Page 53 of Bond of Passion

“Tav—” She tried to say his name. Tried to say anything, but nothing came out. Nothing but blood.

Her body trembled, but she couldn’t move anything on her own. Tavin stepped back, his arms guiding her gently to the floor tiles, and his eyes were filled with tears.

His hand though…dear God, his hand.

He had a thin, bloody blade clenched in his fist. In an instant, she understood what had just happened.

He’d killed her. The love of her life had just murdered her.

Deja jackknifed off the couch with a scream. A primal one of pain and betrayal, and she couldn’t make it stop.

Even when her voice wore out, the screaming went on inside her head.

She’d been waffling, feeling guilt about what she was doing.

But no more. Tavin would pay for what he’d done to her.

Maybe then the screaming would stop.

* * * *

Screaming. He heard Gristlen screaming.

Tavin tossed in the bed, somewhere between being awake and knowing he was at home, and being asleep and on the verge of a nightmare.

Thatnightmare.

He tried to wake himself up, but the tug of healing slumber took him deeper.

Into the memory.

Naked, still covered in Gristlen’s blood, Tavin stumbled out of the bathroom.

He needed to get his shit together. Ream would be here at any moment.

Gristlen.

His stomach heaved, and he wheeled around, making it to the toilet mere seconds before he lost every meal he’d ever eaten.

He’d killed the love of his life.

He heaved and heaved until he trembled, and his throat was raw. Finally, after what seemed like a hundred years, he pushed to his feet. Numb, he avoided looking at the shower as he brushed his teeth and got dressed.

Afterward, he carefully, reverently, covered her body with a sheet. Here in the demon realm, she wouldn’t disintegrate, and his boss, Detharu, would want evidence that Gristlen was dead, especially since Tavin hadn’t killed her within the allotted timeframe. Basically, he’d done the unthinkable, and he’d broken a contract.

Tavin had made excuses, and when those no longer worked, he’d gone on the run with her, tried to hide her at his house and a series of hotels in every region of Sheoul, and even in the human realm where he could sneak her in. And all the while, she’d thought he was being romantic.

Then, last week, Mako had caught up with them. And although Tavin had taken that bastard out, Mako had made it clear that Tavin’s time was up. If he didn’t kill Gristlen, the next assassins who came after them would torture her, likely for days, while he watched. And then they’d kill them both.

He couldn’t let her die that way.

His backpack lay next to the bed, and as he fumbled through it, he wished like hell he could use some of the weapons on himself. Pain wracked him, pain no knife could carve out, but that didn’t stop him from wishing he could sink a blade into his black heart.

Unfortunately, his assassin bond prevented him from killing himself. Still, he swore he’d do it the day he was free. He couldn’t live like this. Didn’t want to.

Slowly, methodically, he strapped on his weapons. Knives in his boots. Throwing stars in his belt pouch. Marble-sized bombs in a pocket. He also had a pistol, even though bullets weren’t generally effective against most demons.

When he was done dressing, he sank onto the bed, gaze locked on the door as he waited for Ream to show up.