Page 82 of Tethered to the World
Whatever allowed her to travel to this realm now seemed to protect them. Relief made her lightheaded.
With a gentle push, she shoved everyone else out of the afterworld.
Knowing she couldn’t hurt her guys sent her heart soaring, and she grinned up at Mason.
His tattoos shimmered like they were made of a liquid metal, the afterworld seeming to enhance him, instead of stealing the life from him like the other people who visited this realm.
Mason didn’t seem to notice her stare, his attention glued on the four prisoners. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”
Her abductors were still unconscious, their pale skin bleached white. Black tar leaked from their eyes, ears and noses, even dripped out of their mouths. She had no doubt that when they woke their eyes would be pure black. Black veins throbbed under their skin, shimmering a faint blue from the drugs they ingested.
“Their souls are dying.” Even as she watched, colorless butterflies landed on the bodies. Florescent blue veins forked across their wings as they began to feed.
“What…”
Annora didn’t want to tell him, admit to him that she was a monster, but they had a right to know who lived in their house. She refused to look at him as she explained how the afterworld worked. “I told you this is a place where people come to die. I can draw people here. Something about me attracts the attention of the creatures here.”
Mason eyed the darkness more closely, edging in front of her, as if he planned to protect her from the monsters. Her stomach tumbled at the sweet gesture.
“They won’t hurt me.” She edged around him and headed toward the prisoners when he reached out and clamped his hand around her arm, his fingers encircling her easily, refusing to let her get any closer. She patted his arm, then nodded toward the prisoners. “Come. Watch.”
She leaned over one of them, scattering the butterflies with a wave of her hand.
Mason loomed behind her, watching them flutter in the air, seconds away from plucking her up and running like hell. She ignored him as she studied the prisoners, focusing on the last one, the youngest, who seemed to be the least infected by evil.
When she moved, Mason stiffened, grabbing her shoulders. “What are you doing?”
He sounded like he expected her to disappear. She reached up and patted his hand. “This place stands between life and death. I can tip the balance…at least for a fraction of time.”
“It’s where you heal people—” He shook his head. “Where your uncle forced you to heal people.”
He looked ready to protest, not liking that they were asking her to do the same thing.
“This is different. This is my choice. Watch.”
She touched the tar oozing out of the prisoner until it turned to smoke, and she slowly dragged it out of his body. He began to cough, and hacked out a cloud of dust. She didn’t stop pulling until the dull, golden strands of his life force slowly began to flicker and brighten.
The black veins retreated some, the drug flushing out of his system, and when he blinked, blue tears trailed down his cheeks. Only when the darkness infesting him gradually retreated did she pull back.
When Mason reached out to touch the black tar, she smacked his hand away, panic tightening her chest so quickly she lost her breath. “Don’t. That black tar is death.”
Instead of recoiling, he grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the prisoners, the troll in him taking over as the need to protect her surged to the forefront of his mind.
“Easy, buddy. For some reason, the tar doesn’t like me.” She pointed to the glow lighting her up like a beacon in the dark world. “Whatever power I have keeps the tar from…sticking to me.”
He relaxed only marginally.
“Look at the prisoner. Most of the sludge has slid off, reabsorbed back into this world. He’s not healed, not completely, but he has a choice now…go back to his old ways and turn dark again, or start fresh and heal.” She wrapped her hands around Mason’s forearm, then smiled up at him. “Ready to go back?”
His eyebrows rose, his gaze flicking to the waking prisoner like he was tempted to thrash the man back into unconsciousness again, and she shook his arm.
His only answer was an inarticulate grunt.
As the kid began to wake, his wolf came skulking out of the shadows.
It took one look at her, tucked its tail between his legs, and took off running.
The kid swallowed hard, looking around the afterworld, horror written on his face, and began to babble. “Don’t leave me here. They made me do it.”
