Page 73 of Ransomed to the World
“Huh?” She stared at him blankly, her attention on his lips, and he let out a huff of laughter.
“Let’s test the blades to make sure they work.” He turned his hand over and the dagger plummeted to the ground. With a twitch of his fingers, the afterworld ripped open and the blade vanished in a puff of dark smoke.
Annora swiped her hand through the air in that spot, her fingertips prickling like she ran it over a brush. She was tempted to reach her hand inside the afterworld, but held back. “Can I follow the trail?”
Edgar grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. “I want to say no, but if you can feel the scattered particles, it might be possible. Some phantoms can track, but it’s a rare talent. It can be dangerous too, if the tracker doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
He released her slowly, his fingers trailing along the inside of her wrist. “Call the knife to you.”
She frowned up at him, not having a clue how to do what he asked. “How?”
“The same way you can sense the grimoire or Prem.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “It’s a part of you.”
Well, that didn’t make it any clearer.
When she went to step into the afterworld, Edgar shook his head. “That requires time you might not always have. Don’t search for it. Call it to you.”
Annora scowled, but knew he was correct. A couple of seconds could be the difference between life or death, and she couldn’t take that chance. Edgar had told her she controlled the afterworld, that if she wanted something badly enough, it would obey.
She held out her hand and pictured the dagger in her mind. Darkness twirled eagerly between her fingers, then gathered in her palm, the mass swirling wildly. It thickened until a heavy weight settled on her palm. Her fingers closed around the warm metal, and she’d swear it gave a hum of approval.
Her eyes popped open, and she couldn’t hold back her grin. “I did it!”
Edgar grunted, but there was a slight curl to his lips that betrayed his pleasure. “Now you need to practice. Do it again and again until it becomes second nature. Instinct.”
He held out his arm straight from his body, his sword seeming to appear out of thin air. Even as he lowered his arm, the metal dissolved into smoke and dissipated like a wisp of steam off a lake.
“Show-off,” she grumbled under her breath.
“Annora—”
“Thank you, Edgar.” She vanished the weapons. “I will treasure them.”
“You’re welcome.” He straightened and ran a hand down his buttoned shirt, giving her a distracted nod. “The rest of the guys are waiting topside for us.”
“I’m going to run to the bathroom first. I’ll meet you on the deck.” She peered down the hallway, then glanced back at him, biting her lip. “Please tell me they have a functional bathroom and not a pot?” She had quickly become accustomed to modern amenities
He cracked a grin, then pointed down the hall. “Around the corner, the last door.”
She flashed him a smile and hurried away, relieved when she opened the bathroom door and saw running water. She’d spent too many years peeing into a pot to ever want to go back.
She entered and closed the door behind her, her lungs seizing at the tiny space. She avoided the mirror and hurried through the task. The boat dipped and swayed more, tossing her around the small room, her anxiety to get back to the others increasing. Every second she was locked away made the room feel more like a prison.
She scratched at the latch to the door, all but falling out of the bathroom in her need to escape.
And nearly ran over the stranger standing in the hallway.
Strong hands gripped her shoulders, holding her steady when the ship bucked. Her skin crawled at having a stranger touch her, his hold unbreakable, and images flashed in her mind of her uncle as he dragged her back to her cell for one of his punishments. No matter how much she kicked and fought, she couldn’t break free.
It was only when the stranger released her and backed away, his hands raised in the air, that she recognized the captain. He looked a lot younger up close, maybe a few years older than her. Being out at the sea had weathered him a little, his tan complexion making him even more handsome, giving him a pirate look that most women found sexy. Though he had broad shoulders and lean hips, he was a bit rough around the edges.
“Are you okay?” He studied at her cautiously, and it took her a moment to realize she’d unconsciously called her blades to her. They were warm in her grip, the metal shimmering with so much dark matter that she could almost see it move over the metal.
She released the daggers, blowing out a breath when they vanished, and gave him a brittle smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”
But when she tried to edge around him, he mimicked her and blocked the narrow passageway. Annora immediately backed up and thudded against the bathroom door behind her. The darkness stirred inside her, and she struggled to keep it contained.
He was the captain.
