Blood Bonds(The Bonds That Tie #3)(15)

“And what about you? Are you going to go talk to someone about getting the shit kicked out of you by Resistance assholes?” I mumble. To my surprise, he nods.

“All TacTeam operatives have mandated counseling sessions. Every last person who serves has to go to debriefs with their higher-ups and then a minimum of monthly sessions with an appointed psychologist.”

What the fuck?

North and Nox both work in Teams when there’s a need. Do they both go as well? Why do I suddenly want to burst into inappropriate giggles at the very thought of Nox sitting there talking about his feelings? I mean, if any of my Bonds needs therapy, it’s that one.

I actually do giggle as the image of North lying on a couch, talking about his day, filters into my brain. How the hell would that go? The greatest control freak I’ve ever encountered just… spilling his guts to some suit.

I wonder if his psychologist is a man?

Oh my God. North has without a doubt fucked his female psychologist. He totally would. He’d bone her so he didn’t have to talk about shit.

“What the fuck are you thinking about, Fallows? Rein it in!” Kieran hisses, breaking me out of my spiraling descent into madness. My eyes haven’t shifted, but when I glance down at him, I can see the hair on his arms standing up and the whites of his eyes are bright as he freaks the hell out.

I blow out a breath and slow my racing heartbeat down as best as I can, murmuring, “Sorry. Shit, sorry. I just… I’m starting to lose it, being away from… being here. Fuck, I’ll stop doing that.”

He watches me carefully, almost gently, like he’s handling a bomb with a hair-trigger, and that’s the exact moment that the women decide to come back for our plates. Neither of them say a word as they grab them but when they stalk out, it’s only a minute before they’re back, carrying a bucket of soapy water and a pile of clothes each.

Ugh.

Wash time.

Zarah puts the bucket down in the center of the tent and snaps, “The showers are out of commission for a few days, but since you’re both our important guests here, you’re getting access to water and clean clothes. Strip and get to it, you both have places to be.”

Another piece of the puzzle for us both to stew on; the fight happened in the showers. It’s warm enough wherever the hell we are that it’s going to be a sweaty, stinking nightmare here soon if they don’t get it repaired and back in action in the next few days.

“Wash him first, I’m happy enough to wait,” I say, jerking my head at where Kieran is at my feet.

I need to get him a chair.

Or a Healer.

“Why can’t you both just do it together? You’re Bonds, right?”

I roll my eyes at her and gesture between us. “You really want my bond getting an eyeful of what he’s offering and wanting to complete the Bond? You know what? Hell yeah! I’ll probably end up strong enough to pull your souls out through your nostrils, even with Franklin here. Go on, Bond. Get your pants off for me.”

Kieran smirks, putting on the cockiest demeanor as he pushes himself up onto his knees and reaches for his pants zipper. I give him serious kudos in my head for playing along with me without question.

The older woman darts in front of me, getting the closest to touching me as she has this entire time, and waves her hands around. “No! No, turn around. Both of you face the opposite directions. Zarah, get the Render another bucket.”

Thank God that one worked.

I mean, I’m not scared of seeing Kieran naked, but I don’t know how to explain that to Gryphon and I’ve had just enough of a taste of his jealousy before to know that he wouldn’t take it well. Even if it was his second-in-command and for a really good reason.

I’m surprised at how much I truly care. Me, not my bond. I don’t want to upset Gryphon or any of the rest of them by looking at another naked man. Jesus, this Bond shit is unbelievable because six months ago, I would’ve gone to an all-male strip club just to mess with them, and now the very thought of that gives me hives.

The guys all better feel like this or I’m going to castrate the lot of them.

After my restraints are loosened, I get up and let Zarah cut my shirt away from my body, but I lose my pants myself. I refuse to let them take my underwear off and I use the washcloth to scrub around them.

I can hear Kieran washing up behind me, but there’s no other sounds from outside the tent to alarm me, so I just focus on my scrubbing.

“If she’s been here before, where’s her scars? You said she got the same,” Zarah murmurs, and the older woman grunts under her breath.

I can’t help but play with her, but it also works in my favor for this stupid woman to be unsure of me, so I let my eyes shift to black and snark out, “You ask too many questions. No wonder you got smacked around. Too bad they didn’t do a decent job of it.”

The older woman slowly lowers her bucket to the ground and then fumbles at her waistband until she pulls a coms handpiece out, pressing a button and murmuring, “Her eyes have gone black again. How should we proceed?”

I grin slowly, showing off my teeth in a very predatory way, and Kieran turns his head, not enough to see me, but just so he can get a bit more of an idea of what’s happening behind him.

There’s a static sound down the handpiece and then Davies' voice comes through loud and clear.