Binding Ties (19 page)

“I
won't let you die,” said Joseph, but it was too late. Lyka couldn't hear him anymore.

The back end of the truck sloshed around as he pulled up to the front step of the Gerai house and slammed on the brakes. He jumped out of the truck and raced around it to get Lyka to the relative safety that awaited them inside.

His shirt that was draped around her was smeared with blood and oily black poison, but she didn't seem to be bleeding anymore. For an instant, he worried that it was because her heart had stopped beating, but her panting reminded him that she was still alive.

Barely.

He was so used to feeling the potent strength of her spirit on the other side of the link, he hadn't realized just how powerful it was until it was nearly gone.

Joseph carried her to the front door and smashed the lock open with his boot. He laid her inside on the couch and pulled out his phone.

Ronan still wasn't answering, so he dialed Tynan. “Where are you?”

“I called for Logan.”

“You mean you haven't even left yet?”

“I can't leave, not with so many people here to protect. Even if I did, I'm not sure how much good I could do. I'm weak, Joseph.”

“I'd give you all the blood you need.” Every drop, if that's what it took to save Lyka.

“And what of the pregnant women here? The children? Who would be here for them? Logan will come when he can, but there was a battle up north and several Gerai were wounded. He and Hope went to offer aid.”

“Tell them to hurry.” Joseph was freaked-out by the tremors that racked her body. She was pale, cold. He covered her with a blanket, but it did no good. “What do I do to help her?”

“Keep her still, calm.”

“She's unconscious but still shivering.”

“Did you start a fire?”

“No time. I need to burn the clothes she bled on, but I thought it could wait.”

“The heat might help make her more comfortable.”

Joseph set a match to the kindling that was all laid out and ready to go, thanks to the helpful Gerai who stocked this place. Lighting a fire wasn't nearly enough to ease his worry, but at least it was something—some action he could take.

“Her Theronai blood is going to kill her, isn't it?” he asked Tynan.

“You don't know that. She needs you to stay positive. You're connected to her now, remember? She may be able to sense your feelings. You must stay strong for her sake.”

Tynan was right. It was Joseph's duty to see to her every need, so if she needed him to stay positive, then
that's what he'd do. “I need to go. Call me if anything changes.”

“You as well, Joseph.”

He hung up. The fire had grown enough for him to lay a log on it. It was time to add the clothes to burn away the blood.

He made careful work of stripping away Lyka's dirty shirt and jeans. Her skin was whole, thanks to her Slayer blood quickly regenerating her skin. By the time he was done taking away all the clothes holding traces of blood or poison, she was naked except for her socks.

Joseph secured the busted front door with a chair and then lifted her into his arms. She let out a soft moan of pain and shivered.

He slid her under the blankets on a bed, then unbuckled his sword belt. The weapon shimmered a moment before becoming visible. He set it within easy reach, praying he wasn't going to need it again tonight.

He hadn't found a new shirt yet, but that didn't slow him down. She needed warmth, and his bare skin on hers would give it to her.

She shivered as he wrapped his arms around her. The fact that she was naked was not lost on him. He tried not to think about it, but the smooth skin under his hands made it impossible. The best he could do was keep his roving grasp from going too far onto intimate territory.

As he gave her his body heat, her shivering slowed and finally stopped. She relaxed in his grasp and practically melted into him. He found the conduit between them and pried his way through in order to reassure her that she was going to be fine. He was going to see her through this. She wasn't alone.

The second he entered her thoughts, he was
surrounded by beauty and chaos. She was deeply confused, her dreams a jumbled mass of frenetic images. She battled sgath from all sides, her body blurring in motion. In the next instant, she was diving into a clear, moonlit lake. Her head broke the surface of the water and she looked at him with silent invitation in her golden eyes.

Joseph was already halfway to the lake to join her when it disappeared and she was standing next to a dead Theronai, tears streaming down her face.

This was the man she'd killed—the man who'd begged her to end his suffering. There was a slight smile of relief on his face. He was free of pain and fear, free from the worry that he would hurt the people he loved when the last leaf on his lifemark fell and his soul died, leaving him dark and twisted.

Inside her dreams, Lyka looked up at Joseph. “I had to help him.”

“I understand.”

“Please don't kill me for helping him.”

“I won't. I could never hurt you.”

