Binding Ties (22 page)

“I do.” Joseph kept idly stroking her. His fingers worked magic along her neck, lingering over the luceria as they passed. Every time he touched it, crackling shards of power sank into her skin, making her tingle. “And I have to admit, it's more than a little creepy knowing that we're no longer safe in the daylight.”

Slowly, as her body relaxed and the adrenaline rush of the hunt faded, she felt the animal in her subside. The change was fast—faster than she would have thought possible. One minute Joseph's hand was sliding over her fur, and the next he was stroking the bare skin of her back.

She was on all fours, naked except for the luceria. Her hair fell around her face, hiding her blush.

“Guess I lost my clothes along the way,” she said, remembering the sound of tearing fabric and the feel of the bramble tugging away the shreds.

She sat up and covered herself with her hands.

Joseph wrapped his fingers around her wrists and pulled her hands wide. His eyes had gone dark with desire, making her wonder if this man would ever be sated.

“Don't,” he said. “You're too beautiful to hide from me. And when it comes to you, there is no such thing as getting my fill.”

Her skin began to heat under his gaze, but she tried to play it cool and not let him know just how much she liked the way he looked at her. “This mental-connection thing doesn't leave much room for privacy.”

“Maybe not, but it does come in handy in a fight. One day, when you've had plenty of time to practice wielding my power, you'll know what I mean.”

“Does that power include being able to magically fabricate clothing?”

He grinned and stripped off his shirt. His bare chest
was such a thing of beauty, she forgot all about being naked. Her hands were on him, stroking his lifemark, before she even had time to question the sanity of such a move.

Small, fuzzy buds lined the once-bare branches.

“Your leaves are coming back,” she said.

“Because of you.” He wrapped the shirt over her shoulders and used the open edges to pull her toward him. The journey ended at his mouth and the hot, sweet kiss that awaited her there.

Since when did she let him kiss her whenever he wanted? Then again, how had she gone so long without this exact thing?

She spent so much time overthinking it that by the time he pulled away, she'd hardly had time to enjoy the ride. She felt cheated and would have gone for seconds, but there were people counting on them.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Because there was no other option. I see you and need to kiss you. I've been holding that back for way too long to keep it in check now. I hope you understand.”

She did. She felt that way now—like she had to hold herself back from taking what she wanted.

What was it about this man that ignited her? She'd always been curious about him, but she'd thought it was because he represented the thing she feared most about herself. Now that her secret was out, she didn't have to fear him—at least not that he'd out her—anymore.

He slid his finger along her brow. “There's way too much going on up there. I think it's time we plan our next move so you can stop worrying. I say we follow these tracks and see where they lead.”

“Just like that? No discussing what just happened to me?”

“You shifted into a tiger. I didn't expect it, but I've adjusted.”

“How is that even possible?
I
haven't had time to adjust, and I'm a Slayer. Nearly everyone I grew up with would die to be able to do what I just did.” For generations, Slayers had bred with humans, diluting their bloodlines until their powers faded and only a very few could even display animal traits. About a hundred years ago, the Slayer council decided to create breeding laws that were designed to strengthen the best genetic traits. Lyka's mother was one of the strongest Slayers born in generations. So was the man she'd married. Both of Lyka's brothers had shifted into their animal forms, though neither could control it.

She knew now exactly what that was like.

“I think we've found another of your gifts, kitten.”

“What's that?”

“You used my power to amplify your Slayer abilities, not diminish them. That's got to make you feel better about that pesky Theronai blood in your veins.”

She hadn't thought about it that way, and, truth be told, she was getting used to the idea of being able to sling magic around. If she was even half as good as some of the women in the stories she'd heard, walking around attached to a magical battery wasn't going to be all that bad.

Especially one built like Joseph, with the skills to make her purr.

“As much as I like where your train of thought is headed,” he said, “I think we need to get moving. We'll go back to the truck and grab a change of clothes for you so you don't freeze.”

“I'll be fine as long as I keep moving. Let's just go while the trail is hot.” She buttoned up his shirt, which
protected her all the way down to her knees. He'd found her shoes a few yards back in the woods, but they were shredded almost beyond use.

“You're going to be a bit high maintenance in the clothing department, aren't you?” he asked.

“For all I know, shifting was a onetime anomaly. I may never be able to do it again.”

“Don't you want to?”

“It's not that. I've spent my whole life wondering if my father's genetics had ruined me as a Slayer. Now that I know that isn't the case, it makes me wonder if my mother's genetics ruined me as a Theronai. What if I can never wield your power the way another woman might have been able to do? I've bound us together, so you're stuck with me. That kind of sucks for you.”

He grabbed her arms and pulled her close so she had no choice but to look at him. “Listen carefully. Despite your motives at the time, what you did when you bound us together was save my life. You took away my pain. You got me out of that damn office, so I can remember what it's like to be a warrior again. Whatever else you are, however you may compare to other female Theronai, I will always be grateful to you for what you've done.”

