Phoenix

by Jessica Wayne

“There has to be a bigger picture,” Anastasia said as she searched the map. “After seeing him in person, and hearing what he plans, I just don’t see how he can pull it off alone. Even with the amount of power he has on his side.”

  “I agree, but preparing is all we can do right now. We were getting ready to put together a larger team and flush out the caves, but if they leave right now, we will be left defenseless.”

  “I’m willing to bet they’ve already moved on.” Tony crossed his arms. “Would be foolish to stay after we found them. They went through a lot of trouble to hide.”

  “What did you learn, Anastasia?” Selena asked.

  Anastasia leaned against the counter. “He is planning on taking over Seattle and, by my best guess, the rest of the world with it. I don’t know exactly what his motives are, other than he wants more power.”

  “That could be his singular motive,” Tony commented. “I’ve seen a lot of horrible things done in the name of power.”

  “Agreed,” Dakota said.

  Shane glanced up briefly, and then looked back at the map.

  “What is the next step?” Selena asked.

  “I want to go through my dad’s stuff. He kept a journal, and I’m hoping there’s something in there that we can use.”

  “You don’t think he would have told you about it if there was?” Tony asked.

  “He spent five years trying to dampen your power, knowing it would lead to your death.” Vincent’s voice popped into her head again.

  “I don’t want to risk an oversight,” she told him.

  Tony nodded. “I need to get back to the medical cottage. I’m afraid we lost Melody that night they attacked, so I’ve been doing what I can with field dressings.” Tony turned to leave. “I can help,” Elizabeth offered. “Doctor.” She pointed to herself.

  Tony smiled. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

  “Be careful,” Dakota told his mom.

  “I will take care of her.” Tony nodded at Dakota, and he and Elizabeth stepped from the cottage.

  “Do you need help going through anything?” Shane asked tightly. “I know how difficult it will be for you.” He looked at Dakota, who stared back unwavering.

  “I will let you know. Thanks for the offer.” She turned to leave.

  “Anastasia, wait.”

  She turned back, and Shane crossed the room to pull her in for a tight hug. “I missed you,” he whispered just before he released her and stepped from the room.

  “Shall we?” Anastasia asked awkwardly. She looked up at Dakota, whose face was unreadable.

  “Sure,” he responded.

  “I’ll let you know if we find anything,” she told Selena, grabbing Dakota’s hand to lead him back outside.

  51

  Dakota

  Dakota studied Anastasia as she looked up at the looming façade of a small cabin. It was built using logs, just as the other places in town had been, and was secluded from the others.

  His restraint was barely leashed as he watched her, his mind a jealous mess after her confrontation with Shane.

  He had never thought of her with another man, so the idea that she had cared—possibly loved—someone else was a dagger to his heart.

  A muscle in Dakota’s jaw jumped, and he decided he wanted—no, he needed—to tell her how he felt. “After my dad was killed, I entered the Academy. I wanted to become a cop as soon as I could so that I could go after Mitch.”

  She turned to face him, and he let out a deep breath.

  “I worked my ass off and made detective within two years. When I was promoted, and Harry and I became partners, I knew that I had to do whatever I could to keep what happened to you from happening to anyone else.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “My first year, I was put on a case where a young mom had died. Her husband told us that she had simply fallen off a stool while she was cleaning.” He ground his teeth together as the memory took form in his mind.

  “He was so good at pretending he was upset. Had I not known the signs of abuse, I might have believed him. They had a young daughter, six years old. He had a good lawyer, though, and he got off. There was no reason he shouldn’t have been locked up. They even gave custody of his daughter back to him.” Dakota stood and began pacing in front of her. “I wanted to beat the shit out of him. I followed him one night after he dropped his daughter off at his mother’s house and went to a bar. He was walking out with a leggy brunette. Had it not been for her, I probably would have jumped on the opportunity. He was drunk, and more than likely wouldn’t have remembered it anyway.” He turned to face her now.

  “I went home angry with myself for what I had almost done. Three hours later, I got the call that his daughter had been brought to the hospital. Her father had told the nurses that she tripped and fell onto the coffee table. She had to get two stitches in her forehead, and I lost it. Had it not been for Harry, I probably would have killed him that night in the hospital.”

  “What happened to the little girl?”

  “We were finally able to put him away for the abuse, and she went to live with her maternal grandparents.”

  “Good.”

  He nodded in agreement. “I saw you in every single victim’s face, Ana. I searched for you in every Jane Doe they brought into the morgue. I made every single abuse case that came in my personal mission to try and make up for the fact that I hadn’t been able to save you.”

  “Dakota.” She reached up and cupped his face, the contact sending a shock through his system. “You did save me. Every single day I woke up was because of you. Knowing you were there for me is what made my life worth something. You pulled me out of hell more times than you can even imagine.”

  “You were always it for me,” he said tightly. “I was young, and I was stupid, or I would have told you long before that night in the park.”

