“We beat him at his own game. We sneak onto the island and make him.” Edgar held up his hand when everyone began speaking at once. “If he wants Annora to help him, then he will need to claim her.”
“Or we could end up rotting in jail.” Xander stood with his hands on his hips. “I don’t like the idea of her entering without some sort of protection. She—”
“They won’t harm her.” Edgar stared her right in the eye, like he was trying to make himself believe it. “She’s too powerful. They’ll fight over the chance to claim her as their slave.”
Everyone protested at once, until Edgar held up his hand. “Daxion won’t allow that to happen. Once the other council members see her, he’ll need to claim her as his daughter or risk losing her completely.”
Xander began pacing again, stepping over Mason’s legs. “We’ll need a backup plan, a place to meet if everything goes to shit. A way to contact each other if we get separated.”
“Can we use the tattoos?” Logan sat up and pushed his arm between her and Camden to display his tattoo. “I’d swear at times that I can sense her.”
“You can.” Mason looked up at her with an intimate smile. “I’m not sure how, but we’re able to communicate at times.”
She pursed her lips when she recalled hearing his voice in her head. “We’ll need to test it to see how it works.”
“Do me first.” Logan scrambled off the bed, his eyes bright with mischief.
Heat flooded her face at the innuendo, and she pursed her lips to hold back a smile. “How?”
“The same way you send us your emotions.” Camden gently nudged her shoulder with his own. “Push them towards us.”
Annora nibbled on her lip, trying to decide what to send.
“If you’re having trouble, use the tattoo to help you focus.” Mason’s earnest face peered up at her.
You’re beautiful.
Annora knew he got her message when his eyes darkened, and a blush flared across his cheeks.
Your turn.
He studied her for a minute, then his face scrunched up, making him look constipated. “It didn’t work, did it?”
Annora deflated, unable to contain her disappointment, and peered down at Mason. “I don’t understand. Why did it work before but not now?”
Mason rubbed the furrows between his brows. “The first time it happened, I was touching you.”
“So you think communication is only one-way for you guys unless we’re skin-to-skin?” Annora skated a fingernail absently against her palm, welcoming the pain. “That doesn’t make sense. We communicated both at the village and when we were underground, and we weren’t close to each other then.”
Xander, Camden, and Logan exchanged looks, then the kitsune turned toward her. “You’re the alpha, our pack grá, so you’re able to send messages at any time. The only other time I’ve been able to communicate with the alpha of my old pack was when I shifted.”
“We need to try.” Xander sat in a chair across from her. “Mason and I are out. We’re too big.”
“I’ll do it.” Camden stood and stepped into the middle of the room so he was no longer touching anyone.
The shift was subtle at first, his beast edging forward. He was lean, but muscular, not an ounce of fat on him. His skin rippled, a pattern seemingly imprinted on every inch of him. His eyes glowed a florescent green, while his hair shimmered, the lights making it completely iridescent. The scent of some wild, exotic flower teased her senses, luring her to relax and come closer.
Even before he finished shifting, his thoughts drifted to her.
I miss the taste of your lips when you’re away. I became accustomed to not touching people…then you came along and tipped my world upside down. Now I’m addicted to your kisses and yearn for the feel of you. You’ve captured my heart completely. I’m yours, always and forever.
Annora could only gape at Camden, her heart swelling, her breath catching at his words.
Camden—
“Did it work?” Logan looked back and forth between the two of them, excitement shimmering in his blue eyes.
She cleared her throat, her voice husky when she spoke. “It works.”
“So what’s the plan when we arrive?” Xander turned the conversation back to Edgar.
Annora was grateful to have a moment to gather her scattered composure. Camden switched back to his human form, resuming his spot next to her, as if he didn’t just shatter her mind with his confession.
“Sadie will be able to help us sneak into Central City.”
Her head snapped up at the mention of Sadie. Logically, Annora knew Edgar was her mate and hers alone, but she didn’t like to be reminded that he’d been betrothed before they met.
Worse…to Sadie.
She ruthlessly shoved the tendrils of jealousy deep down and focused on the plan. “Central City?”
Edgar’s sharp gaze swung toward hers. Darkness swam in his deep blue eyes, but she knew she’d failed to hide her emotions when amusement crinkled their corners. For some reason, the fucker enjoyed seeing her jealousy.
“Central City is what we call the island.” His voice was warm and gooey, his earlier anger vanished.
She would not be lulled. “And how will Sadie know to meet us?”
“She’s watching the boats coming into port.” His smile was a little more pronounced, as if he enjoyed riling her up. “Central City is hidden from the outside world. It’s basically a piece of the phantom realm on earth. Only those who know or have phantom blood can see it.”
Annora remembered spotting lights on the ocean off in the distance and wondered if that was where they were going.
Edgar sighed and pushed away from the wall. “Morning will be here in a few hours. I suggest we all get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
Logan crawled back into bed, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her down with him, cuddling her close before blowing a raspberry at the back of her neck. Camden and Xander stood, switching spots so Camden took the seat while Xander stretched out next to her, his weight causing her to roll against him until she was wedged between the guys on the bed.
