She sensed there was a lot more to the story, but she didn’t probe further, sensing the issue was like an open wound. It explained the tension among the men. No wonder they reacted with horror when she showed up on their doorstep. “I’m sorry. I have no such ambitions. I just want to survive.”
Camden studied her for a moment, then the tension went out of his shoulders, and he shook his head. “You’re an alpha. He wasn’t.”
She turned to study him with a frown. This was the second time someone accused her of being an alpha. She didn’t have a clue what he meant. “No, thank you. I want to stay under the radar.”
For the first time, Camden cracked a smile. Before anyone else could speak, Logan interrupted, “Food’s ready.”
The guys stood as one and headed toward the cupboards, each grabbing a plate. After they passed, Annora uncurled her legs, jumped down from the countertop and stumbled. She reached out to Camden, clutching his arm to keep from pitching to the ground.
She barely had time to steady herself before he threw off her touch, his back slamming against the fridge in his rush to get away from her, horror etched on his face. The plate he held slipped from his hold to shatter on the ground between them.
“Catch her before she drops.” Camden’s shout roared in her ears.
“Don’t.” She staggered, then pushed away the arms reaching for her, shaking her head to clear it. After a few seconds, her vision focused and she slowly straightened. “What the hell was that?”
Camden opened his mouth, then closed it. “You’re….you…”
“What he’s trying to say is—how the hell are you still conscious?” Xander hovered close, as if afraid she would drop at any time. “Camden’s skin carries a heavy neurotoxin. One touch is usually enough to knock out an elephant.”
“Oh, that.” Annora crouched down to pick up the scattered pieces of Camden’s plate. “My uncle used to give me drugs to keep me compliant. You might say I’ve worked up a tolerance for them.”
No one spoke when she stood with her hands full of plate shards. She pursed her lips when they stared at her like a freak. “Where do you keep your garbage?”
Mason jumped as if she’d prodded him with a hot poker, then turned and pulled open the door under the sink. She smiled at him gratefully, dumping the shards into the trash and dusting off her hands.
She turned to find that no one had moved an inch and shrugged off their reaction. “Broom?”
Logan blinked, then shook his head and turned to a tall cupboard she hadn’t noticed next to the fridge. When she reached for the broom, he pushed away her hands. “Go eat.”
Feeling like she’d done something wrong, she took a slice of bacon and just a dash of hash browns, no longer hungry. Before she could take her seat, Mason grabbed her plate, then boldly stacked food on it before giving her a little shove toward the table. It wasn’t long before the others joined her, most of them busy staring at her as they absently ate.
“Just spit it out.”
Camden opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he changed his mind. “Like Xander said, my touch is toxic. Humans usually fall into a coma after as little contact as a brush of fingers. Shifters are tougher, but it doesn’t take long for them to succumb.”
Annora glanced up from her plate, unable to imagine how lonely a life he must lead.
Like her.
“So when you touched the guys this morning…?”
“It was only long enough to blunt their anger.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “To make sure they don’t accidently fall prey to the poison, we train together. Regular exposure to my touch helps them work up a resistance.”
Something about the way he dropped his eyes made her swallow hard. “You’ll be training me, which means you’ll need to touch me.”
Xander rapped his knuckles on the table. “No, I’ll be training you to fight, but you will need to get used to the venom in his touch. It’s the only way to prevent accidents while living in the same house.”
She glanced suspiciously at Camden, half expecting them to be pulling her leg, only to find him watching for her reaction. “How?”
His throat bobbed before he answered. “We’ll start with something simple…a touch on the back of your hand. A brush of fingers against your neck. It will only last a few seconds until you build up your immunity. The instant you feel weak or disoriented, we’ll stop.” He rubbed a hand over the bottom half of his face. “We’ll try it two or three times a day until we build up your resistance.”
When everyone turned toward her, she realized they were waiting for her to object. She just shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”
But she wished it was so easy. Just the idea of him touching her, even casually, made her heart thump heavily against her ribs. She wasn’t used to anyone touching her without the intent to inflict harm.
It would be good for her to learn that not all touch was bad, but she couldn’t help but worry…what if she was bad at it?
Camden blinked, then cleared his throat, still clearly rattled as he pulled the assignment folder toward him. “The next order of business is the case. Some kids from the university and the surrounding areas have gone missing.”
Annora relaxed when he didn’t immediately demand answers about her past. Knowing the reprieve wouldn’t last, she tucked into her food, and the rest of the guys followed. “How many?”
Xander took a swallow of an energy drink of some kind, the green sludge sticking to the glass. “We don’t know for sure. Seven have been reported, but my guess is a lot more have gone unreported, because no one knew they were missing.”
She paused in taking a bite. “Could they have just left?”
“No one leaves the pack,” Mason said, as he scraped his fork across his plate to clean up the last bit of food.
He sounded confident, but she couldn’t stifle her doubts. Some people had reasons to run. “Ever?”