  “Dakota,” she whispered.

  “Please just tell me you feel the same. Forget about everything else going on right now and just tell me that I’m not crazy.”

  “You’re not. You were always it for me, too.”

  “Thank God.” He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in, crushing his mouth to hers and knocking the breath from his lungs. Her hands gripped his shoulders, and he buried his own in her hair. She was so fucking perfect, and he’d be damned if he lost her again.

  She was his. He was staking his claim and, based on her response, she was accepting. Her mouth opened beneath his, their tongues meeting in a frenzied dance that had his blood boiling within his veins.

  He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers. Her breath was ragged, mimicking his own.

  “Fuck. I’ve missed you.” He groaned.

  “I missed you, too.”

  “I need you, Ana. I’ve always needed you.” He pulled away and looked into those eyes he knew so well.

  “I have a war to fight.”

  “I know.”

  “I have to stay focused.”

  “We have a war to fight. We will stay focused.” She was pulling away from him, and he had no intention of letting her go. He reached forward and cupped her cheek.

  Her bottom lip quivered, and she turned to face the house again. He linked his fingers with hers, and pulled her up onto the porch.

  “You are my strength, Ana. Let me be yours.”

  52

  Anastasia

  Anastasia stepped into the house and swallowed hard. It looked exactly the same, the damage from Ophelia’s attack still present with the disheveled furniture and the blood-stained wood floor.

  She averted her eyes and, using the hand Dakota wasn’t holding, closed the door behind her.

  “So, this is where you’ve been?” Dakota asked as he looked around the room.

  She nodded tightly, not ready to speak yet.

  “You okay?” he asked, squeezing her hand.

  “It’s just hard. The last time I was here was the night—”

  “Your father died?”

  “Ye
s. How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “It was just a guess. Do you need to leave?”

  “No. I want to do this.” She released his hand and walked over to Gregory’s room; if she was going to find his journal anywhere, it would be in there.

  “If you need me, I’m here.”

  She offered him a smile, grateful he was letting her face this part alone. Anastasia pushed the door open, and Gregory’s scent filled her lungs. The lump in her throat grew, and she beat back the tears that were fighting their way to the surface.

  She stood in the doorway a moment, staring into the place where her father had slept. His bed was turned down as if simply waiting for him to climb into it come nightfall. As if his bed never got the memo that he was never going to slip beneath the blankets again.

  His robe was slung over a chair, his boots set neatly beside it. She moved further in and turned to face his dresser. The last remaining vials of the healing potion were lined up on the wooden surface

  Anastasia would collect them before they went after Vincent.

  She looked at the small portrait of Gregory and Annabelle that they’d had painted years before Anastasia’s arrival in Terrenia. They had been so happy together. She hoped that they had found each other again in the afterlife.

  Anastasia gently opened the top drawer of his dresser, and there, nestled in between some clothing, was his leather-bound journal. Her pulse began to race when she lifted it.

  After taking a seat on the edge of his bed, Anastasia opened the journal to the first page and took a step into Gregory’s mind.

  My Dearest Annabelle,

  I fear I may not make it without you. I have been trying so hard to focus on the good that is still in the world, just as you taught me to, but I have been finding it so difficult to see past the evil. Are you still here with me, love? Sometimes it’s as if I can feel you standing next to me. I keep waiting for you to walk through that door with your smile, and for your laughter to fill the room, and then, when I remember you’re gone, I just want to crawl into a hole and die with you.

  I know I cannot. I know that our daughter needs me, but I am finding it so hard to make myself move from this bed. You were my light; how am I supposed to stay away from the dark now?

  Anastasia’s fingers trembled on the page. She closed her eyes, and the tears that she worked so hard to hold back began to fall. When she opened her eyes, she continued reading.

  Why didn’t I listen to his warning? I could have stopped her training, and we could have lived our lives as a family, the way we never were able to before. Why was I so stubborn? Please forgive me, my love.

  Gregory

  His warning? Had Vincent warned Gregory that he would come for Annabelle? She quickly turned the page.

  Annabelle,

  I am trying to move forward. I have been watching Anastasia in her training with Tony. She is magnificent. You would be so proud of her. Our daughter shines with a brighter light than I have ever seen before. She moves with speed and purpose when she fights, and I know she will make a formidable enemy to any who dare to cross her. I am tempted to keep her with me. To not allow her to go into war with him. It’s selfish, I know, but she is all I have left. All that I have left to remind me of you.

  I have not seen the spark in her yet, but I know that when it comes, she will be more powerful than we ever imagined. At times I worry it may be too much for her, but then I look at her, and I know she will be able to handle it. Never has there been a brighter star than our Anastasia.

  Gregory

  Anastasia gripped the journal to her chest. He had always believed in her. What had she done to deserve such unwavering faith?

  She opened the journal to the next page.

