Ransomed to the World

by Stacey Brutger

  While Valen believed she saved Edgar, he was wrong. It was the other way around.

  “I did what I could, protected you when you were balanced between life and death, but being a bridge gives you powers that are beyond me. No one saved you from death but you. You held on because you’re as stubborn as your mother. You fed from the afterworld enough to heal your mortal wounds.”

  Tears glistened in Valen’s eyes. “There were many times when I wanted to plead with you to just let go, so you could join us here in the banished lands where I could keep you safe, but I knew it wasn’t your path. You were born for a reason. The phantom realm needs you.”

  Annora resisted the urge to growl, not interested in any airy-fairy philosophical debate about fate. She wasn’t sure she believed in it anymore. She’d clawed out her own existence, and she refused to be guilted into giving up that hard-won freedom now—not when she was so close to getting everything she ever dreamed of.

  She was on borrowed time and needed to get back to the guys, already uneasy about being cut off from them again so soon. She could still feel her connection to them, but it was muted.

  And she kept it that way. The last thing she wanted was for them to feel her erratic emotions and charge to her rescue.

  So she focused on what she needed to do to survive her next encounter with Daxion. “Explain to me about reapers. Why is Daxion so desperate to become a bridge? It really has nothing to do with his wife, does it?”

  Valen’s lips tightened, as if debating what to tell her, and she glared at him. “The truth. No more lies. You owe me that much at least.”

  “Fine.” He gave a defeated sigh. “But not here. We need to get off the streets.”

  Annora nodded, relieved to be gone, wary of the hunger that crouched in the shadows just beyond them. When he gestured to the others, they took lead, and she’d swear she recognized one of the guys who’d dragged Flora away. When he gave her a slight bow, she knew she was right.

  She fell into step next to Valen. “Being a bridge allows me to see reapers, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded. “Reapers can’t take physical form in the real world…at least not on their own. They need a door or a bridge opened.”

  Things clicked into place. “When I merged the two worlds—”

  “You created a doorway that allowed creatures into the human realm.” His expression was grim. “Which is very dangerous. Not all creatures that roam here are reapers—many of the others are ravenous beasts would rain destruction down on the humans if given a chance.”

  “How are reapers different?” All Annora could remember from the old human stories and myths was that reapers were the bringers of death.

  “When phantoms die, we’re sent to the banished lands and hunted down, just like any other creature—with one exception. We have the ability to fight back and use dark matter to send those souls to the beyond. Those who survive are selected to become reapers. It has nothing to do with bloodlines or power. It’s a duty we take upon ourselves to keep the realms in balance.”

  “It’s a natural progression for phantoms?” Annora wasn’t sure what to believe.

  “It used to be.” He rubbed his jaw, looking even more haggard. “Now there are just too many souls in the dead zone, since fewer and fewer phantoms survive. We’re trying to cull the souls and send troops in when a new phantom arrives, but we rarely arrive in time.”

  Horror cut Annora down to her soul, the screams of phantoms being torn apart ringing in her ears.

  “Reapers keep things in balance, our connection to dark matter making us the perfect candidates, but we’re dying out. Once we’re gone, there will be nothing to hold them back.” They changed directions, leading her toward the fringes of the island. Annora was surprised to see other reapers pass them, chatting and talking in groups like they were normal people.

  “Why are reapers so important to Daxion?” Why was he so intent on gaining to get access to the afterworld?

  “Reapers aren’t good or evil, Annora. It’s just a job. When supernaturals die, their powers have to go someplace.”

  “The afterworld.” That explained why so much power was concentrated around them. She reached out to touch the building when Valen grabbed her elbow and pulled her away.

  “Careful,” he warned. “Even something as simple as a building can be dangerous to the unwary.” He poked the wall, jerking back quickly when the darkness rippled and it looked like thousands of spiders spilled out, swarming across the surface in search of what disturbed it.

