Bonding Spirits (Bonding - The Ultimate Guide Book 4), page 3
“Hey, it’ll be fine. I survived a bond break. I’m sure you will too,” I try to reassure him and even throw an awkward hand pat to his forearm. Damn, muscles for days much?
“Wha’?” he gasps, and Svend stares at me in speculation.
“It could work,” he rubs at the stubble across his chin in contemplation. “We may as well take advantage if he’s coming for her anyway.”
The murky darkness floating towards the table in a huff pauses as Ben stops and eyes the berserker leader.
“Who’s coming?” His voice is hushed as he asks, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up in warning. I’ve never heard Ben do the quiet badass villain thing. Ten of ten, it works for him.
Aodhan runs both hands through his hair, pulling at it in frustration. Then he begins speaking in a language I have no hope of understanding. I get that he’s pissed off at Svend and chewing him out. Svend returns the favor, and they both end up an inch from each other’s faces, yelling and getting red in the face.
“Enough!”
The feral yell doesn’t come from Ben, and I lean back to see Kimi still sitting on the stool. His chest rises and falls quickly with his harsh breathing, and his eyes are manic, focused on me. His hands are twitching, and his tail lashes back and forth behind him, cutting into the bar.
It's a good thing Al has walked into the back room, or we’d be kicked out. He looks like he’s about to either kill me or snatch me up and kidnap me.
The argument across from me comes to a halt after his yell, and the silence is deafening.
“Who’s coming for me?” I ask as calmly as I can. Inside, my gut is rolling around with anxiety and nausea.
“That’s why we were testing you, to see if you’re truly a mender,” Svend says with a glance at Aodhan. His cheeks are still ruddy after the yelling match, but his breathing is calm. “If you weren’t, we could have gotten you out of here and kept you safe. Since you are.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I say as he trails off.
“An immortal,” Aodhan blurts out. “One from the lab that knows about you. He was there when you – when I killed them all.”
“Fyodor Makarov,” my voice is toneless as I try to process this. How sad is it that I already have his name memorized?
Swallowing back bile, I look off to the side, trying to regain some calm or even sass to bring up, but I can’t. I’m a raging inferno of fear where no one can see. I haven’t felt this terrified since… just this morning. And it will only get worse as this whole fiasco progresses.
I can’t let my emotions take over, but I can’t go into the passenger seat either. Where does that leave me? With a wildly swinging see-saw of sanity.
A pair of hands frame my face, bringing me out of my stupor. I can hear Ben and the two berserkers arguing in the background, but my focus is firmly on Kimi as he holds me. His hands are surprisingly gentle and warm as his clawed thumb moves across my cheekbone, wiping away a tear I only now realize has fallen.
His expression has returned to being blank, but his breathing is ragged as he stares into my eyes. I can’t tell what he’s thinking behind the blankness, but he doesn’t look away from me. It’s like he’s asking a question, Mitri style.
Why can’t I be more like him? My first instinct, to everything really, is to run and hide. It always has been.
Not Kimi, though. His first instinct is screw it and face it head-on. It took guts to walk up to the Goddess and smile in her face while he killed her. He knew exactly what he was doing when he made that plan and followed through. It's probably because he’s always been a little insane, but still. His results speak for themselves.
I lean towards him and press my forehead to his. “I wish you could give me some bravery right now. All I want to do is run, and I can’t.”
If I do, the cycle is just going to continue. I’ll have to return to hiding, and I can’t take Ben with me. It would be hard to live a normal Human life with a male that inspires fear in everyone just by existing. Plus, I’m sick of hiding in a corner and hoping for someone to save me. It’s never gotten me anywhere.
Maybe I can fake being truly evil long enough for Kimi to decide to kill me. Meh, I’m not that good an actor anymore.
Isn’t this where he gives me some heart-warming or uplifting speech about how awesome I am and convinces me to do the right thing? That’s what happens in books all the time.
“We kill them all.”
My eyes snap open as I lean back in surprise. His response is given in such a calm tone. Like he’s deciding where we’re eating dinner instead of talking about slaughtering who knows how many people to keep me safe. Wow, if I needed a wake-up call that was it. Romance books are fiction.
“We can’t just kill everybody,” I whisper back, but my voice lacks the strength to make it stick in his brain.
“You can’t. I can,” he corrects.
“Hey,” I frown and cup his face in my hands, mimicking his hold on me. Not to be outdone, his tail wraps around my calves, squeezing them together as if he’s keeping me in place. “I know what you’re capable of, but this isn’t you.”
His head tilts slightly, not dislodging my hands, more rubbing his cheeks against them.
“You are the male that killed a stupid, self-absorbed, evil as fuck goddess. With no backup,” I remind him.
“You saved countless people. And you kept saving them when you killed her all the other times. You did a lot of worlds a favor. I need that in my life. I need to be that, and I don’t know how. Do you understand?”
He stares at me blankly, his tail undulating around my legs in some kind of weird caress that isn’t off-putting.
I squeeze my hands tight enough that his lips pooch out a little. “I need you to show me how to be a hero, Kimi. Or maybe a morally gray villain? Those aren’t irredeemable, right?”