  Annabelle,

  I saw it today. Maximus cornered and taunted Anastasia. Had I not seen it in her eyes, I may have intervened and made him a mute for the things he said to her.

  She used her magic without even realizing it. With no prior knowledge of her abilities, she managed to take him down without so much as a fight from him or his two accomplices.

  I spoke with her afterward. She told me that Dakota was the one who brought her back. He is her light, and while it thrills me that she has someone who, even after all this time, is able to bring her back from the brink of darkness, it saddens me a little because I know she will need to one day go back to him.

  I am not ready to lose her.

  Gregory

  She wiped a tear from her cheek and turned the page.

  Anastasia,

  My dear child. If you are reading this, then I fear I am no longer with you. There are so many things I have not yet told you! First and foremost, you must know that I am so proud of you. You have blossomed into the most wonderful young woman I have ever known. You have been a light in my life since the moment you were born, and although you were taken from us, you continued to be our world until the day we both stopped breathing and even beyond that.

  Please do not mourn me. Know that I am watching over you, just as your mother is, and we will always be here with you. You will never be alone, Anastasia. I will try now to tell you the things I did not have the courage to tell you in life.

  Your magic will continue to grow into something that may frighten you at first; don’t let it. You will always be in control. I have never seen anyone whose light burned brighter than yours. Do not fear the power—embrace it. Vincent’s downfall was that he had no light because he never loved anyone except himself. I had your mother; it’s why I never strayed. You have Dakota and, Anastasia, you must make it back to him. He is a wonderful man. I spoke to him quite a few times when I visited. I was always watching over him because I knew how much he meant to you.

  You need to know that you don’t have to have a vial to open a portal. You only need to conjure the power, much in the way you call upon the light in your palm. I used the vials because I was afraid I might not be able to pull myself away. I am sorry that I never told you about the ability to revisit your world; I fear I was selfish in worrying that you may never return to me.

  In order to defeat Vincent, you are going to need to embrace everything inside of you.

  You will succeed. I know that you will bring peace to our world once again.

  Do not fear the dark, Anastasia. Without it, there would be no place for light, and that’s what you are, my dear child, light in an ever darkening world.

  You must trust Tony; he has been the best friend I could have ever asked for, and the brother I always wished for. He will never lead you astray.

  The battles that we fight silently are sometimes the most difficult, and I know that you have fought plenty. Know now that the ones you have faced have not made you weaker—you are a stronger person for the way you survived. Never give up, my daughter. You are the strongest Fighter I have ever had the pleasure to know.

  I will always love you, and I will always be with you, even though you may not see me.

  Your father

  Anastasia quickly flipped through the rest of the pages, but they were blank. Nothing had been written in the journal after his letter to her. Ophelia must have gotten to him before he could write more. How had he known he was going to die?

  Her thoughts drifted back to the night on the porch when he’d told her that if anything was ever to happen to him, he wanted her to know how much she was loved, and how proud he was.

  Was it possible the same seer who spoke of her destiny had foretold his death?

  She shut the journal and curled her legs up underneath her. All of the pain and grief she had been fighting came crashing down on her as her mind continued to replay scenes from her time with Gregory.

  Eventually, Dakota’s arms surrounded her as he pulled her into his lap and cradled her against his chest.

  “It’s okay, Ana, I’m here.” He kissed her forehead and held her while she cried.

  53

  Anastasia

  When she opened her swollen eyes, the only light came f
rom the embers in the fireplace. She sat up quickly, searching the living room. Relief filled her when her gaze landed on Dakota beside her.

  “It was getting cold, so I started a fire and brought you out here.”

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

  “Don’t be.”

  The power she’d used back in Seattle must have drained her more than she’d considered.

  “How are you?”

  “Better.” She was surprised that she did actually feel better, as if a weight had finally been lifted off of her chest. “And like I need a drink.”

  He laughed. “That’s my girl.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly, then got to his feet. “Why don’t we get one and then you can tell me what you found out? If you want to, that is.”

  “Sounds good to me.” She set the journal down on the table to retrieve two cups and the bottle of liquor Gregory kept tucked away in the cabinet.

  “So, is this your dad?” Dakota asked as he lifted the portrait that had been in Gregory’s room from the table. “I brought it out after I carried you to the couch,” he explained.

  “Yes, that’s him and my mother, Annabelle.”

  “I met him,” Dakota told her.

  “He said that he visited you.”

  Dakota’s brow furrowed.

  “In the notebook. He said that he kept an eye on you because of how much you meant to me.”

  “He did. Except he called himself Silvan.”

  She smiled. “That was his last name.”

  “That sneaky bastard.” Dakota laughed. “I mean that lovingly, of course.”

  “I know you do.” She handed him a cup and took a drink from her own.

  “He always sat at the same spot in the bar down the street from my apartment. We became friends. I told him things I never felt comfortable telling another person.”

  “He had that effect on people,” she said, nodding. “As did my mother.”