  Valen guided her away “Magic can be toxic to humans who don’t have the ability to regulate it. Reapers can sense death. It’s a sharp burst of magic released when supernatural creatures die, and we are sent out to retrieve the lost soul before they can wreak havoc on those left behind.”

  They came to a street that was bustling with people, and Annora suddenly felt very conspicuous in her casual clothing. Watching the others, she focused on her outfit. Darkness wrapped around her, stretching and pulling, then condensing until she was wrapped in a cloak similar to the ones her uncle and his team were wearing.

  Valen watched her with a small smile, pride shining in his eyes. “You’re getting better.”

  “I don’t even know half of what I’m capable of doing. I’m stumbling around in the dark, landing in even more trouble every time I try to figure it out.” Annora brushed away the compliment, asking the one question that had been bothering her. “Why did you never tell the other phantoms what was happening to me?”

  Why did he leave her in that hellhole to suffer alone?

  “Daxion.” His voice was grim, and he turned away, leading her down the street. “Your father would’ve come after you the moment he learned of your existence. On the other hand, if I’d told him earlier, you would never have met your mates. Do you honestly think he’ll allow you to keep your freedom? That your mates won’t find themselves at the center of numerous accidents until they die?”

  Her gut clenched in dread at the thought of her mates being at Daxion’s mercy.

  And she left them alone in Daxion’s house.

  She needed to hurry.

  “Did I make a mistake?” Valen glanced at her over his shoulder, his expression tortured.

  “No.” As much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn’t change anything.

  He gave a sharp nod, relief wiping years off his face. “I wanted to be a part of your life, but the afterworld is a place of death. It isn’t for the living, especially for a young woman.”

  The three reapers ahead of them entered a small tavern. Valen paused at the entrance and turned to look at her. “You need to go back. You might be a bridge, but it’s not healthy for you to remain here too long. The creatures that linger at the edges of the dead zone can sense your presence…they know you’re the key to getting out of this prison. Trust me when I say that they’ll come after you, and soon.”

  “Those creatures...what are they?” Edgar had warned her about them, but she’d never seen any.

  “Not all souls are ready for the afterlife. They linger here. We call them lost souls—people tormented by life, or those who have turned vengeful when they felt their life was cut too short. They’ll eventually start to fade, but a few refuse to move on to the next stages of their lives, and they don’t have the ability to use dark matter. So when they feed on the magic here, they become tainted. Instead of becoming reapers, they turn into monsters.”

  Annora scanned the darkness, wondering how many of them were already watching her. “Are they all evil?” She couldn’t sense them anymore, and that made her nervous.

  “Of course not, but the longer they remain, the more they forget themselves. Their life in the human realm fades pretty quickly, and all they are left with is a never-ending hunger for the living.” Valen opened the door to the tavern, then guided her to a table at the back of the room where they were hidden by shadows. “That’s why you can’t remain here.”

  The babble of voices was reass
uring, and she was surprised to see reapers acting so normal.

  Valen leaned down and whispered to her. “Most reapers considered this our next stage of evolution. We don’t miss our old life as we have a new purpose now, but some habits are hard to break. While we don’t need to eat and drink the same way, it’s a favorite pastime that brings them comfort.”

  As she settled in her seat, Prem leapt onto her lap and gave a nervous chitter, peeking over the tabletop to study the packed room.

  That’s when Annora sensed it too.

  Danger thickened the air.

  Something was coming.

  Valen took a seat across from her, blocking out the rest of the room. “I’m not sure what being exposed to unlimited amounts of dark matter will do to you. You crossed over too often as a child and have adapted to it. It’s already in your blood and bones. If it continues, it could turn you into a full living reaper, and I’m not sure where that would leave your mates.”

  Fear skittered down her spine at the thought of being lost to them. “War is coming to the phantoms. Both sides believe I’m the key to winning it.”

