Page 11 of Burdened Bonds
“It must have happened in the battle,” I say, sniffing, “the sealing of the bond.” I remember combining our magic, fighting together in unison, our magic so powerful it blazed and roared. So entwined and interwoven it was indistinguishable. When he was hit, it felt like I had been. It felt like my soul had been wrenched from my body.
I feel the ghost, a memory, of that pain now, and I wince.
“Okay, little rabbit?” he asks, alarm suddenly marking his features. “You thirsty? Hungry?”
It’s all a blur after that moment, after Tristan fell to the ground. I don’t remember what happened next, what I didnext. The next memory I have is lying on the ground, staring up into the sinister face of Marcus Lowsky, of thinking I was going to die, and then of this man saving me.
Renzo Barone.
“I’m thirsty,” I admit.
He nods, stands to his feet and walks over to my desk. A tray rests on its surface with a cup, a bowl, a glass and a jug of water. He pours me some of the water into the glass, the liquid tinkling against the surface, and then he hands it to me.
I take it, staring into its clear depths. I hesitate.
“You’ve been drinking my broth the last few hours – not a euphemism.” He chuckles. “Bit late to worry about me drugging and poisoning you now.”
“What broth?” I ask with suspicion, taking a cautious sip of the water.
“Something I brewed for your discomfort. You seemed,” he frowns, “in pain. I didn’t like it. He didn’t either.” He points towards Pip, sitting and watching us both.
“And how long was I out?”
“Several hours.” He turns his back on me and spins his finger in the air above the cup, the liquid inside swirls and bubbles and then he hands it to me too. “Drink this. It’ll help you regain your strength. We got to go.”
“Go? Go where?”
He shrugs, shaking his hand for me to take the mug. “Fuck knows. Away from here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He frowns harder at me. “Yeah, you are.”
I laugh flatly. “Errr, no, I’m not.”
“Little rabbit, I know what you can do.” His unusual eyes twinkle. “You’re fucking powerful. You were safe when they thought I’d killed you. When they thought you were dead.But now they know you’re alive. Now they’ve seen how special you are too. And I’d bet you my knife, they’re all looking for you.”
“Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters.”
“Everyone.”
“Everyone,” I say in annoyance, ignoring his outstretched hand and the cup of broth, “really helpful.”
“You have powers a girl like you shouldn’t have. That makes you interesting, dangerous, useful. To the authorities, to the Wolves of Night, to the other gangs, to whomever Lowsky was working with in the West.”
I sit up straighter. “What do you mean?”
I guess he reads my curiosity and decides to use it to his advantage.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” I nod, “once you’ve drunk that broth and we’re on the road.”
“I’m not drinking it.”
He holds it up and takes a gulp himself, his face screwing up in disgust. “Fuck, that tastes bad.”