All of the guys shook their head. “Pack is a place of honor and respect. No one ever leaves their pack willingly.”
She frowned at them. “Not even when they mate?”
They hesitated, and Logan spoke, giving her a pointed look. “Not usually.”
He was talking about the pack grá. “Why is pack grá so different?”
“It’s the one exception to the rule. If a group of shifters form a connection, there is no breaking it. It’s rare. While the connection strengthens the group, not having the full power of a pack behind you also makes you vulnerable. They either have a choice of building their own pack quickly or pledge their loyalty to a larger pack.”
She pushed away her plate, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of a full stomach. “The kids taken…they are different kinds of shifters?”
Xander nodded.
“So why would someone take a bunch of shifter kids when they know the power of multiple packs would be after them?” She mused out loud.
“Fight rings, black markets, pack rivals, breeding, slavery…it could be anything,” Camden sounded grim.
Annora shivered, her food turning sour in her stomach at the mention of slavery. She picked up her plate, then began collecting the others around the table, avoiding everyone’s eyes. When she turned to go into the kitchen, she nearly slammed into Mason, his big body blocking her escape. He gently plucked the dishes out of her hands, the large plates looking like tea saucers on his massive palms.
“Annora…if your uncle is after you, we need to know why so we can protect you.” Camden spoke softly from behind her, but there was an edge to it that said he wouldn’t be put off any longer. “Why do you think you’ll die if we kill him?”
A bitter laugh escaped her, and she turned to glare at him. “Because the one and only time I tried to kill him, I was dragged into the afterworld with him. The only way I could return was to bring him back with me.”
The room was silent.
“I think I found a way to unlink us. I’m stronger now, so I just need to find a way to get close to him. After t
he first time, he took precautions to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.” She pressed the ends of her nails into the fleshy part of her palm to help control the anger brewing inside her, the minor pain calming the darkness that wanted to take over.
“Precautions?” Xander’s voice was a low rumble. His teal eyes were harsh. Even as she watched, his black hair seemed to stiffen and stand on end, the white tips bristling.
Everything inside her resisted telling them what type of hell she lived. She didn’t want them to look at her differently…well, any more than they already did.
Xander slowly pushed back his chair, then stalked over to her. It took everything inside her not to back down. She had a feeling that if she ran, he would easily catch her.
He didn’t stop until he was right up in her face. Then he cupped her chin, forcing her head back until there was only him. “Tell me.”
She was on the verge of telling him to fuck off when she saw the shattered look in his eyes. Whatever had happened to him in his past, it had been horrible. “Please don’t make me.”
His teal eyes softened slightly. He reluctantly released her, his fingers trailing lightly against her face, then he stepped back. But instead of retreating, he rolled up the edges of his long-sleeved shirt, revealing strongly muscled forearms covered with a dusting of dark hair that made her mouth go dry.
Then her eyes caught on the two-inch-wide swath of twisted scar tissue wrapped around his wrists. Shackles. Her stomach churned at the horror, but before she could even form a coherent sentence, he turned his back to her, grabbed the back of his shirt, and pulled it over his head.
Silvery strips crisscrossed his back, hundreds of them, until every inch of skin was covered.
Familiar marks.
She lifted her hand, her fingers tracing the scars, unable to help herself. “Who whipped you?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, and she’d realized she’d given herself away by recognizing the scars.
“I’m a whelp my mother brought home. To punish her, my father punished me.” He yanked the shirt back over his head, then turned to face her, silently demanding her answer.
Tit for tat.
She licked her lips, then ran a tired hand down her face. Telling them her story would also reveal a weakness that they could use against her. She gazed up in his teal eyes, saw his need for justice burning in them, and she took a leap of faith. “You saw how I was able to move from one spot to the next? After trying to kill him, my uncle placed me in a new industrial cell with electrified bars. Apparently, if the voltage is high enough, I can’t pass through without being electrocuted.”
She gave him a tight smile. “After a few tries you get used to the pain, but he buried me a couple of stories underground. I can’t seem to pass through that much solid matter. I was never fast enough to escape and make it to the elevators before his minions found me and tossed me back into my cell.”
The silence in the room was deafening, and she lifted her chin. “I won’t go back to that prison. I’m stronger now. If I can get close to him and drag him into the afterworld with me, I think I should be able to finally kill him permanently. If anyone else tries to kill him first, I’ll be pulled into the afterworld with him. We’re connected somehow. The only way for me to return to this world is to heal him and return with him.”
She didn’t tell them she was terrified that whatever was waiting for her in the afterworld would eventually find her. She’d gone over the plan a thousand times, and she was willing to risk facing whatever waited for her if it meant that she would finally be free of her uncle…even if it resulted in her death.
She couldn’t live in fear anymore.
She needed to take a stand.
She’d been avoiding the afterworld, but maybe that was a mistake. While she could heal with a touch, she also knew she could kill. Maybe it was time to learn the extent of her abilities.
No one in the kitchen moved. They simply watched her, and the temptation to run scorched her mind.
