Ransomed to the World

by Stacey Brutger

  He cracked a grin, then pointed down the hall. “Around the corner, the last door.”

  She flashed him a smile and hurried away, relieved when she opened the bathroom door and saw running water. She’d spent too many years peeing into a pot to ever want to go back.

  She entered and closed the door behind her, her lungs seizing at the tiny space. She avoided the mirror and hurried through the task. The boat dipped and swayed more, tossing her around the small room, her anxiety to get back to the others increasing. Every second she was locked away made the room feel more like a prison.

  She scratched at the latch to the door, all but falling out of the bathroom in her need to escape.

  And nearly ran over the stranger standing in the hallway.

  Strong hands gripped her shoulders, holding her steady when the ship bucked. Her skin crawled at having a stranger touch her, his hold unbreakable, and images flashed in her mind of her uncle as he dragged her back to her cell for one of his punishments. No matter how much she kicked and fought, she couldn’t break free.

  It was only when the stranger released her and backed away, his hands raised in the air, that she recognized the captain. He looked a lot younger up close, maybe a few years older than her. Being out at the sea had weathered him a little, his tan complexion making him even more handsome, giving him a pirate look that most women found sexy. Though he had broad shoulders and lean hips, he was a bit rough around the edges.

  “Are you okay?” He studied at her cautiously, and it took her a moment to realize she’d unconsciously called her blades to her. They were warm in her grip, the metal shimmering with so much dark matter that she could almost see it move over the metal.

  She released the daggers, blowing out a breath when they vanished, and gave him a brittle smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  But when she tried to edge around him, he mimicked her and blocked the narrow passageway. Annora immediately backed up and thudded against the bathroom door behind her. The darkness stirred inside her, and she struggled to keep it contained.

  He was the captain.

  He wasn’t a threat.

  She repeated the phrase over and over, but she couldn’t quite make herself believe it. “What do you want?”

  The captain kept his hands raised, not making any threatening moves. “We’ll be reaching Central City in a few minutes. I want to urge you to remain on board. That place isn’t healthy for a girl like you.”

  Confusion replaced the visceral fear churning in her gut, and her heartbeat gradually slowed to almost normal. She curled her hands into fists, the bite of her nails in her palms helping to keep her mind from tumbling back into the nightmare of her past. “What do you mean?”

  “Once you enter the city, they’ll never allow you to leave again. They’ll mark you like they do all the others.” His voice roughened in revulsion, and it made her hesitate.

  “What others?” She stepped away from the door, her thirst for more information about her heritage piquing her interest. She’d always believed she was alone…or that’s what they wanted her to believe.

  “Fuck, did they tell you nothing?” He ran an agitated hand over his head, tangling his long hair. “They hunt down any offspring of witches and phantoms…or anyone they suspect that can control magic.”

  She scowled, disliking the way he implied her team was keeping things from her. “They told me all that they know, which was very little. Phantoms eliminate any threat to their existence by sending people like me to the banished land.”

  “That’s only partially true.” The captain grimaced, but before he had a chance to tell her more, Edgar materialized behind him.

  “Annora, run!” He didn’t give her a chance to explain before he threw himself at the captain and tackled him to the floor.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Edgar! Stop!”

  Neither man responded, both of them beyond hearing, hatred driving them. They grappled, trading vicious blows, and it became obvious that the captain was as highly trained as Edgar.

  Annora tried to inch closer, but ended up taking a blow to her thigh that threatened to break her bone.

  She clutched her leg and glared at them, but the assholes were too busy beating the shit out of each other to notice.

  And they weren’t going to stop.

  She was tempted to drop them into the afterworld, but she wasn’t sure what would happen if she did it over open water, not to mention that she didn’t want to attract any more attention. If she wanted to keep her men safe, she had to stick to the plan, and they wouldn’t be able to do that if she made the entire ship disappear.

  Mason—I need your help. I’m outside the bathroom by our room.

  The boards above her shook when Mason launched into action, and a stampede of feet followed.

  Less than a minute later, Mason and the rest of the guys showed up…with a dozen or so sailors right behind them.

  Men rushed forward, separating the two guys. Edgar had a nasty cut above his eye, and the captain had a split lip. Annora wedged herself between them, hands on her hips, and glared at Edgar. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “He had you backed up against the wall!” Edgar snarled, shaking off the hands restraining him. He glared at the captain, looking ready to go another round, until she placed a hand on his chest. His dark eyes gradually focused on her, and his countenance softened.

  He took a bracing breath, then stepped back, avoiding her gaze by tucking his shirt back in his pants, ignoring the small tears and bloodstains.

  “He was telling me about…the island.” She caught the captain’s eye and changed what she was going to say at the last second. There were too many people listening.

  She turned and tsked at the captain. “We need to get you cleaned up. Come with me.”

  She whirled to leave and the crowd parted slowly, as if they weren’t sure the fight was over.

  She strode back toward her cabin, and the guys followed her just a step behind, none of them willing to let her out of their sight. The captain entered last, then waved off his crew when a few tried to follow him into the tiny room.

