Blood Bonds(The Bonds That Tie #3)(16)



“Get them dressed and bring them to my work space. If her bond wants to play, then I’m ready for her.”





Six heavily armored guards escort me through the camps while Kieran is dragged between two others, his leg still not holding any of his weight. I’m going to have to get crafty about finding him a Healer and getting it patched up, or at the very least, in working order again.

He’s kind of a dead weight right now, and dead weights just become plain old dead in this hellhole. I’ve worked too damn hard to keep him alive for the asshole to die because of a snapped freaking leg.

This camp is bigger than the last one I’d been in with Sage and Gabe, but from what I can see, it’s smaller than the one I was held in for the longest time during my two year stay with Davies. When we walk past the shower block, I count eight different guards standing around the perimeter.Two of them are using their gifts to study the grass and canvas like they are about to find a giant sign spelling out what happened there overnight.

I have a few guesses on what actually happened, but I’m still sort of hoping I’m wrong.

There is an entire section of smaller tents that the guards and grunt workers all camp in. They separate Davies from the sheep. It’s very strategic of him to make sure that he’s never going to be caught unaware overnight by an escapee, but I’m surprised he’s keeping Kieran and me so far away.

I used to sleep in the tent over from him.

It was literally my worst nightmare, and it took a full year on the run before I stopped waking up in a puddle of sweat and panic. Thank God I was past it before I had to start sharing my bed with my Bonds. I couldn’t have hidden that from Gryphon’s gift. He would absolutely have ‘tripped’ over those feelings with his Neuro-snooping ways.

God, I miss him.

I miss North’s caring and domineering ways, Atlas’ complete acceptance and love for me, and Gabe’s loyalty to me, kind and savage and sure.

I even miss worrying about Nox’s loathing and his dream-like bed with a hundred nightmares keeping watch over us both, and I fucking miss Brutus like a hole in my heart.

“For the infamous IW, you look kind of pathetic,” the guy holding my arm says. I shrug at him, because if I’m going to be stuck dealing with these assholes, then I might as well have some fun with it.

“It doesn’t really matter how I look though, does it? You’ll still be the first to die when I take this camp. Next will be mouthy Zarah. Then, whoever the fuck broke my Bond’s leg will go next. He kinda needs it to keep up with me.”

The guy scoffs, but the older, bigger guard beside him smacks him on the back of his head and snaps, “For a Neuro, you’re pretty stupid, Cam. She was taking out more people than an atomic bomb at fourteen. Shut your mouth before it gets you killed the minute Franklin gets sent out.”

Cam scoffs some more, puffing his chest out and putting some extra swagger in his step like he’s a big man, but he doesn’t say anything else. No one else tries to speak, and they all clutch at their weapons as we walk through the busy camp. There’s a lot of people bustling around but they scatter away from us with either looks of concern or outright fear.

This is how I know that I really am a monster, no matter what my Bonds have to say otherwise.

When we reach Davies’ tent, we stop outside while the older guard steps in first, probably to announce our arrival and get orders on where to put us, and I take a second to glance back at Kieran and check out how he’s faring with all of the movement.

The answer to that is not well at all.

His usually tanned skin is sallow looking. There’s a fine sheen of sweat over his forehead, and even with his mouth in a firmly controlled line, he looks like he’s about to pass out.

I turn back to face the mouthy young guard again and say in a quiet, low tone, “If he dies from that broken leg, I will trigger every last one of your darkest nightmares until your brain breaks down inside your skull. I’ll use every single trick that Davies tortured into me to prolong your death until you die writhing.”

He gulps.

I’m starting to get addicted to that response.

I hear the tent flap pull back again and then I hear his voice say, “Who would’ve known that all it would take to bring out the darkness in you would be to have your Bonds here too? You delight me, little Render.”

Don’t react to him, Oli. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much you hate having his approval.

The young guard snaps to attention and jerks me forward, acting as though he wasn’t just shitting himself over my words, and he directs me into Davies’ work space. We should count our blessings that it’s this one and not his actual torture tent, but now isn’t the time to point that out to Kieran.

It’s easily five times bigger than the tent we were being kept in and there’s lights hanging from the higher ceiling, making the space bright and inviting. It’s all a farce, the careful way that Davies plans out everything to seem as though he’s a good and decent man and not the utter freaking sadist he is.

There’s a wooden desk at one end of the space near an operating table, complete with restraints and stirrups. I glance over to see Kieran scowling at it. When he meets my eyes, there’s a question there that I can’t really answer right now. He’s probably coming up with all sorts of ideas about what happens on that table, and I’m sure that at least half of them will be correct.

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