He needed to let her know she meant everything to him.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he twisted and rolled onto his numb hands, making them feel like he’d stuck them in a woodchipper. With each move, the scabs crusted along his back from his last whipping just hours before broke open, and fresh blood spilled. He wanted to rage and fight, but he couldn’t help but tremble when he thought of the punishment they’d inflict if he managed to escape and they caught him.
Only one thing snapped him out of his paralysis.
Annora was waiting for him.
He would never go back to that cell. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t survive.
He was already becoming conditioned by the pain.
How to avoid it.
Ways to please his captors so he wouldn’t be hurt again.
The fear was like being wrapped in barbed wire. He couldn’t help wondering if he was already too damaged, worrying that she wouldn’t want him back…that he would fail her when she needed him most. With each thought, his doubts sent the barbed wire burrowing deeper.
He fought against it.
Only one thing was more basic than fear—his need to see her again. She was like air. Without her, he would drown in the pain. Only the image of them together when this was over allowed him to hold onto hope.
He could do this…he could escape…just for the chance to see her again.
Blowing out a shaky breath, he pushed through the pain and explored the area where they’d dumped him.
Small.
Cramped.
His brain was struggling to understand the sensory information.
It was the scent of oil and gas that gave it away.
He was in the fucking trunk of a car.
As his senses returned to him in fits and starts, he heard yelling and the sounds of battle.
The guys had arrived.
They came for him.
He inhaled sharply as hope burned bright, a sob of laughter catching in his throat.
Time to leave.
He grabbed the last spark of energy he’d been saving and called his kitsune. The way he was bound would ensure he would be turned inside out if he tried to shift. If he would even be able to change…his beast was beyond tired.
He needed to get the ropes off.
As he called on his beast, the fox lifted his dark head sluggishly, then gave a small nod at his plea and closed his eyes.
A spark of fire snapped and crackled between his hands until the scent of charred rope reached him, then it sputtered and fizzled like a blowtorch that was running out of oxygen.
Then it was gone.
Hopefully those few seconds were enough.
The rest of it was up to him.
He pulled and strained, the last strands of frayed rope binding him stretched and finally fell away.
Freedom!
A sob caught in his chest.
Then pain shot through his arms and legs like railroad spikes were being slammed into them as the blood flow returned. Panting like he’d been running for a week straight, he groped for the cord to release the trunk, gripping the spindly metal cable like a lifeline, and yanked.
Only for it to come away in his hand.
He burst out laughing, more of a wheezing sound than anything else, dark humor burning like acid in his guts. “Give me a fucking break!”
He wanted to rage at the gods but couldn’t spare the energy. The fighting was getting louder. He refused to lie here helpless, waiting to be rescued…or slaughtered before he could even get out of the trunk. He ran his hands along the confined space, but knew he was too weak to peel away the reinforced frame. It was only when he searched the floor beneath him that he smiled.
Rolling to his side, he punched clear through the floor, ripping away the carpeted cardboard to the tire beneath—or more precise—the tire iron. Grabbing the slim metal rod, he wedged it into the trunk latch.
It took four tries for it to finally give and the trunk lid popped open.
Fresh air rushed inside, and he gulped it greedily.
Freedom lay beyond, just a few inches away, but he was paralyzed by fear. If he left and they caught him, they would torture him again.
It was the thought of Annora waiting for him that finally got him moving.
She was in danger.
She needed him.
Gritting his teeth, he clutched the tire iron to his chest and eased open the lid, then dragged himself out, nearly falling on his face before catching himself on the lip of the trunk. He staggered upright, suppressing a groan as his ribs and spine protested.
Then he tightened his grip on the tire iron and staggered off toward the sounds of fighting. His body didn’t seem to work right, lurching instead of running smoothly, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Darkness surrounded him, ready and waiting to swallow him if he failed. His eyes were nearly swollen shut from his recent beating, and he could barely see a dozen feet straight ahead.
Despite the pain, he pushed forward, putting one foot in front of the other for only one reason…Annora.
If it was the last thing he did, he would destroy anyone who thought to harm her, even if it took his last breath to do it.
* * *
Annora felt solid ground under her feet, but it didn’t keep her legs from buckling and dumping her on her ass. Kevin landed more gracefully, like he was stepping through a doorway, while she seemed to trip over the invisible stoop.
She glared up at him. “You could’ve warned a girl.”
“Sorry.” He grimaced and offered her a hand. “The landing takes a bit of getting used to. Those with a bigger affinity for magic are more affected by the ride.”
She accepted his hand, grunting noncommittally at his comment, not sure how much of her magic was from her mother and how much was just normal for phantoms. Either way, portalling sucked donkey balls.
The din of battle filled the clearing, and she whirled, charging through the trees, climbing up a small hill to reach the peak…and stopped dead. The entire battlefield was stretched out before her, the full moon illuminating everything in all its gory, devastating details. She quickly spotted the guys as they tore through the army with an ease that she envied. They were amazing to watch.
Mason smashed his way through his opponents, while Xander seemed to glide from one fight to the next, landing only long enough to eliminate the threat and soaring on to his next target. What freaked her out was the way Camden walked through battle with no fucking weapons at all. He wore his full armor from his lizard form, using his touch to knock out any who got within reach, and the wicked sharp spikes at his elbows to slice through the more stubborn opponents.
Each of the guys was fast and efficient in his takedowns, shouting orders as they moved onto their next targets. They remained in a group, often working back-to-back to protect the unit.
No wonder Greenwood considered them the best.
She couldn’t hold back the awe and love that swamped her, unaware she was broadcasting until the guys’ emotions flooded her…relief at knowing she was alive, fear and worry for her. Then they redoubled their efforts with one shared goal—no one touched her.
Camden shouted orders to the surrounding teams, and the soldiers surged toward Erickson’s location. To her surprise, Sadie was in the midst of the battle, her sword swinging, lopping off limbs of any who dared get too near the guys, but sticking especially close to Edgar as he waded fearlessly through the battle. They moved like they’d fought together many times, and Annora shrugged away the pang of jealousy, refusing to let it distract her.
The witches hung back, performing spells to keep the shifters from transforming into their animal counterparts. Anyone who dared get too close was doused in a spell that melted whatever it hit, the magic dirty, but very effective. The rest were on the outskirts, shielding the whole battlefield with a dome to keep the sounds of war contained and discourage the wrong sort of people from investigating.
Erickson’s men fought hand
-to-hand. They weren’t as efficient as the trained teams, but what they lacked in skill they made up for in sheer numbers and determination. A few of the larger shifters hung back, protecting Erickson.
While the director remained in his human form, there was nothing human about him in the way he picked up one of the wolves fighting nearby and ripped him to shreds with just his not-quite human teeth and claws.
It only took seconds to end a life.
She searched the teeming masses for Logan, but she couldn’t see him anywhere—there were just too many people, too much movement for her to be able to track everything. Anxiety tightened her throat at the possibility that she might be too late.
Near their perch, one of Greenwood’s men went down under a pile of bodies. Annora glanced at Kevin, but he was watching his brother struggle to fight off two wolves at the same time. “Go.”
Kevin hesitated another moment, indecision twisting his face, then gave a nod. “You better not die on me.”
It was a demand and a plea.
He was off before she could reply.
Then there was no more time to think or watch.
Cursing herself for her lack of weapons, she grabbed a sharp rock and hefted it, testing the weight, before she charged into battle. She grabbed one shifter, still in human form, by his hair, wrenched his head back and brought down the rock sharp and fast, ignoring the threatening flash of his fangs. The meaty thunk sounded juicy. His eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped to the ground with a grunt.
Unfortunately, he would be back in action in a few minutes.
Knocking them out wouldn’t keep shifters down for long.
The shifter that went down slashed and clawed at the remaining opponent until he slumped over, his bulk threatening to suffocate the smaller man. Annora leaned over, quickly grabbing the unconscious guy’s shoulder and yanked, while the shifter beneath heaved. Together they were able to pull the nearly three-hundred-pound guy away.
Annora turned…only to find Vicki glaring up at her. “You.”
“Me.” Annora gave her a crooked smile, then offered her hand. Despite the she-wolf hating her since she’d showed her up the night of the party, Vicki hesitated only for a moment, then grabbed it.
Once on her feet, Vicki stepped back and shook out her hands and arms, scattering blood and tissue everywhere. Worry tightened Annora’s gut as she watched the battle, wondering if they could even win. They were massively outnumbered. She hadn’t realized how many wolves would come to Erickson’s aid and fight.
She must have said it out loud, because Vicki snarled. “They don’t have any choice. They must obey their alpha. If the wolf doesn’t have a strong enough alpha to hold them, Erickson rips them away and forces them to fight for him.”
Horror sliced through her while she looked across the battlefield again—so many innocent people were being killed.
And for what? More power?
She watched the battle with new eyes…and realized what must be done. “We need to get to Erickson.”
“Be my guest.” Vicki waved her arm, indicating the far side of the battle, a whole field of wolves and shifters between them.
Annora glanced up, then watched in sickening fascination as Erickson picked up a kid half his size, cracked him open by nearly snapping the kid’s head off and drank his blood like the kid was a wine cask. Blood and gore spilled down his face and chest in a red wave, and she gritted her teeth against the need to vomit.
He grabbed another kid, then another, seemingly at random, uncaring what side of the battle they fought.
After her uncle sold her blood, she’d done a bit of research. A few people actually believed they could steal the strength of their opponent by drinking the blood of the defeated. She’d discovered that the magic in her blood usually broke down quickly, so she didn’t think much about it.
Her blood must have driven Erickson insane.
While the guys said shifters normally couldn’t get diseases, she wondered if ingesting too much had rotted his brain.
And her guys were heading straight for him.
Her insides turned to stone—none of them would stop until the other was dead.
