“Not exactly.”
Dakota tried to hide the disappointment in his eyes, but Carmen was quick, and she noticed it.
“She is alive. I can’t pinpoint whether she is here or in your Seattle, but she is alive and is not currently aware of her surroundings.”
“What do you mean, not aware of her surroundings?”
“Vincent has her in some form of trance, whether it’s because he feels threatened by her or he has ulterior motives I’m not sure, but either way it’s not a good thing.”
“How can we figure out which dimension she is in?”
“That’s just it, it’s not one of the fifteen. That’s why I say she must be in some sort of a trance somewhere that exists but is not one of the fifteen dimensions.”
“Could there be sixteen?” Dakota asked. “One that we didn’t know about?”
“No,” Argento answered, and Dakota looked at him. “He must have her in a stasis.”
“Stasis?” Dakota asked, confused.
“It’s something we Brutes do when we are having difficulties with a decision, or if we need to deal with a complex emotion such as grief. We go to one of our healers and they put us in a stasis where our minds can be manipulated to make a decision and see all possible outcomes for it. We can also see those who have passed, and it helps us to move forward.”
“Is she aware of what is happening?” Dakota asked, feeling the fear setting in.
“It depends on how he is manipulating her. She could very well be aware and he could be putting her through various tortures without the risk of killing her, or he could be weaving a scenario to help her to make an important decision.”
Argento saw the anger on Dakota’s face and immediately continued, “I apologize for my candor, but I do not see the benefit in lying to you.”
“I appreciate you being honest, Argento.”
“That makes sense as to why I can’t reach her mind again. He must be using your tactic in an effort to hide her from me. How would he have learned this practice?”
“It’s something that my captain would have been well versed on. His father was one of our greatest healers.”
“Is there a way to find her?”
“I’m afraid not, Dakota.” Argento touched Dakota’s shoulder and looked at Carmen. “One of my warriors is a healer; I will send him to you and you can speak to him. He may know something I do not.”
“Thank you, Argento.” Carmen turned to leave the cottage, and Dakota slammed his fists on the table.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Dakota, you love her.” Argento said it, and although the word love sounded strange coming from his mouth, Dakota knew there was emotion behind it.
“Yes, I do.”
“I knew love once. It is a painful and frustrating emotion. One that can both lift you up and knock you down, make you strong and yet can be your greatest weakness. I do not care for weakness.” Argento smiled at Dakota. “But I would take the weakness in an instant if I knew I could feel love again.”
“Thank you, Argento.” Dakota nodded and took a deep breath. They would find her, he knew, and at least they had the comfort of knowing she was alive for now.
“We need to attack tonight,” Argento told him and Tony later. “These camps will be the first on our assault on Vincent.” Argento and his warriors had painted half of their faces red in an effort to separate themselves from the traitors.
As strange as it sounded, the Brutes had managed to actually fit in with the villagers. The healer they had brought with them was working alongside Carmen and Elizabeth, and the others were helping with fortifying the defenses and harvesting the crops. They had been with the village for nearly two weeks, and it seemed like it had been much longer.
“We will come in from the front.” Tony ran his finger up the map following the trail. “You and half of your men flank from the right, and the others from the left. We will leave a group to trail on behind the camp in case any try and escape. We don’t want to leave any witnesses for Vincent. No one needs to know that we are working together, at least not just yet.” Tony and Argento shared a warrior’s smile, one that promised the total annihilation of their enemy.
“We should leave in an hour,” Dakota said, and Tony and Argento both nodded in agreement.
“Dakota, please be careful.” Elizabeth sat across from Dakota at the small kitchen table. She watched as he carefully and methodically checked and then rechecked his pistols. He was so much like his father that at times it hurt her heart to look at him. No matter how long he was gone, George would always be the love of her life.
“Mom, it will be fine.” He set his weapons down and reached across to hold her hand. “We have Argento and the other Brutes with us as well. We have this one.”
“I just have a really bad feeling that something awful is coming. I can’t lose you too, Dakota.” Tears began to run down her face, and he stood to pull her into a hug.
“You’re not going to lose me, Mom. I'm far too stubborn to go anywhere.” Dakota laughed and released her.
“Just be careful, please.”
“I will, I promise.”
“Would you look after Tony as well?” The tone in her voice had him smiling.
“I promise, Mom.”
“That’s my boy. I love you.”
“I love you too. We will be back by morning.”
“You better be.”
She said a prayer as he walked out of the house, just as she had every single day of his life.
“Hi, I have an appointment this afternoon, my husband made it for me.” Anastasia stood nervous in front of the receptionist’s desk in the small office.
“Name, please?” the woman asked without even looking up from her keyboard. There wasn’t a single hair out of place in her red bun.
“Anastasia Parker.”
“Anastasia, so nice to finally meet you.”
The voice sent ice up her spine, and she turned slowly to face Dakota’s colleague. She backed up as far against the desk as she could get and had the receptionist huffing at her.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Parker?” Vincent asked worriedly, and took a step towards her.
“Yes, I’m sorry, I’m fine. I-I just need a moment.”
