Binding Ties (12 page)

L
yka surveyed the damage that had once been her home.

What used to be a peaceful woodland settlement nestled in the Ozark Mountains was now just . . . carnage. The rustic log cabins her people lived in were charred and broken. Several of them looked like they'd taken blows over and over from a battering ram. All that was left were splinters and the belongings of her pack mates strewn about like so much leaf litter.

The ground was rough with furrows dug in by the feet of hundreds of Synestryn. Those that had died had been burned off by the sun, but their primitive swords remained as a testament to how many enemies her people had faced.

It was a wonder that any of them survived.

All around her, fallen leaves and evergreens colored the area, but in the center of the clearing there was only black.

The blood of their enemy had tainted the ground, staining it and poisoning it for years to come. Nothing would grow here. Nothing would flourish here. The
peaceful setting so in tune with nature would never again be the same.

Off to one side were several fresh graves dug in haste by Andreas and his men upon their return. The dirt was mounded up over those who'd been lost. There had been no time for tombstones, so all that marked their graves now were thick wooden stakes carved with the names of the dead.

A flood of anguish and grief washed over her so suddenly she didn't see it coming. The shock of the devastation was beginning to wear off, leaving behind something much more jagged and agonizing.

Her chest tightened until she couldn't breathe. She pulled in pitiful gasps of air, only to let them out in high whimpers of pain. The wind swept the noise of her grief away as if it had never been, but the marks it left on her were permanent scars of loss that would never fade.

She crouched where she stood, hearing the charred earth beneath her feet crunch with the shift of her weight. She hugged herself, praying the storm of emotion would pass and she'd once again be able to function.

She'd come here to find her brother and the children. Despite her Theronai side, she was one of the best scent trackers her people had. If anyone could find a trail leading from this place, it was her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and clogged her nose, rendering it useless. She had to find some way to get a grip, but wave after wave of pain kept barreling into her.

So many lives torn apart. So many dead. How could she just push that aside like it had never even happened? These people were her friends, her family. She hadn't even gotten to say good-bye to them, and now they were gone.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that, crouched in the forest, surrounded by devastation and death. Her feet had long since gone to sleep. The skin under the luceria around her neck was wet with tears, as was the collar of her shirt. The angle of the sun had changed, and shadows had begun to elongate as the day neared its end.

Still, she couldn't move. She should have been here. She should have fought beside her people and helped fend off the attack. Instead she was trapped inside the nice, safe walls of Dabyr while her loved ones died.

A soft whisper of comfort brushed through her mind. A second later, Joseph appeared through the trees, heading right for her.

She'd left Dabyr alone, but she'd known he would follow her. Eventually. She just hadn't thought he'd find a way to leave his post so soon.

She wanted to be angry at him for intruding, but the sight of his tall, strong body getting closer gave her a much-needed distraction from her grief. He really was beautifully built, with just the right amount of muscle to give him an air of competence without being bulky or overblown. His wide shoulders and long limbs were just the kind of advantage a man like him would need when fighting demons. And despite all the office work he did, his hands still bore the mark of a swordsman. Calluses from hours wielding a weapon, broad palms and strong, thick fingers and forearms.

Now that she knew what his hands felt like on her—all hot and tingly—she wondered how she'd ever gone so long evading his touch.

She sniffed and tried to stand. Her legs had gone numb, making the move impossible.

Joseph was at her side in an instant, lifting her to her
feet by her arms. His hands lingered on her shoulders while his gaze settled on her neck.

She had the strangest urge to snuggle up against him and let him shield her from the carnage for just a little while.

As if he knew what she needed, he pulled her against his body in a tight hug.

She closed her eyes, reveling in the heat of his skin. He shielded her from the breeze and the stink of burned homes it carried with it. His big hands stroked her back, moving slowly enough to help unknot the tension that had been riding her so hard.

He didn't say a word or offer any empty platitudes of comfort. All he did was hold her, giving her the support she needed to find the strength to stand on her own two feet.

Lyka breathed him in, burying her nose against his chest. The smell of his skin worked its magic on her, the same way those tendrils of sparkling heat connecting the two of them did. The pale skin around his neck where the luceria used to lie was a stark reminder of their recent change in status. She was no longer hidden, holding her Theronai side hostage. It was out and free, and soon everyone would know what a freak she really was.

Maybe if she saved Eric and the young, her people would find a way to accept her.

Hunting for those kids was what she really needed to be doing, not hugging a man who seemed content to hold her until nightfall, if that's what she wanted.

She pushed away from him, forcing herself to stand on her own, face her grief.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I will be.” Once she found the creatures responsible
for this destruction and ripped them apart with her bare hands.

He surveyed the area, his expression grim. “Andreas wasn't exaggerating. This is . . . unbelievable. How many demons were there?”

“Too many,” she said, her voice rough with emotion. Tears had left cooling trails on her cheeks, which she ignored. He'd already seen her crying, but if this much death and devastation wasn't reason enough to show her grief, she had no idea what would be.

“Why did you come?” she asked. “Why did you follow me?”

“Do you want to hear what you want to hear, or would you rather have the truth?”

“I never took you for a liar.”

“Sometimes the truth is too much to bear. I don't want to upset you more than you already are.”

“That would be impossible.”

He sighed and his shoulders bowed slightly. “I didn't want you out here alone. You and I are bonded now. As much as you may hate it, I plan to do whatever it takes to keep you safe for the rest of my life. Even if it means locking you away at Dabyr.”

“Well, at least you're aware I wasn't going to enjoy hearing the truth. Points for that, I guess.”

