin. Everywhere Joseph's flesh met hers, there was a hot vibration—an intense connection that was both distracting and somehow the key to her struggle.

She ignored the fact that he was a tasty hunk of man
who wanted her and splayed her hands around his bare arms. Muscles tensed in response to her touch, warming the tips of her fingers. It was there she felt the most vibration, so she slid her hands along his skin, following where the energy led.

A rough moan of desire rumbled from his chest, reminding her that he was flesh and blood. And that he wanted her.

She lost her concentration for a moment before gathering her wits again for another try. This time, she knew where to touch him—where that power was being housed.

Her fingers slid under his shirt and up over his lifemark. She could feel the branches tremble and sway beneath her fingertips. That alone was amazing enough, but what really shocked her—what pulled every bit of her attention—was the mammoth pool of power seething just under his skin.

She could sense it now, but had no idea how to reach it.

“Use the luceria,” he told her. “It's the only way to get what you want.”

The blasted band around her neck buzzed eagerly. As did Joseph's ring. His hand was on her shoulder, only inches away from her collar. They both vibrated at exactly the same frequency.

With one hand still on his lifemark, she grabbed his wrist and slid his fingers to her necklace. The two pieces of the luceria snapped together like magnets.

Lyka's whole world lit up from the inside out. That string of power he'd mentioned was there, dangling right in front of her. It pulsed with color and light, bulging with the kind of magic she could never have believed was real until she felt it.

“I found it,” she whispered in awe.

“Yes. Now use it.”

This power she had at her fingertips—this was the key to saving her pack mates. This was her path to freedom.

As that thought formed in her mind, Joseph's weight vanished from atop her. The back of her hand burned where his shirt raked against it. She heard a grunt and a heavy splash.

The flow of power cut off like a switch had been flipped. When she opened her eyes, she saw Joseph swimming back toward her, his face grim.

His power had done her bidding, and now a very wet, very angry Theronai was headed her way.

E
ric took careful mental notes of his surroundings as he made his way through the system of caves. His Slayer vision allowed him to see in dim light, but he also noticed that there were several torches burning here and there.

He'd been in enough caves to know that wasn't normal—Synestryn neither enjoyed nor needed light.

As he passed gatherings of those mostly furless guards, he realized that they were the ones who seemed to need the light. Perhaps whatever the Synestryn had done to create them had taken away some of their innate ability to dwell in darkness.

He spied several piles of the guards sleeping in chambers off the main pathway. Like the Slayer young, they seemed to be sharing body heat as they slept, huddled in groups for warmth.

Maybe that was something he could use against them.

He peered through every opening and crevice he could see, but there was no sign of the two children who'd been separated from the group. The system of caves was long and elaborate, leaving a lot of unexplored areas.

If he couldn't locate the kids, it could easily take him a week to find them, and that was if he didn't have to fight his way through every turn.

“Here we are,” said Treszka, as they arrived at their destination.

He was too far away from the young now to do anything to protect them. They were on their own, a fact that hovered in the back of his mind like a vulture waiting for its prey to die.

He followed her flowing skirts into a large stone chamber. The floor here was relatively level, covered with rugs and pillows. A large iron bed filled half the space, leaving the other side open as some kind of sitting area, complete with upholstered furniture.

The whole place smelled . . . odd. Almost human, beneath the caustic stench he'd come to associate with Treszka.

“Have a seat,” she said, waving toward a love seat.

What the hell? After hours of being on that rock floor, a soft surface looked pretty damn good.

Eric sat and was instantly surrounded by that strange human smell. It took him a second to realize that it wasn't regular leather he was sitting on. It was skin. Human skin.

Revulsion surged up his throat, but he choked it down rather than give her the satisfaction of seeing his distress.

She eyed him with an air of amused expectation.

“This is nice,” he said, running his hand over the seat. “Young virgins?”

Her black eyes narrowed in irritation, but she hid it quickly. “Are you hungry?”

He stretched out on the love seat. “Sure. I could go for some tacos. Maybe a loaded pizza. There's a great little hole-in-the-wall I know of that delivers.”

“Human food? I would have thought better of you, Slayer.”

He shrugged. “Human food didn't make so damn many people fat by being unappetizing. You should try it sometime.”

She was getting pissed. He could smell her anger falling out of her, see it in the way her white pupils constricted. “You will eat what I provide or not at all.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He forced himself to stare into her freaky eyes. “Just know that if you try to feed me meat from a human or one of my own, I will kill you where you stand.”