“You already have. You've stolen me from my family, my people. You've turned me into the enemy.”

“We're not enemies anymore. And you can visit your family whenever you want.”

The landscape around them went dark, tossing them both to the destroyed Slayer settlement. There were bodies strewn everywhere, as if the graves had never been dug, the dead never buried.

“My family is gone. There's nothing left for me here.”

“They will rebuild. We'll help them.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How?”

Joseph exerted his will over her mind just enough to show her what he envisioned. He brought the sun back, buried the dead, rebuilt the buildings and planted
flowers and trees where only ash had remained. It was a beautiful place again, filled with hope and life.

“We can do this?” she asked him, disbelief clear in her tone.

“Yes. Together we can wield powerful magic.”

“I don't know how.”

“You'll learn. All you have to worry about is getting strong again.”

She frowned as if trying to remember. “I was dying.”

“No. You're going to be fine. You're just resting now.”

“I can feel you holding me, but you're all the way over there. How is that possible?”

“My body is holding yours.” He waved to their surroundings. “This is your mind.”

“You don't belong here.”

“Yes, I do. In time you'll see that.”

Somehow she was next to him in an instant, without having moved. Her hands settled on his bare chest as she looked into his eyes. “You're trying to take away all the things that make me a Slayer.”

“You're wrong. I've never been more relieved that you're part Slayer than I am right now. It's the only reason you're still alive.”

“If I was truly a Slayer, the poison wouldn't have worked. It's going to kill me, isn't it?”

“No,” he nearly shouted. He had to swallow twice to rein in his anger at the mere idea of her death. “I won't let that happen. You're strong, Lyka.”

“I'm tired.”

“Then draw your strength from me. I have more than enough to spare.”

“I don't want to need you.”

“Do you think it makes you weaker?”

“I know it does.”

“Am I weaker for needing you to save my soul?”

“That's different. That's the way you were designed to be.”

“And you were designed to draw power from me, even if you don't like it.”

She was silent for a minute before she spoke. “I don't want to die. I need to find my brother and those children.”

“Then use me. Use my power. Open yourself up and take what you need. As soon as you're strong again, we'll go find them.”

He could feel her need to go hunting rise within her. It was so powerful, it was nearly a compulsion. The animal inside her reared its head, demanding she obey. It wanted to be set free to hunt. It wanted to survive, no matter what it took.

She took his hand and brought it to her throat. The luceria glowed in swirling gold and green that brought out her eyes and warmed her skin. Once the colors were fixed and were no longer in motion, their bond would be complete. Until that time, if she died, he would survive until his lifemark was barren and he met his death at the hands of a Slayer, or until he found another mate. But he didn't want that. Even if it was likely he'd find another woman compatible with his power—which it wasn't—he wanted Lyka. She was beautiful both inside and out. She was strong and brave and fearless. She was smart and loyal in a way rarely seen in this day and age. And once he got past her prickly exterior and into the heart of her soul, she was kind. Generous. Loving.

Joseph wanted her to pour all of that on him—to let him bask in everything that made her who she was all the way down to her core. He'd never seen a more stunning, glorious creature, and he wasn't ready to let her go.

He circled her slender neck with his fingers, connecting both parts of the luceria. “Take what you need, Lyka. Whatever you want.”

A slow, steady trickle of power began to flow out of him. Her head fell back, and a soft moan of pleasure rushed from her. When she lifted her head again, her eyes were glowing with heat.

“Go home, Theronai,” she said. “When I'm done here, I'm coming for you.”

He didn't know what she meant, but she was now strong enough to cast him out of her thoughts and shove him back into his own skin. He lay on the bed next to her naked body, his hand on her neck as it had been in her dream. The deadly chill of poison had left her skin, and she was now covered in a warm pink flush.

Energy began flowing from him at a faster and faster rate. The pressure inside his body began to ease, giving him room for a deep breath. He hadn't felt this good in years—not since the power he housed had grown out of control.

She was bleeding that off now, freeing him from centuries of discomfort.

A fizzing, tingling feeling spread across his chest. Her bare nipples hardened in response, as if she felt it, too. Her hands snaked around him, holding him tight against her lithe frame. Her toes curled against his calves, and her fingers dug into his back.