Sorrow turned her heart heavy when she realized what needed to be done. The afterworld called to her, instinct warning her that time was running out.
She needed to act before it was too late.
The phantoms were coming.
She could feel someone searching the afterworld.
Determined to make the rest of her time matter, she gathered the few dark particles that were struggling to heal her, then turned toward Vicki with a trembling smile. “Tell the guys I love them.”
Vicki’s head snapped up, her eyes widening. “Wait—what?”
Without giving Vicki a chance to stop her, Annora allowed her body to dissolve and reform a few yards away from her target. As she landed, Vicki’s cursing cut off abruptly. The afterworld clung to her, and her hands shook with the need to absorb the swirling mass.
Fuck it.
Her father was coming for her either way.
It was only a matter of time.
If accessing the afterworld was going to get her killed, she was going to make it worthwhile.
Annora tore down every wall she ever built to keep herself safe—and darkness welcomed her with open arms.
Her back arched as power slammed into her with the force of jumping out of a plane without a parachute and hitting the ground. The world around her vanished as her vision darkened. Her injuries stitched together in a vomit-inducing second, the pain lingering under her skin for just a moment before the adrenaline took over and sloshed in her veins.
Energy filled up her body like she was drowning. As she gasped for air, darkness spilled down her throat. Every nerve tingled painfully to life, her body going weightless until she could no longer feel the earth beneath her feet.
When she opened her eyes, the roars and snarls of battle came rushing back. Blood landed on her like mist, so thick she could taste it with each breath. The sharp scent of pain and fear clogged the air.
Her body became heavy—solid—and her feet slowly touched the earth. Only then did she become aware of Erickson watching avidly, licking his lips like he was trying to figure out how to take her apart and get to the gooey insides.
“I told your uncle he was a fool. He should’ve turned you over to me immediately, then all of this could’ve been avoided.” He studied her clinically, seeing her only as a commodity to be owned. While her uncle loved torturing and enforcing his dominance, she suddenly wondered if his loving care might have saved her from something worse.
When she stared at Erickson, pure insanity looked back. Whatever was left of his soul was fractured and twisted. His lust for death and blood was bottomless.
He thrived on it.
Nothing would ever convince him to surrender.
The only thing that would satisfy him was the complete and total decimation of anyone and everyone who thought to oppose him.
He honestly believed the lives of others were his for the taking…because he could.
She had only one choice—he needed to die.
“That’s cute.” Annora smiled at Erickson, allowing the afterworld to weave through her fingers. “You actually believed I would have obeyed.”
Erickson’s smile was all teeth, his eyes completely devoid of amusement…or any sign of life for that matter. “There are ways to make people submit.”
He was more of a monster in human form than any animal could hope to be. No wonder her uncle got along with him so well. She knew the instant the guys spotted her. Mason let out a roar that shook the air and charged forward. With each step his form bulked up more, his big frame knocking down and scattering anyone unlucky enough to get in his way.
The guys must have been used to the tactic, because they quickly fell in line in the empty space he left behind and followed the path of destruction. They were determined to get to her, keep her safe, and w
ere willing to pay for it with their lives. Erickson would use them against her, and she couldn’t allow that.
She had five minutes tops before they reached her.
She hadn’t even finished the thought when Edgar winked out of existence and appeared at her side. Black smoke clung to him, curling around him like a lover’s caress. Before she had a chance to open her mouth, he attacked the wolves sneaking up behind her.
Only there were too many to hold off for long.
It was time to act.
A blood-splattered Sadie appeared in an explosion of black dust. Her eyes immediately latched on to Edgar. She turned and cheekily saluted Annora with her sword. “I got him. Go do your thing.”
Without waiting for a response, Sadie charged into battle, hacking at everyone who dared get too close to Edgar. Annora hesitated, then took a leap of faith. Although she wasn’t sure if she trusted the girl, she knew without a doubt that the phantom would protect Edgar within an inch of her life. It was good enough for Annora.
Pushing away her thoughts of battle, she focused on Erickson.
She would be no match to him in a fair fight.
Good thing she had no intention of fighting fair.
Grasping onto the darkness, she threw herself forward—and appeared behind him.
Before she could land a blow, he whirled and snarled at her. He lashed out, claws slicing through air, and she barely ducked in time to miss having her throat torn out. She tried twice more, but his reflexes were too sharp for him to be taken by surprise.
They were too evenly matched.
The vengeful side of her was perfectly fine with destroying him at the cost of her own life, but her heart twinged at the thought of losing her men.
It was much too soon.
She hadn’t had enough time with them.
Then there was no more time to think because Erickson snarled and charged. For every blow she landed, he got in two. After a nasty slash that nearly gutted her, Annora realized this plan of attack wouldn’t work. They were both healing too fast.
Conscious of the guys getting closer, she grabbed the first reckless plan that popped into her head—bait.
She would wait for Erickson to get close, then strike a killing blow and hope he didn’t take her out as well. She was tempted to drag his ass into the afterworld, but she wasn’t sure what awaited her.
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