Ransomed to the World

by Stacey Brutger

  “Because I still control their stones. They will obey me, even in death.” Flora’s eyes turned mean and nasty, and she held up a bright gem. The stone itself was black, but the insides swirled with a rainbow of colors. “Mason, won’t you be a dear and come here?”

  Her knees nearly collapsed when Mason docilely entered the cave, and nausea churned in her stomach at the blank expression on his face. It was a physical effort to tear her eyes away from him and focus on Flora.

  Or more precisely, the stones she held.

  They were the key.

  She needed to get the stones away from that psycho.

  As if reading her intent, Flora smirked then placed the stone in her mouth and swallowed.

  Aw, shit.

  Annora’s heart sank as her chance to claim Mason shrank down to almost nothing. She had only minutes left before she lost Mason. Then she clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes on the bitch. Fuck if she was going to let her win.

  “I was pissed when my whipping boy left, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Imagine my surprise when you returned him to me. I’m going to enjoy breaking him.” Flora sauntered close to Mason, and placed her hand on his chest, her blunt nails digging into his flesh until he bled. “I’ve missed you, half-breed.”

  Flora must be his childhood tormentor, the one who treated him as nothing more than a slave. But she hadn’t been able to break him.

  Until now.

  This time, she had his stone. She’d never let him escape. She’d grind him under her boot, force him to obey, destroying him physically, mentally, and emotionally, until nothing of the man Annora loved remained.

  She refused to allow it to happen.

  She’d do whatever it took to make sure he remained free.

  Annora grabbed the sword from the sheath on her back. The blade gleamed as the darkness rose to her call, practically glowing in the shadows of the cave. The power shimmered up her damaged arm, stitching it together in a searing wave, and she nearly moaned, the pain like fangs sinking into her flesh. Fire burned along her nerve endings, and she gave herself over to the darkness. “Wrong move, bitch.”

  Flora’s eyes widened, then she grinned. “Too bad you’re not a troll. I could’ve almost liked you. Kill her.”

  The trolls turned their vacant eyes toward her.

  Including Mason.

  Before she could block it, her heart lurched that he would turn on her, and she quickly shoved the thought away, but the ache lingered, like she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

  As they lumbered toward her, Annora lifted her sword, adrenaline flooding her system. She pulled the darkness toward her until she had a wall of fog between her and them. “Go ahead, but I’m not going down alone. I’d like to see you explain to the queen how I killed a half dozen or more of your trolls without her getting suspicious.”

  Flora held up her hand, and the trolls halted their advance. She absently shooed away a couple of flies that had landed on her arm, and Annora nearly gasped to see the bugs had a certain glow to them she associated with the afterworld. The darkness had infected them. Even as she watched, they began to burrow into the troll’s flesh.

  Flora didn’t even flinch. Either the afterworld had damaged her a lot more than Annora expected, or the bugs had a toxin in them that numbed their victims. Even the beetles began to click again as they circled. The spiders moved until the whole ceiling looked like it was alive.

  “You’re right.” Flora narrowed her eyes…until an evil smile twisted her expression. “How about we see just how much you love your little Mason? Will you kill him to save yourself?” Flora jerked her head toward Mason. “Crush her.”

  Mason didn’t hesitate and headed in her direction, bones snapping and cracking under his feet, and she knew he’d do the same to her if he got near. She circled him, keeping the sword between them.

  If she could hold him off for five minutes, the potion would fade.

  And she would lose him forever.

  Not acceptable.

  She could try to knock him out, but she knew from experience that the fucker had a thick skull. Chances of her being able to take him down without injury were slim to none. Running was not an option.

  She managed to dodge his first swing, but she’d forgotten how incredibly quick he could move. Before she could back out of range, his fingers tangled in her long hair. She twisted, pain prickling along her scalp, and she quickly lifted her blade, slicing cleanly through the strands.

  Annora called on the afterworld, hoping to hide in the darkness, but he just charged through it like he could sense her.

  Shit…the potion.

  When he came at her again, she picked up one of the large femur bones and slammed it down on the hand reaching for her, wincing when she heard his bones crack. Instead of retreating, he gave a roar of challenge, and his fist flew.

  She barely lifted the femur she held up in time, but it might as well have been a toothpick. The bone snapped under the blow, and she found herself flying backwards. She landed in a pile of bodies that fell apart under her with a crunch of bone. She scrambled to pull herself out of the corpses, putrid liquid squelching with her every move, the decaying bodies seeming to be doing their best to hold her down.

  One of the trolls behind her kicked out, sending her sprawling back into the center of the cavern, and she barely managed to hang onto her sword.

  Flora gave a cackling laugh, scratching a spot on her neck, oblivious to her skin peeling away or the blood trickling down her throat.

  Annora dragged herself to her feet, pain rippling down her spine as she moved. She had at least one broken rib, if not more. Her hip was bruised, and the arm that held the bone felt like a wet noodle after the numbing blow he gave her.

  Instead of letting the pain cripple her, she embraced it until she was aware of every inch of her body. But she knew her limits. Too much more damage, and it would affect her reaction time.

  No, there was only one way to end this—she just needed to be brave enough to do it.