  “You are.” Valen glanced up and accepted a drink one of the reapers placed in front of them. “Phantoms and reapers are connected, just different sides of the same coin. We’re created to protect the world, both the living and the dead. In the past few centuries, phantoms have begun retreating from the human realm, isolating themselves. Few remember the old ways anymore, where reapers and phantoms used to work together to keep the peace. The rebellion needs to happen. The council has become too corrupt and needs to fall.”

  Annora pushed away the drink, not sure she should risk consuming anything from this world, uncertain what it would do to her. “Daxion wants me to kill his wife, but maybe we can form an alliance and figure out a way to stop him.”

  Valen reeled back, holding out his hands, palms out. “Livia is at best a little unstable. She’s been driven by rage ever since Daxion had her murdered, and she’s used that wrath to quickly become a general here. She can’t be trusted.”

  “Valen…you flatter me.” A woman appeared behind him, resting one of her hands on his shoulder, and he blanched. Then her imperial gaze came to rest on Annora, her interest sharpening. “An alliance…go on. I’m listening.”

  Darkness clung to her like a second skin, but instead of binding to it like Annora, she held it chained to her by her will alone. It was hungry, barely leashed. The woman was a true grim reaper, the kind that haunted the humans’ nightmares.

  The danger Annora sensed when they entered the tavern emanated from this reaper.

  It wasn’t necessarily evil, but it was potent and deadly.

  Livia didn’t wait to be invited, simply grabbing a chair from another table and pulling it up to theirs. The rest of the tavern was now watching them in wary silence.

  The woman was nothing short of stunning. Her hair was straight and long, hanging past her shoulders like a black curtain. Her skin was porcelain, her features delicate, but the cunning in her eyes belied her fragile appearance.

  She was a lion in sheep’s clothing, and she craved blood.

  Annora didn’t glance at Valen, sensing she’d lose the woman’s respect if she deferred to him. And she immediately ruled out lying. This woman would skin her alive if she tried it. “Daxion wants me to kill you to sever the connection between you. He wants your abilities.”

  Livia threw back her head and laughed, the sultry sound completely unrestrained. Amusement danced in her eyes as she gazed at her, no doubt just seeing a little girl. “He’s told you nothing about our marriage.”

  Annora didn’t like the change of subject but answered honestly. “Absolutely nothing.”

  “I was born into a powerful bloodline and easily rose to the top of my class. Much like other phantom girls in the same position, I was sold for breeding. Our houses were the last to create a bridge, and Daxion thought together, he and I could create another.” Livia gave her a bitter smile. “Unfortunately, I never conceived.”

  “Then he met my mother,” Annora muttered, the missing pieces falling into place.

  “And a new plan was hatched,” Livia said with a rueful grin. “I was useless to him as a phantom, a drain on his power. Getting rid of me was like killing two birds with one stone. As a reaper, I was everything he ever wanted. Only it backfired when the wards between worlds failed to let him take my powers. The only way he can access my powers is by coming here and taking it himself.”

  Annora grimaced. “And so he sent me to do his dirty work.”

  Livia looked her up and down appraisingly, completely confident that she would come out on top. “I’m stronger now. Faster. If it came to a fight, he wouldn’t win. You think you can take me?”

  “Yes.” Annora didn’t laugh, didn’t flinch, and didn’t hesitate. She didn’t have a choice. She’d do whatever it took to protect her mates…even if it killed her. “But I think we can come to an understanding instead. Daxion wants to screw us both, and he needs to be stopped. I think you’re one of the few who are capable of dealing with him.”

  Humor drained from her expression, and she pursed her lips, studying Annora with a calculating look. “Not you?”

  “Honestly?” Annora pushed Prem down when the critter tried to peek over the table and hiss. “I really don’t give a shit about Daxion or his power. If he died, he’d just return as a reaper and cause more trouble. To really stop him, we need to cut off his power base. The rebellion has a chance, but they’re not guaranteed to win the war…” She cocked her head to the side. “However, an alliance with the reapers who can keep the phantoms in check could succeed. The balance needs to be restored before both the phantoms and reapers become extinct.”

