Phoenix

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Phoenix Page 4

by Jessica Wayne


  Anastasia winced as the woman started to apply the salve to her back, but almost instantly, the pain began to fade to a dull ache. When she was finished, Annabelle set the bowl to the side and helped Anastasia back into her shirt.

  “Come here, dear,” she said once Anastasia was dressed, pulling her in for an embrace. “Who did this to you?”

  “My father.”

  Annabelle went stiff and released Anastasia. “You’re safe now,” she said softly, and then went to work bottling the remainder of the salve.

  “I’m still not entirely sure my father didn’t manage to kill me and this is all some sort of afterlife.”

  Annabelle’s face grew serious. “A father does not do the things to you that this man did. The man who did this is evil and does not deserve a name that should be filled with love.”

  Anastasia couldn’t agree more. “Mitch. His name is Mitch.”

  “Atta girl.” She smiled and stood. “Let’s go out and meet everyone.”

  Annabelle held Anastasia’s hand as she led her out of the small cottage.

  9

  Anastasia

  Anastasia stepped out into the sunshine, curious about this new place she’d found herself in. But where the hell was she, exactly? She needed to find a phone or some way of getting in touch with Dakota to let him know she was all right.

  Her eyes landed on Gregory who was holding his hand out, bouncing a ball of light in his palm. Brady and a young girl who looked a lot like him, watched, awestruck, and when Gregory closed his fist, the light burst into dozens of smaller lights that floated up and got lost in the sky.

  The pair laughed wildly and ran to a woman whose dark hair was pulled up into a tight bun.

  “Gregory’s been working with magic for the last twenty years or so. He enchants each healing potion I use to give it a boost.” Pride warmed Annabelle’s voice. “Unfortunately, we’ve needed the medicinal aid more often nowadays.”

  Anastasia started to ask her why, but the villagers formed a circle around them, and she quieted, instantly feeling awkward.

  “Everyone!” Annabelle called. “This is Anastasia.” She looked over at Anastasia lovingly, and wrapped her arm around her shoulders much like Dakota’s mother had done a time or two throughout her life. “She is going to be staying with us.”

  Everyone around her muttered a “Welcome” in unison, and her stomach flipped. She hated being the center of attention.

  The largest man Anastasia had ever seen began moving toward them. He was shirtless, a large sword strapped to his waist. His entire torso was covered in tattoos, and his greying hair fell to his shoulders. A large jagged scar made its way down his chest.

  Anastasia swallowed hard as he approached, fighting the intense urge to crawl away. That was, at least, until his eyes met hers. They were kind, as green as the leaves of the trees, and his warm smile set her mind at ease.

  “This is Tony,” Annabelle said.

  He held out his hand. “It is absolutely wonderful to meet you, Anastasia. We are so pleased to have you here in Terrenia.”

  “He and Gregory have been best friends for years,” Annabelle explained.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Anastasia said with a smile.

  Annabelle guided her down toward where people were going about their daily business.

  “It’s so lovely to meet you.” A woman with blonde hair and dark eyes bowed her head slightly. “Isn’t it, Maximus?” She lightly elbowed a boy who looked to be about Anastasia’s age. When he turned to look at her, she almost jumped back.

  His blonde hair was slicked back at his neck, and a deep scar curved on his cheek. It was his eyes, though, that filled her with fear. They were cold and menacing, matching the sneer on his face.

  There was no amusement in his gaze, no warm welcome. “Yeah, it’s great.”

  Annabelle must have sensed Anastasia’s unease, because she dismissed them and guided Anastasia back toward the path she’d walked with Gregory earlier.

  “You will meet more of our people day by day. Some are out hunting, others are away fighting.”

  “Fighting?”

  Annabelle sighed. “The Brutes are becoming more of a problem than we ever thought they would be.”

  “Brutes?”

  “Big, burly beasts. They stand nearly eight feet tall and their skin is so pale it’s nearly translucent. No one knows where they came from. Some believe they are men who sold their souls; others believe they were brought here from another world entirely.”

  “What do you believe?”

  “The latter. I think they were brought here by the Darkness. They’ve been attacking villages, taking the able bodied and killing the rest. Some of our Fighters have gone to hold the line and try to drive them back into the mountains.”

  Anastasia shook her head; she’d left one war zone only to be brought into another. And apparently Gregory believed she was some prophesized hero. How was she supposed to defeat beasts that an army of trained fighters couldn’t stop? She hadn’t even been able to escape her father. At least not permanently.

  But she sure as hell had drawn some blood, hadn’t she? She thought back to the murderous look in his eyes after she’d punched him.

  They continued walking in silence until the cottage came into view. Once inside, Anastasia was overwhelmed with the feeling of home again. She and Annabelle made their way over to the couch, and Anastasia sat, careful to not rest her back against the cushion. While most of the pain was gone, her back still ached.

  “So, tell me of your life.”

  Anastasia didn’t make a habit of spilling her secrets to strangers. “Actually, I was hoping I might be able to borrow a phone? I need to call someone and let them know I’m all right.”

  “Did Gregory not tell you?”