“Dakota warned me about your episodes. Come with me and we can talk about it.” He reached his hand out for hers and she pushed further back, knocking over one of the photos on the desk.
“Excuse me,” the receptionist said rudely.
“I'm so sorry.” Anastasia picked the photo back up and then turned to face Vincent. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“There is nothing to be sorry about, Mrs. Parker. These things happen. Dakota had told me that you were having trouble discerning fiction from reality as of late. Come with me and we can speak about it.” He held his hand out again, and this time she took cautious steps towards him.
“It’s not real, it’s not real,” she muttered to herself as images of Vincent attacking her popped into her head.
“Have a seat.” He motioned to a couch that was seated across from a large desk.
Anastasia couldn’t seem to calm herself. Vincent kept flashing between the psychiatrist that stood before her and the hooded villain she knew him as. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt tears slide out. She tried to steady her heartbeat, but it only picked up. Black spots began to show in her vision, and she knew that if she didn’t calm herself soon, she was going to pass out.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Parker?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath and managed to gain some minor control.
“No need to apologize here, no judgment will be passed on you within these walls.” He took a seat in a chair next to the sofa and pulled out a notepad. “So tell me what is going on.”
A voice inside Anastasia’s head kept telling her not to trust him, not to tell him a thing and to run away from this place as fast as she could, but she kept picturing Annabelle and Dakota. They were all that
were keeping her grounded.
“I’ve been writing a book.”
“So I’ve been told. Tell me about it.”
She took a deep breath and continued, ignoring him. “I woke up two days ago and couldn’t remember anything from my life. Instead, my memories had been replaced with those of the heroine in my story. I can’t remember the day I married Dakota or the birth of my daughter.” Tears began streaming down her face. “Am I going crazy?”
“It is not unheard of for an author to be so entwined with their story that they begin to lose sight of their life. What you need to do is remove yourself from this story and the rest will come back to you.”
“Remove myself?”
“Yes.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Delete it, admit openly that you are not this heroine and that you do not possess magical powers.” He laughed lightly and leaned forward in his chair.
“I never said she had magical powers.” Anastasia’s voice calmed, and she felt pieces coming together. Had any of this been real?
“I must have heard Dakota speaking about it,” he brushed it off and sat back again.
A knock at the door had her head turning.
“She wanted to see you.” Dakota walked in carrying Annabelle.
“Hi Mommy!” Annabelle laughed and came running towards her.
“How is the session going?” Dakota asked her, and sat down on the couch.
“It’s going well, wouldn’t you say, Anastasia?” Vincent looked at her, and she nodded slightly.
“Vincent was telling me that I needed to remove myself from my story and that if I did so then my memories would begin to come back.”
“That sounds like a good thing.” Dakota smiled widely and Anastasia’s heart cracked.
“Mommy, that would mean there would be so much more time for us!” Annabelle grinned and clapped her hands.
“Yes it would, baby.” Anastasia smiled, but the tears began to fall. She looked up and in the mirror she saw the reflection that pulled her from the illusion. Her Dakota stood watching her from the mirror. He wore jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, not scrubs. He had a shoulder holster with two handguns instead of a stethoscope.
“Come back to me, Ana,” she heard him say in her head. “I am what’s real.”
Anastasia closed her eyes tightly and stood, gently setting Annabelle to the side. She was giving up everything she had ever wanted in her life. And for what? So she could continue to fight? But she knew that this wasn’t reality. She needed to get back to whatever was real regardless of the consequences.
“Dakota is a cop.”
“What?” The Dakota that sat before her laughed. “Anastasia, I really think we need to do what Vincent said. You need to erase that book and admit that you are not the heroine of this story.”
“He never calls me Anastasia.”
“Ana, come on.”
Anastasia backed towards the door.
“Mommy, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”
“I’m so sorry, Annabelle. I will have you one day.”
“What are you talking about? Daddy, what is Mommy doing?” Annabelle started crying. “Please just do what Vincent said! Just erase the book, Mommy! We will play!”
“This isn’t real.” But it felt very real to her. Anastasia felt her heart being ripped out of her chest, and she knew that she would never be the same. “This isn’t real,” she repeated. “I am Anastasia Silvan, daughter of Gregory and Annabelle Silvan. I was kidnapped by my uncle, Vincent Silvan, and sent to live with Mitch and Monica Carter.”
“Mommy!” Annabelle yelled.
“Ana, don’t do this!”
“You can stay with us, Mommy!”
“Mitch was abusive, but I lived next door to Dakota Carter and his parents, George and Elizabeth. My father came for me and brought me to Terrenia. I have magic. I am going to beat Vincent.” She relayed everything that she knew to be truth and tried to drown out the sound of Annabelle’s sobbing and Dakota’s anger.
The cold returned, and she knew that whatever spell she had been under had been broken. She opened her eyes and saw the four damp walls that had surrounded her for what felt like an eternity. Anastasia curled into the corner and cried for the loss that she had suffered.
