Page 19 of Tethered to the World
“Concentrate where you want the blade to go. Imagine it already in the wall.”
Logan spoke softly, his words sinking into her consciousness. Blowing out her breath, she swung and released the blade.
To her shock, the tip hit the board. It wobbled precariously, then began to droop, then clattered to the floor. She winced and turned, only to find him holding out another knife.
“Again.”
This one was different. The whole knife was made of metal, the blade flat, and when she accepted the knife, it was heavier than she expected, the metal sleek and smooth to her touch.
Annora took up her stance again, concentrated on what she wanted the knife to do, then drew back and released the blade in a smooth move.
To her shock, the blade thwacked heavily into the board right next to his. She couldn’t help but smile as she turned toward him. “I did it!”
There was a slight smile on his face as he turned and went back to making food. “Not until you can hit the same spot consistently. Get the blade and do it again.”
To her surprise, she was able to land the next five out of six throws. Unfortunately, it took a bit more effort to be able to land them in the same spot. After thirty minutes, she was able to get them within six inches of each other, but it wasn’t good enough. If her uncle came at her, she needed to be able to hit him square, before he had a chance to get his hands on her. She’d only get one shot, two at the most, before he would be on her.
“Food.”
She was so focused on sinking the next knife that she jumped when Logan spoke, and the blade ricocheted off the wall and pinged noisily to the ground.
While he turned away with a laugh, Annora stood frozen in place as she struggled to force air into her lungs and fight the panic at the way he managed to sneak up on her. By the time she got herself under control, the rest of the group was already seated, and watching her like she was some weird science experiment they weren’t sure was going to knife them or smile or both.
She ducked her head, swallowing hard as she approached them, struggling not to run like her instincts urged her to do. She carefully seated herself in the place they left for her, not sure how to react. She recalled the small stash of cash in her bag, and glanced at Logan.
“I’ll leave some money on the counter for my share.” She ignored the way her stomach growled at the sheer mass of food spread out on the table and took a small portion of each dish.
She hadn’t realized the rest of the guys stopped eating to watch.
“Hand me your plate.” Mason’s voice was low and dangerous, something in it startling her into dropping her spoon. It was all she could do not to ghost out on them, the darkness around her swirling like dust.
Logan set aside his fifth beer, then casually reached over and handed her plate to Mason. The troll then proceeded to pile her plate so high with food that some of the vegetables began to slide off the edge. He then carefully set it in front of her, ducking his head down until they were eye to eye.
“Food is covered by the university. You will eat when you’re hungry.”
Then he stopped talking but continued to stare at her expectantly. Only when she reached for her fork did he lean back and give her space.
For the remainder of the meal he watched her like a hawk, the rest of the group observing the exchange in silence. She kept her head lowered, but after the first few bites, she shoved thoughts of them out of her mind and just ate.
She plowed through the meal like it had been her first since she escaped from her uncle. Tastes exploded in her mouth, so different from the still-frozen pizza and TV dinners her uncle usually tossed at her.
When she scraped her plate clean and glanced up, she froze.
Everyone was watching her, none of them had even taken a bite.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Chapter Six
Camden spoke barely above a whisper, rage thickening his voice. His skin rippled, a pattern seeming to imprint across it, before the design gradually smoothed out, his question landing like the lash of a whip across her back.
Annora stiffened, then slowly pushed back her chair, conscious of how far away the door was behind her. “I’ll answer you if you can even tell me my name.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, a slew of expressions crossing his face. “He called you Greenwood, but that’s not your name.”
She shook her head. “It’s Annora.”
She stood, then took her plate to the sink to rinse it off, not bothering to look at them. “When you want to discuss the case, call me. Unless you want to discuss your problems with a complete stranger—like what’s wrong with the team—my private life will remain just that…private.”
