She's an older woman, older than Davies even, and she has the sharp features that you would expect of such a cold-blooded person. She looks as though her vicious personality has carved out the angles of her face and shoulders.
Her hair is blonde, but you can see where parts of it have started to turn white. It's not a power thing like mine, it’s just that she’s letting it age naturally instead of coloring it. Whether that’s a choice or just the result of living in a camp is anyone’s guess.
Her face is pulled into a sneer as she looks around at all of her incapacitated guards. We move forward and Gryphon's arm rises with the gun in his hand. I think it is more of a comfort to him than an actual attempt to use a weapon against her.
As we approach her, the ground beneath our feet begins to tremble.
“Did you really think you were going to be able to come in here and kill me, little Soul Render?” she says. I refuse to react to her words or the cold tone of her voice.
I had only met this woman a few times during my stay in the camps, but that was enough for me to know that she is a sociopath, completely unable to empathize with anyone around her. All that this woman cares about is power and how to get her hands on more of it.
She would’ve killed me at fourteen and consumed my Gift whole, if she’d be able to, without question or remorse for the child she was murdering. I take a breath as I peruse her critically, taking in the tired lines of her body.
She looks unwell.
She looks as though something terrible has been happening within her Bonded Group, and I pray that Davies is looking the same way.
I stare at her for a second longer, waiting with a calculated pause as I let my Gift cast out once more. I can get a decent feel of her, thanks to years of having to read these people on the fly for my own survival. I can tell that she thinks that I'm hesitating because I don't know what to do here.
I use that to my advantage.
She raises her hand, and North sends through our mind link, Don't worry about it, Bonded. Focus on what you're doing, and let us take care of her.
The ground around us begins to tremble again as she calls on her Gift, and I panic just a little. I can't just let her take the first swing at us. My trust in my Bonded might be a hundred percent, but I also know what it feels like to lose one of them now, and I'm never going to feel that again.
Never.
I cast my Gift out as far as I can go, aware that my bond still has limitations, thanks to the soul-bonding. I'm careful to direct it towards the strongest Gifted that I can. I was helping Gryphon monitor the area, but I was absolutely taking note of who was clustered where in this place, mapping out a plan of where I could draw power from if, and when, I needed it.
Like right the hell now.
Lydia raises her hand again, and I watch as the ground in front of us begins to break open, fissures in the earth opening up and falling away.
I stumble a little, Atlas catching me and setting me back onto my feet. The air around Nox begins to thicken as he calls on the rest of his shadow creatures, ready to strike out to protect me and the rest of our Bonded Group, but I’m already two steps ahead.
Lydia raises her hand up one more time as though she's calling the earth up to follow her, her mouth opening as she prepares to bury us all, to crush us under the weight of the earth and suffocate us, and I pull.
I pull my power and I pull the souls out of a hundred Gifted around the camps, all of the strongest powers that I could find. I’ve picked out the people who were most likely to be a danger to us or the TacTeams, and I pull their souls right out of their bodies and into my own being.
My skin burns as my bond consumes the feast I give it, my eyes shifting to black even as I hold on to control. My bond comes to the surface to be with me as I prepare myself for what I need to do.
Lydia's eyebrows twitch for a second, the smallest moment of hesitation, and I strike, taking a hold of her soul once more. This time, when I pull, it comes loose. Her bond fights against mine, clawing at the edges as it’s forced out of her body, but I'm stronger than she is, even as weakened as I have been. With one final tug, it comes through, hurtling towards me as it crashes into my chest and down into the depths of my stomach.
There's a part of me that doesn't want to consume a soul like Lydia's, but there's no way that my bond would let such a feast go, and with a sickening crunch, her body hits the ground, dead before it lands.
All hell breaks loose in the camp around us.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gabriel’s bond
They want what is mine.
The moment the Transporters start to appear, bringing with them dozens of men who would take my Bonded from me, I take control from my vessel, a roar bursting from his human lips as the shift takes hold. I come out to protect what is ours; mine and my vessel’s and the others who were made to worship and covet the god that walks with us.
The other Bonded begin to move into place to protect the girl and my bond who lives inside of her. There’s the chaos of war breaking out around us, too fast for my shifting eyes to take in, but I cannot be distracted from what needs to be done.
Kill them all.
Burn them all.
Dozens of Transporters are appearing around us, each carrying a Gifted with enough power that the Neuro begins to look around for an exit strategy.
There will be no exit for us now.
They have come for our Bonded, and we cannot let them take her from us. The god within him needs to awaken and take control before the vessel loses the fight for us.
My Bonded is covered by the Cleaver, his body an indestructible mass between her and our enemies. It has been a long time since I’ve been here, but the last time I was, the Cleaver was here too. We work well together, sure in our job to keep our Bonded safe.
He’s worthy to be left protecting her.
I move to take flight, entering the skies above them to gain an advantage.
The sound of gunfire rips through the air, unfamiliar to me, but the vessel knows it and directs me to move evasively, curving my body this way and that. The moment it stops, I turn my head back to spit fire on the row of tents at the center of the camp, taking out dozens of enemies inside as their screams fill the air.
Pride swells in my chest at the sounds.
The sound of my enemies dying torturous deaths for daring to go after my beloved Bonded. Mine. My Bonded. The Bonded I’ve waited millennia for, the one who completes me and is the reason I keep returning to this wretched place.
The heart that beats outside of my own chest.
Mine.
The rapid, pattering sound of the bullets starts again, but I’m already on a steady course, unable to veer away without risking hitting my Bonded and the others with the flames, so I stay on course and accept that they might hit me. I might be shot out of the sky. As long as my Bonded lives, it will be a good and worthy death.
The tiny pieces of lead hit my tail and one of my wings, stinging but not endangering my life. The three bullets that hit the soft underside of my belly are the real danger, and I let out a roar of pain as hot streams of blood rain out from me onto the battlefield below. It’s not a mortal wound, not right away, and so I circle back to take out another long line of tents. I have to be sure not to hit any of our own men and women as I spit out liquid fire.
There are hundreds of Resistance being transported in faster than my Bonded can pull the souls out of. The god within the vessel is consuming what it can and channeling power through to the rest of the Bonded as fast as it can, but the sheer volume of bodies is overwhelming.