Page 24 of Bonding Beasts (Bonding: The Ultimate Guide #3)

He's studying me. Calculating how long it takes me to move after every shot. Trying to understand his prey. I’m not entirely of this dimension, though. He’ll have to expand his imagination to get a handle on me.

“Why are they here?” I ask again calmly.

“Bring her to me.”

I rub both hands over my face in exasperation. “You want me to bring her here? With them ? Two of them have killed her, and the third put in effort at it. Explain to me why you think that’s a great idea.”

“He has a point,” Kimi points out in a lifeless tone. “But I didn’t kill her.”

Both Mitri and I turn to look at him.

He stares back at us.

Something isn’t entirely right with him. He isn’t bouncing or humming to himself. He’s perfectly still and quiet as he gazes intently at us. Madness has a home in his eyes, but it’s been joined by total focus. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

It seems Mitri feels the same because he doesn’t take his eyes off Kimi. He’s kneeling calmly in his cage.

Maybe that’s what’s affecting him so severely. Being an animal in a cage, even in a Humanoid form, can be rage-inducing.

“The answer is no,” I return to the topic at hand as I study the cat male. Although he’s no more an actual cat than I’m a true dog, it’s all relative.

Both of them face me.

“Bring me my wifey, doggo.”

“You will bring her.”

I blink at the speech patterns. It’s like hearing the same monotone with two different, flat pitches. I thought my dual vocal cords were creepy, but this is another step up.

“Do either of you care that it puts her in danger?” I spread my hands in a gesture encompassing the entire house. “You’ve violated a place that she considers a sanctuary. Our home. Kill them and clean up the mess, then I’ll consider it.”

A bullet pierces through my forehead, and I’m done trying to be rational.

I rush him, reaching for his wrist to control at least one point of his advantage. I forgot how fast immortals can be and get rewarded for it when I’m shot twice in the chest before I can make it close enough to grab him.

The gun tracks my path as I slide to his side and grip his forearm. Once I have it, I throw a hard punch into his kidney.

Instead of staggering, gasping, or any of the other reactions I’m used to, he uses my grip to spin my body in front of him with a half-turn, shifting his hand to grasp me instead and pulls me closer .

He dropped his gun with the move, which clatters to the floor below us.

I’m expecting another gun blast, but you don’t need to rear your arm back for that. The second gun morphs in front of my eyes as he brings it down onto my shoulder and through it, separating my arm from my body with one swift hit of the hatchet he now holds.

He flings my severed arm into the farthest corner of the room, buying himself some time before I can reform, then pays my kidney punch back to me with interest.

Five stabs with his new dagger later, I spin into his body, back to chest, and shove us both backward.

He loses his footing with my weight, but our momentum is halted by the table behind us.

It shifts back, and I hear two oomphs and the jarring ring of the cage falling to the floor.

His blade never rests, continuing to stab into me anywhere his reach will allow.

My arm reforms and I ignore the knife for now, crouching down to grip his forearms and lurching forward two steps to heft his weight onto my back, springing up to drop us both horizontally onto the table.

It gives a sharp crack under our weight and groans but holds steady.

He finally loses his breath with the hit, arms flagging the slightest amount, allowing me to spin out from under his arms and trap him to the table under my weight, crossing his limbs over his chest to keep him still for a moment.

This is fun. The most I’ve had in years.

I wonder what it would be like if I stopped holding myself back and really went for it.

Can he fight blind if I take his eyes? Could he recover if he lost an arm, or is blood loss an issue ?

But my newfound, weak emotions are slithering up, warning me that if I damage him too much, Bees will never forgive me.

I meet his gaze with my own. He isn’t down yet, and he’s determined to continue as if he can force her to appear if he damages me enough.

I won’t give in, and neither will he.

The look in his eyes reminds me of Bees as she lost control, struggling to get to him equally as hard. I feel a sharp pang of jealousy before it clicks.

He’s losing it because the bond snapped, just like she did.

I wonder if he can be rational or if that’s a losing battle.

He was emotionless enough before that a conversation wouldn’t be difficult.

Right now, I have my doubts. If I want this to proceed without bloodshed for the next few hours, I need to go for shock value.

“She’s still wounded,” I offer him the truth and the strength he’s using to leverage me off of him stills. “I won’t risk moving her.”

“Take us to her then,” Kimi interrupts the stare-down.

I lift my head towards the sound of his voice and come face to sharpened point with his tail. It’s aimed at my left eye, less than an inch away, and holding steady.

“Really?” I ask in exasperation before I open my mouth to its fullest extent and bite the appendage.

I expect my teeth to go through clean, but his skin stops me. That’s not gold. It’s something else with a tang to it I’m unfamiliar with. Blood wells up where my teeth have managed to sink in, and the flavor is odd, too.

It’s vile .

Cinnamon and caramel mixed together with some kind of coffee creamer.

Disgusting .

Before I can pry my jaws apart, the spike on the end of the tail extends, piercing through the back of my throat. I open my mouth wide and glare at him. Not content with that bit of violence, he hefts my weight off of Mitri and throws me across the room with his tail.

It's time to rethink my judgments of Kimi, too.

I land in a crouch and shift my mouth back to a standard size.

“That’s my husband. I don’t know you,” Kimi says in a flat tone.

Mitri sits up and stands, straightening his jacket, then reaching down for the gun before putting it away. They stand side by side, watching me as I rise from my crouch.

All is silent for a full minute as we eye each other. Mitri seems calmer, and Kimi is eerily steady, standing so still even his tail isn’t moving from where it’s coiled by his feet. None of us speak.

A muffled roar comes from behind them, Mal losing his patience.

“He is a gift,” Mitri finally breaks the silence.

“What?” I swipe grave dust from my shoulder and hope this ends soon so I can shower.

“I see,” Kimi turns back towards the seated prisoners. “He’s hers to torture, and Mal would interfere.”

I pause in my dusting to stare at Mitri.

“I need to step up my gift-giving game,” Kimi continues in a murmur.

I lean over to take another look at King and Mal.

Both are still secured in place with cloth, lips sealed.

I pace around the chairs as their eyes follow me, Mal’s with a feral rage and King’s with fear he’s trying to hide.

I pull the damaged table away from them with one hand to study their fronts.

Neither appear harmed, but I scent the fading residue of a sleep spell on them.

It’s pretty thoughtful of him. I would have just eaten King and pretended he had disappeared.This way, she has a choice on how he should be punished. That squishy feeling inside flares up at the thought and then withers.

“She won’t be able to punish him herself. She’s dealing with the other one’s death poorly.”

“She cried,” Kimi agrees. “But that’s why she has us.”

His tail does a circular motion, indicating the three of us.

“It is her choice,” Mitri says.

I sigh and nod in agreement as Mal’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“I need to clean up,” I look down at myself in disgust. “If she sees me like this, she’ll freak out. You guys clean the rest of this, and if she’s well enough, I’ll bring her here.”

Kimi claps his hands once and begins digging into his suit jacket, pulling out all manner of clothing and weaponry.

“Do you have a dimensional pocket?” I ask in surprise.

He doesn’t answer as he pulls out a short red sequined dress and eyes it critically before shaking his head with a muttered, “Not this time. Maybe later.”

“What are you doing?” I try again as he draws out a candelabra filled with lit candles and sets it on the cracked table.

“Mitri, clean up some,” Kimi eyes the wrinkled state of the immortal’s suit. “Our wifey is coming home.”

Mitri’s fingers snap, and six Brownies appear in my kitchen, scurrying over to clean the soil and blood from the floor and repairing the table with their magic.

“And now I have a brownie infestation,” I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut.