“I’ve told you that a million times.” Annora heaved a frustrated sigh but was more relieved than annoyed that he finally believed her. “Now tell me everything you know about this place so we can come and rescue you.”
Camden’s touch, or maybe just knowing he was no longer alone, seemed to finally reach Logan. He relaxed against Camden, allowing the other guy to lay him flat. As he described the fortress where her uncle planned to store her once he recaptured her, Annora rested her hand on the ragged edges of the massive wounds gouged into his torso.
She shut out their voices until they were just a murmur, focusing on doing what Camden suggested…healing Logan. Dark particles gathered under her skin and swirled into existence at her call. Without a clue what she was doing, she demanded that they stitch Logan together.
The darkness rose at her plea, swarming around her in a violent, churning mass, then slammed out of her so hard and fast that it stole her breath and left her a hollow husk. When she opened her eyes, it was to find Logan encased in a black swarm.
Camden rested back on his haunches but quickly caught her hand when she went to reach out and touch the mass. “Wait. Watch. Give his kitsune time to accept the intrusion.”
Black dust floated through the air and settled over Logan’s flesh. The darkness sparked bright for a few seconds, then rolled off his skin like dandelion fluff. The entire process took no more than a few minutes. When done, she was more than a little disappointed to notice that he seemed unchanged.
Until he sighed in relief and blinked open his electric blue eyes.
They were clear of pain for the first time in days.
The faint scent of fresh snow and heat rippled in the room, and her breath caught, the pain lodging so tight she couldn’t make her lungs work.
Logan gathered her close, his arms feeling so real a sob escaped her.
“I’m fine.” His arms tightened around her, belying his words, and she’d swear she could hear the silent swoosh of falling snow. At her watery laugh, he amended his statement. “While I might look like shit, whatever you did healed the worst of the injuries. I’ll stay strong for you. I’ll wait for you to find me. I’ll stay alive.”
She tipped her head back, clinging to him. “We’re close. You have to fight.”
He smiled at her ridiculous command, a hint of his old carefree charm restored enough to make her heart ache. He tipped his head toward her, as if he had any say in the matter. “I’ll do my best.”
But the humor never reached his eyes.
As soon as they woke up, his hellish existence would return.
“You need to go. Be careful. Trust no one but the guys. They have spies watching you. Stay safe. For me. It would break me if anything happened to you.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, and it felt like her heart was being ripped out of her chest. Then he pushed her away, his face hardening, taking with it any signs of the Logan she knew. “They’re coming. I can hear their footsteps.”
Even as he spoke, the room around them became hazy, the touch of his arms less firm.
Reminding her that this was just a dream.
And breaking her heart all over again.
Annora resisted the pull, demanding the darkness inside her to take him with them, but it was no use. Like every other time she tried, everything around her slowly devolved into a smoky haze. Camden carefully gathered her to him, and she struggled against him. “No, please, just a few more minutes.”
But it was too late.
Though she couldn’t see the prison room any longer, she heard the creak of the jail door opening, heard the murmuring glee in her uncle’s voice and the snap of a whip. Her back arched, as if it landed against her flesh instead of Logan’s.
When Logan gave her one last mental shove, the dream dissolved, no matter how hard she tried to grab on to it. She bolted upright and gasped for air.
As she scrambled to get out of bed, Camden gathered her in his arms so tightly her ribs creaked in protest. It was the only thing that kept her from spinning out and losing her freaking mind. She used the pain to ground her, allowed it to push away the need to lie back down and drag Logan back with her one way or another.
But she knew from experience that no matter how hard she tried, Logan wouldn’t allow it.
He wanted to spare her the pain, and she almost choked on her bitterness.
It was only then that she became aware of Camden whispering to her, repeating the same phrase over and over.
“We’ll find him in time. I promise. We’ll find him.”
Chapter Eight
Logan didn’t feel the lash of the whip as it flayed open his back, barely flinched from the pain, so focused on Annora that it was manageable for now. But he knew he would pay for it later. Her uncle would keep going until his arm was too sore to lift the whip or he got his screams.
Though Logan hated to admit it, he was close to breaking.
Every day, reality drifted further and further away.
Annora’s daily visits had become his salvation.
He both lived and dreaded the nightly dreams. He almost gave in to the temptation to never wake, the only thing stopping him was knowing Annora needed him.
He had to fight for the chance to spend more time with her.
A single lifetime wasn’t nearly enough, and he’d be damned if he gave up one second sooner.
He thought the dreams were another sign that he was losing his mind—until Camden showed up too. No way in hell would he use his last minutes on earth to dream of that asshole.
Everything became more real when Annora used her witchy powers to heal him.
He felt better, stronger than he had since before he left, and it took everything in him not to beg her not to leave him.
Until he heard the guards coming.
She had to leave before they discovered her.
As she faded from his arms, she left a gaping hole in his chest.
At his center—where his kitsune hid—rested a dark well of power so deep and vast nothing could consume it.
But instead of fear, his heart warmed.
It was Annora.