She beamed. “That's what I want to see. Fire. Spirit.”

“You want me to come after you?” he asked. “Hell, honey, why didn't you say so?” He stood, and several guards took a step forward, weapons raised.

“Stand down,” she told the guards. “He wouldn't be able to kill me on his best day. And with that lump on his head, today is far from his best day.” She clapped her hands twice, and instantly another demon entered the room, as if he'd been waiting for the invitation.

“Vazel, I'd like you to meet our guest, Eric Phelan.”

Vazel loped across the room, eyeing Eric with suspicion. He was grotesquely built, with knobby patches of skin on every joint. He wore only a loincloth that shared way too much with the world. His head was bald and fleshy, with an almost reptilian texture. His thin lips were pulled back in a snarl of warning, showing off several pointed teeth as well as gaps where more had once been. His arms were too long for his frame. He had only three fingers on each hand, and two of them had an extra joint. His skin was a pale gray color, with mangy patches of gray fur.

For a moment, Eric wished he were unable to see in the dark.

“Eric, I'd like you to meet my second in command, Vazel.”

No way in hell was he going to touch this demon. Instead, he nodded in greeting, pretending like Vazel wasn't the ugliest thing he'd seen in decades of fighting ugly demons.

“You should kill him,” said Vazel, the words slurred through sharp teeth.

“We talked about this. He's a Slayer. I need him,” she said.

“Bad blood,” said Vazel. “Too far from our own. No power. He's a bad match.”

They thought Eric didn't have power? That was good to know. If they didn't think he could defend himself, they might let down their guard.

“He is perfect,” she said.

“I hate to get in the way of a good argument,” he said, “but you promised me dinner.” He didn't know how he was going to hide enough food to feed the young, but he had to make an effort. There was no way of knowing if they'd be provided for otherwise.

“Of course,” said Treszka. “Send them in.”

Eric smelled his kin before he saw them. The two missing young were shackled around the neck. A heavy chain dangled down, dragging on the ground before sweeping back up into the hands of one of the demon guards. Each of the boys carried a tray of food. Their eyes glittered with tears, but neither of them let those tears fall.

Eric did his best to hide his relief and the anger that followed swiftly on its heels. “Are you hurt?” he asked them.

“They're untouched,” said Treszka. “And will remain that way as long as you obey.”

Yeah. Obedience wasn't really his thing. It took all his
self-control to stay where he was and not rush to their sides. “Are you hurt?” he repeated, looking each boy in the eyes.

Both shook their heads but didn't open their mouths.

“They're not allowed to speak,” she explained. “They know the rules. Now come and eat.”

The food smelled good. Untainted. There was some kind of charred beef and even some fruit—not at all what he would have expected down here.

“Serve us,” ordered Treszka.

The young scurried to obey. They set the trays down on a small table. Eric could hear their stomachs rumbling from here.

He sniffed the food carefully, letting his powerful nose search for even the slightest sign of toxin or filth. All he smelled was food. Plain, but safe.

“I won't eat until they do,” he said.

“You will eat when I tell you to do so,” she said.

She lifted one black-tipped finger. That was all.

The guards holding the chains attached to the boys' collars jerked on them, knocking the young to their hands and knees. One of them stifled a sob, but Eric still heard it.

He took a step toward her.

Vazel was faster than his appearance would suggest. He drew a sword and leveled it against Eric's chest, pressing hard enough to draw a trickle of blood.

“You will not touch her,” said Vazel.

“Touching her is the absolute last thing I want to do, but if she hurts those kids again, I'm going to have to put her in the ground.”

Vazel growled. Treszka laughed. “Boys, boys. No need to fight over me. Let's all sit down and have a nice meal together.”

At the smell of Eric's blood, nearby demons became agitated. He could hear the wave of restless hunger race out of the chamber and through the system of caves.

He stared down at the grotesque demon. “If you don't take that steel out of my skin, we're going to have a problem with the other demons.”

“She controls them with absolute authority.”

Eric eyed the demon. “Got your dick in a drawer, too, does she?”

Vazel growled.

“That's enough! Sit!” Treszka's face darkened with rage.

Vazel sat. Eric shook his head. “I don't eat while the young suffer. Period. If you can't handle that, then we're done here.”

She smiled sweetly at Eric. “You're not in charge here, Slayer. I am.” Before he could react, she addressed the guards. “Feed the scrawny one to the troops. Make the other one watch.”