Page 11 of Shackled to the World
And found abso-fucking-nothing about how to defeat her uncle or Director Erickson.
But she was learning about phantoms, their strengths and weaknesses…and their magic. No way could she let that information fall into the witches’ unscrupulous hands. “The knowledge has nothing to do with you or the university. It’s a family heirloom.”
The class watched them like an old video game of pong, a few of them almost gleeful, subconsciously trying to stay out of range, as if waiting for a bomb to explode.
And Annora wasn’t sure if they were more afraid of her or Hopper.
“Lies. Those were spells. They belong tous.” The witch gave her a nasty look, then glanced down at the still-blank phone. Magic rose in the air, quickly followed by the burnt smell of melted plastic.
The phone gave a warbled chirp, a small wisp of black smoke rose from the device, and part of her soul shriveled as another connection to Logan was taken from her.
With a snarl, Hopper pulled out her phone, angrily jabbing numbers so hard her finger threatened to punch through the glass. As soon as the clock ticked down to the end of the class, the students shot to their feet.
Before Annora could take a step, Hopper whirled and pointed a finger at her. “We’re not through. Stay here. Don’t make me hunt you down.”
Then she went back to chatting on her phone, no doubt talking to her coven leader.
One of the students paused next to her, bending down to whisper in her ear, his eyes locked on the witch across the room. “Be careful. You need to watch your back around them.”
“Giles?” She blinked up at him in shock, hardly recognizing the change in the man since Erickson tried to harvest the magic from him. She’d used her magic to keep him alive when he hovered near death. In turn, he helped those held captive escape. How was it possible for him to have grown taller? And he had to have gained at least fifty pounds.
His eyes shimmered a bright yellow as his wolf prowled forward, then he blinked it away, and gave her a smile and a small salute before he looked over her head at the witch. His eyes widened just before he allowed himself to be swept away in the flow of students. “I’ll just wait outside until your men show up.”
In case she needed him.
It wouldn’t surprise her to learn he’d been keeping an eye on her ever since their return.
As the students poured out of the class, she saw Camden, Xander, Mason, and even Edgar force their way into the room. Based on their long-combined histories of wars and battles among the shifter clans, witches, and vampires, she suspected they weren’t there to walk her to her paranormal history class. Annora glanced at them for a moment, then looked down and glared at the ferret in exasperation when she realized what had happened. “You told.”
He lifted his cheese-stained paws in the air, then tucked them together as if begging for forgiveness.
She rolled her eyes at him, heaving a sigh. She could never stay mad at the little guy. When she stooped to pick up her bag, he scrambled inside with a happy chatter.
The guys, however, were in warrior mode, all of them so handsome and lethal a thrill shot through her at knowing they were hers.
As they surrounded her, Hopper charged forward like a yappy Pomeranian and blocked their way. She held out the phone clutched in her fist like a sword ready to cut Annora down. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Greenwood is expecting us.” Xander stormed between them, his dark hair more prominent when the white tips bristled. Inhaling his fresh sea breeze scent eased her rage, and Annora watched Camden stride within touching distance, ready to drop the witch with just one brush of his poisonous fingertips. He spoke on the phone with Greenwood, the director’s voice easily heard from the device demanding their presence immediately.
Mason stood guard near the door, his bulk blocking the entry so no one could slip past and steal her away. She couldn’t see anything past his massive shoulders, and all she wanted to do was go over and lean against him and not think for just two seconds, desperate for just a whiff of his fresh pine and copper scent. His fangs peeked out of his mouth. It shouldn’t be sexy, but she craved a taste of him, needing it to soothe her ragged nerves.
Xander blocked the witch’s every attempt to go around him, her voice rising to a screech, while Edgar plucked Annora’s bag out of her hand and tried to herd her toward the door. There was a self-awareness to him that made him stand out from other men, even the supernaturals. He had a strong jaw, giving him a stubborn look, though everything about him softened when his gaze landed on her. The pure joy and possessiveness shining from him was still present right now but dimmed.
Because of her.
He carefully kept his distance, a distance she insisted they maintain, and a pang of guilt made her stomach churn.
No matter how much shit she dumped on him, he always showed up when she needed him the most.
Despite the lies and deception, there was one thing she could always trust him with—her life.
Chapter Four
As the team crossed the quad, Annora could practically feel the witch breathing down her neck. The woman was so close, she could imagine her own shadow reaching out, ready to drag the twit into the afterworld and make her constant yammering on the phone disappear for good.
Fingers slipped between hers, clamping down hard, startling her out of her thoughts, and she was surprised to see her shadow shrinking back to normal. She’d been completely unaware that her thoughts were being put into action.
The past merged with the present—weeks of training vanished—and she flinched. She yanked on her hand, waiting to be punished for using her gifts without permission, waiting for pain to take away her ability to breathe or even think.
