Phoenix

by Jessica Wayne

  The caves were humid, and Anastasia, who had never been bothered by small space before, had to steady her breathing to keep from panicking. It was dark, and damp, and the only noises were that of their light footsteps.

  The stench of sulfur surrounded them, growing stronger as they continued to push on.

  Anastasia estimated they were about a mile in when Kaley growled low in her chest, and heavy footfalls echoed toward them in the caverns. They crept closer to the edge of the small hall they were in. As they neared the end, she could see light bouncing just up ahead. They ducked behind the stone wall, as the adrenaline wove its way into her system, readying her for whatever fight lay ahead.

  “Gather around,” Maximus called.

  Anastasia froze, adrenaline pumping harder and faster through her veins, a white heat that buzzed just below the surface of her skin. Maximus was here. She’d found him. She was damn well going to put an end to him once and for all.

  Anastasia reached for her sword, but stopped when Tony gently touched her shoulder and put his finger to his lips, signaling her to be silent.

  As they peered around the corner and into the cavern ahead, Anastasia counted nearly six-dozen Brutes standing in the dimly lit room.

  Sealed crates lined the walls, and a robed man stood in front of the crowd. Maximus moved to stand beside him.

  The robed man put his hands behind his back and began to pace in such a way that was her real father, bile burned the back of her throat.

  Vincent, she nearly growled his name.

  “It is time, my friends,” he bellowed. “We are so close to reaching our goal, I can practically taste the victory.”

  The Brutes cheered, the roar echoing loudly through the cavern.

  Vincent raised his hand to silence them. “Remember, this is a recon mission only. You are to remain hidden in the warehouse until the time comes to attack. Trust me; you don’t want to risk putting the humans on alert until absolutely necessary.”

  Anastasia’s breath caught in her throat. Humans?

  “If their military gets involved, that will mean game over before we even get started,” he explained, receiving grunts of dissent from the beasts.

  “I will cloak the city so we won’t have to worry about any outside interference, but I will only do so when it is time for Phase Two of our plan. If I attempt the cloaking spell before then, I will drain myself and, well, that wouldn’t be a good thing, would it?”

  The Brutes let out a deep laugh, and Anastasia looked up at Tony. His eyes were wide as he looked back and forth between her and the Brute army.

  “We are going to start in Seattle. My contact there will provide us with even more weapons.” He gestured to the crates against the walls. “Once we are armed, the young witch and the weak people of Terrenia will be no match for us.”

  Anastasia tensed. Young witch? Was he talking about her?

  “We will have victory, and then we will bask in the blood of those who thought to stand against us!”

  The Brutes began to cheer, the din rising to a near-deafening level.

  Her stomach churned as she watched the scene unfolding before her. Cheering Brutes pumped their fists in the air as her father’s brother—she refused to call him her uncle—smiled in front of them.

  All while they plotted to invade a city, her city. The idea that they were gathering weapons was more horrifying than she wanted to face right now. No one in Terrenia had guns; if Vincent armed the Brutes, her people wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “You will stick to the shadows,” Vincent continued. “Kill anyone who sees you.”

  The Brutes grunted in response.

  “Now, shall we move toward our destiny?” Vincent smiled and waved his hand. The swirling blue light of a portal opened behind him, and the Brutes began pouring through.

  Anastasia sucked in a breath. Goose bumps broke out over her skin. How did Vincent open a portal without throwing a vial down? She hadn’t seen him use any magic at all!

  “We wait until the numbers are thinned,” Tony whispered to her and Shane, “then we go for them.” He nodded toward Maximus and Vincent.

  They nodded in agreement. As hordes of Brutes poured into the city she once called home, Anastasia gripped the sword at her hip. She pulled in a deep, cleansing breath and prepared for battle.

  Tony touched her shoulder as he unsheathed his sword, and the three of them plunged into the cavern, Kaley roaring loudly at their heels.

  “What’s this, then?” Vincent asked, amusement adding a slight lilt to his voice.

  Anastasia threw herself at the nearest Brute, driving her sword through its neck and smiling with a sick satisfaction as it fell to the ground. The element of surprise had worked for them; Tony had been able to take down two Brutes himself, Shane one, and Kaley stood over another one, licking blood from her paw.

  Anastasia chucked her dagger and it burrowed into the eye of a beast. She conjured up a ball of flame, then quickly threw it at another Brute as Tony decapitated it.

  She looked up just in time to see the crease of Vincent’s eyebrows as he watched her fight. You better be afraid, you bastard.

  “Deal with her,” he said to Maximus, then headed for the portal.

  “With pleasure.” Maximus smiled and unsheathed his sword.

  Anastasia lunged for Maximus, and their swords connected with the loud clang of metal crashing against metal.

  “It won’t stay open long!” Tony yelled.

  “I know!”

  She dodged from the arc of his blade, then swung, but Maximus moved out of the way.

  “Isn’t this interesting? That we end up back here?” Maximus grinned. “You and me, finally face to face again so I can end this once and for all.”

  “The interesting part will be when I bury my sword in your chest, you arrogant prick.”