They had caught the Brutes off guard and spent the evening tearing through the camp. Dakota had fought side by side with Tony, and they had managed to take down nearly two dozen between the two of them. There had been a significant increase in force from what their scout had seen when they had originally mapped out the area.
“How are your people?” Argento asked as they reconvened in the center of the camp.
“No losses or serious injury. Yours?”
“We are fine as well. I am disappointed in the number of traitors I had in my ranks.”
One of Argento’s warriors came up and whispered something to him. His eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dakota.
“Come, now.”
Dakota and Tony ran after Argento and the other Brute until they came up on a small trapdoor. It would have barely been noticeable in the daylight, and had it not been for the Brutes’ extra sensitive eyes, they may not have ever found it.
“What is it?” Dakota asked, studying Argento’s face.
“I believe that we have found your Anastasia.”
“What?” The adrenaline began pumping through his veins again as he reached for the door.
Argento grabbed his arm. “Be careful, Dakota, you do not know what she has been put through. It may be best to let my healer go in first.”
“Absolutely not. No offense to you, but the traitors have been who she has been with. She does not know anything about our friendship, so your warriors will only put her on the defense. It’s best for everyone involved if I go in.”
“Agreed,” Tony seconded, and folded his arms over his chest.
“Very well.” Argento released him. “I am pleased to hear that you consider us friends. I do as well.”
Dakota nodded and lifted the hatch. “Ana?” Dakota started to run to the small form huddled in the corner of the tiny room, but when she pulled away from him, he slowed down. “Ana, it’s Dakota.”
“This is just another trick,” he heard her whisper.
“No, baby, it’s not. I’m here. Tony is here as well.”
“Tony?” He had been the only person who had not been in her illusion. Could it be that Vincent did not know his face? Couldn’t form an illusion based on him?
“Yes, Tony is here.”
“I want to see him,” she demanded, sinking further into the dark. She couldn’t risk seeing his face. If it was another illusion, she wasn’t sure she would survive the temptation.
“I will get him.” Dakota tried to hide the hurt in his voice as he looked at Tony, who stood at the top of the stairs.
“I only want Tony.”
Dakota nodded and stepped out of the cellar.
“Anastasia?” Tony stepped into the dark and moved slowly towards the corner where she was.
“Tony?”
“I’m here.”
“Is it really you?”
“Yes, it is.”
“How do I know?”
“Anastasia, I swore to your father that I would watch over you. That I would help you defeat Vincent and the Brutes and that I would keep you safe while you did it. Although I haven’t done the best job lately, I have every intention of making sure I do better from now on.”
“Tony,” she cried. She tried reaching for him, but her entire body ached. She didn’t realize she was chained to the wall until the shackles pulled her back.
“Oh, honey.” He pulled her in for a hug. “I'm going to bring someone in here to get you out of these chains. These are Brute metal, so I'm going to bring a Brute in, but he is our ally.”
“No, no Brute, please, Tony.” She started panicking, and her chest got heavy.
“Trust me, honey, he is our friend. It is a l
ong story and one I will tell you tomorrow, I promise. Argento!” he yelled, and when the large figure filled the doorway, Anastasia cried out.
“I will not harm you, Anastasia.” He reached for the shackles on her wrists, and when she pulled away, he smiled lightly, an expression she hadn’t known Brutes were capable of forming. “I will not harm you,” he repeated, and gently gripped either side of the metal. He pulled it apart, and with a popping noise her hands were free. He removed the ones on her ankles and she tried to stand.
Her legs gave out, and she fell into Tony.
“I need a blanket. She is freezing.”
“Here, use this.” Argento handed him the cloak he had been wearing over his back, and Tony wrapped her quickly.
Anastasia sighed with relief at the warmth she hadn’t felt in she couldn’t even remember how long. As Tony carried her out, she closed her eyes to avoid seeing Dakota.
As Tony carried Anastasia out and into the light of the lanterns, Dakota felt the chains on the rage that had been building in his chest snap. His body began to vibrate when he looked at what they had done to her. Her lips were blue from the cold, and she had bruises and cuts everywhere, as if she had been beaten. Her eyes were hollow, and he could see that she had lost a significant amount of weight that she hadn’t needed to lose. Had they even fed her?
He turned away from her, not wanting her to see the anger on his face, and he walked back towards the cellar. He wanted to get a good look at where she had been trapped. She had been so damn close to him, within a day’s walk, and he hadn’t even noticed! What kind of man was he? Why had he not even tried looking for her here? He slammed his fist into the wall of the cellar and felt the pain shoot up through his arm.
“Anger will do you no good, my friend.” Argento came in behind him, having to duck so that he wouldn’t hit his head on the ceiling.
“I am feeling so much more than anger, Argento. I am feeling rage, disgust, guilt, sadness…in fact, you name it and I’m feeling it right now. You saw what they did to her!”
“I did. It is absolutely atrocious the way she has been treated. Even after seeing the way your villagers were being worked to death, I had not wanted to believe that those of my kind could have been capable of such horrific torture. To be chained down here alone must have been indescribably awful.”
The Fighter (Prophecy Series Book 2) Page 4