  “Not tell me what?”

  “We don’t have a phone. You can’t contact anyone outside of our world.”

  Her heart dropped. “What? I have to tell my… friend that I’m okay!”

  “I’m sorry, Anastasia. It’s just not possible.”

  Anastasia stood and rushed outside. Despite the pain in her back, she pushed into a run and ran until her lungs nearly burst.

  What the hell did she mean Anastasia couldn’t call home? How would Dakota react when he returned home and discovered her missing? Would he think her father had finally beaten her for the last time? Would anyone even know Mitch Carter had been at their apartment?

  She dropped to her knees in the dirt and covered her face with her hands. What if she never saw Dakota again?

  “Anastasia?”

  She didn’t look up when she heard Gregory’s voice. He’d brought her here; he was the reason she wouldn’t see her best friend again. But he’d also saved her life.

  “I need to let Dakota know I’m all right.” Anastasia sat back and wrapped her arms around her knees.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible. There is no way to contact the other world from ours.”

  Anastasia glared up at him through tears. “You didn’t tell me I would never talk to Dakota again.”

  “I didn’t have time. We had to get out of there before that bastard killed you.”

  “If I can’t call, then I have to go back.” Panic surged within her, making her heart race. “You can take me back just like you brought me here. Dakota isn’t going to know where I am.”

  “The boy you were with today? Outside the library?”

  She lifted her tear-filled eyes to his. “That really was you?”

  He nodded. “I’d been looking for you for some time.” He took a seat beside her. “You are very special, Anastasia, and we need you.”

  She shook her head. I’m no one special. “Why can’t I go back? If you were able to open a portal there to get me and bring me here, why can’t you open one again?”

  His eyes darted away from hers, and he began to fidget with his hands. “Portaling to a new world takes strong magic—much stronger than I have, I’m afraid. I u
sed my last portal vial to bring you here.”

  Her heart sank. “So there’s no way for me to go back?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  She covered her face with her hands, and her shoulders shook on a sob. She was never going to see Dakota again, or hear him laugh, or see what they might have been together.

  What had she done to deserve this? To deserve to lose the one person who mattered most to her in the entire world?

  Would he go on with his life? Marry someone else? Have kids? The idea was nearly too much to bear, and Anastasia pressed her hands to her chest as her heart broke into a million jagged pieces.

  At least Mitch will never find me here. That was about the only sunlight in her ever-darkening world.

  10

  Seattle

  Dakota

  Dakota stepped into his childhood bedroom and stared at the closed window just opposite of his. How many times had he made the jump to the roof next door to see Ana? How many nights had she spent sleeping in his room to feel safe?

  What the hell happened to her? Had she left on her own? Been taken by someone? His father had interviewed their neighbors, who described an older man who had shown up that morning, and the timing lined up to just after Ana had sent her last text.

  In Dakota’s mind, the man had been a perfect match for Mitch Carter. His father had agreed, and called his partner—Detective Keesler—to go interview him. That’s where they were now, interviewing the father of the girl he loved. A father who very well might have killed her.

  A knock on his door pulled his attention to the doorway as his mother entered the room. “Dakota?” Tears left trails down her pale cheeks.

  He stood quickly, his pulse speeding. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need you to come downstairs.”

  “Mom, what’s wrong?” he asked again, walking to the door.

  “I need you to talk to Detective Keesler.”

  “Why?” Had they found her?

  “Honey.” She placed a hand on his forearm, stopping him in the hall just outside his bedroom.

  “Mom, did they find her?”

  She shook her head, and Dakota’s heart dropped to the floor. What was he supposed to do without her?

  He wasn’t sure how he made it down the stairs. It felt as if his entire body had gone numb from the shock. Missing? How could she be missing?

  “Hey, Dakota.” Frank Keesler stood as Dakota entered the kitchen.

  Dakota looked over to see his dad staring out through the window that faced the Carters’ house.

  “I’ll make this quick.” Detective Keesler gestured for the chair across from him. “Can you tell me everything that happened last night? From the time you arrived home to the time you left this morning?”

  Dakota nodded and went over the events that had kept him up all night. The details were easy enough to remember; it was a night he was never going to forget. He’d finally managed to summon the courage to tell her how he felt, and the taste of her lips on his was going to be forever branded into his memory.

  “Where is she?”

  Frank sighed and shut his notebook. “We don’t know.”

  “He must have hurt her,” Dakota growled.

  “We don’t know that. He has an alibi for the entire morning.”

  “He’s lying.”

  “Dakota, we can’t do anything if there’s no proof.”

  “He was seen by my neighbor!”

  “Your neighbor was still drunk from the night before and swears they saw a man arriving at the apartment. He could barely give us a description and didn’t confirm with a photograph. It’s possible she just took off.” He put his hand on Dakota’s shoulder, and Dakota moved away from it.

  “She didn’t just leave.”

  “She quit her job yesterday; maybe she was just tired of being in Seattle. Needed a fresh start.”

  “Frank,” Dakota’s dad interrupted. “She didn’t just leave.”

  The detective shrugged. “It’s out of my hands until we get more information. We will find her, Dakota.”

