Unbroken Bonds (The Bonds That Tie #6)(86)

“Arrogance always was your strong suit,” it says, drawing out the vowel sounds as though it’s chewing on them. Its voice sounds more and more demonic as the conversation continues.

The Transporter, an older man in his late fifties, watches the two of us warily but with clear eyes. What I wouldn't give to have Gryphon here to tell me exactly what that man is thinking, what he's been promised, or what righteous mission he thinks he's on when really, he's nothing more than a pawn in a game far bigger than he could ever imagine.

The Pain god pitches its tone low for a moment, mimicking real concern that it has no grasp of. It helps that its vessel is an older woman, homely-looking and unassuming, but I know better. “You should come with me, little human. I can try and help get that god out of you, if you'd like. It’s like a parasite, you know. We all are. You really should let me get it out of you before it takes the vessel. You know they do that, right? We all take the vessels at some point.”

I stare back at it, unblinking and unflinching. Eventually, she nods slowly at me. “Well then, let's not waste time talking. If we're going to play our final game, then let's play.”

The Transporter holds his arm out to her and when she takes it, they disappear together, reappearing right next to me before he clamps a hand on my shoulder and takes me with them.

I take a deep, calming breath.

Everything is going to be okay.

We’re following the plan that Nox has put together, and I am not in danger. I say it over and over and over in my head, even as the Transporting seems to take three times as long as it ever has to travel with Kieran. Whether that is his strength or merely that my perception of time is messed up from the tense situation, I don’t know. All that matters is that when we finally appear and I see our surroundings, I want to put my fist through the Pain god’s face.

I refuse to give it the satisfaction.

Instead, I open my mind to my Bonded to make sure they know exactly where I am, following the steps of our plan perfectly. I empty myself of all emotion, everything I feel about where I am, everything that nags at me. Bile creeps up my throat, the motion sickness from the trip here still kicking my ass, but emotionally I let myself have nothing. The tears that desperately want to flow prick at the backs of my eyes, but I will not let it win this way.

The bridge isn't even that high.

“I’m not sure how they ever convinced anyone that your family died of natural causes and not your little Gifted temper tantrum,” it says as it looks over the side of the bridge.

I refuse to blink, because I am so afraid that even shutting my eyes for a millisecond will cause me to have a flashback of the night my parents died, the car hitting the side of our SUV and plunging us off of the bridge. My power had ripped out of my body to decimate everything around us, killing everyone. Everyone, not just our enemies in the car that had been hunting us, but my parents and the family that ran the small dairy farm just a few miles up the road.

It was blamed on a gas leak, a mysterious accident that occurred at the exact same time as the car accident here, like some horrible twist of fate.

The first souls I ever tore out, the ones that weighed most heavily on my shoulders.

“Are you sure you don't want me to get the god out of you? Are you sure you want to keep it? Choosing the side that killed your parents seems awfully short-sighted.”

My bond recoils in my chest, rolling there as though it is slowly pulling itself up into a fighting position. It’s deceptively slow and languid in its movements, when I know that it could lash out faster than the speed of light if required. I feel the way that it reacts to every word that comes out of the Pain god's mouth, the way it tastes them for itself, chews on them, finds them wanting, and spits them out.

The way it sees everything that Pain is doing for exactly what it is, a lie to attempt to trap me. I wonder if it's ever worked before? If this, too, is a part of the trap that it lays? I wonder whether it is feeling cocky about all of this because there is a long history behind it.

If it knows how ridiculous all of this seems to me when it's wearing the face of this woman.

Nightmares, to me, look like Silas Davies.

They look like a man in his prime, handsome to those who are blind to the evil within, the cruel set of his mouth and the way that his eyes pick me apart. He didn't need a god-bond living inside him to be dangerous, deadly, cruel, and wicked.

That was all the man.

“How exactly would you get the god-bond out?” I ask in a low voice as though I'm trying to keep this a secret between the two of us.

I doubt I’m fooling anyone, but I suppose this is the game of cat and mouse that we’re now playing. The Pain god tilts its head, looking me over slowly before reaching out a hand and letting it hover above my temple.

“I know the Eternal has probably told you that it's stronger than me because all of its Bonded are here too, but that's a lie. Power is not something that you share. It's something you take. These gods that live within you and your Bonded Group, they live in a fairy tale, a twisted version of the truth that they desperately want to believe, but it cannot be. You don't have power unless you take it from someone.”

A cold breath of wind rustles the leaves in the trees that line the riverbank. The night air around us seems to drop ten degrees as the god keeps talking, rambling on about its opinions of the way the world should be. It’s all nothing but a ploy to win my compliance.