  Maximus laughed and dodged her sword. She spun and kicked him in the chest, knocking him close to the portal. He glanced behind him at the swirling blue light, then looked back at her and smirked.

  She’d slice that smirk right off his face. Anastasia lunged, but Maximus was too quick. He somersaulted into the portal, and her sword sliced through air instead of through the skull of her enemy.

  She grunted in frustration, gritting her teeth.

  “Agh!” Shane cried out, and Anastasia spun to see him fall to his knees. Tony sliced the head off the beast and helped Shane back to his feet.

  She started to head for them, but Tony raised his hand.

  “Go! We will hold them!” Tony yelled. He and Kaley battled side by side, fighting the few remaining Brutes while Shane cradled his wounded side.

  “It’s okay,” he told her.

  With one last look at her friends, she said, “I’ll come back.”

  “Give them hell, Anastasia,” Tony called out.

  With a curt nod, she stepped into the portal.

  38

  Seattle

  Dakota

  They were sitting on the ugly red couch in their living room, binge-watching Scrubs. She had a bowl of popcorn in her lap, and he reached in at the same time she did on purpose, just so his fingers could brush her skin.

  This dream version of Dakota soaked in every feature… the way her hair curled softly around her cheeks, the way her blue eyes gazed so intently into his, so full of love.

  Mitch burst in, and happiness morphed into terror as he ripped Ana away from him, again.

  She disappeared from his sight, just as she always did.

  Dakota gasped and sat up in bed. Sweat had beaded on his bare chest, and he wiped some from his brow. No matter how many years passed, or how many girls he dated, he could never forget Ana’s face. He tried so hard to forget her, to forget the anger he felt at himself for not being able to save her. He tried to forgive himself for leaving her at the apartment all alone that fateful day.

  Dakota stood and pulled on his jeans, then walked to his bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face and glanced at his watc
h. Four a.m. Perfect. Rather than go back to bed where his ghosts awaited him, he headed to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and stared out his window at the early morning sky.

  There was a flash of light in the alley below him, replacing the shadows below with a bright blue glow.

  His mouth dropped open as the largest men Dakota had ever seen came barreling out of a glowing blue circle on the side of the building beside his. A blade glinted in the light, and he dropped his mug.

  He grabbed his gun, then checked the clip as he bounded down the stairs and into the alley, barefoot and shirtless. After ducking behind a dumpster to avoid being seen, his stomach twisted as he got a good look at the men—or rather monsters—that poured into his city.

  Pale as paper they came out, some with large bones sticking from their noses and other various muscled body parts, others covered head to toe in what looked to be brands. By his guess, these—things—were at least seven feet tall, possibly more, and stacked with the type of muscle most men only dream about.

  Their large, round faces were just as pale as the rest of them. Their noses and mouths appeared to be humanoid, aside from the fact that those mouths were pulled up in sneers that showcased their ferocity.

  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take them all on himself, so he stayed put until the crowd thinned as more and more of them disappeared into the city.

  Four remained, lining up just as a man exited through the pale blue circle of light.

  “Get to the warehouse and wait for me there. I have some business to attend to.”

  The monsters began to march away.

  Dakota stood, raising his arm to aim his gun at the robed man. “Stop, and order them to stop as well. You are under arrest.”

  The man laughed. “Lower your weapon, boy.”

  Dakota’s gun didn’t waver.

  “Who do you think you are?” the man sneered.

  “Detective Dakota Parker. I need you to tell them to stop.” He nodded toward the beasts who were making their way toward him.

  “Why, if it isn’t little Dakota Parker. Isn’t this coincidental? I’ve heard quite a bit about you… and what a giant pain in the ass you are.” He bared his teeth, then flung his arm out.

  Dakota’s body lifted into the air, then jerked backwards, slamming against the wall.

  His vision hazy, Dakota tried to scramble to his feet as two of the four remaining beasts stalked toward him.

  “No, leave him. We may need him. He will prove a nice distraction if we are followed.”

  Still dazed, Dakota stared at the man and the beasts as they walked away. A younger man crawled from the light and scrambled to his feet, breaking into a sprint as he chased after them.

  Dakota crawled toward the blue circle of light, slowly regaining his strength. He pushed up into a crouch, then began to rise to his feet—

  Someone slammed into him, knocking him back to the ground. He glanced up, momentarily blinded as the blue light surged, then disappeared, leaving them in darkness tinted with the purple glow of early morning. He rolled his attacker off of him, then straddled the individual, rearing his fist back to pummel whoever just knocked him down.

  Familiar blue eyes met his, and he sucked in a breath.

  “Ana?” His jaw dropped.

  “Dakota?” she whispered.

  He jumped to his feet and stared down at her, his mind racing nearly as fast as his pulse.

  Dakota blinked rapidly, fully expecting this to be some trick of the head trauma he’d surely suffered hitting the wall. But when she didn’t disappear, he shook his head.

  “Ana? Is that really you?”

  It didn’t matter that it was dark, or that the light from whatever the hell that blue glowing thing was that brought the monsters here was gone, he would have recognized her anywhere.