She'd always thought of the Theronai as the enemy. Power-hungry, egotistical jerks who thought they were mankind's salvation. She'd never considered that they would hurt or dream of a different life. And she sure as hell hadn't thought that one of them would lay so much gratitude at her feet, as if her mere existence were the best thing to ever happen to him.

Her throat tightened with emotions she dared not name. Her eyes burned as she fought against tears. She couldn't speak. All she could do was nod and pull away before she humiliated herself.

Joseph let her go. Maybe he could tell she was on the verge of tears and decided to take pity on her. Whatever the case, she was able to pull herself together once she wasn't looking into his eyes.

“The trail leads this way,” she said, stating the obvious.

Light trickled through the trees. Another day was passing, and her loved ones were still in harm's way. Nightfall would be here soon, and with it, another night of terror for the young.

That was what was important. Not her recent ability to shift. Not her feelings for Joseph or vice versa. Everything else going on in her head was just going to have to sit back and wait for its turn.

His warm hand settled on her shoulder. “We'll find them.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Soon, Joseph. We have to find them soon. I don't even want to think what will happen to them if we don't.”

“Then lead on, Lyka. Find me something to kill.”

R
onan was beginning to understand how crazy felt.

His mystery woman had no sooner stopped moving away from him when she started coming back toward him again. He had no idea why she'd run like she had, but he was tied to her closely enough to know that the only reason she was coming back now was because she was in pain.

That was something Ronan could not tolerate.

He'd headed toward her as fast as he dared, stopping only when he ran out of fuel or when the sun was high and robbed him of all ability to drive safely. The last thing he needed was to crash his van, break the magically enhanced glass that blocked the sun and accidentally summon a Warden to kill him while he lay pinned or unconscious—an easy target.

The drive exhausted him, but not nearly as much as it did her. She rarely stopped and never for more than twenty or thirty minutes. She didn't sleep, didn't slow, didn't veer off course.

He wasn't sure exactly where she was coming from, but she moved like death itself was nipping at her heels.

Then she stopped. A huge flood of fear spilled out of her, followed closely by disgust and, finally, resignation. Acceptance.

She was tired. Hungry. Hurting.

Ronan followed his instincts, taking as many back roads as he could to reach her. She had left the interstate miles ago, moving north on country roads, right before that spike of fear had slammed into her. He had followed, heading west toward her.

The magically treated glass in his van kept him safe, but it did nothing to ward off the weariness from being awake during the daylight. If not for the potential prize at the end of this ride, he would have found a nice, dark cave and slept in it until sunset.

She was close now, barely a mile away. He didn't let up on the accelerator until he saw her car. A rental with Arizona plates, right inside a metal outbuilding.

That's where she'd gone—a place with so much sun, he'd never survive.

Ronan doubted her destination had been an accident.

There was a giant metal barn with a door large enough for a tractor to pull through. It was open. She was inside. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her.

She was afraid of him. Her heart was pounding, and fear was leaking into her veins. She was hiding something, but he had no idea what.

He pulled his van through the opening, adjusting his vision to search for any potential traps she might have laid for him.

The pair of windows on the western side of the building was boarded up. As soon as he cleared the threshold, the retractable door slid down behind him. The building went dark, but he could still see well, despite his powers being muted by the sun's rays.

She was there, standing next to her car. She opened one of the back doors to activate the dome light, which cast a pale glow over a body even more beautiful than Ronan had remembered.

The first time he'd seen her, he hadn't exactly been at his best. He'd been nearly dead, starving for blood, animalistic in his hunger. He'd attacked her, fed from her, held her against her will.

It was no wonder she was afraid of him now.

He took in the curly black hair that fell just past her shoulders, gleaming in the dim light. Her skin was a deep tan that made her silvery green eyes stand out like faceted gemstones. Signs of weariness stained her face but made her no less lovely. All those marks did was increase Ronan's need to see to her care and safety. If she was his, she'd never suffer again. He would make sure she was rested and fed, comfortable and warm—whatever she needed, he would provide it.

But she wasn't his. Didn't even want to be near him. At least she hadn't until now.

Ronan pulled to a stop and turned off his engine. He turned on the headlights to help ease her fears, and then stepped out of the van inside the protective confines of the metal building.

He would be more careful this time. Be gentle with her. Respect her wishes.

Everything in him that was ravenous and demonic laughed at the idea that he would be anything more than his true self.

As he stepped around to the back of the van, she held up her hands. “That's far enough.”

Ronan forced his feet to stop. It was an act of willpower, but one he made for her comfort.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Justice.”

Ah, so she was here to inflict some kind of punishment on him. At least she was honest about her intent. Even though he hated it that she wanted to hurt him, he had to give her credit for owning up to it.