Instead of being uncomfortably squashed between them, she was finally able to relax. Their touch soothed her unease, taking away the anxiety that seemed to become a permanent part of her when they weren’t nearby.
Being with them was different.
With them, she was home.
Mason shifted and grunted until he was stretched out along the floor…as much as he could anyway. Edgar sat in the other chair next to Camden, then reached out and dimmed the lights.
Annora wasn’t aware of falling asleep until the gentle rolling of the ship beneath her pulled her awake. She bolted upright with a gasp and found herself alone on the bed. A quick glance showed she had the room to herself. When she went to crawl out of bed, she spotted a small package waiting for her and froze.
A present?
She scanned the room, expecting to find one of the guys, but she was alone.
She reached over and poked at the gift, then jerked back, half-expecting it to be booby-trapped or something.
Nothing happened.
She glanced around once more, but nothing had changed. She sat cross-legged on the bed and stared at the package for another full minute before curiosity got the better of her. She gingerly picked up the brown paper package, placing it on her lap, almost giddy as she carefully peeled back the wrapping.
And discovered a set of long daggers nestled inside.
She couldn’t move as she gaped at the beautifully carved weapons. The blades were pure black and gleamed with darkness that she recognized from the afterworld. The handles were sculpted in silver, and her fingers itched to hold them.
She reached out a shaky hand, almost afraid to touch them.
It was only then that she realized this was what Edgar had asked Camden to pick up for him when they were at the tavern. Warmth expanded through her chest, and she ran her finger
across her bottom lip, before slowly reaching out and tracing her fingers down one of the blades—and felt the afterworld tugging at her fingertips.
She picked up one of the daggers, amazed by the weight and balance…almost like it had been created just for her. She carefully set the blade back on the bed and scrambled off. She wanted to refuse the gift—they were much too expensive—but the urge to keep them was something fierce.
She’d received two presents from the guys now—her very first presents—and she couldn’t help but smile that they were both knives.
She headed toward the door to confront Edgar, uncertain of the etiquette when refusing a gift. But before she could grab the doorknob, she halted, unwilling to leave them behind, already feeling possessive of them.
She raced back, snatched them up and hurried toward the door, flinging it open just as the ship dipped, and she nearly ran over Edgar. She bumped into his chest, sending him crashing against the far wall and landing on top of him with an oomph.
His arms wrapped around her, and he gazed down at her with a half grin. When he noticed the daggers, his face softened. “I see you found my gift.”
Annora glanced down at them, tracing her finger along the metal, suddenly knowing she could never return them. “Why?”
He nudged her chin up, amusement gone from his expression. “I want you to be protected. While you have a natural affinity for dark matter, so do phantoms. These daggers have been be linked specifically to you. Think of them as a last line of defense.”
Annora pulled away from him slightly. “You’re expecting trouble.”
“I always expect trouble. I don’t trust Daxion or the council. Keep the daggers hidden, and don’t use them unless you absolutely have no choice.” He smoothed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Most phantoms aren’t adept at using weapons, much less afford them. Blades like these are awarded to only the most talented members of the family, and only for special occasions.”
“Awarded?”
“Enchanted blades can take years to forge and can lose or gain power depending on the skills of the owner. They’re usually purchased by the head of the house and given to those who have earned the right to own a set, such as warriors who have proven themselves in battle.” He ran a finger along her jaw and lifted her chin. “You are my family, and I don’t know anyone more worthy than you. Do you accept?”
Instead of answering, Annora rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. At the contact, he sank his fingers into her hair and pulled her close with a groan of white-hot desire. He didn’t try to be gentle, and she didn’t want it.
She was crushed to his chest, her back pressed against the wall. She cursed that her hands were full, aching to touch him in return.
But Edgar eased back, breathing heavily, and she bit back her protest. Now wasn’t the time. Still, the spicy scent of him was subtle but addicting, and she nuzzled his chest.
He kissed the top of her head, then stepped back, and she gazed up at him, studying the sharp angles of his face, his skin pale, as though he’d spent too many years in the afterworld. His eyes were dark, weathered by the hardships he’d endured, his nose long and straight, his lips generous if a bit hard, his jaw strong but stubborn…and she loved every inch of him.
The boat bucked, the world dropping out from under her feet, much like what she felt when he gazed at her with such hunger. He caught her close, and she marveled at the warmth spreading through her. She never knew her heart could ache with happiness. All the pain, all the suffering, were worth it.
The guys were precious to her, the only good things in a world of darkness.
Without them, she would be lost.
She pressed her hand over his chest, opening up the connection between them and showing him what she couldn’t put into words. “Thank you.”
Her thanks were for so much more than the knives. They were for entering her life and giving her hope when she had none. For making her cling to life when she was pushed beyond endurance. He kept her alive until she was strong enough to fight her way free, until she could find her family and make them her home.