She was an unstoppable force that wouldn’t rest until she came for him.
Fear and hope warred inside him.
For the first time, he allowed himself to believe in the possibility that he’d see her again.
A particularly nasty blow split his flesh open, ripping a groan from deep within him. The haze of the dream world beckoned to him, but he gritted his teeth and bore the pain.
Now that he knew the real Annora was waiting for him, his dreams of her would no longer satisfy him.
He gripped the chains pinning him to the floor, wrapping them around his hands, and continued to work on loosening the bolts holding him in place.
He’d be damned if he’d let this blowhard win.
He’d conserve his strength. Wait for the perfect time to strike. Because if it was the last thing that he ever did, he would make sure her uncle never laid a hand on her again.
* * *
Annora followed Camden down the stairs. Though they’d both showered, the cold dampness from the prison still clung to her, the smell of stale blood and the bitter taste of despair hovering around her like a toxic cloud.
The rest of the guys were seated around the table, waiting for them, and she knew Camden must have called them back. From their grim faces, he also must have told them what transpired.
Camden took his seat, but she was too nervous to make herself sit, like she was on trial or something. She leaned her hip against the counter, crossing her arms, not ready for the comfort they were willing to offer, not until she was sure she wouldn’t shatter.
“The nightmares are getting worse.” She spoke bluntly, staring blankly at the middle of the table instead of facing them, or she wouldn’t be able to get the words out. “I swear I can hear him screaming even while I’m awake. Sometimes he calls for me, while others he begs me to stay away.”
It felt like she was go
ing fucking insane.
The guys were silent while she lost her calm, and she swallowed hard against the need to run out the door and allow herself to be taken just so she could be near Logan.
“They won’t kill him.” Xander reminded her, his voice a comforting rumble. “Not until they get what they want.”
Me.
Annora gave a bitter laugh. “You don’t understand. I’m not afraid they’ll kill him. I can save him from death. What I can’t do is put him back together if my uncle breaks him.”
“Logan isn’t as weak as you think.” Camden stood and came to a stop in front of her. “His life hasn’t been easy. He knows how to fight, especially now he knows you’re waiting for him.”
She refused to blink, refused to let her tears fall. She desperately wanted to believe him, but she knew the lengths her uncle would go to in order to achieve his ends. He would break Logan, try to turn him, make him into one of his minions if he could.
And it would destroy her.
“You have no idea what my uncle is capable of.” She shook her head in despair, refusing to look at them lest they see her shattered expression.
“I do.” Edgar watched her without a hint of emotion, always pushing her in a way the other guys were afraid to do. “And I know if I had you waiting for me, I would endure anything, survive anything to get back to you. Your kitsune will fight for you. Trust in him. Trust in us. We’ll do everything in our power to get him back.”
It sounded like a vow, and the guys nodded in complete agreement.
“What we need to do is practice, find a way that you can use your powers without alerting the other phantoms to your presence.” Xander ignored the glare Edgar tossed at him. “She needs to practice taking us with her. If she finds Logan, no way in hell do I want her to go anywhere near her uncle without backup.”
Edgar pursed his lips, unable to refute Xander’s logic.
Hope surged through her at the possibility of actually being able to do something instead of sitting on her ass.
Edgar gave her a speculative look. “You have a rare gift, usually gained with age or a powerful lineage, one that before I met you I would’ve said takes a lifetime to master. But if we can ward the house strongly enough, we could practice ghosting distances without touching the afterworld.”
“Like teleportation?” Mason appeared intrigued instead of disbelieving.
“I know a few witches who owe us favors.” Camden pulled out his phone, already scrolling through the contacts.
Annora reached out, touching his arm. He jumped, startled at the contact, his head snapping up before he seemed to settle himself.
“And the kerfuffle of this morning?” she asked. “You don’t think they’re going to demand more?”
“We need this.” Instead of being concerned, he just shrugged, like any price was worth paying. “They’re going to be gunning for us either way.”
When none of the guys objected, she let the matter drop. While she might not like the idea of inviting strangers into her life, if it meant she could protect the guys and rescue Logan, it was a price that she was willing to pay.
As the guys went into motion, Edgar pulled her off to the side. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
“I have to be.” Annora answered honestly. “I don’t have a choice.”
His lips tightened as he scowled down at her. “The afterworld is a dangerous place. As much as it feels like home to you, there are creatures there that would be more than happy to rip you apart or keep you trapped to feed off of you. You have no idea—”
“I can do this.” She gave him a smile to hide her own doubts. She’d never been afraid of the afterworld the way he was. Maybe it was because she was never taught to fear it, or maybe he was right and she was just being naïve, but she needed to try.
No, she had to do more than try.
She had to make this work, whatever it took.
As if the witches had been waiting for their call, it didn’t take more than an hour for them to show up at the house. She watched no less than five witches gather outside, casting wards strong enough that she could feel them brush against her like static.
