Binding Ties (13 page)

Its face was oddly proportioned, with a protruding mouth and nose—the clear remnants of a beast with a muzzle somewhere in its lineage. Its teeth were sharp, its eyes huge and black, with no whites showing at all. Saliva wet its chin and ran down its neck, leaving a damp patch on the front of its coat.

If not for the stench it put off, the thing could have almost passed as an exceptionally ugly human.

She tried to summon the beast inside her, but as was the case whenever she needed her tiger the most, it evaded her. It would come out and play whenever she didn't want it, but put her life in danger, and it was nowhere to be found.

Fucking pussy.

Joseph stepped in front of Lyka to take the brunt of the charge. The ring of metal on metal filled the trees. The force of the demon's blow rocked Joseph back on his heels.

“Another one coming. Get behind me!” he shouted.

Maybe he was used to most people cowering behind him, but Lyka was not most people. She was trained for this. Bred for it. Her whole family came from a long line of warriors. Sure, maybe they could shift into their animal form and she couldn't, but she was armed and wasn't about to let a little thing like being stuck in her human form slow her down.

That's why she carried poisoned weapons and knew how to use them.

As the second demon charged, Lyka shifted her stance to the left to get out of Joseph's way. She didn't want to impede his swing, and she really didn't want him fending off two demons at once. She'd never seen him in a real fight, and she didn't want to find out the hard way that he had a blind spot.

Lugging his heavy ass out of here was not her idea of a good time.

The second demon leapt over a fallen log. Its sword had the benefit of reach over her weapons, but she was faster. Once it was airborne, it could no longer control its movement. But Lyka was still firmly attached to the ground and she could.

She ducked under the creature, rolling beneath its feet. She came up on the far side, shoving one of her daggers high. The blade hit the billowy coat, but she could tell by the drag in her strike that she'd tagged flesh, too.

Now all she had to do was stay alive until the poison did its thing.

The angry demon whirled on her. She backed away, heading toward a large boulder nearby. Climbing on that would give her an advantage of height, which might be enough to keep her alive. Plus, every demon she drew away from Joseph was one fewer he had to fight.

A quick glance over her shoulder showed her that he was definitely still fighting. Only there wasn't just one creature on him; there were three.

She'd never seen anyone his size move with such speed and grace. His sword swung so fast that it was simply an arc of silver slicing through the air. Every strike hit, lopping off limbs and skewering flesh. Within seconds, he had all three of the demons in a pile at his feet.

And he hadn't even broken a sweat.

She was so amazed at his skill that she forgot to look where she was going. Her foot caught on a fallen branch and she went down hard.

The hair on her nape stood up so fast it hurt. She rolled onto her back just in time to see the demon she'd injured lift its sword to slice her in two.

Even if she got her daggers up in time to parry the attack, it wasn't going to be enough to stop the blow. There was too much power behind it, and she had nowhere to go.

She wasn't ready to die yet, but she took comfort in knowing that if she did, at least she would die at home.

J
oseph saw the demon's blow speeding toward Lyka's head. As it did, the end of his world played out in his mind.

He saw her die, saw her bleed out into the ground where so many of the Slayers had perished. He saw Andreas's grief and anger, and the end of a treaty meant to save both of their kind from self-destruction. He saw the clash of the races—Theronai against Slayer. Both lost as Synestryn spread out across the countryside, destroying everything they touched.

Joseph couldn't let that happen. He'd sworn to protect his woman with his life, and, in doing so, save Theronai, Slayers and humans alike.

He drew into himself minute sparks of power to speed his body. The pain of collecting that energy bore down on him, but he accepted it as the price for doing what had to be done.

His body wasn't meant for this kind of stress, and as he raced over the ground, seeing no more than a blur of movement around him, agony consumed him.

The demon's sword began its descent toward Lyka's
sweet throat. He could hear it humming as it sliced through the air.

She lifted her daggers to defend herself, but even a Slayer wasn't strong enough to stop a blow from that heavy blade.