He stilled, not even his chest moving, his eyes shading completely black, then he picked her up by the waist and claimed her lips for in a ravenous kiss. Annora wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck, and tried to keep up with him. He tore his mouth away and pressed his forehead against hers, cradling her against him, his hands gripping her hips hard to keep them from wandering. “Your timing sucks. We should be on the island in twenty minutes.”
He lowered her to the floor, then grabbed her chin with a firm, almost brutal grip. “You will not put yourself in danger or take any unnecessary risks. Do whatever you have to do to survive and come back to me.” He gave her a slight shake. “Understand?”
“Yes.” She nodded, feeling his desperation as if it was her own.
He crushed her to his chest, squeezing the air out of her lungs, a tremor going through him. “I can’t lose you now. I wouldn’t survive.”
Things were going to get bad, and she didn’t like the idea of him going back to the people who left him to die in the banished land. She dreaded how they might treat him when he showed up again with her in tow.
“We stay together, no matter what. No unnecessary risks for any of us.” Annora pushed him away, releasing a shaky breath to steady her nerves, then held out her weapons and gave him a brave smile. “Now show me how these things work.”
He rubbed his brow as if collecting his thoughts, a rare show of emotions that he normally kept bottled up tight. It steadied her to know he was just as rattled as her, but she was sure that together, they could survive anything.
He grabbed her wrists, lifting until the blades were between them. “All it takes is a drop of your blood to activate them, and they’ll come when you call.”
Annora spun the blades, offering him the handles. “What do you need me to do?”
He hesitated, then took one of them, and she willingly held out her hand. “These blades are sharper than anything known to man, so you have to be extra-careful.”
She pressed her lips together to stifle her smile, his nervous babble calming her like nothing else could have done. He tightened his grip on her wrist to hold her steady, and held the tip of the blade over her index finger. The knife wavered for a second, and he flexed his shoulders, firming his grip. “Ready?”
He was almost more nervous than her.
He didn’t wait for a reply, but simply pressed the tip just hard enough until a bead of blood formed. The edge was so sharp that she didn’t even feel the cut. At the taste of her blood, the blade shimmered for a second, then the metal seemed to absorb the drop.
He lifted her hand and squeezed the tip of her finger until another single drop of blood welled and splashed down on the second blade, christening both daggers. Even as the metal glistened, Edgar popped the tip of her finger in his mouth and sucked on it lightly.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she could do nothing but watch, entranced, as he lapped at her finger. Her body heated, her nipples hardening, and she craved more. His tongue made another pass, making her shiver, and when he pulled her hand away from his mouth, she nearly whimpered at the loss.
He spun the blade until the hilt was toward her, a blush coloring his cheeks. “That should help stop the bleeding.”
“Huh?” She stared at him blankly, her attention on his lips, and he let out a huff of laughter.
“Let’s test the blades to make sure they work.” He turned his hand over and the dagger plummeted to the ground. With a twitch of his fingers, the afterworld ripped open and the blade vanished in a puff of dark smoke.
Annora swiped her hand through the air in that spot, her fingertips prickling like she ran it over a brush. She was tempted to reach her hand inside the afterworld, but held back. “Can I follow the trail?”
Edgar grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. “I want to say no, but if you can feel the scattered particl
es, it might be possible. Some phantoms can track, but it’s a rare talent. It can be dangerous too, if the tracker doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
He released her slowly, his fingers trailing along the inside of her wrist. “Call the knife to you.”
She frowned up at him, not having a clue how to do what he asked. “How?”
“The same way you can sense the grimoire or Prem.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “It’s a part of you.”
Well, that didn’t make it any clearer.
When she went to step into the afterworld, Edgar shook his head. “That requires time you might not always have. Don’t search for it. Call it to you.”
Annora scowled, but knew he was correct. A couple of seconds could be the difference between life or death, and she couldn’t take that chance. Edgar had told her she controlled the afterworld, that if she wanted something badly enough, it would obey.
She held out her hand and pictured the dagger in her mind. Darkness twirled eagerly between her fingers, then gathered in her palm, the mass swirling wildly. It thickened until a heavy weight settled on her palm. Her fingers closed around the warm metal, and she’d swear it gave a hum of approval.
Her eyes popped open, and she couldn’t hold back her grin. “I did it!”
Edgar grunted, but there was a slight curl to his lips that betrayed his pleasure. “Now you need to practice. Do it again and again until it becomes second nature. Instinct.”
He held out his arm straight from his body, his sword seeming to appear out of thin air. Even as he lowered his arm, the metal dissolved into smoke and dissipated like a wisp of steam off a lake.
“Show-off,” she grumbled under her breath.
“Annora—”
“Thank you, Edgar.” She vanished the weapons. “I will treasure them.”
“You’re welcome.” He straightened and ran a hand down his buttoned shirt, giving her a distracted nod. “The rest of the guys are waiting topside for us.”
“I’m going to run to the bathroom first. I’ll meet you on the deck.” She peered down the hallway, then glanced back at him, biting her lip. “Please tell me they have a functional bathroom and not a pot?” She had quickly become accustomed to modern amenities
Ransomed to the World Page 19