When the witches were done, the guys headed out to the backyard. The witches carefully kept their distance, trying to remain quiet so they wouldn’t be kicked out. Having them stay to observe must have been part of the deal to get them to ward the area. The witches gathered at the fire pit, lighting the fire with a simple flick of their wrist, the flame an odd blue color, as if they were using it more to spy than for heat.
The guys waited patiently by the tree line behind the house, pretending the witches didn’t exist…all except Edgar.
He stood facing her in the middle of the clearing, legs spread, arms crossed, an imposing expression on his face. “You know how to ghost people by slipping into the afterworld, but I want you to practice ghosting without setting foot in the other realm before you try to bring anyone with you. The last thing we need is for anyone to get stuck or lost on the other side of the barrier.”
She swallowed hard, not concerned about herself, but what would happen if she lost someone in the afterworld and wasn’t able to pull them out. She gave herself a few seconds to wallow in her doubts, then resolutely pushed them away.
She could do this.
She felt each of the guys in the back of her mind like a warm glow.
If they got lost in the abyss, she would damn well go and get them back.
She thrust her shoulders back and nodded to Edgar. “I’m ready.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he swallowed back any other protests. He knew she was right. This needed to be done. The only way she could protect herself from the other phantoms was if she was stronger, faster, and smarter.
“Travel to the guys and back without entering the afterworld.” That was all he said before he retreated to stand next to Xander.
The first dozen times she tried—she failed spectacularly.
She felt herself slip into the afterworld every jump, no matter how hard she tried to resist.
The next two jumps, she did something different, using the darkness inside her instead of the afterworld, and didn’t even manage to ghost at all. She growled in frustration, glaring daggers at Edgar, but he only shook his head.
“Again. I can still feel you pulling on the afterworld.” He leaned against a tree and crossed his leg at the ankles, as if completely bored. “Try again.”
She glared at him, the urge to skip over to him, smack him, and slip away again nipping along her nerves. Dark particles rose, as if to do her bidding, and an idea sparked.
Grabbing the darkness, she flung the particles out in front of her. Then, with her breath held, she stepped right through them.
They sucked her forward, twisting her inside out, before spitting her back out in front of Edgar.
His mouth dropped open in shock. When she staggered, struggling to regain her equilibrium, he caught her close against his surprisingly firm chest.
“You did it!” He blinked down at her, eyes wide in shock. “How did you do that?”
“It worked?” She smiled, then gave a whoop of victory. “It worked!”
Dizziness assailed her, like she had low blood pressure or something, and Mason steadied her when she would’ve stumbled into him. “Whoa, easy there, little-stuff.”
His concerned gaze moved past her to land on Edgar. “So she can do it, but at what cost?”
The guys gathered around her, and Xander tipped her chin back, studying her eyes, unobtrusively measuring her pulse. After a moment, he retreated. “Physically she’s fine.” Then he glanced at Edgar. “But can you look deeper? See if keeping her from touching the other realm is harming her? While her afterworld might harm you, it might also be her lifeline.”
“I’m fine.” She tried to push away from them, but none of the guys stepped back, their bodies a solid wall. She rolled her eyes at their antics, then sighed and gave in to their silent demand, knowing th
ey wouldn’t stop unless they could confirm for themselves that she was unharmed.
She glanced at Edgar, then pointed to the barrier surrounding them. “Before you do anything, are you sure the wards will hold?”
The last thing she wanted was for the phantoms to come and claim him. Something about seeing Edgar with that girl this morning still rubbed her the wrong way.
Edgar was hers, and she wasn’t letting some skank take him away from her.
Not without a fight.
“They’ll hold.” He grimaced, obviously not relishing calling on the darkness, and she hated that they asked it of him.
“You don’t have to do this.” She rested her hand on his chest, wanting to comfort him. “I feel fine. Honest.”
But he was already shaking his head. “I won’t have you risk yourself foolishly. Let me check you out first.”
“Then I can go with you.” But even before she had a chance to finish her objection, he exploded outward in a cloud of dark smoke, his form indistinguishable, the shape of him only a vague outline. Dark particles shimmered and flared brightly as they caught the sunlight.
Residue from the afterworld radiated from him, a cool breeze wrapping around her, urging her to come and visit, like he was a doorway to the world beyond. She reached out toward him, then gasped at the contact, her whole body tingling like she’d touched an electric current.
His form became solid under her touch, as if she’d called him back, and she pulled away, rubbing the tips of her fingers together. “What was that?”
Edgar’s shoulders were heaving, as if he was struggling to catch his breath. The afterworld faded from his eyes, leaving behind a blue so dark they were almost black, pure joy and possessiveness shone from them as he gazed down at her. “It’s said when a perfect match is found, that phantoms can join their powers together, making them stronger and faster. Making them unstoppable.”
But something about his awe made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “But?”
“It’s rare.” He took a step toward her, as if lured closer by the power, but then forced himself to stop. “Most don’t even try it. If they’re not a close enough match, one phantom can easily consume the other…or worse, they shatter against each other, rendering them both barely a step above a null. Most never recover from the loss of their powers.”
Shackled to the World: A Phantom Touched Novel Page 8