Binding Ties
Page 78

“Is Joseph behind you?” she asked.
The older boy shook his head. “He had to stop before the cavern and hold them off. There were too many left for him to risk them surrounding him on all sides.”
Lyka reached out to him, but all she got was a sense of weariness and growing concern.
“How many were there?” she asked.
The boys shared a frightened look with each other. “Hundreds.”
As strong as Joseph was, as skilled as he was, and even with the advantage of the tunnels limiting his foes, there was no way he could defeat odds like those.
You need to hurry, said Joseph. I can’t hold them off much longer.
She opened herself up to him and, sure enough, she saw the kind of odds he faced. There were demons as far as the eye could see, their bodies pressing together, trying to force Joseph back into the giant cavern a few yards behind him.
Lyka looked at the boys. “The exit is clear. Put your left hand on the wall and don’t take it off. Keep moving upward. Eric and the others are already on their way out.”
“We can’t go alone,” said the younger boy.
“Yes, you can,” she told him, giving him a little shake. “Go now. Hurry.”
The boys took off on scrawny legs, kicking up dust behind them.
Don’t you dare come back here, Lyka, said Joseph.
Don’t you dare die before I get there, Theronai.
It’s too late. I can’t hold them. Run!
Chapter 45
One of Joseph’s greatest fears had been that he would die behind a desk. Now he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
He’d served his people well, fought hard and found true love. It was more than most men ever got, and a life he was lucky to have led. His only regret was that he wouldn’t live long enough to let Lyka know just how much he loved her, how precious she was and how honored he was that he got to call her his, if only for a little while.
I’m not done with you yet, she told him.
He knew he wasn’t getting out of here alive. He’d known it from the time he’d sent those boys running while he held off the demons on their tail. There were too many Synestryn for him to defeat alone, and there was no way he was going to call Lyka for help.
She needed to survive. His people needed her. There were so few female Theronai that every one was precious.
She more precious than most—at least to him.
There was no sorrow in his sacrifice. He could not think of a more noble death than defending innocents and protecting the life of his mate. It sure beat the hell out of dying of boredom in his office back at Dabyr.
He could feel the powerful flex of Lyka’s muscles as she ran toward him. She’d shifted to her tiger form and was rushing headlong into danger.
Don’t do this, Lyka. Please. Turn around.
Not going to happen. If you don’t want me to die down here, then keep your ass alive. I’m almost there.
Tell Nicholas that my death wish is for him to lead the Theronai.
Do I look like your secretary? she asked. Tell him yourself.
The demons were bearing down on him. One had already slipped around behind him and left a deep gash on his back.
At least those swords weren’t poisonous. His body was still going, despite the pain of his wounds. But it wasn’t going to last much longer. It was simply a matter of numbers.
Fatigue weighed down on him. Even using the trick of pulling power from the earth, his cells were starting to rebel. His reflexes were slowing, his muscles burning. Every slice his sword made was doing less than the last. As the sheer mass of demons pressed him, his only choice was to take a strategic step back now and then to avoid taking damage. Each step gained his enemies ground toward the cavern that was only a few feet behind him.
And once he was in there, he was dead. No amount of fancy sword work was going to keep them from attacking him from all sides.
Another attack shoved him back a step. He could hear the echo of steel on steel bouncing off the cavern walls behind him.
One slippery little fucker slipped past his guard and popped up at his back. There was nothing Joseph could do to stop the impending blow—not without giving another three demons his back.
That move would kill him for sure.
So he braced himself for the blow, searching for a single second’s opening to turn and deal with the demon at his rear flank.
A feral growl sounded behind him. Then a demon let out a hissing scream of pain as it died—a familiar sound now, after the dozens he’d killed so far.
Got him, came Lyka’s satisfied tone in his head.
He caught a flashing image of a demon’s limp body being shaken in the teeth of her tiger form before she tossed it aside.
A flash of movement warned him a second too late that an attack was coming. His sword was already engaged with another, blocking it from reaching his flesh. He tried to avoid it by taking another step back, but it was too late. There was nowhere he could go to stop the blow.
He felt Lyka’s alarm, felt her siphon off a huge surge of his power.
A pale, shimmering light appeared in front of him as she erected a shield wall. The momentum from combat rocked him back on his heels. He lost his balance and fell back into the cavern opening.
Something was wrong. His body wasn’t responding right. He looked down to see what was the matter.
Protruding from his chest were four inches of rusted steel—the tip of one of the demon’s swords. It had been severed by the shield, which left the blunt end glowing orange where it had been sheared.
Lyka was beside him in an instant. She looked down at him with the eyes of a tiger, but he saw fear glowing in those golden depths.
Don’t move, she told him, panic filtering through with her words. The sword is near your heart.
Was it? He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t feel anything but a faint flutter in his chest and a chill racing through his lifemark.
That was probably a bad sign.
“You need to leave,” he said. “My power won’t be available to you for much longer. Once it fades, you’ll be trapped in here with all the demons behind your shield.”
Your power isn’t going to fade unless you die, and I won’t let that happen. Her tone was confident, but the feeling of panic scampering through her proved it a lie.
His heart fluttered again, only this time it felt like a fist being shoved through his chest. He clamped his lips around a scream of pain and was left panting by the time it passed. “Go, kitten. Please. Before it’s too late.”