  “We’ll be docking in a few minutes,” he told them. “Stop lollygagging and get the ship ready.” Without giving them a chance to protest, he slammed the door in their faces.

  He turned toward her, his hand on his jaw as he wiggled it back and forth, giving Edgar a respectful nod. “Not bad.”

  Edgar crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed. “What were you really discussing?”

  “The truth. She deserves to know the truth before you throw her to the wolves.” The captain watched without flinching when Edgar lunged at him. Mason thrust out his arm, his hand landing on Edgar’s chest with enough force to stop the phantom dead.

  Mason studied the captain, his eyebrows raised. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

  The captain ignored the others and turned to her. “Phantoms have discovered that the offspring of witches and phantoms generally have an ability to use magic that surpasses even the purebloods, and they don’t like it. They want that power for themselves. So they collect us half-breeds and study us. And most don’t survive their exams. Those who do are marked, their powers bound, and monitored for the rest of their lives to make sure they don’t step out of line.”

  Annora recoiled, trembling at the idea of being locked away again, the urge to run making her twitch.

  “No they don’t.” Edgar snorted in disgust. “The council—”

  “It’s easy to find out if he’s telling the truth.” She turned toward the captain with a quiet sigh of relief that the guys seemed oblivious to what she and the captain were discussing. “What mark?”

  A muscle jumped along the captain’s jaw, but then he pulled down his shirt collar, revealing a symbol seared into his flesh right under his collarbone. She leaned closer, but before she could get a closer look, he released his shirt, and she reluctantly pulled back.

  Silence reigned behind her. It
wasn’t that the guys didn’t have questions, but they knew they wouldn’t get any answers and were allowing her to take the lead. “Why would they do this?”

  “Most families won’t claim offspring born outside of phantoms. Some are too ashamed, while others just don’t care what happens to those children. A few will have them tested, brand them to prevent them from using anything but minor magic, and then sell them off.” He crossed his arms. “Some phantoms are so weak that no one else wants them, so they create their own families and their own happiness. A few try to mate with witches in hopes that one of their offspring will prove strong enough to earn them a few privileges.”

  Annora was appalled. “So they breed them.”

  He only nodded, his expression severe. “You can’t let them know your true power or they’ll do the same to you as they do the rest of us. They’ll drain and brand you too. Stay on the ship. Don’t get off.”

  Annora swallowed hard, feeling the doors of a cage close around her. Did her father really need her help to find and kill his mate, or did he want her for another reason? Knowing Daxion, he planned to use her for both.

  Unless she could beat him at his own game.

  She grimaced. “I don’t have a choice. If I don’t do the assigned task, they plan to hunt down my mates. If I can get my father to publicly claim me, they’ll be safe. I have to at least try.”

  “Fuck,” the captain muttered under his breath and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Why warn her?” Logan was leaning against the wall, never once looking away from the captain, clearly not trusting the man.

  Annora could only imagine what the phantoms would do to the captain if they learned of it. “You risk everything for me. Why?”

  He snorted, flashing her a half-smile that held no amusement. “Not all phantoms agree with the council. We’re trying to change things, but we need people who can stand up to them.”

  People who had power.

  People like her.

  Shit.

  How did her life get so complicated? She used to spend endless hours trapped underground with nothing to worry about but her next beating and whether they would remember to feed her that day. Now others were relying on her to keep them safe, including her pack.

  “How do you know I won’t turn you over to them to save myself?” Why would the captain trust her with this information?

  “Because they won’t spare you.” His green eyes hardened. “They won’t spare anyone. They already took away my abilities to use magic—they now consider me neutered and powerless.”

  “Fuck,” Camden muttered and glanced at Edgar. “Could he be telling the truth?”

  Edgar glared at the captain, then turned toward her, concern darkening his eyes. “It’s…possible. I’ve been gone a long time, and I’m not privy to the council’s activities.”

  “Then it means we have to be even more careful and make sure her father doesn’t catch us until it’s too late.” Camden turned to the captain. “Are you willing to help us sneak her onto the island?”

  The captain cast her a speculative look, then nodded, a twinkle brightening his green eyes. “I may even have someone who should be able to help you once you’re on land again.”

  Annora waited for the others to argue, but no one protested. She walked over to Edgar, grabbed his chin and turned his face from side to side, inspecting his injuries. Only they were already gone, his skin once again unblemished. She shook her head at the way he threw himself into danger. “You could’ve just asked if I was okay.”

  “And he could’ve harmed or even killed you before I could get to you.” He nudged his finger under her chin. “I couldn’t take the chance.”

  She couldn’t argue with him, since she would’ve done exactly the same thing. If he’d been threatened, she would’ve done much worse than just throw a punch.

  The guys went over the plan in detail. It was fairly simple—avoid the patrols and stay off the radar until she could make it to the council and force Daxion to claim her.

  The captain dabbed at his lip, and she reached for his arm. “Why haven’t you healed?”