  When he charged at her next, she inhaled deeply and held her ground, her sword dangling at her side. Instead of plowing her over, he reached out, his hand closing around her throat, his fingers nearly encircling her neck.

  He hauled her off her feet, and she knew from experience not to struggle. His hold was unbreakable. She would only succeed in ripping out her own throat. She grabbed his wrist in the effort to support some of her own weight and keep her neck from snapping. Her hand came to rest over the mating mark, and she felt a spark flow between them. When he pulled her closer, she released the breath she’d been holding, and a wave of dark particles streamed out from her parted lips to dust the air between them. It hit his face, seeping into his nose and clouding his eyes.

  His hand tightened, and her head swam dangerously, the room dimming.

  Then his grip loosened, awareness flooding his eyes, their natural lavender color blooming bright, tiny shards of black from the afterworld lingering, keeping him sane. His hair swayed forward, static crackling, the strands caressing her face as recognition settled in him.

  Horror widened his eyes when he realized his hand was wrapped around her throat. When he would’ve dropped her as if she burned him, she tightened her grip on his wrist.

  We only have one shot to take out Flora.

  He gave a barely-perceptible nod.

  Throw me.

  He winced, but didn’t protest. They had to get this right on the first shot. As soon as the bitch figured out Mason was no longer hers to command, they were both dead.

  It was a risk.

  It was also their only chance.

  Mason must have agreed. His body bulked up more, if that was possible, like he’d been holding himself back despite the potion. He stood at least eight feet tall, and she dangled from his grip like a toddler. He searched her face, as if memorizing her features, and worry flitted through her mind about what he had planned.

  Mason—don’t do anything
stupid.

  She didn’t have time to say more. He whirled, sending her flying through the air. Annora barely stifled her squeak and quickly brought up her sword, chuckling at the shocked expression on Flora’s face. Unfortunately, the bitch was fast and dodged out of the way.

  Instead of taking Flora’s head, the sword sliced into her arm. Annora had enough time to see the appendage was dangling by just a tiny bit of flesh before the ground came rushing up. She rolled, plowing through a pile of bones, then collided with the cave wall with a resounding thump that stole her breath.

  “You fucking bitch!” Flora glared, rage leaving her eyes gleaming red. Black blood splattered the ground. Ignoring her injury, Flora grabbed a stalagmite nearest her, snapped it off, then launched it through the air like a spear.

  Not wanting to chance she’d injure herself more by trying to dodge out of the way, Annora ghosted. Solid stone passed clear through her, and artic cold pierced her torso where the rock passed, then shattered against the rock behind her with a bang.

  Flora blinked and shook her head, as if struggling to gain her bearings…until her eyes locked once more on Annora, and she roared, “Kill them both.”

  When the trolls surged forward, Annora’s restraint snapped. The afterworld rose around them…and so did the dead.

  Bones rattled as they began to take shape and pull themselves upright. Mason ignored everything going on around them, focusing on keeping the trolls off her. But the odds were not in their favor. If she didn’t act fast, they’d be overwhelmed.

  Flora stumbled away from the skeletons as they shuffled toward her. Some wore tattered clothing that hung off their bones. A few still had flesh clinging to them. With each step, the shreds of flesh would quiver and shake, while tiny drops of putrid decay would plop to the ground with a splat. Bugs crawled in and out of the flesh, like demented little operators, guiding the skeletons forward. Spiders began to drop from the ceiling onto Flora, their bites swelling like large welts that wept a yellow, sickly pus.

  When one of the creatures reached for her, Flora panicked and batted it away. The bones collapsed to the ground with a clatter, then quivered as they slowly reassembled and the creature began to rise again. Flora backed away, her boots crunching the horde of waiting beetles. They swarmed over her, crawling up her body, nipping and biting in a frenzy.

  Annora was distracted when three trolls piled on top of Mason, nearly taking him down. Though he might be slightly smaller than the other trolls, he fought with a ferocity that none of the others possessed. A quick jab up with his elbow shattered one’s nose, a fast kick to one’s knee bent it backwards. He reached forward, grabbed the man by the neck, and yanked his head down, then brought up his knee at the same time, hitting the troll so hard that his feet left the ground.

  But Mason didn’t get time to catch his breath before the other five surrounded them.

  Then she didn’t have time to see anything more as he disappeared in the melee. She wanted to go to him, but she knew the only way to stop this was to stop Flora.

  Time was running out.

  She had only a minute or two left to get the stone if she wanted to claim Mason.

  Flora spun, drawing her attention. The troll slapped at herself with one hand, her other arm dangling uselessly at her side, practically vomiting curses that all but scorched the air. That’s when she spotted Annora standing still in the middle of the cave.

  With a snarl of rage, she charged. Instead of retreating, Annora placed one foot back and braced herself, tightening her grip on her blade. At the last second, Annora spun on her heel and slashed with the sword.

  The tug on the metal let her know that she hit flesh.

  She whirled and saw Flora stagger.

  “Annora,” Mason grunted, then dropped to his knees as the rest of the trolls began to work together to take him down. His face was a mask of concentration and pain, his eyes locking onto hers. “Hurry.”

