Page 33 of Shackled to the World
What she didn’t expect was for him to collect the paintball guns and hit each of the downed wolves with the requisite four shots to show they were dead. “Mason?”
“We must eliminate the threat.” He shrugged those broad shoulders of his, completely unconcerned that he would’ve murdered four people in cold blood. “If they were really after us, if it came to choosing between you and them, I wouldn’t take any chances.”
She tucked away her squeamishness.
He was right.
The kind of people who took Logan didn’t deserve her mercy.
“Where to next, boss?” Edgar asked, while Mason wrapped the straps of one of the guns around his forearm. He offered one to Edgar, who looked intrigued, but ultimately waved it away. When Mason raised a brow at her, lifting up a gun in offer, she too declined.
“I have no training with guns. It would be more of a distraction.” Then she focused on Edgar’s question. “Since no alarm has been sounded, I say we avoid the hallways, move from room to room in a straight line, and clear as many as we can before they catch on to what we’re doing.”
It was a gamble not to head directly for the rest of her men, but she needed more practice, and the team needed time to fall into a rhythm of working together. In under an hour, they’d cleared most of the basement and collected the rest of the team members.
She also discovered that only one person at a time could follow in her wake. If she wanted to take more than one person with her, she needed to travel with them into the afterworld. She could keep the portal open and reach back for them, but it was taxing.
They were nearing the exit of the pit, but their escape had been discovered. The rest of the people hunting them would be waiting, and now they were prepared for her tricks.
A single wall separated them from their freedom.
The guys had various bruises, a few of them had paint shots—herself included, when she was shot in the back by none other than Vicki, and another one to the shoulder when Loulou gave her a disarming smile and shot her point-blank.
That shit hurt!
She almost felt bad for grabbing the gun and shooting Loulou four times to take her out. No way in hell could she punch her best friend. Thankfully, Lionel wasn’t in the same room, so she was still alive and not shredded about the room in itty-bitty pieces.
Nearly everyone who broke free from Erickson’s lab volunteered today. Lionel and more than a few members of his pack joined as well. Overall, there were more than forty people who participated in the training session.
She was exhausted from avoiding the afterworld and dragging the guys with her, sweat plastering her shirt to her, her hair snarled and matted. She was reaching her breaking point, but kept her mouth shut. They were close to the end. They would win, and she’d finally prove to herself that she could keep her guys safe.
While the guys noticed her deterioration, taking the lead more and more, they didn’t protest or call it quits. Their trust in her pulled her back from the brink, their nearness having a calming effect.
She’d take the exhaustion and bruises over the anger and despair that had been threatening to consume her, the aches keeping her from going off the deep end.
Pain meant she was alive.
Pain kept her focused on the task that needed to be done.
As the men discussed options, she studied the last wall separating her from freedom. “Edgar…can we manipulate inanimate objects?”
As if seeing the direction of her thoughts, he shook his head. “Not normally, not without calling on the afterworld.”
So not only could she not see into the other room without being spotted, she couldn’t pull the guys in with her. Edgar was adamant that she refrain from entering the afterworld, and it was taking its toll on her mind and body.
She could feel it reaching for her, brushing against her, tempting her to just take a little, like an addict, and she was practically shaking with need. It was like someone was pressing on her chest, cutting off her air supply, allowing her just enough to function with only half her senses.
Mason gave her a broad smile and nudged her aside, cracking his knuckles as he did, his arms bulging. “My turn, pretty one.” He pressed his fingertips against the wall, the paneling bowing under his touch, and he smiled. “I got this one.”
Camden rubbed his jaw, his head cocked. “They’ll be expecting us to come through the walls.” He walked toward the door and placed his hand on the knob. “I say we send Edgar and Annora to pop into the center of the room, and then the rest of us will just walk through the door.”
“We’re at the end…I could just open up the afterworld and transport us all to the stairs.” When the guys looked at each other, she knew they were going to say no, and she barely resisted the urge to stomp her foot. “You’re asking me to fight with my hands tied behind my back while you guys are able to use your full shifter abilities—why deny my abilities when it could help us win...and possibly save us later?”
She understood their fears, but she refused to allow it to control her.
Edgar edged in front of her. “Because this is practice. You’re getting better and faster each time you use your abilities. What happens if you use your abilities and the phantoms find you? What will happen to Logan and your men then?”
“Fine.” She pursed her lips, hating that he was right. It was just so damn frustrating. “What about you? Why are you allowed to use your normal abilities?”
