Page 1 of Shackled to the World
Chapter One
One week later…
“You can die just as easily as everyone else,” Eddie warned, seconds before he vanished.
Annora resisted the urge to growl in frustration. They were at the stadium, teaching her how to fight and use her phantom abilities at the same time.
And she was failing.
In the last week, Eddie had taken it upon himself to train her—or more like punish her whenever she called him by that name, which she did frequently, since she knew it pissed him off. She refused to call him Edgar anymore, not when he lied to her about everything.
Annora concentrated on locating him, able to feel the dark particles move through the air. She whirled and ducked when he appeared behind her, barely missing the fist aimed at her face, his knuckles grazing her cheek slightly when she didn’t move fast enough. Living as a ferret, watching her for years, had given him insight into how she moved and fought. He could anticipate what she would do even before she thought it. That insight, added to his lightning speed and reflexes, meant she barely landed any blows.
Sweat coated her skin, matting her hair, and her head pounded from sustaining the hypervigilant focus she needed to survive the training session without ending up a bloody mess. But she refused to call it quits—not until she was strong enough to track down Logan and take him back.
“If you want to survive long enough to rescue your friend, you’re going to have to learn to be faster.” Eddie scowled and crossed his arms, not even a strand of his black hair out of place. The afterworld glowed in his eyes, adding to his aura of displeasure.
Annora scowled back. There was a ruthlessness to Edgar the others didn’t have when training her. He pushed her harder, knew how much damage her body could take, then demanded more.
She glanced at the sideline where she kept her bag. Snug inside were the knives Logan left her. She’d been practicing with them every spare second, still able to feel the tiny nicks and cuts on her fingers from the long hours of working with the blades. She itched to use those knives on Eddie. She knew just the right way to cut a person to cause maximum pain, ways to make him bleed, ways to slow him down and take him out.
Her uncle taught her many things while she was in his care—most of them how to torture, maim and kill.
At night, when she let down her guard and couldn’t hold off sleep any longer, she relived the torture, struggling against her need to feel pain in order to feel alive. She relished the lick of pain as cold blades bit into her flesh, the way the lash of a whip landed against her back, the metal tips digging into her spine and shredding her muscles so badly standing was impossible.
As if he knew she was close to breaking and taking all her pent-up rage out on him, Eddie held up his hands, palms out, and backed away.
His nose was long and straight, his eyebrows full, his lips generous if a bit hard, and while he wasn’t as muscular as the other guys on the team, he was even more ruthless. The way he moved was different from humans, even different from shifters. There was an elegance to him, an effortless self-awareness that she envied.
Her body ached, every inch of her covered with bruises and scrapes. The pain usually invigorated her, kept her going past her limits, the extra boost of adrenaline like a craving, but she was just too tired. She’d been warned to stay out of the afterworld for fear her presence would be noticed, but the darkness was like an addiction.
As if noticing she was reaching the end of her endurance, Xander spoke from the sidelines, striding toward them, his long, muscular legs eating up the distance. “That’s enough for the day.”
The man was big and rugged and intimidating as fuck. His black hair was buzzed short on the back and sides, leaving the silvery, frosted tips on top to sweep over his forehead. Stubble covered his jaw, giving him a dissolute look that made him sexy as hell.
As he came to a stop between them, she wasn’t sure whether he was protecting her or Eddie. Annora leaned over, bracing her hands on her knees, finding the ground suddenly fascinating as she panted to catch her breath. While she marveled at the way the men were trying to take care of her, she also found it annoying.
She could train more.
She needed to do more.
“Not yet. I need—”
“You need to get ready for school.” Xander turned slowly to face her, his sharp teal eyes narrowed dangerously, pinning her in place. “We agreed to help you train, but only if you promised to listen to our advice. If you fall behind in your studies, they will expel you. What use would you be to Logan if you’re gone?”
Annora wanted to protest that getting Logan out alive was more important than some stupid classes, but the guys refused to budge on the issue. Since arguing would be a waste of breath, she stomped over to the sidelines, struggling to control her fury. Ever since Logan was taken, the fury had been getting worse.
Escalating.
Close to raging out of control.
Collecting her bag, she headed for the shower, trying to shove all her hurt and anger into a box to keep the uncontrolled fury from spreading.
Tried, but nothing seemed to work.
The rage just continued to grow.
She was tempted to reach for the afterworld and skip home, but Eddie’s warning that she could be tracked made her hesitate. She didn’t really give a shit if her father or the others located her, but she couldn’t risk getting killed, not until after she rescued Logan.