Joseph launched himself into the air. He slammed into the demon, knocking it sideways as the heavy sword made contact with her crossed blades.

He landed on top of the demon, feeling something hard punch his stomach. He ignored the pain and wrestled his way to the top. The demon's face twisted with a grimace of agony, and it let out the screaming howl of a dying animal. Its black eyes frosted over, going snowy white. Beneath its pale skin, its veins pulsed with dark blood, which seemed to harden into stiff bulges along its limbs. Within seconds, it went limp as it died.

As soon as the threat passed, all the strength seeped out of Joseph. It took every ounce of energy he had to keep his sword in his grip.

Lyka scrambled to her feet and came to his side. He couldn't find the energy to stand or even lift his hand to ask for her help.

“Joseph,” she said, her face going white and her pretty golden eyes widening. “You're hit.”

He had no idea what she meant until he looked where she was looking. The hilt of a crude sword stuck out of his gut. The blade had gone all the way through him and he'd barely felt it.

He started feeling it now, though.

Joseph reached for the sword to pull it out, but Lyka stopped him, batting his hands away easily. “No. You pull that, and you'll bleed to death. We need a Sanguinar. Fast.” She pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and dialed.

“Joseph's been injured. We need help. Now.” Her voice shook so hard the words were barely decipherable.

He heard a man's voice come through the phone's casing, but couldn't make out the words.

“No. If I move him, he's dead. You need to send someone here.”

Joseph almost asked if it was really that bad, but a cold wave of pain tore through him, forcing him to grit his teeth to hold back a cry of pain.

He didn't want Lyka to think he was weak. She already thought of him as soft from his desk job. To have her think he couldn't hold his own in battle was unthinkable.

Whoever was on the phone with her spoke again, this time with a little more concern coming through in his tone.

“I'll do what I can, but I'm no healer,” she replied.

The man on the line began shouting orders, presumably to someone around him.

Lyka clenched the phone harder. “Tell him to hurry, Nicholas. Seconds count.” She hung up and pocketed the phone. Her hands were shaking.

Joseph pulled in a slow breath so he'd have air to speak. “Good news?” he asked.

She knelt beside him, patting his shoulder gently. “Ronan is nearby. He's on his way.”

Blood trickled down his spine, reminding him to hold very still. “Don't worry about me. Keep an eye out for more demons.”

A wave of deep fear and worry flickered through him, and he knew instantly that it wasn't his own. The luceria was channeling her emotions to him, as it was designed to do.

He only wished they'd been happier ones.

He found the tiny conduit that connected them. He could sense the potential for powerful magic to flow between them, but right now, there was nothing there but the potential for more. He'd never been bonded to a female Theronai before and wasn't entirely sure how it worked, but he let his instincts guide him as he used that conduit to offer her what little comfort he could.

“I'm going to be fine,” he said. “I've been through worse injuries than this and survived.” It was a lie, but one he was willing to give her if it eased her worry.

She got right in his face and bared her teeth. “Don't you dare lie to me at a time like this, Theronai.”

“How did you know?”

She tapped her nose. “I can smell it. I can also smell your pain.”

“Sorry.” He pulled in too deep a breath and his abdomen erupted in pain. “I'll try to keep my smells to myself.”

Her helpless frustration churned through their link. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You've already done all you can.”

“And that pisses me off.” She paced a few yards away, then stalked back. With every step she became more and more furious. After a couple of minutes, she came to a stop in front of him and stared down at his wound.

Blood wet the front of his shirt. The waistband of his jeans was becoming saturated. His body's temperature had dropped, giving the cold wind plenty of room to suck the heat right out of the blood he'd shed. Each breath was becoming harder to draw than the last. He did his best to stay perfectly still, but his strength was fading, making him sway where he straddled the dead demon's body.

She took off her shirt, leaving her wearing only a stretchy camisole.

“What are you doing?”

“Tying this around your wound so the blade won't shift.”

