Blood Bonds(The Bonds That Tie #3)(8)

He doesn’t answer for a second, his breathing even and slow, and then he murmurs back, “He tortured you. The IW… I read what they did to you. They tortured you. You didn’t give them your Bonds’ names. You didn’t break.”

I swallow and desperately want to change the subject. “I did break. I let my bond take the pain for me. I let it become the monster instead of me.”





I refuse to speak about anything else with Kieran after that, too much honesty freaking me all the way out until I’m a jittery mess. I spend the time talking quietly with my bond to see if we can actually do something about how much pain Kieran is in but I’m not a Healer, no matter how well I can repair the men who belong to me, and my bond has nothing to give.

I wonder if I can convince someone else here to heal him for me?

There’s a rustling and more noises outside, and then the tent flaps open again as the older woman from before bustles in again, this time with two plates filled to the brim with more of the same food. I’m not surprised to be getting a second helping. It’s well known that I need the extra calories post-gift usage, but I’m guessing he’s been given the slop they serve the so-called sheep. The steaming plate of roast chicken with all of the sides, smothered in gravy, is a sight for sore eyes.

Or growling belly.

She walks over to us both but ignores Kieran, instead meeting my eyes with an authoritative look and says, “I’ve been told to loosen your restraints so you can eat. If you attempt to move in any way, I will zap your ass into next year.”

Ah.

So she hasn’t been told that her gift won’t work on me thanks to my bond being the second biggest monster in this camp? Poor woman. I play along nonetheless, mostly because I know it irritates that man when I do.

He never understood why I wouldn’t just kill everyone he sent my way, and I’m sure he picks them all carefully. Choosing the most annoying, the sleaziest, or the most arrogant of his underlings that he can get his hands on.

Once my hands are bound in front of my body and I can feed myself, the woman hands me my plate and then finally turns to Kieran, shoving his plate at him as though he’s dirt beneath her shoes, and walks back out.

“What the fuck is this? Are we being poisoned?”

I shake my head at him and shove a forkful into my mouth. “Welcome to VIP life in the camps, Black. As my Bond, you’ll be fed three hot meals a day. You won’t be beaten or attacked in the showers, and if anyone attempts to incapacitate you, they'll answer straight to the top man himself. All it will cost you is daily torture sessions and being forced to put up with lines of questioning that will have you considering suicide just to get it to end.”

He blinks at me and then when he’s watched me shove half my plate into my mouth, he finally picks up his own fork and gets to work on the chicken.

“It’s flavorless,” he gripes, and I scoff at him.

“It’s the Resistance, were you really expecting something different? Who knew you were so spoiled?”

He shakes his head at me and keeps eating, with far more decorum than I have, goddamn him. There’s a lot of noise in the camp around us, they’re preparing for something big, some mission they’re about to set out on to tear Gifted families and Bonded groups apart.

I loathe the lot of them.

We eat in silence for a few minutes longer, right until Kieran is using the last of his bread roll to sop up the gravy, and then I finally ask the question I’ve been working my way up to, afraid of the answer. “Have you seen Kyrie?”

He sets his empty plate down beside himself and stretches out his bad leg, wincing again. I curse under my breath, but he shrugs it off. I’m sure it’s incredibly painful… I wonder if there’s Tac training for learning how to ignore that level of pain or if he’s just built like that?

I learned after many, many torture sessions.

Kieran grunts and then murmurs softly, “She’s in the cages with the other women. They haven’t sorted them or tested any of them yet. Davies has been too focused on having you back. He was positively gleeful about it.”

I nod and look around the tent again as though a key or weapon is going to jump out at me to get me the hell out of these frustrating restraints. The forks are both plastic, and the tech in the restraints would just melt them if we tried.

Maybe Sawyer would be useful to me right about now.

I try to ignore Kieran’s eyes on me, but they bore into my skin until finally he says, his voice low, “You’re too calm. If this is the place you were tortured as a kid, for two years, you should be more… worried. What’s your plan? Why are you so calm?”

I shove the last of my potatoes into my mouth so that I don’t have to answer him for a minute, chewing slowly. How do I answer him without giving away too much? Is there such a thing anymore?

There’s not really any secrets left… except one, and there’s no amount of torture that could pry that out of me.

“I’m not calm… I’m sure. There’s enough happening here that’s the same as last time, so I know how this is going to go. I know what has to happen to get us out. We just have to be patient and, probably, take a little pain. I’m sorry about that part, but there’s no avoiding it. Does your bond help out with that stuff? I’m not really sure how other people’s bonds work.”