His eyes widen as he stares, and a little spark of life enters his eyes. Somehow, after all his mood swings lately, that spark scares me more than any of the dead-eyed looks ever could. But at least he’s responding finally.
“Ok, wifey,” I think is what he says, but I can't be sure with his lips moving like a goldfish.
My shoulders sag in relief, and I press my forehead back to his, “Your service, Kimi.”
He shakes his head like a dog shaking off water, forcing my hands away, and I lean back.
“No problem, Bae. I’ll teach you how to help me kill them all. It will be beautiful. Best honeymoon ever.”
My eyes widen as the Kimi of old returns before I can even blink off the shock.
He leans in and gives me a smacking kiss across my mouth that I barely feel. He makes a rumbling noise like an idling diesel engine before sliding his tongue over his lower lip as if tasting me there and enjoying it. Then he leaps to his feet and gives Ben jazz hands to get his attention.
“Ok, everybody! Wifey wants to kill everyone, so let’s reconvene at the house and get this party started!”
“Wait, what?” I gasp and look around in confusion. “No, I don’t!”
Kimi points a clawed hot pink fingernail in my face and says, “Morally gray. Learn it, live it, love it. Channel it with me now.”
“Ben?” I ask, voice wobbling crazily because I’m halfway about to burst into tears and halfway laughing already.
“Home,” Ben snarls and picks me up, chair and all as if I weigh nothing. I’m enveloped in the black mist that’s enshrouding him, taking comfort from the familiarity. Why am I so weird?
“I got hubby number eighteen!” I hear Kimi call, then a “Yoink!” and Aodhan cursing viciously before I’m taken through a pathway to home.
02. New Fang
Mitri
Ben and Kimi leave first through a portal the dog creates. Then Beatrice in a similar fashion.
I turn back to the table. I pull a kerchief from my pocket to contain the hand and slide it inside my jacket. There is a possibility that the artifact can be used only by its wearer. However, it should remain inert as long as I have no physical contact with it.
“What are you planning?” King asks as he kneels beside his lover to await his incoming tirade.
Instead of replying, I enter the room where Beatrice keeps her files. Once there, I admire the slapdash setup, trying to reprogram my mind so that I can interpret her filing order.
There are notes, pictures, and strings all over one wall. The floor is littered with paperwork and machines I am unfamiliar with. I take a notebook and find a pen hidden underneath it, writing down a few names and addresses from her notes. Once that is done, I tear it out and pocket it before returning to King.
I glance toward Mal’s fallen form. If he is still asleep, is this effect like a spell? I pull the communication device from a pocket and begin a stopwatch.
“Send me a missive when he wakes.”
“Why?” King frowns at me from the floor.
I take the folders from the table and shift them under my arm.
“Are you going to answer me? Of course, you aren’t. Why would you? It isn’t as if you care.” The sneering tone irritates me, and if I understand the phrasing correctly, I believe this is my ‘last nerve.’ I feel compelled to preserve it instead of shooting them both.
“Perhaps if all of you would cease asking ignorant questions and think for yourselves, I would be more inclined to reply,” I answer.
He doesn’t respond, which gains him my full attention. “Allow me to enlighten you then. They have been gone for twenty minutes, perhaps twenty-five, and he still sleeps. I wish to know how long it will last and if it can be used effectively in battle. If she can defend herself, it should be explored thoroughly.”
King kneels with his jaw slackened, eyes wide.
How is it possible that a mere infant of a girl can understand me more than an ally who has known me for over fifty years?
I do not need to speak for her to comprehend most of my thoughts, even without our bond. I only speak aloud because it is important to her. I did not realize I needed to verbally hold hands for others to follow my conclusions.
Vendetta: “She has military training. Likes people watching. Definitely no hope for social cues, though.”
I sigh in agreement and begin leaving.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
I stop mid-step and resist the urge to sigh again. Perhaps being around Beatrice has infected me with something because I turn back to the demon to respond.
“I will take the ring to the Artificer to question him. Then, I will seek out knowledge elsewhere. You will wait for Mal to awaken and use your communications device to begin negotiations with the Delegates.”
“You mean charm them into leaving us alone. And it’s called a phone.”
“Just so.”
“And you’ve never given us this plan before because?”
“I assumed you were capable. My apologies for being incorrect.”
Vendetta: “There is a saying about assuming things.”
I do not wait for his reply; he will either do as instructed or not. I will adjust my plans accordingly.
My vehicle is not outside. Neither is Beatrice’s. Yet the SUV she arrived in is still parked by the fence line. Someone is in the driver’s seat as if waiting for passengers.
Good enough.
I walk to the driver’s side and open the door. The fae behind the wheel studies me carefully and leans away. He sits in silence, waiting for me to speak. I do not.
“That’s for the mender,” a small male voice comes from my left, where an armored faery hovers nervously.
“Dostatochno khorosho.”
I grab the driver by his lapel and pull him from the vehicle, leaving him lying on the ground, and take his place in the seat. Neither utter a sound as I close the door, settle my information on the passenger seat, and drive away.
