Page 93 of The Bonds of Indigo

“Did you get what you wanted?” I’m irritated, and it bleeds into my tone.

“Mhmm.” She moves my hand from where it had slowly crept over her heartbeat, then drags her dripping hair forward over her shoulders so it curtains her breasts.

“Why aren’t you hurt, then?”

“This is so hard to explain, Butcher. You aren’t supposed to see them.”

“Them?”

She takes a cautious step back. “Thornwyn isn’t… a creature of this world. They walk among mortals as spirits. Same with Grimhorns.” My furrowed brows keep her talking. “That day at the gas station… you heard one of them. It came for me. They’re Belial’s bidders, but they can be summoned by Witches and other Demons alike. You aren’t meant to see them or hear them—truly, you aren’t meant to know they exist. I think… it’s the bond.” Her voice climbs toward panic, her heartbeat spiking. “And again, Gods, I’m so sorry.”

My eyes widen in surprise. I mean, yes, it was inconvenient at first. Sure, I have to concentrate not to speak to her through my internal thoughts, but it’s not that bad. However, by the way she reacts, it’s like she’s taken my life away from me…

“I swear I didn’t mean to,” she continues. “I would’ve never done that to you. It wasn’t supposed to⁠—”

I step toward her. When she tries to retreat, I don’t let her. My hand slides to the back of her head, pulling her forehead to my chest as I wrap my arms around her.

She gasps sharply, her whole body stiff as a board.

“It’s alright, Amarah.”

Her movements are painfully slow, hesitant, but eventually her shoulders loosen and her arms circle my waist. I thread my fingers through her hair, my other hand steady on her shoulder as she clings to my shirt and rubs her forehead against me.

“Is it alright?” The pain in her voice shouldn’t gut me the way it does. “I don’t think it is. I don’t think… it’ll ever be alright.”

I swear she’ll be alright. There’s more going on with her and I refuse to let her go once our deal is done. Things may not be alright now, but they will be. I’ll make sure of it.

Dragging my hand down her back, I’m ready to tell her exactly that—until my fingers catch on uneven skin. Raised ridges, shallow valleys, dips and puckers. Every inch I travel is wrong.

My entire world flashes red.

I yank her back and spin her so fast she gasps.

“Yeah, she’s got a bunch of… tattoos on her back, or markings. You should ask about them.” Atlas, that fucking liar. These aren’t markings. They’re not ink. They’re scars—dozens of them. No. Hundreds.

“Who did this to you?!”

Chapter 25

Ithink I’m struck dumb, because I physically can’t move or speak.

Vendra herself, the moment he held me, everything else vanished. I forgot where I was, who I was, and the complete shitshow that has been my life. Not even a fleeting thought remained that he might drag his large, warm hands across my back and feel the evidence of my falsely accused sin.

“Amarah.”

I wish he’d go back to calling me little slayer. My name on his tongue is driving me mad, and I can’t fucking think straight. I want him to go back to viciously hating me—back to the point where he was ready to break my neck. Instead of this possessive, overbearing, way-too-caring man.

“What?!” I snap back, sharper than I intend.

“What happened? Who…”

His touch ignites every feeling I’ve been running from since he showed up in my hotel room to shave my damn legs.

“Don’t worry… you’ve already killed them.”

He pauses halfway down my spine.

“Butcher, this was my punishment⁠—”