She did so carefully, moving close enough to him that he could catch the sweet scent of her skin. He honestly didn't know if he was going to make it out of this alive, but in that moment, with her so close, working to save him, he was grateful that he'd had even this much time bonded to a woman in the way he'd been born to be.

“I'm going to pull this tight,” she warned him. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

She tugged the sleeves of her shirt tight around his abdomen, right under where the blade protruded from his body. The slight shift of his skin was enough to make his vision waver in pain, but he held back his cry. Only a small hiss of air escaped his lips.

When she backed away, she was as pale and shaky as he felt. A line of sweat dotted her forehead, sparkling under the last rays of daylight. “I hope that slows the bleeding.”

“I'm sure it will.”

She stood and cocked one hip to the side. “Do you always lie this much?”

Her nipples stood out with the growing chill of night. If Joseph hadn't been skewered, he would have used his own body to warm her. Maybe even his mouth. “If you connected to me the way you're meant to do, you'd know everything. There would be nothing I could hide.”

“Nice try.” She backed away, rubbing her arms. “How freaking long does it take for one damn Sanguinar to get here? It's not like we're on the moon.”

“The settlement is isolated. It took me almost an hour to hike here. Give Ronan time. He's coming as fast as he can.”

She paced the area again, frustration rolling off her in waves. With every few breaths, his pain spiked, and each time it did, she flinched as if she felt it, too.

“That's it,” she said, throwing her hands up. “I've got to do something. I can't just stand here while you die. If I allow the leader of the Theronai to die, I might as well just go and declare war against your people.”

“You need to calm yourself.” His words came out slower than they should have. Weaker. He was trying to appear strong for her, but it was a losing battle. “Ronan will come.”

“Not fast enough.” She knelt beside him. Her hands were shaking and cold as she wrapped her fingers around his. “Tell me how to heal you.”

“You can't.”

“You don't know that. For all you know, I'm a kick-ass healer.”

His strength was fading fast. He kept fighting the urge to slump forward and rest—close his eyes for just a few minutes. “Maybe you are, but not without a source of power.”

She let out a blistering string of curses, but her hold on him stayed gentle. “I will not let you die. Do you hear me?”

He heard her, but there wasn't anything he could do to help her. He was doing all he could just staying upright.

The woods were dark now. The sun was nearly below the horizon. Soon every Synestryn nearby would smell his blood and come running for him. Lyka had to be away from here before that happened.

“You should go. It's almost dark. My blood . . .”

“I'm not going anywhere, Theronai. Not while you're here, wounded and defenseless.”

“There will be too many demons for you to fight.”

She set her jaw. “I'm not leaving you. Stop wasting your breath.”

He swayed slightly. The pain of shifting even that much sent a jolt of adrenaline through him.

“You're not going to be able to stay like this much longer. Maybe you should lie down.”

She was right. His strength was disappearing alarmingly fast. If he fell over, he might do enough damage to sever an artery. Not only would that kill him before Ronan could arrive, but it would also call every demon within miles to come feast on his blood.

And Lyka's.

“Help me lie down?”

Her hands were on him in a second, easing his shoulders sideways to the ground. The move made his spine light up with pain and sucked all the air from his body, but he was finally off the dead demon, resting firmly on the cold ground.

He lay there for a while, panting for breath. Lyka kept stroking his face, biting her lip in fear. As soon as his breathing eased, she asked, “Better?”

“Not the word I'd pick, but at least now I don't have to worry about falling over.”

He closed his eyes. It felt so damn good he didn't even try to open them again.

Joseph clutched his sword in one hand and prayed that by the time the demons came for his blood, he'd have regained enough strength to fend them off and keep Lyka safe.

L
yka sensed the instant Joseph passed out.

He'd lost so much blood. She didn't know how he could still be alive.

Panic churned in her gut, threatening to spew out of her at any second. Her tiger paced nervously in the back of her mind, anxious to come out and force her to flee.

