Unbroken Bonds (The Bonds That Tie #6)(81)

“You can go back up to the house and keep an eye on Gabe and Oli if you want to,” Gryphon says as his eyes flash to white.

Aurelia and Jericho’s faces blank out as he takes over their minds and directs their bodies as though they are nothing but puppets.

I look around for a second and then shake my head. “I’m of more use here. I'll help clear the rubble and debris, get the place into a safe enough position to rebuild. We both know Gabe is going to be down here the second he's awake, ready to see what can be patched and what has to be demolished.”

Gryphon shoots me a look for a second, his eyebrows falling low over his glowing eyes. “I thought you'd be eager to get back to Oli.”

I take a deep breath and then shrug. “She's in good hands. There's no point getting bent out of shape and watching over her as she sleeps when she already has more than enough of that going on. Nox is heading back up there with his research, right? She doesn't need three of us sitting around with her, not when all she's doing is resting.”

If anything, this just seems to shock him even more, but he accepts my words, nodding and getting back to transferring the prisoners. His mother presses her hands against the glass, staring at him with the sort of motherly longing that mine had perfected as well. Gryphon deflects it as though she is nothing more than a stranger to him. He shuts her mind down as easily as he did my sister’s before marching her out of the building as well. The Transporters are already waiting there for them, moving all four of them at once.

I already know that Gryphon's power has grown enough that he can keep them cut off even without close proximity, but he probably doesn't want to freak everyone out by doing so, not unless it's truly needed, so he goes along with them.

I get to work helping Gabe’s uncle clear the debris, listening to his instructions and doing the same work as ten men in half the time. At some point, they realize that they're only hindering me with their attempts to help me directly, so the group of workers all step back, watching as I move entire sections of the walls and ceiling myself.

It’s good to feel useful in such a way. The storm in my mind keeps raging, but I lose myself in the manual labor until I forget about anything but clearing rubble.

It’s the least I can do.





In the days after Vivian's death, the change in the Sanctuary is stark. It’s probably not as noticeable to the inhabitants themselves, but to me and the rest of the Bonded Group, it's as though we have been transported somewhere completely different, an alternate reality.

Long gone are the suspicious looks and whispers from the members of the community. The looks of fear and the obvious way that they used to cross the road without a word if we were coming, as if they thought they were being subtle, has vanished.

Gone is the division that was once so keenly felt, even if it was quietly done.

I question North about it a few days in, and it takes him a moment to answer. “Vivian Bentley was a highly respected member of our community, not just by the council or the TacTeams, but by the Lower Tier families as well. He gave a lot of money to charities. He helped food drives, and he and his Bonded Group were responsible for getting a lot of the families that are here to safety. During the riots in the seventies, he was a young Tac operative, and he made a name for himself then. There isn't a single person here who isn't mourning his death, who isn't ready to see those responsible brought to justice. There’s a good reason that he was chosen to run Tac Training back at Draven, and it had nothing to do with nepotism. He was a good man, one who did not deserve the death that he got.”

North looks away from me as he says this, staring down at the paperwork that has already been put together for the rebuild of the Tac Training Center.

The moment that Gabe had woken up and come down, he worked with his uncle and North on the plans. The rebuild is taking precedence over everything else due to the serious nature of keeping the people in the Sanctuary safe. Without a training center, we can't have more operatives joining the ranks, and without more operatives, we’ll quickly lose our task forces. The only thing more important than this place is the dining hall, and that's only because the chef needs a decent place to cook.

I take the plans from North that Gabe had sent me out here for before clapping him on the shoulder, a small show of respect for the grief that he so obviously feels for the man who taught him so much and was a very important figure in his life. He nods back at me, thanking me in his own quiet way before turning back to the other sheets of paper and leaving me to find my way out without another word.

Only a few months ago, that would have pissed me off, but now I see it for exactly what it is. Now isn't the time to talk needlessly, to offer me pretty words when he's feeling so wretched about the world. Right now is the time to get on with things, to work through it or to make things better, no matter the cost.

I get on one of the ATVs downstairs and slowly make my way over to the remains of the Tac Training Center. There's already a large monument of flowers slowly appearing. I've never really noticed anyone leaving anything, and yet there are hundreds of bouquets and wreaths, all of them picked from back gardens or quiet hikes. All of them have cards, offerings of condolences, and provide small bursts of color against the harsh gray concrete.

They are an offering of sympathy and grief for a man who meant so much.

I find my Bonded standing in the rubble, her fists on her hips as she stares around at the mess left behind. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are scrubbed raw from how often she has wiped away tears. It breaks my heart and makes me want to plant my fist in someone's face and break it for daring to hurt her like this. Except the man who did this is already dead, taking his own life so that he can return again someday. I’m not pissed about that, just about the lives he took with him.