Fighter Page 4

  Now they just had to find a way out of here.

  “You can speak with him later. Right now, he is suffering some of the effects of a calming potion.”

  “Why?”

  “He was a bit anxious, naturally, and it was annoying.”

  “Nothing permanent?”

  “No. I assure you, it will wear off in an hour or so.”

  Anastasia drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Dakota was alive, and that was all that mattered.

  Obviously, Vincent wanted something from her, or she would be dead, so for now they were safe. She would find a way to get them both out of there as soon as she could.

  “Walk now? We have much to discuss.”

  She nodded and warily followed Vincent out onto the dock.

  “Why all the guns? You were obviously able to keep anyone outside of Seattle from discovering your destruction here, so why do you need all these weapons?”

  “My magic can only stretch so far. If I am to achieve my goals, then I will need the firepower to back them up. It’s just a precaution.”

  “So, you did cloak the city.”

  “That I did. I have learned quite a bit over the course of my lifetime… knowledge I would love to share with you.”

  “Not interested.”

  “You will be.”

  “Unlikely.”

  Vincent laughed. “You are so much like your father.”

  Anastasia ignored his comment, afraid a conversation about Gregory might force her to snap. “So, what do you want?”

  “To discuss an alliance.”

  “I don’t want an alliance.”

  “That would be foolish,” he said, dismissing her statement with the flick of his wrist. “Seattle is only the beginning, Anastasia. There will be nowhere for you to hide should you choose to become my enemy. The only reason you are still breathing is because I have high hopes for what we could accomplish together.”

  “You want the country.”

  “Think bigger, Anastasia.”

  “The world?”

  His eyes flashed with delight. “All of them.”

  “Why?”

  “Why else? Power. Isn’t that reason enough?” He regarded her, his eyebrows raised. “I see that, in your opinion, it isn’t. Not to worry, you will see soon.”

  “I will never understand how someone could murder innocent people just to gain power.”

  “Would you not kill in order to protect him?” he asked, gesturing toward the warehouse. “Did you not murder Ophelia and Maximus?”

  “They were not innocent people,” she growled. “For a guy who just lost two of his protégé, you don’t seem too worked up about it.”

  “It is unfortunate that Maximus is dead. As I mentioned before, I would have killed Ophelia myself for what she did to my brother.” He eyed her, his eyes more silver than they had been before. “You would do well not to push me, Anastasia.”

  “I am not a murderer.”

  “Did you not come here expecting to kill for something?”

  “Dakota is not something, he is someone. There is a difference.”

  “Not to me. You love Dakota; I love power. People do crazy things for those they love.”

  Anastasia placed her hand on the railing and looked out over the water. “Power does not hold value the way life does.”

  Vincent shook his head. “You will see soon, Anastasia, just how wrong you are.”

  “You keep saying that, but I will never see things the way you do. I will never go dark.”

  Vincent laughed wildly. “Turn dark? Oh, child, how blind you truly are. There is no dark and light; there is only power and more power. My brother was too foolish to see that he could have had it all had he only embraced what he already was. We couldn’t have been given this gift if we weren’t meant to use it.”

  “What you have is not a gift. You sold your soul. Hell, you’re weird ass eyes are evidence enough of that.”

  “So naïve,” he spat. He looked past her, and she turned to see some Brutes standing behind her. “I have something to attend to. You may go and see your Dakota now, but don’t be so foolish as to try escaping. I find my tolerance for you is wearing thin.”

  Vincent walked away, his Brutes following him like the good little lapdogs they were. The moment he was out of sight, she bolted for Dakota. She looked through the window as she passed, confirming that his head was still down, his bare chest unmarred.

  When she stepped inside, however, the scene before her was entirely different.

  She gasped and ran to Dakota’s side. He was tied to a chair with his head down, but that was where the similarities ended. Blood covered his tattered chest. They’d beaten him, with a fucking belt. Bile curdled in her stomach. They will pay.

  “Mitch,” she growled, then she shook Dakota. “Dakota!”

  His eyes, swollen from whatever beating had been inflicted on him, fluttered open and he looked down at her kneeling beside him.

  “You shouldn’t have come, Ana.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Dakota, you would have done the same for me. Can you walk?”

  She moved behind him and untied his hands.

  “I think so.” He tried to stand, and she secured herself beside him, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders to help carry some of his weight.

  Securing herself beneath his arm, she whispered, “We have to go now.”

  They crept out the door, and Anastasia scanned the area for any Brutes that might try to stop them. Oddly enough, it appeared as if the entire warehouse was empty. Whether this was a trap or just a random stroke of luck, they had limited time, so Anastasia guided Dakota toward a side door that led into the woods behind the warehouse as quickly as possible.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Mitch stepped into view, blocking their exit. “I told him you were more trouble than you were worth.” He pointed a gun at her and smiled. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

  “If you kill me, Vincent will not be happy,” she said, trying to buy them some time.

  “I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to kill him.” He moved the gun over a few inches, aiming it at Dakota, then pulled the trigger—

  Anastasia shoved Dakota out of the way, but the bullet tore into his abdomen, and he crumpled to the floor.