  She jumped to her feet, retrieved a sword from the ground, and stood facing him like a woman on a mission, her eyes wild and alert. Two knives and a gun were strapped into the waistband of skintight leather pants, and she wore knee-high leather boots and a body-hugging vest.

  As she quickly scanned the alley around them, her gaze flicking back and forth like an animal stalking its prey, his stomach sank. Her mission may not have been the same as his.

  She came through after those—things—after all.

  He lifted his gun and aimed it at her even as every ounce of his being fought against pointing a gun at the girl he’d loved his whole life. “Put the sword away, Anastasia.”

  “Dakota, I don’t have time for this.” Her gaze flicked past him to the streets beyond the alley. “They’re getting away!”

  “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “Dakota, please.” She bounced from one foot to another and bit down on her bottom lip in frustration.

  Five years ago, he would have let her get away with not telling him everything, but not today. Especially when he wasn’t sure she was real to begin with. Where the hell had she been all this time? Why was she dressed like something out of a medieval movie?

  How hard had he hit his head?

  Was he dreaming?

  39

  Anastasia

  Anastasia sheathed her sword and placed her hands on her hips. Her chest heaved with each heavy breath as adrenaline coursed through her veins. The longer she squared off with Dakota, the more distance between her and her targets.

  But…. Dakota. She nearly sobbed as she looked him over.

  Emotions tumbled together at the sight of him. Joy, love, relief… all warring for center stage in her mind.

  He’d aged in the years she’d been away. His face had a few days’ worth of stubble, and his dark hair was messy from sleep. The beginnings of laugh lines circled his mouth. Tattoos climbed up his left arm, starting at his bicep and spanning over part of his chest.

  A chest that was stronger, bigger than she remembered, a light coating of hair dusting the taut skin. Hard lines and deep valleys accentuating toned muscles that could only be the result of years of fighting or countless nights spent in a gym. The body of a Fighter… had he not become a doctor?

  He wore blue jeans slung low on his hips, and Anastasia’s heart skipped a beat as she took in the man standing before her. Gone was the boy she’d left all those years ago.

  Her heart pinched with guilt—just how much of his life had she missed?—but as she looked into blue eyes more familiar to her than her own, nothing else mattered.

  “Dakota,” she whispered, his name a prayer on her lips.

  His brow bunched as he searched her gaze, but he didn’t lower his gun.

  Wait. “Why do you have a gun?”

  “I’m a cop.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “A cop? But—”

  “Detective, actually.”

  She shook her head. That wasn’t right. He was supposed to be a doctor, like Elizabeth. He’d never wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. What happened? What changed? “What happened to—?”

  “You happened, Ana.” He shook his head, searching her gaze as he lowered the gun, his eyebrows bunched. “You disappeared. You left. I had to do something, had to try to find you…” He gave his head another quick shake, then straightened his shoulders. “Who are those men? What were those… things?” he spat.

  Remembering her reason for being in Seattle in the first place, Anastasia placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. “I have to go after them. Please let me go.”

  He lifted the gun back in place, straightening his arms. “No, Ana.”

  “Dammit, Dakota! People have died to get me this far. You have to let me go after them!”

  “I don’t even know who they are. I'm certainly not letting you go after them until I know what’s going on. You can either come with me and fill me in, or I can cuff you and take you down to the station.”

  His jaw was set, his eyes focused intently on her, and she knew he wouldn’t cave. He had always been stubborn, but the years had clearly
made him more so. Frustration caused the power in her body to hum in her veins. He wouldn’t be a match for her magic. She could get away if she chose to, but the thought of hurting him—even accidentally—was not something she could handle.

  She looked beyond him into the darkness.

  The Brutes were already gone, and it was unlikely she would find them now. Especially not in the dark city she barely knew anymore.

  A rush of anger flooded Anastasia, but she fought to ignore it. She’d been so close!

  But, when she looked back at Dakota, everything else faded to background noise.

  Her time with Maximus and Vincent would come, of that she was sure.

  But Dakota… hadn’t she waited half a decade to see him again?

  Anastasia ached to be near him, so much so that her fingers twitched to touch him. She had missed him beyond measure, would have given anything to see him again, and now, here she was, face to face with the man she’d loved all her life.

  And he pointed a gun at her.

  Something about this both thrilled and frustrated her.

  “Fine. We will talk first, but not here. I don’t want to be ambushed.”

  40

  Dakota

  “Wait here,” Dakota said as they entered his apartment. He walked to his bedroom to get dressed, but left the door partially open so he could hear if she tried to leave.

  Guilt pinched his chest. This was Ana, his Ana—could he not trust her?

  Dakota stood for a moment staring at his closet absently. What in the hell had he just witnessed? What was going on in Seattle? Was it him? Was he finally losing the mind he had worked so hard to hold onto after Ana disappeared?

  And what in the hell was she doing running through a mysterious blue light in the middle of a dead-end alleyway anyway? And with a sword? Who carried a sword these days? Where had she gotten it?