Joseph wanted to stroke her from head to toe and back again, but he dared not let go of their connection. She wasn't experienced enough to pull power from him without the physical contact of ring on necklace. Soon she'd be able to reach the magic inside him from miles away, but not yet.

The idea that she needed him this close gave him a
rush. To be needed by a strong woman was a potent thing, one he wasn't sure he'd ever get used to. But he wanted to.

He wasn't sure exactly how, but he felt her shed the effects of the poison, felt her strength return. She opened her eyes and stared into his.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman ever created. And she was all his.

“Better?” he asked.

“Not as good as I will be once I get your cock inside of me.”

Raw, physical need flared in his gut, setting him on fire. He wanted to stop her and ask why she was so turned on—to make sure she wouldn't regret her actions later—but he wasn't that strong a man. Every action he'd taken in his life had led him to this moment—claiming his mate. He knew the luceria wouldn't have chosen her for him without a reason. He had to trust that that reason would make itself known at some point along the way. Until then, he was going to give her what she wanted and make her the happiest woman on earth.

He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her the way a woman this rare and precious was meant to be kissed. He took his time, savoring each sweet flavor and texture her mouth had to offer. He fed her his breath while he feasted on her, showing her with lips and tongue what he had in store for the rest of her sleek body.

His skin heated until he couldn't stand the blankets cloaking them. He shoved them aside and rolled her beneath him, pinning her to the mattress. She tried to get the upper hand and fight her way to the top, but he wasn't having any of it. He liked her beneath him, all soft and writhing with need.

She was naked. He needed to be, too. Their skin was
meant to be touching, as often and as much as possible. Who was he to deny either of them that pleasure?

He moved off her just enough to rid himself of his jeans. By the time he did, she had slid over him, straddling his thighs.

His erection rose in front of her, thick, dark and throbbing. The tip was shiny with pre-cum, proof of his lack of control when it came to this woman. He'd wanted her for far too long to hold himself back now.

Indecision warred on her face as she stared at his cock.

He hoped she hadn't changed her mind, because if she had, he was still going to take her. Lyka was his. It was time she understood exactly what that meant.

R
onan skidded to a stop outside of an airport.

She was in there. Somewhere.

He parked his van and rushed inside, following the call of her blood in his veins. He'd made it almost all the way across the parking lot when he felt her move again, only this time the sensation was bizarre. He'd never felt anything like it before.

She was moving toward him, but she was also . . . above him.

Ronan's woman had boarded a plane and was flying away from him.

A large jet buzzed by overhead, and he knew that she was on it, completely out of reach.

A sense of failure and loss swept through him, but he reined it in enough to plan his next move. Just because she was flying away didn't mean he couldn't still find her.

He hurried inside and checked the terminals for recent takeoffs. He made note of the destinations of those flights and went to the ticket counter.

Ronan wasted no time trying to convince the young woman across the counter to help him. He simply
exerted his will over her, took control of her mind and compelled her to print him a copy of the manifest of every flight that had left in the past ten minutes.

Something she did must have triggered an alarm, because there were several uniformed men converging on his location.

Rather than spend precious energy trying to stop them from coming after him, he simply ducked behind a thick column that held up the vast ceiling and shielded himself from human sight. By the time he was on the other side of the column, he was completely invisible to every person around.

Hiding himself like this was burning power fast, so he broke into a run and headed for his van. It wasn't until he was miles away from the airport that he allowed himself to stop at a local mall and read over the papers he'd collected.

Two of the three manifests were for small planes. The last was the only one with enough passengers to fill an aircraft the size of the one he'd seen pass overhead. He crossed out all the male names, which left just a little less than half of the passengers. Too many.

There was one man he knew who had a knack with computers. If anyone could find pictures of the women remaining on this list, it was Nicholas. But if Ronan called him, he was going to catch hell for all the missed messages the irate Theronai had left on his phone.

Still, what other choice did he have? He needed to know where she was going before she got so far away he could no longer feel her. If she ended up in Europe, he was going to have to make careful plans to follow her. He absolutely could not be caught on board an airplane when the sun was up. Even if a single Warden was summoned, it would mean the death of every living soul on
that plane. He couldn't risk that many lives—not even for her.

Ronan picked up his phone and dialed Nicholas, bracing himself for the penance he was going to have to pay for being AWOL. Whatever he had to do, he'd do, as long as it got him one step closer to his mystery woman.