  “This is bullshit.” He headed out the front door and straight to the Carter residence.

  He raised his fist and banged on the door. Mitch opened it, a smug smile on his face.

  “Nice to see you, Dakota.” He stepped out and shut the front door behind him.

  “Where the fuck is she?” He gripped the front of Mitch’s shirt and slammed him back against the door. Size wise, Dakota knew he had the other man beat, and he’d been longing to kick his ass since the night he’d nearly put Ana in the hospital their senior year.

  “I don’t know, boy, why don’t you tell me? You were the one sleeping with her.”

  Dakota slammed him hard against the door.

  “Dakota!” his mother screamed, and before he could be stopped, he rammed his fist into Mitch’s face. The other man’s nose crunched beneath Dakota’s fist. Strong hands gripped Dakota by the shoulders, hauling him backwards, and Mitch crumbled to the floor.

  “You know where she is, you son of a bitch!” Dakota howled in anger and ripped his arms away from the two men holding him. “I swear, if you hurt her—”

  “You’ll do what, kid?” Mitch scowled as he swiped at the blood on his lip. “Come sucker punch me again?”

  “Dakota, get in the house.”

  “Listen to your mommy, Dakota. I’d hate for you to get hurt.”

  “Ha! I’m over twenty-one now, old man; how about you get up and let me kick your ass like I’ve been wanting to do all my life?”

  “Dakota, get in the fucking house!” his father roared. “You’re going to get your ass arrested, then what the hell good are you for her?” He put his hand on Dakota’s chest, and Dakota fought the urge to shove him aside and attack Mitch again.

  “I will find her,” Dakota growled, then stalked back to the house.

  An hour later, his father walked into his childhood bedroom.

  “Hey, son.”

  Dakota said nothing, just continued staring down at the photograph in his hand. It had been taken one of the weekends Ana had stayed with them at their family cabin. She wore overalls and a white T-shirt, her hair in a messy bun while she smiled up at him.

  Where the hell was she now?”

  The bed dipped when his dad took a seat next to him. “That’s a good picture of you two.”

  Dakota nodded.

  “We will find her, son, and if Mitch was involved, we’ll lock his ass up.”

  “If he was involved? We both know he was.”

  “There’s nothing we can do, Dakota. Our hands are tied unless we can find more evidence. We will keep looking, though.”

  Dakota shook his head angrily.

  “Mitch has decided not to press charges. He understands your tensions were high.”

  “My tensions were high? Are you fucking kidding me? Tensions? I’m pissed the hell off, Dad. My girlfriend is missing and her abusive father—who is behind it—gets to continue breathing.”

  “Sometimes roadblocks go up, Dakota, but the great thing about them is they can be taken down. I promise I will find her. No matter what it takes.”

  “I will too.” He looked to his father, determination in his heart. “No matter what it takes.”

  11

  Terrenia

  Anastasia

  Anastasia stretched and opened her eyes. Light streamed in through the window, causing her swollen eyes to ache.

  At some point during the night, she’d finally managed to cry herself to sleep, but her heart still ached and more tears threatened the second she thought of Dakota and what he must be feeling not knowing what happened to her.

  She closed her eyes and tried to picture what their date might have been like. Would he have worn that black button-down shirt she loved so much? Would she have finally put on that red dress she splurged on three months ago?

  “Dakota, I’m so sorry.” She buried her face in her pillows. Would he ever forgive her? Not that it matte
red; she’d never be able to go back.

  A high-pitched scream ripped her from her thoughts, and Anastasia stood as quickly as she could, wincing when her back screamed in response. Dammit, that hurt! Another scream sounded in the quiet morning, and Anastasia made her way outside.

  Villagers screamed loudly as giant beasts thundered into the village center. They were pale, and were larger than any man Anastasia had ever seen.

  “Where is she?” one howled, and Anastasia watched, heart in her throat, as Gregory faced off with them.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t lie to me, sorcerer. We know she is here.”

  “Anastasia!” Annabelle whispered.

  She turned back to the house, and Annabelle motioned for her to come inside. She was crouched down in the kitchen, and Anastasia crawled over to her.

  “We will tear apart this village looking for her if we have to.”

  “No, you won’t,” Gregory said.

  Anastasia leaned up to look out through the window just in time to see him blast the giants backwards with a blast of light.

  A group of men—Fighters, Annabelle had called them—flanked Gregory, their swords drawn.

  They launched into an attack, and Anastasia watched with fascination as they fought. The beasts—or whatever they were—drew large blades from their waists, and Anastasia saw the older Fighter—Tony—barely move out of the way of one of them before burying his own blade in the things chest.

  Its blood poured out, blue liquid spilling on the ground. “Its blood is blue?” she whispered, and Annabelle nodded.

  “Those are Brutes.”

  Anastasia’s eyes widened. “The things that you have been at war with?”

  She nodded again. “Our Fighters are strong enough to keep them back for the most part, but we’re losing at least two warriors a week now.”

  Anastasia crept up to look back out, and watched as the Fighters drug the bodies of the monsters away.

 

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