  Annora dodged around the skeletons, pulling her arm back to take her head when Flora turned.

  She was nearly split open from stem to stern, blood bubbling up from between her fingers as she struggled to keep her guts from spilling to the floor using her one functional arm. She seemed confused by the blood.

  Annora edged forward, then rocked to a stop when she saw the shadows behind Flora begin to stretch across the walls. Two figures took shape, gliding forward, and Annora nearly stumbled over her feet as she took a hasty step back, the tip of her sword drooping.

  Reapers.

  They were hidden under their cowls. Excitement surged through her at the thought of being able to speak with her long-lost uncle again and ask him some questions about her stepmother.

  Then his warning to be wary of other reapers hit her. Heart pounding frantically against her ribs, she lifted the tip of her sword back up. The coin dangling at the end of her necklace burned a bitter cold, searing into her flesh in warning.

  One of the reapers glanced at her and gave a brief nod of recognition, and she nearly recoiled.

  That so can’t be good.

  The reapers reached forward, but instead of lunging for her, they grabbed Flora’s arms. The troll struggled and cursed wildly as they dragged her into the shadows…until the darkness swallowed them whole.

  Silence rang in the cave for a second, and Annora quickly cut her connection to the afterworld, watching the fading shadows carefully to make sure nothing else crossed over. The bugs skittered into the shadows before the portal closed, as if they got a taste of the darkness and wanted more.

  Particles licked at her skin, and she gritted her teeth as her bones ground together before they finally snapped back into place. The ragged edges of her flesh stretched painfully as they knitted back together, and she pulled away from the seductive allure before she was fully healed. There were too many wounds to repair without dropping her into unconsciousness.

  The last thing she wanted to risk was having the reapers return when she wasn’t able to fight back. The minor cuts and bruises remained, allowing her to breathe without wheezing. Usually the afterworld left her invigorated, but a bone-deep ache remained, leaving her whole body feeling sore.

  The rest of the cavern returned to normal, bones clattering as the skeletons collapsed. It was the absolute silence left behind that raised the hairs on the back of her neck, and Annora whirled, bringing up her sword, terrified of what she would find.

  Chapter Ten

  When Annora saw Mason still standing, she nearly dropped to her knees in relief, the tip of her sword dipping. For a second, she’d been afraid the reapers had taken him from her too.

  The rest of the trolls glanced around the cavern with wide eyes, then lifted their hands and backed away warily, cradling their injuries. While some gave a nod of respect to Mason, their outright fear was reserved for her.

  If it kept them from attacking Mason, she was fine with that.

  “You have to hurry and get the stone.” Mason strode toward her as the last of the afterworld began to fade around them. “We only have a minute at most remaining.”

  Confusion whirled inside Annora, and she straightened slowly, startled to see Flora’s unfocused eyes staring up at her. She didn’t expect to see her body at all.

  Then it clicked—reapers harvested souls.

  They must have sensed Flora’s death from the afterworld and came to claim hers.

  Annora’s legs trembled at the thought of how easily they could’ve grabbed Mason instead, and she swallowed hard past her tight throat.

  The troll’s body was ravaged, like she’d been dead for a week already. Her flesh was shriveled up like a prune and leaked from the many holes. The coffin flies flicked around the body, feasting on the surface, while the beetles swam underneath, her skin bulging as they burrowed into her flesh. Giant webs swaddled her legs as hundreds of spiders began to swarm over her and lay claim.

  Pushing aside her shock, Annora released the sword, watching it vanish in a swirl of smoke to return to Edg
ar. She hurried forward and crouched next to the body, biting back a groan when the muscles of her thighs protested the burn. Taking a bracing breath, she shored up her resolve, then shoved her hand into the gaping wound in the stomach.

  And right into a pool of warm blood.

  Something swam in it, brushing against her fingers, and she shuddered, nearly yanking her hand out. No! She needed that stone!

  Gritting her teeth, she shoved her arm deeper until it was up to her elbow.

  The smell of rot and steamy blood thickened the air until it became so polluted, she fought hard not to gag.

  She fished around until she felt the stones tingle against her fingers, then began pulling them out. By the time she finished there were close to three dozen stones. Without hesitation, Annora plucked one out of the mix, the black opal shimmered with a deep vein of red and gold, and she clutched it to her chest.

  She smiled up at Mason, not caring she was splattered, practically coated in blood and gore. “Do you think we made it in time?”

  He gave a firm nod, like there was no question that they succeeded. “Yes.”

  Mason’s shirt was in tatters, barely hanging on his massive shoulders. His pants were shredded from the knees down, and his shoes were just an afterthought. His hair was wild and bristled aggressively, swaying as if trying to sense a threat.

  Every inch of his skin was battered, a smear of blood across his arm highlighting a nasty cut. The white of his left eye was red where the blood vessels had burst, a lump was already forming over his right eye, blood dripped from a slight tear in his ear, and a bruise darkened his jaw.

  Her fingers itched to heal him, but she was wary of calling on the afterworld so soon. She decided not to take the risk, not until she was sure she could guarantee his safety. It physically hurt for her to turn away from him when he clearly needed her help.