  “No!” she screamed. Using her magic, she threw Mitch out of their way.

  “Dakota, come on, we have to go!” She applied pressure to the wound in his side and lifted him again. He was miraculously still able to walk some, and she used that, coupled with a bit of magic, to move them quickly into the woods. She was beginning to feel the drain though, and knew if they didn’t get somewhere safe, they were screwed.

  “Leave me, Ana.”

  “I'm not leaving you! We just have to get back to the city. Someone will help us there.” She cried as she pushed through the trees.

  They walked for about ten minutes until they entered a clearing.

  “No,” Anastasia cried as she took in the scene before her. At least two-dozen Brutes stood in the center of the small clearing, and when she turned, she saw that more had moved in behind her. They were trapped.

  She moved to the center and gently set Dakota down.

  “Keep pressure on that, Dakota.” He’d used the last healing vile on her arm, so there was nothing she could do to help him right now. Not unless they got to safety.

  She unwrapped the brown cloth from her sword as two brutes charged toward her. Anastasia screamed and slashed out with her sword, catching one of the Brutes in the leg with the sharp blade.

  It howled in pain and fell to its knees, and Anastasia swung up again, taking the head clean off. The other Brute lunged at her, and she slid in the dirt beside it to duck beneath the blow.

  She pushed back up quickly, driving the blade into the beast’s back.

  Three more Brutes attacked, but Anastasia held her ground, taking each of them down in turn.

  “Ana, you
have to go!” Dakota cried.

  She did her best to ignore him. There was no fucking way she would leave him. His life was more important than her own.

  “Why do you fight, baby bird?” a deep voice grumbled from the sideline.

  “You will die,” another Brute said.

  Anastasia dodged another blow and stabbed upward, splattering herself with Brute blood as she slit its abdomen open.

  Not able to get her sword up in time, Anastasia blasted the closer Brutes with magic, sending their ashy remains floating on the breeze.

  “Anyone else want a piece of me?” she screamed. “Come on, you fucking cowards!”

  She wasn’t sure what had changed, but her power seemed deeper now, more available than ever before, and she dove into it, letting the pool fill her up and absorb the rage hammering through her body.

  She blasted two Brutes who stood on the sideline, and smiled when they disappeared. Oh, the power! She dove further down into the recesses of her mind, reaching for what would help her destroy them all.

  “Ana!”

  Dakota’s voice brought her back to reality for a moment, and she turned to face him. Blood had pooled on the ground beneath him; he didn’t have long. Their mission wasn’t complete, though. Vincent still lived, and she wasn’t leaving until he was dead.

  Anastasia conjured a portal and walked to Dakota.

  “Get help,” she said softly.

  “Let’s go.”

  Anastasia closed her eyes, the power was calling to her, begging her to absorb it. “I can’t go with you, Dakota.”

  “Ana, you can’t stay.” He winced as she helped him to his feet.

  “I have no choice.” She refused to take what she was feeling back to Terrenia.

  “Who cares?” A voice whispered to her. “You are power, they should revere you!”

  Two Brutes charged, and Anastasia spun to launch twin orbs of power at them both. I will kill them all.

  “Go!” She flung Dakota into the light, then quickly closed the portal behind him, turning to stare at the enemies that still surrounded her.

  “Come on, then,” she beckoned them.

  As they stepped toward her, slowly closing the circle, she allowed the rest of her power to seep into her consciousness, the good, the bad, the light, the dark; it didn’t matter. Everything she had blazed through her now and she was unstoppable. I am power.

  “There you are.” Vincent appeared in front of her, pride alight in his silver-blue eyes.

  She smiled slowly. “You made a mistake.” Her voice sounded alien, even to her.

  “Oh? And what was that?”

  “Now I can kill you.” Anastasia held up her palm. Vincent’s eyes widened slightly. “You could try. But then you’d never be able to learn from me. Don’t you feel that power, Anastasia? Think about how much more you could have!”

  “She is useless, Vincent. Didn’t I tell you that?” Mitch stepped up beside him, and Anastasia cocked her head to the side.

  “Ah, here it is, just in time.” Vincent shoved Mitch forward and crossed his arms. “A gift. For my niece.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Mitch looked back at Vincent, then turned to face Anastasia, his eyes as wide as saucers.

  Anastasia took a step closer to him. “Tell me, Mitch, are you afraid?” No longer feeling like herself, but better. As if there was nothing holding her back. How freeing it was to feel powerful! She could practically taste his fear on her tongue, and it was delicious.

  “Of you? Please.” He pulled a gun from the back of his pants and aimed it at her.

  Anastasia laughed as she flung her hand out and the gun was ripped away from him. She moved her other hand, motioning to the ground, and Mitch was forced to his knees.

  “Do you have any idea what you put me through?” she asked. “Even after I moved out, I was still terrified every single day.” Anastasia moved around him and gripped his hair in her hand. His head yanked back and she looked into those horribly evil eyes. Eyes that had tormented her every single day for the last twenty-six years.

  “What the hell do you think you’re going to do to me?”

  “I’m going to kill you.” Anastasia brought him back to his feet. “Goodbye, Mitch.” She shoved her hand against his chest. Power flowed through her palm into his body, and with a flash of light, he turned into ash.