The trip to the Artificer is made quickly in complete silence. The traffic downtown is oddly light for a Thursday morning. I pass closed businesses that should be open, and no one is on the streets walking. The entire area has become a dead zone seemingly overnight.
I park in the same area I did when I was here last and look around. Further down the street, people walk as if nothing untoward is happening mere feet away. Traffic is of the standard variety, half a mile away. I turn in the other direction and face the solemn emptiness there.
Vendetta: “A ward of some sort.”
Isolating the farther reaches of downtown from the suburbs? Curious. I passed easily.
Vendetta: “You’re covered in artifacts. Who knows which one worked. No one else seems aware of it.”
As there is no sign of impending violence or anything else of interest, I continue on my way. I see no point in delving into another mystery when my hands are overflowing with troubles.
There are no vendors on the street leading to the Artificer’s door. I begin to wonder if he has remained in place due to the current circumstances. His door is still there, and I try the knob. Locked.
I pull Vendetta and fire through the deadbolt mechanism I spied when I was here previously and then through the knob itself, allowing myself inside.
“Was that really necessary?” Artificer demands and removes his hands from his ears. “Those locks were warded by the Hag. Do you know how much that cost me?”
I slide Vendetta back in place, dig a few rubies from one pocket, and toss them onto his counter. Then I pull out my kerchief and unroll it beside them, revealing the hand.
“You’re insane,” he snaps and comes from behind his beaded curtain to join me safely on the other side of the counter. “What is this?”
“The ring. I need to know precisely what it does.”
He stares at it silently for an extended period before he raises his head, revealing his narrowed eyes.
“Did you do this?”
I stare back at him.
“You know this whole section is currently on lockdown because Delegate stooges are around questioning people about an assault on a Delegate, right? The one who got her hand lopped off?”
“Perhaps you should hurry then.”
Vendetta: “Mystery solved.”
Yes, and problems rising if I am caught with it. Their need to find the ring is more paramount than a Delegate’s hand.
“I’m not open,” his teeth make a slight squeak as he grits them.
I wait.
“If I am caught with this, with you of all people, it’s the Bowels for me.”
“I have many issues to attend to today. You can cooperate now or after.” I can tell by the heavy swallow in his throat that I do not need to express what ‘after’ I am speaking of.
Yes, this male is powerful, especially if he is fully prepared, and I do not trust his vulnerable act at all. I have simply lost my patience for the day.
Vendetta: “So she’s pissed at you. Get over it.”
“Answer,” I bark out in my old tongue before I can focus on the pistol’s words.
“Do not go back to that place of mind, Kostya,” he warns me hesitantly. He has seen me at one of my lowest points, and I should heed his advice. However, it is a struggle. The weapons are silent.
“What is going on?” Artificer insists.
“I simply need you to tell me what the ring does,” I speak slowly and evenly, regaining some semblance of control.
He turns back to the hand, looking at it from every angle as I watch. He does not touch it, and his frown deepens the longer he peruses it. He gives me firm instructions to turn it this way and that, to flip it palm up. As he refuses to touch it, I use the kerchief for each adjustment.
He goes back to his workshop and returns with several items.
After having me place the hand into a low dish, he pulls on a pair of heavy gloves studded with stones, then a knife, and severs the finger. Once it is detached, he pulls the ring off easily and pulls out a magnifying glass to inspect it.
As he works, my mind turns to other issues. Makarov is now in play, and I do not have a verified location for him. I know Ta-ament is down in the southern section with Enghdall as she bears watching, but they will come here with all the turmoil. They may already be present, as the ward and shutdown of this section prove. The higher level of the spell could be Enghdall. The coercion of the masses could be Ta-ament.
I hope that her matehood has curbed her untoward advances. I did not enjoy being in a succubus’ pull to bed her. Poisons to coerce the unwilling are more the thing in this age.
Peacemaker: “Time to start checking our vodka again.”
Vendetta: “Two possibly located. Third to be placed.”
It is not confirmed yet.
Any Delegate ranked low to high could have a ring of this caliber. Depending on who created it and how many were produced. There has to be a more expedient way to find out who. I will have to update my list of Delegates and their minions.
Vendetta: “We may need to wipe the board clean again.”
We will need to be more cautious this time. We will not be able to simply disappear.
Vendetta: “You think she will want to keep us around?”
I shut my eyes and inhale deeply.
“A Delegate had this?” Artificer interrupts my meditation with a grim tone.
“Correct.”
I meet his eyes, filled with anger, and shoulders tensed as he clutches the ring.
“The man who made this went missing hundreds of years ago. His work was good enough to rival mine.”
“Immortal, long-lived, or other?”
“Other. Standard Human life span. When he was gone, many looked for him, myself included. We couldn’t even find a body.”
“Taken under mysterious circumstances?”
“His shop was ransacked. All of his best work was taken, along with him.”
“How do you know this was his work?”
He turns the ring to show the inside of the thick band and moves his spyglass over it. A small inscription reads, “Evie, I will always love you.”