“What is your name?” he asked, clarifying his question. “Mine is Ronan. I should at least know the name of the woman who's come to mete out justice.”

“No, Justice
is
my name.”

“I didn't see it on the manifest for your flight.”

She frowned. “I have no idea how you got your hands on that, but, for your information, I flew under an alias.”

“So, your friends call you Justice?”

“I have no friends.”

He couldn't help but feel the sting of pain saying that caused her. Protective instincts rose to the fore, and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and soothe her hurts. “I will be your friend, Justice.”

She laughed, and the sound was so musical, he wanted to dance. “Nice try, bloodsucker. But I think I have enough friends.”

“You just said you had none.”

“Exactly.”

“Why are you still here?” he asked. “Why didn't you run from me the way you have every other time I've come close to finding you?”

Her mouth tightened in anger. “They wouldn't let me.”

“They who?”

“No one you know. Now, let's just get this over with so we can both go on with our lives.” She stepped out from behind her car. Bruises darkened her arms, along with what looked like scabbed-over cuts.

Ronan was at her side before he realized he was
moving. Magic fueled his speed and scared the living hell out of his woman. She wheeled back from him so fast, she left a dent in the metal siding of the outbuilding.

“Do not touch me,” she said. “The last time you did, you nearly killed me.”

How could he explain to her the hunger he'd felt at the time? He hadn't meant to take so much of her blood or to be so rough with her. If he'd been in his right mind, he would have been gentle with her, cherishing the gift of blood she'd given him.

But he hadn't been gentle, and she had no way of knowing that he didn't make a habit of ravaging women who showed up out of the blue to save his life. All he could do now was respect her wishes and hope that in time she'd find some sliver of trust for him.

Because he really did need to get his hands on her again, feel her warm skin against his lips and taste her sweet blood as it flowed over his tongue, replenishing his cells with the magic they craved.

Ronan held up his hands and backed away a step. “I'm sorry about that, Justice. I deeply regret how I treated you that day. If you'd stayed, I would have explained that I'm not usually so rough with—”

“Your prey?” she supplied.

“I don't see you like that.”

“No? So if I tilted my head and pulled my hair out of your way, you wouldn't come after me again? Tear into my skin with your teeth and drink my blood?” She angled her head so that her hair fell away from the smooth lines of her throat.

He could see her pulse pounding beneath her skin, feel the power of the magic that beat there, rich and intoxicating.

She was meant to sustain him the way Hope sustained
Logan. He was certain of it. Why else would she compel him so completely?

Ronan had expended a lot of energy chasing after her, and more healing Joseph. He was still functional, still strong enough to keep going despite the hunger rolling around in his empty belly—a hunger human food couldn't touch. Nothing had eased that bone-deep, gnawing starvation the way her blood did, and now she was posed as if offering him another taste.

He saw the glow his eyes cast as his gaze slid over her body, homing in on her throat. His mouth watered for her. His chest worked overtime trying to draw her scent into his lungs and hold it there. Normally, his sense of smell was much stronger, but the sun had weakened all his abilities. Until it set, he would never be able to get enough of her scent.

He needed this woman in a way he couldn't understand or describe. The urge to feed from her nearly overwhelmed him, but he reminded himself that this was about the war, not the battle. If he was to win the woman, he had to let her think he was nice and safe, not the ravenous predator that lurked within him.

“I would be so very gentle with you,” he told her. “I could make you feel so good, make your whole body shimmer with pleasure.”

She swallowed hard, the movement a helpful distraction from the hot pulse pounding along her neck. He was able to break the spell her blood held over him and look into her beautiful eyes. Midnight pupils ate up the silvery green ring. “Yeah. Not going to happen. Ever. Keep your damn fangs to yourself.”

He was losing ground with her. He could feel her slipping away, feel her nervousness rising with every passing
second. If he didn't do something fast, she was going to bolt.

Ronan forced himself to back up and put a vehicle between them. That seemed to ease her nerves and got her to move away from the dented wall.

“I understand,” he said. “If you didn't wait for me here to feed me again, then why?”

“I have something for you. Something important. I don't know why, so don't ask. All I know is they made me bring it here and wait for you.”

Curiosity sparked beneath his skin. He would cherish any gift this woman offered him, but he thought it might not serve his cause to say so. “What is it?”

She dug in her pocket and pulled out a key fob. One push of the button unlatched the trunk of her rental car. The trunk lid popped open, and Ronan knew instantly what lay inside. He could smell the demon lurking there, one she'd hidden from him until just now. If he hadn't been so consumed by her scent, if the sun hadn't diminished his powers, he might have detected the stench of demon earlier. But he hadn't, and now he was trapped in an enclosed space with a woman who wanted him dead and a demon that wanted his blood.

Apparently, his first instinct had been right. This had been a trap all along.