Page 77 of Shackled to the World
It was the thought of Annora waiting for him that finally got him moving.
She was in danger.
She needed him.
Gritting his teeth, he clutched the tire iron to his chest and eased open the lid, then dragged himself out, nearly falling on his face before catching himself on the lip of the trunk. He staggered upright, suppressing a groan as his ribs and spine protested.
Then he tightened his grip on the tire iron and staggered off toward the sounds of fighting. His body didn’t seem to work right, lurching instead of running smoothly, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Darkness surrounded him, ready and waiting to swallow him if he failed. His eyes were nearly swollen shut from his recent beating, and he could barely see a dozen feet straight ahead.
Despite the pain, he pushed forward, putting one foot in front of the other for only one reason…Annora.
If it was the last thing he did, he would destroy anyone who thought to harm her, even if it took his last breath to do it.
* * *
Annora felt solid ground under her feet, but it didn’t keep her legs from buckling and dumping her on her ass. Kevin landed more gracefully, like he was stepping through a doorway, while she seemed to trip over the invisible stoop.
She glared up at him. “You could’ve warned a girl.”
“Sorry.” He grimaced and offered her a hand. “The landing takes a bit of getting used to. Those with a bigger affinity for magic are more affected by the ride.”
She accepted his hand, grunting noncommittally at his comment, not sure how much of her magic was from her mother and how much was just normal for phantoms. Either way, portalling sucked donkey balls.
The din of battle filled the clearing, and she whirled, charging through the trees, climbing up a small hill to reach the peak…and stopped dead. The entire battlefield was stretched out before her, the full moon illuminating everything in all its gory, devastating details. She quickly spotted the guys as they tore through the army with an ease that she envied. They were amazing to watch.
Mason smashed his way through his opponents, while Xander seemed to glide from one fight to the next, landing only long enough to eliminate the threat and soaring on to his next target. What freaked her out was the way Camden walked through battle with no fucking weapons at all. He wore his full armor from his lizard form, using his touch to knock out any who got within reach, and the wicked sharp spikes at his elbows to slice through the more stubborn opponents.
Each of the guys was fast and efficient in his takedowns, shouting orders as they moved onto their next targets. They remained in a group, often working back-to-back to protect the unit.
No wonder Greenwood considered them the best.
She couldn’t hold back the awe and love that swamped her, unaware she was broadcasting until the guys’ emotions flooded her…relief at knowing she was alive, fear and worry for her. Then they redoubled their efforts with one shared goal—no one touched her.
Camden shouted orders to the surrounding teams, and the soldiers surged toward Erickson’s location. To her surprise, Sadie was in the midst of the battle, her sword swinging, lopping off limbs of any who dared get too near the guys, but sticking especially close to Edgar as he waded fearlessly through the battle. They moved like they’d fought together many times, and Annora shrugged away the pang of jealousy, refusing to let it distract her.
The witches hung back, performing spells to keep the shifters from transforming into their animal counterparts. Anyone who dared get too close was doused in a spell that melted whatever it hit, the magic dirty, but very effective. The rest were on the outskirts, shielding the whole battlefield with a dome to keep the sounds of war contained and discourage the wrong sort of people from investigating.
Erickson’s men fought hand-to-hand. They weren’t as efficient as the trained teams, but what they lacked in skill they made up for in sheer numbers and determination. A few of the larger shifters hung back, protecting Erickson.
While the director remained in his human form, there was nothing human about him in the way he picked up one of the wolves fighting nearby and ripped him to shreds with just his not-quite human teeth and claws.
It only took seconds to end a life.
She searched the teeming masses for Logan, but she couldn’t see him anywhere—there were just too many people, too much movement for her to be able to track everything. Anxiety tightened her throat at the possibility that she might be too late.
Near their perch, one of Greenwood’s men went down under a pile of bodies. Annora glanced at Kevin, but he was watching his brother struggle to fight off two wolves at the same time. “Go.”
Kevin hesitated another moment, indecision twisting his face, then gave a nod. “You better not die on me.”
It was a demand and a plea.
He was off before she could reply.
Then there was no more time to think or watch.
Cursing herself for her lack of weapons, she grabbed a sharp rock and hefted it, testing the weight, before she charged into battle. She grabbed one shifter, still in human form, by his hair, wrenched his head back and brought down the rock sharp and fast, ignoring the threatening flash of his fangs. The meaty thunk sounded juicy. His eyes rolled back into his head and he dropped to the ground with a grunt.
Unfortunately, he would be back in action in a few minutes.