She’d said too much.
She began to retreat when Camden pushed back his chair, the scrape of wood on stone ringing loud in her ears. “We’ll teach you whatever you need to know.”
The rest of the guys didn’t hesitate to agree, and the tension in her shoulders relaxed slightly. She wasn’t sure she trusted them completely, but they offered to teach her how to fight.
It was enough for now.
“What are your abilities?” While Camden might have asked the question, everyone glanced at her curiously. When she remained mute, he shrugged and warned, “We’ll find out eventually. Working and living together doesn’t leave much privacy.”
She pursed her lips, unable to refute his words.
“You can jump small distances.” Logan ran a hand over his hair and flashed her a smile, then turned and began to discuss with the others. “And she can take people with her if she chooses.”
“She can either see or sense other paranormals by using her gift,” Camden added.
Xander ran a hand along his jaw as he studied her clinically. “I’m not familiar with any such species. She could be a cross between a shifter and magical creature.”
Annora snorted while they continued to discuss her as if she wasn’t there. She wandered down the stairs toward the living room, then headed toward the wall of glass. She couldn’t take her eyes off the forest surrounding the house. She glanced over at the guys to see they were still in deep discussion, then pulled open the door.
She immediately tipped back her head, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. For some reason, the air outside almost hurt to breathe. It felt fresher, almost too strong, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the unique smells that eddied in the air.
Being outside was one of the biggest adjustments to escaping.
The air.
The sun.
The freedom.
And so freaking many people and noises.
She admired the large patio, then circled the fire pit, wandering closer to the intimidating tree line. She couldn’t afford to be afraid of anything. She couldn’t afford to be weak.
The ground was littered with leaves, twigs and needles, each step seeming to release a fresh, woodsy autumn scent she found relaxing. The towering trees blocked out the sun, leaving her to enjoy the cool air. It was the silence, the complete absence of the city background noise that stopped her dead.
When she turned to go back all she saw were trees. “Shit.”
Chapter Nine
The snap of a twig sent Annora whirling. Her best guess was she’d been gone close to an hour, much too soon for anyone to notice her missing. She wanted to try and find her way back, but she feared she’d end up heading farther into the maze of trees instead.
After a few seconds of searching her surroundings, she spotted a small face peeking at her from behind a large trunk. It looked like a fox. His face was inky black, but his eyes glowed a crystal blue. When she twisted to get a better look at him, she noticed a dark, deep crimson undercoating.
His tail seemed to wave, like it was moving from a breeze, almost hypnotic to watch. When he saw her watching, he curled it around him, and her mouth dropped open when she realized the fox had more than one. They had been moving so incredibly fast, she’d thought there was only one. They fluffed around him, puffy like a rich woman’s fancy scarf, the red seeming to shimmer, the very tips looking like they were dipped in fresh blood.
Something about the fox was achingly familiar, and she stilled when he padded closer, not wanting to scare him off. Frost seemed to swirl around him, and she gasped. “Logan?”
He promptly sat, then gave a regal nod. Behind him, she saw her two ferrets tumbling over each other as they scrambled across the forest floor. One would blink out in an explosion of black smoke and reappear a few feet later to ambush the other critter, only to have that one vanish in turn.
Her eyes widened in alarm, then she quickly focused on Logan again, hoping he didn’t notice her dist
raction. He then glanced behind her. When she turned, she saw Mason darting toward them. Instead of lumbering as she expected, he appeared to almost blend into the background. He was more of a blurred shape, there one second and gone the next, and she could easily see why people would mistake him for the legendary bigfoot.
Then he was standing before her, his chest heaving, his lavender eyes bright, his hair a snarled mess standing up around his head. His forehead was bigger, his face broader, his row of horns seemed to be more pronounced, sticking up higher than before. His upper and lower fangs were thick and long, their tips poking out of his mouth.
The fabric of his shirt strained across his torso, his pants so tight they could’ve been painted on him. He was all wild and primitive. Instead of being afraid, her pulse slowed, and she smiled up at him. “I don’t suppose you can show me the way back to the house?”
Logan trotted to her side, standing slightly in front of her, as if worried about how Mason would react. Only, Annora wasn’t afraid.
Mason cocked his head as he studied her, then his features seemed to melt down, until he resembled the man she first met. “You weren’t running?”
He seemed baffled, almost hurt, and she softened toward him. “Of course not. I don’t need to run from you. If I wanted to leave, I would just walk out the front door.”
She glanced around the trees, the shadows making her uneasy, the beauty dark and twisted. She crossed her arms, suddenly chilled. “I’ve never been around so many trees before, never been so far away from civilization. It’s not what I expected.”
She thought she’d feel free, not panicked and vulnerable.
Mason shoved his hands into his pockets. “I could show you around if you want. Teach you how to survive.”
Annora glanced around the trees suspiciously, her smile a little tight. She didn’t have the luxury of being afraid. “I’d like that.”
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