She fought the animal side of herself, knowing that leaving Joseph here in a pool of his own blood after nightfall was the same thing as executing him.

“Hurry the fuck up, Ronan,” she growled into the chilly air.

She checked the phone. Less than an hour had passed since she'd called Nicholas for help. Even if Ronan had been on the road near the settlement, he would still be in the woods, hiking their way.

Not fast enough.

Lyka knew that some Theronai women could heal severe wounds. Maybe even as severe as this one. She didn't know if that was the kind of thing she'd be good at or not, but she did know that if she didn't try, Joseph was a dead man.

He was unconscious now. Even if he caught a glimpse inside her thoughts, he wouldn't remember it when he woke up. Would he?

It was a chance she was going to have to take. There was too much at stake for her not to act.

She picked up his limp hand and held it so that his ring touched her necklace. The two parts of the luceria locked together with an audible snap. She had no clue what she was doing, but she had to start somewhere.

Lyka closed her eyes and concentrated on the physical connection between them. His fingers were cool to the touch. The ring on his finger hummed, vibrating the band around her throat. There was power in that vibration. All she had to do was access it.

She let herself float, hoping she had some kind of innate knowledge buried within her and that those instincts would guide her now.

Everywhere his skin touched hers, she grew warm and tingly. Tiny streams of current flowed into her, gathering somewhere deep inside her chest. As they accumulated, they began multiplying, swirling around much like the colors in the luceria did. Soon there were so many of them, they grew almost painful, straining against her skin to be set free.

A new kind of panic surfaced, riling her tiger. What she was doing now was dangerous, and the animal in her wanted to take over and ensure her safety.

Run. Flee. Hide.

Fight.

That was what she needed to do now: fight.

She grabbed onto that need and channeled it, letting it strengthen her resolve.

Joseph couldn't hear her. He couldn't see her. He didn't even know she was here. There was no harm at all
in letting herself sink into him just enough to do what had to be done.

She slid inward, folding in on herself until the outside world no longer mattered. There was no wind, no night, no smells or sounds. Only Joseph and the pulse of power flowing from him into her.

Lyka found the source of that power hovering within the luceria. Like a stream of light, it bubbled and churned between them. Some of it splashed into her, but only a few drops of what was available.

There was so much more she could have. So much more she needed.

The current pushed against her, trying to keep her out, but she fought it, snarling as she shoved her way through the pressure and into the source of that precious power. It took nearly all of her strength, but she made her way through until only brilliant stillness surrounded her.

She floated in that pool of light and energy, letting it soak into her cells. In some strange way she recognized every drop, as if it had been marked as hers long before her birth.

She craved it. Needed it. She belonged to it, and it to her.

A giddy sense of completion lifted her and cast her past the ocean of power into a different place. A darker place, but one just as familiar.

She looked around, wondering how she could know a place where she'd never been. Joseph stood nearby, watching her.

He was still, frowning. There was an air of expectation around him, along with a healthy dose of surprise.

“I thought you didn't want to come here,” he said.

She still felt light and buoyant from basking in that
pool of power. She knew there was a reason she was supposed to be afraid, but she couldn't remember what it was. “Come where?”

One second he was on the other side of the foggy space. The next, he was in front of her, staring down at her with intense satisfaction in his hazel eyes. His fingers curled around her upper arms. Heat shimmered between them, sliding down her body until she was quivering in enjoyment.

“My home,” he said.

She didn't see a home. In the distance, past the fog, she saw a fleeting glimpse of high walls like those around Dabyr, but that was all. Inside the walls, tall trees rose, blocking out the sky. They looked much like the one inked on Joseph's chest, but these were filled with so many leaves that not even the sun could filter through.

As she made the comparison, his shirt disappeared, allowing her to see his lifemark.

His jeans hung low on his hips, displaying lean muscles that ridged his abdomen and made a V down toward his groin. The tree marked on his skin had only a trio of leaves, but they swayed in time with the leaves of the trees around them.

