Ruler [Blood Magic, Book 3]

Chapter 17: Breakfast for Two

Keel touched the glass to his lips and took a sip, then a bigger one. He tilted his head back, savouring. I couldn't see his face, but I could picture it, eyes closed, features slackened by the blood bliss.

I took a breath. Time for phase two.

Time to give him something to think about other than babies. Time to give my stay a new purpose. And make amends.

I thought of my blood, my magical blood, the blood that had just flowed from his mouth to his throat and stomach, and I thought of everything I stole from him during my months in New York. I fed the spell the creeping realization and abject horror of discovering all the sickness and instability I'd caused. And then I gave a little of that power - that life force - back. Just a jolt.

Keel's eyes flew open and met mine. A flash of fear crossed his face. No, Keel, you aren't the only who can use the bond to wield influence on a body, I thought, but kept it to myself. It wouldn't be useful. Instead, I changed the ingredients, the emotions of the spell, and sent him calm. A twilight beach, waves lapping up against the sandy shore, no one in sight for miles.

"Stop." The word dropped like a bomb. Loud and serious.

I let the spell fizzle, and sat up. "Tough to accept someone messing with your body, isn't it?"

"You took an oath."

"News flash, Your Majesty: the bond doesn't give a shit about oaths, just like it didn't give a shit about that blood contract we signed. It only wants one thing: to strengthen itself, and it does that through us, and in turn it strengthens us, if we don't turn into utter lunatics along the way, that is. And you know what else? That's just one of the things I know about it. Do you want to hear more?"

He crossed his arms and pinned me with his stare. "How do you know these things?" It wasn't just a question, it was a confrontation.

I chose to meet it head on. "I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you, so let's just say I heard it from a very reputable source. But don't take my word for it, you know what the bond's demanded of you, what it wants."

Keel grabbed my legs and swung me around so I was facing him. "This bond has many wants. And if giving into them would grant us more power..."

I tried to ignore his fingers digging into my thighs. Much harder to put out of my head were the primal emotions flowing through the bond at me. I placed my hands on top of his. Fire to his ice. "Look deeper," I implored. "It sticks us with these physical desires because they're the rawest of our connections, the easiest to manipulate. Let yourself feel what's underneath all that."

Keel's eyes dropped down. Blood was soaking through my pants. His claws had cut clear through both the fabric and my skin. "Hunger," he said, voice so low and feral that I almost didn't recognize the two syllables as a word.

My legs hurt, but not as much as they should have. Even in this moment of forced honesty, the bond was working its own angle. Not for the first time, I wondered how many of its subtle manipulations I no longer noticed. In time, I realized, it might mould me, change me, and achieve its ends by a slow and steady breakdown of wills, until I was someone unrecognizable. For the moment, I ignored all of that.

The bond may be the hulking, neon elephant in the room, but Keel loomed much larger.

I waited for him look back up at me. When he did, we locked eyes.

"Then drink," I said.

It was all the invitation he needed. His claws sought out the holes they had left in my pants and tore the bottom of the legs right off, leaving me in ragged short shorts. Then he sank down and put his mouth to the wounds, starting with the left leg before moving to the right. If anyone walked in right now, it would look like he was doing something much, much worse.