He wiped her cheek dry with his thumb, staring over her shoulder at the rough wooden grave markers. “I won't let you end up like them.”

“I'm too tired to fight you, Joseph. Please don't make me.”

“I don't suppose there's any sense in knocking you unconscious and dragging you back home, is there?”

She looked around at the charred logs and poisoned earth. “This
is
my home. And there's no way in hell I'm
letting what was done here go unpunished. I'm finding those kids. I'm finding Eric. I'm killing those responsible. You can help or you can get the fuck out of my way.”

“I figured that's what you'd say.”

“And?”

“I brought enough supplies and gear to launch a small war against the Synestryn.”

Relief fluttered through her, but died a swift death when he opened his mouth again.

“But it won't be enough,” he said. “If you really want to be able to take these demons down, you need to use every advantage you have.”

“You think I won't?”

He stared at her pointedly. “I
know
so.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You have access to more power than most people ever dream about. It's right here.” He tapped his chest. “But you don't like the way you reach it, so you're just walking away. Pretending it isn't real or that you don't need it.”

“I've heard all the stories. Heard the bonded women talk. They all love their men. Trust them. You know as well as I do that I could never trust you like that.”

He flinched as if she'd kicked him in the crotch. “Why not? I've never harmed you or your people. Even when we were at war, I ordered my men to defend themselves from attack but never initiate one. Never provoke the Slayers.”

“Because you were afraid we'd kill you.”

“No, because we're spread thin, and the only way we're ever going to beat the Synestryn is if we focus all our efforts and resources on them, rather than each other.”

“Andreas feels the same way. Under his rule our people never attacked yours. It is forbidden.”

“Good. Then we can move on from this animosity you've got going here, and do what we both want: find Eric and the kids.”

He made it sound so simple.

Maybe it was. Maybe she was complicating it by bringing in generations of baggage.

Still, he didn't understand what he was asking. “I know things, Joseph. Secrets. Strategies and tactics. If you go poking around in my head, you're going to see them. What if the treaty doesn't work out? What if the next leader after Andreas sends us to war against you again?”

He went quiet for a moment, simply staring at her. “Which side would you take, kitten?”

“I'm a Slayer,” she said, hoping he wouldn't make her be any clearer. She really didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she couldn't lie to him about it, either—not something this important. Her loyalty was to her own kind, and the little bit of Theronai blood running through her veins wasn't going to change that.

He pressed his lips together so hard, they turned pale. “We'll talk about that again later. Right now you and I have bigger problems. So do those kids. Those are the people we need to be worried about. They are the reason you need to open up a little—just enough to do what needs to be done to save them.”

“You really think that tapping into your power is going to make that much of a difference?” she asked.

“It's the kind of thing that could mean the difference between life and death.”

She sighed. He was probably right. “Can't I find another way to access it? Some kind of shortcut?”

“You bonded yourself to me permanently. There's no getting around that. Eventually, you'll realize that you can trust me.”

But not in time for her to find her people.
That
was the part he didn't say. “Some of the other Theronai women have learned to channel magic in just a few days. I've heard the stories.”

“Yes, but they let their mates in.” He tapped her temple. “You won't.”

“There's got to be another way.”

He shifted his stance and stared past her as if he had something to hide. “There's a lot riding on our relationship, Lyka. You can't say that you haven't thought about what a union between us might mean for long-term peace between the Slayers and Theronai.”

“Peace never lasts. Something always screws it up. That's why I can't let you in my head the way you want.”

“Even if it means you're powerless to help find your missing brother?”

She fought against a spike of irritation. “I'm not powerless. I've never in my life been powerless. And I'm sure as hell not going to start now, when my people are missing and in danger.”

“You know I won't let you risk your life, right? My vow makes it impossible for me to allow you to do anything that would hurt you.”

“Theronai women go into battle all the time.”

“Yes, but they also have access to incredible power and the ability to use their magic to fend off attack. You don't.”

She hated it that he was right. While the idea of letting Joseph rummage around in her head was abhorrent, the thought that she could do what some of those Theronai women could was damn appealing. Slinging magic around like it was nothing . . . She could really get off on something like that.

“We should go,” she said. “It'll be getting dark soon,
we have almost an hour's hike back to the road and I still need to survey the area for a clear scent trail.”

“Does your sudden change of subject mean you're going to let me in, or is it your way of getting me to shut up?”

“Definitely the shutting-up one.”

“You've been through hell seeing what you just saw, so I'll give in, but know that this isn't the end of the conversation. One of these days you're going to see that I hold no ill will toward you or the Slayers, and you're going to wish you'd trusted me sooner.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But that day is definitely not today.”

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. It was the only warning she had before dark figures crashed through the brush toward them. She caught their stagnant scent on the wind as they closed in.

“Demons!” she shouted as she pulled a pair of daggers from her belt. The tips gleamed with thick black poison—one of the few known to work on the Synestryn.

Her mind rejected what her senses were telling her. These creatures couldn't be demons. The sun wasn't all the way down yet, and while the woods were growing dark, Synestryn never strayed out of their caves before sunset. To do so was to risk certain death.

Joseph drew his sword. The metallic hiss of steel on steel was reassuring.

The first shadowy shape reached them. Lyka's Slayer vision amplified the light around them, showing her a clear image of what they faced.

It almost looked human. A long, tattered coat covered its body, revealing only its face and hands. There were splotchy patches of fur on both. It wielded a sword like the ones littering the ground behind them, only this one was far more nicked and dented from use.