  Valen relaxed, giving her a nod of approval, no longer looking like he was ready to leap over the table and yank her out of there.

  He honestly expected them to come to blows…or worse.

  Livia gave a contemplative hum, her eyes unfocused as she sprawled back in her seat. “Daxion had such high hopes when you were conceived. He wanted to mold and groom you into his perfect weapon.” She picked up her mug, took a sip, then set it back down. A twinkle of mirth danced in her dark eyes when she leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “You were going to be his golden ticket. It tickles me that you’ve ended up being such a thorn in his paw. He won’t be able to brainwash you like he has the others.”

  Feeling very much like a mouse being batted around by a cat, Annora narrowed her eyes. “Cut the drama. You both need to finish the shit you started and leave me out of it. Better yet, leave me out of your marriage of inconvenience altogether.”

  Livia lifted an imperious brow, but the corners of her lips twitched. “What do you have planned, little one?”

  Annora pulled the coin her mother created out from under her collar and held it out. “What if I could make that temporary bridge my father so desires and give it to you instead? A dozen or so medallions, capable of transporting reapers into the human realm for a limited amount of time?”

  Annora rose, then planted her hands on the table and leaned forward until the coin dangled between them. “Would you and the others be able to keep the phantoms in check? I want to reset things back to the way they belong, where we go back to helping the paranormal community survive.”

  Any amusement in Livia’s eyes vanished, her gaze locked on the coin, both yearning and determination hardening her features. Then her gaze flicked up to meet Annora’s stare. “That will only happen if the council agrees to it, and none of those pansy-asses will come within reaching distance of a reaper. They treat us like lepers.”

  “Let me worry about that.” Come hell or high water, Annora would tie the assholes to a chair if that’s what it took to make them listen.

  Livia’s smile sharpened, and she leaned forward again, her crossed arms resting on the table. “What do you need from me?”

  “Just wait for my signal…and be ready.”

&nbs
p; Chapter Twenty-seven

  Annora stormed out of the tavern, the need to get back to the guys a compulsion she couldn’t ignore any longer.

  Something was wrong.

  Prem scampered ahead of her, poking at the shadows and clearing the way.

  “Annora, wait!” Valen followed her into the streets, looking harried as he caught up with her, his cloak swirling around him in his haste. “You’re playing a very dangerous game pitting the two of them off each other.”

  “You don’t think it’ll work?” She studied him, but didn’t slow her pace. Honestly, she was just glad to get out of there without having to kill anyone. That she had a tentative agreement to her spur-of-the-moment alliance was beyond her wildest expectations.

  “It actually might be the only thing that does, but that doesn’t mean it’s without risk.” Valen flashed her a half-smile, falling into step next beside her, then his shoulders drooped. “Watch your back. They’re both cunning vipers, and whether you want to be or not, you are in the middle of it. Don’t let either of them pull you down with them.”

  Annora spotted Prem peeking around a corner, beckoning her, and she didn’t hesitate to follow. The alley was empty, and she scooped the ferret up, giving him a pat of thanks before boosting him up to her shoulder.

  She didn’t want others to see her vanish. She wanted to keep her secret about being a bridge, and her anonymity, for as long as possible, though she suspected she only had a few hours before the truth became common knowledge and her life blew up in her face again.

  “I have to get back or Daxion will notice I’m gone. The claiming ceremony is tonight.” She stopped in the middle of the alley and turned toward her uncle, offering Valen a small smile. “I know being related to me isn’t easy. I’m sorry—”

  “I’m not.” Valen gave her a rueful smile. “I was destined to die young. With Daxion as my brother, it was inevitable. I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you or your mother more.”

  He pulled her close, hugging her to his chest, and Annora froze at the strange sensation. Prem patted her reassuringly, and she tentatively reached out and hugged Valen back.