  Conversation slowed. Xander and Camden began packing up their supplies while the others didn’t try to hide the fact they were watching.

  The captain grimaced and tapped his shoulder. “The mark blocks most of the magic. I’ll heal faster than a human, but the rest is pretty limited.”

  Annora squeezed the captain’s arm. “Let me. It’s the least I can do.”

  Logan snagged her elbow, pulling her closer to him. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s my fault he was hurt in the first place.” For some reason, it was important to her that she make this right. She glanced over at the others. “I just want to fix him.”

  “You’re not the first woman who’s ever said that to me.” The captain flashed her a smile, tiny crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “You’re more than welcome to try, but the mark doesn’t allow any magic in or out.”

  Annora squeezed Logan’s hand, then stepped away. She held out her arm and wisps of dark smoke began to swirl in her palm. Humor fell away from the captain’s expression, replaced by shock that the dark magic so eagerly did her bidding. He reached out almost hesitantly, yearning turning his green eyes dark.

  “I swear that I can feel it.” Longing roughened his voice as his hand hovered over the dark, swirling wisps.

  “Touch,” Annora urged him. She didn’t wait for him to obey, but lifted her hand to her lips and blew the dark particles at his face.

  He gasped, the particles moving like mercury against his skin, entering his eyes, nose, and mouth. She watched as his lip slowly stitched together, leaving a faint scar for a heartbeat, and then that, too, was gone.

  “Fuck!” He clutched his shoulder, dropping heavily to his knee with a loud grunt. “It burns.”

  “Shit.” Annora tried to draw it back, but the dark magic was already fading from his system. She wanted to reach for him but was afraid she’d end up hurting him worse. “I’m so sorry!”

  Captain lifted his head, and she recoiled. His green eyes had gone completely black, emotions making them look liquid. Instead of speaking, he stood and ripped the shirt over his head, looking down at his chest, running his hand down his shoulder.

  His smooth shoulder.

  “It’s gone.” The words were gruff, his expression full of awe, then he lifted his head to stare at her. “Who the hell are you?”

  Edgar pulled her away, his shoulder blocking her from view, and she cowered behind him gratefully, not sure she liked the captain’s speculative look.

  “You can’t tell anyone.” Edgar got right in the captain’s face, his voice low and menacing. “If anyone discovers the truth, she’ll be in even more danger.”

  “She can heal others!” the captain shouted back, pushing himself forward like he would try to snatch her away from her mates. “She can give them back what was stolen from them. They deserve—”

  “And if they catch her, they’ll kill her,” Edgar roared. He turned and grabbed her arm, then began to drag her toward the door, and she stumbled trying to keep up.

  The captain grabbed the knob before they could reach it. “She’s too valuable. They’d—”

  “They’d imprison me again.” Annora spoke through numb lips. She tried her best to maintain control as her fear took root, but it slipped through her grasp like smoke. Darkness swirled up from her bones, panic clawing at her insides, and her world shattered around her as she realized this had probably been Daxion’s plan all along.

  Mason watched the wooden walls and floor begin to warp and creak. Tiny bugs like gnats fluttered down around his head, as if seeking prey. As the wood slowly crumbled, sawdust trickled down like rain. And the floor was different, green sludge bubbling up until it began to resemble a swamp, what was left of the wood buckling slightly under his weight.

  As the room continued to deteriorate, his fear that Annora would be snatched away from him
clawed at his insides. That damned darkness swirled around her legs like she was seconds away from stepping into her dark world and never returning.

  Unacceptable!

  Not giving a fuck if he fell through the floor, he charged toward her, determined to make her stay, even if he had to hold onto her for every day of the rest of their lives. He bumped into Edgar in his rush, wincing when he saw the smaller man fly across the room and crash into the chair with a thump.

  Then everything around them became unimportant.

  He leaned forward and cupped her face, his hair swirling wildly around him, betraying his agitation. “Princess…that’s not going to happen ever again. None of us will allow that to ever happen, do you hear me?”

  Awareness flickered to life inside her, and she stared up at him, as if desperate to believe him. The rest of the guys edged closer, offering their support with a touch or a brush of lips. When she gave a jerky nod, he picked her up and held her close, trying his best not to crush her.

  She’d survived so much in her life that he forgot sometimes how small she actually was until she was in his arms. She was so light it took no effort to carry her, the weight of her no heavier than the blanket he usually covered himself with at night, and he couldn’t help but worry if she was eating enough.

  Her heartbeat eased back to normal, and the darkness gradually faded from the room. Only when she lifted her head did he reluctantly release her and force himself to lower her back to the floor instead of chucking the captain off the ship and sailing away with her like he really wanted.

  He’d do it without hesitation too, if he thought she’d let him get away with it.

  Her eyes flashed around the room, as if searching for escape, her posture stiff and brittle. He stepped behind her, prepared to chase her into the afterworld if she ran. Then her chin went up and her shoulders went back as her usual indomitable courage returned. She leaned against him in silent thanks, and joy suffused him.