  She stared for a moment at her hand. Why didn’t she feel anything?

  “Want more?” Vincent took a step closer.

  Anastasia continued staring down at her palm, then turned to face the Brutes behind her. Her eyes landed on the bloodstain where Dakota had been only moments before.

  Dakota.

  What had she done? Her power pulled back, making her feel empty, and Anastasia fell to her knees.

  “No.” Vincent scolded. “Get up!”

  She was exhausted, completely and totally drained, and when she tried to use her power against Vincent, it barely made a scratch.

  “No!” He howled in rage and raised both hands, lifting her into the air, then promptly dropping her body back onto the dirt. She scrambled for her sword, but it was just out of reach. “I will bring you back,” he growled. He raised his fist and brought it swiftly down through the air, slamming her body flat against the ground.

  11

  Terrenia

  Dakota

  Dakota hit something hard, then slid to the ground. The movement drove the bullet deeper into his torso and he bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from crying out.

  “What the hell?” Tony hollered.

  “Dakota!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Oh, Dakota! You’re bleeding! Tony I need my kit! It’s over by the desk.”

  Dakota groaned as pain throbbed through his body. “Ana. We have to go back.”

  “What happened? Where’s Anastasia?” Tony asked him as he returned with the black medical bag.

  Elizabeth went to work on his wound, and she shushed them both. “I need quiet. We can talk in a minute.”

  Dakota’s vision began to waver, but he shook his head slightly.

  “Dakota, hold still!” his mother yelled.

  “Stay with us, Dakota,” Tony pleaded.

  “Go get Tilly; I need an extra set of hands.”

  Tony disappeared and Dakota tried to stay focused. The pain seared through his veins, causing his entire body to begin to shake.

  “He’s going into shock.” A woman rushed over; had he heard her voice before? “Shit, he’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “Mom.”

  “Don’t you say anything to me, Dakota George. You aren’t going any damn where.”

  Dakota smiled slightly and lay his head back.

  “Let me take over, Elizabeth,” the woman said.

  “Yes, I think that would be best.” Elizabeth moved aside to cradle Dakota’s head. “You better not die, Dakota George.”

  “Tony, give him some of that whiskey,” Tilly instructed, and the room stayed quiet as she worked.

  “Agh!” he cried out when something dove into the bullet wound.

  “I’m sorry, Dakota, I have to get this bullet out. Tony, hold him down.”

  Tony pressed down on Dakota, but when she did whatever the hell it was she’d done again, he writhed in pain.

  “I need more help! Elizabeth, grab Shane and Andrew.”

  “We need to hold him down, Lizzie,” Tony shouted. Dakota’s mother must not have moved. “Your boy is tough; I can’t do it alone.”

  “Okay.” His mother’s voice was just above a whisper as she gingerly lay his head on the floor.

  A door slammed somewhere far away. .

  “Shit, this is deep. And what the hell’s with those marks on his chest?” Tilly asked.

  “Belt,” Dakota ground out through clenched teeth.

  “Here, boy. Drink.” Tony held the bottle of whiskey to his lips and he took a drink.

  “Not too much,” Tilly chided. “Let’s not thin the blood.”

  Dakota bar
ely noted the burn in his throat from the alcohol, the sharp pain in his side nearly too much to bear. He’d been shot before—once, after responding to a call regarding a domestic dispute—but the bullet had gone straight through his shoulder, and he’d had anesthetic when they’d stitched him up. This was much worse. This shit hurt like hell. It felt like every single nerve in his body was on fire.

  The door slammed open and Dakota looked over to see his mother rushing toward him, Shane and Andrew in tow. Shane’s eyes pierced Dakota, a silent accusation in them.

  “What do you need?” he asked Tony.

  “I need you both to hold a leg. Tilly needs to get that bullet out.”

  Dakota felt the pressure of the two men on his legs, since Tony held down his chest.

  Elizabeth kneeled, lifting his head back into her lap. Tears streaked down her cheeks. She pressed both hands to the sides of his face and smiled down at him.

  “Okay, here we go,” Tilly said.

  Sharp pain ricocheted through his body, stemming from his abdomen, burning from the inside out, but with the men holding him down, and his own stubbornness, he managed to stay still enough that he heard the plink of something metal in a container.

  “Got it,” Tilly said.

  Dakota closed his eyes.

  “Thank you,” Tony said.

  “Let’s get you stitched up.” As Tilly set to work on the bullet’s entry wound, Dakota began to drift. Thoughts of Ana flooded his mind as the pain pushed him into the black depths of unconsciousness.

  12

  Anastasia

  Anastasia stood in the center of her stone prison, a chain around one ankle holding her in place. Anytime she tried to access her magic, it failed. A spark that wouldn’t quite catch flame, but physically, she was ready.

  Magic or no magic, she would destroy them all.

  The door creaked as it opened, and Vincent stepped inside. He was alone, his face a grim portrayal of what was to come. He wanted to turn her, to make her dark like he was, but there was no way in hell she was going down that path—not again. The dark mark from killing Mitch still remained on her soul, she had no intention of making it larger.