The need to touch drew her in, taking over all rational thought. She ran her finger along his lifemark, letting the heat of his skin sink into hers. As her touch strayed down to his stomach, she felt something cold and wet.

She looked down, but saw nothing out of the ordinary except a thin scar bisecting his abdomen.

The sight tickled something deep in her mind, giving her a feeling of helplessness and fear.

“I don't like it,” she told him.

He grabbed her hands in his and pressed them against
his hard chest. “It's nothing, kitten. Nothing to worry about at all. You're here now, and that's all that matters.”

It wasn't, but she couldn't seem to get her mind around what was bothering her.

Joseph tilted her chin up. There was a smile in his eyes, a kind of softness she'd never seen before. “I'm so glad you're here. Where you belong.”

“I can't stay,” she said, knowing instantly that her words were true, though she had no idea what had spurred them.

“There's nothing to fear here. I'll keep you safe.”

The walls were high. Thick. The air smelled clean and fresh, like right after a spring storm. There were no demons here. No responsibilities.

His thumb stroked her cheek. “I've watched you for so long. Wanted you. Every word we shared made me crave more. I would lie in my bed and wonder how your skin would feel under my fingertips.” He trailed his fingers over her shoulder and down her arm. “How your skin would smell if I nuzzled you here.” He lowered his nose to the crook of her neck and breathed her in.

A shiver tingled along Lyka's spine. Her body began to heat, and a sweet tingle of need stirred in her belly.

“There are so many other things I want to do to you,” he said. “So many dreams I've had of you and me together.” As he said the words, her mind was filled with a flurry of images of the two of them entwined in passionate embraces. Some of them were sweet. Others primal and raw. Each one came complete with a set of sensory details that trickled over her like hot water, stealing her breath with their intensity.

She'd spent plenty of time wondering what it would be like to be with a man as powerful as Joseph, but not
one of her daydreams even came close to the potent fantasies he'd endured.

She stared at one—an image of her naked, pinned against the wall of his office by his big body. His hips were moving, thrusting himself inside her with hard, powerful strokes. He pulled her shoulders down, driving himself as deep as he could go before retreating and doing it all over again.

“I thought about that nearly every day,” he admitted. “But even that didn't hold my curiosity as much as this one.” He pointed to another scene.

In this one, they stood outside under the moonlight. Her arms were wrapped around him as if she never wanted to let him go. Her head was tilted up toward his, and they were locked in a kiss so passionate she felt like she was intruding on the most private of moments—far more intimate than sex against his office wall had been.

He stood beside her. The back of his hand slid up and down her bare arm. “I've always wondered what it might be like to kiss you like that. To have you kiss me back like you would die if I let go of you.”

And now she wondered what it would be like, too. In fact, she wondered so much, she knew she would die if she didn't find out. Soon.

She grabbed his shoulders to pull herself up for a kiss, and before her lips could touch his, she felt something cold and wet against her belly.

Lyka looked down and saw that she was covered in blood. It stained her shirt and soaked into her pants.

Fear sank its claws into her. She patted at her body, searching for the source of her bleeding.

“It's not yours, kitten,” he said, only his voice was much weaker this time—not at all like it should have been. “It's mine.”

The line bisecting his abdomen had split open. Blood poured from it, soaking both of them down to their knees.

That's when Lyka remembered. She hadn't come here to see daydreams and naughty fantasies. She'd come here to heal him.

She'd come here for his power. Whatever this place was, it was the source of the energy she needed to keep him alive.

This man who stood before her, this apparition—it wasn't real. None of this was real.

“It's all real,” he said, as if hearing her thoughts. “At least to me it is. Stay with me, kitten. I like having you here. You feel good in my mind. It's where you belong.”

In his mind? That's where she was?

Full-blown panic crashed down on her, detonating with the force of a bomb. She flew away from him and landed with a hard thud on the ground.

When she opened her eyes, she was sitting on the forest floor next to Joseph's body.

He wasn't breathing.