She made her way over to him and sat beside him.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Anastasia shook her head. “You?”
“Nah. Too much on my mind.”
“Like what?” She folded her hands in her lap. The pajama pants and t-shirt she wore weren’t doing much to fend off the chill from the storm. Dakota wrapped an arm around her and she leaned against him. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, and her stomach flipped.
“Brady, for one. I don’t like the idea of him being out there. Selena is going out of her mind with worry, and I don’t want to have to tell a mother her son may never come home.”
“We’ll find him,” she said, hoping like hell she was right. “I want to go out tomorrow and see if we can’t find some trace of him. He has to be somewhere.”
“Unless Vincent has him hidden away.”
“Which, unfortunately, is entirely possible.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the soothing sound of the rain as it fell. They must have gotten quite a bit because even in the dim light from the moon that managed to sneak through the clouds, she could see that the pond beside the cabin was full.
“So, what’s the next thing?”
“Hmm?”
“You said ‘for one’, so I’m guessing there’s more.”
“It’s stupid,” he said with a laugh.
“Let me be the judge of that. I promise I won’t lie.”
Dakota grinned and removed his arm, leaving her feeling like a part of her was missing.
“I’m wondering where we stand.”
“What do you mean?”
“You and me. We haven’t really talked about it since you got back.”
“I didn’t think anything had changed.”
“Me either, I just…” He sighed. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Which is?”
“That I want to be with you, that we want to be with each other.”
“Isn’t that apparent?”
“You’ve been distant with me since you got back. I know Vincent put you in that stasis, and it messed with you, but it has just felt like we took huge steps back toward the friend zone.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m not trying to pressure you into making a decision, I just want to make sure I know where we stand.”
Anastasia studied the lines of his face. His mouth was firm and pulled down at the sides, and his eyes were heavy. How could he ever think she’d want to take a step back? She’d never wanted anything as badly as she wanted to be with him.
Hell, ever since she’d been old enough to know what a crush was, she’d had one on her best friend. Dakota was everything to her. So what the hell was she waiting for? Anastasia rose to her feet and reached down for Dakota. He gripped her hand and stood. Butterflies danced in her stomach, and she took a step closer to him. They were a breath apart, and she looked up into the dazzling blue eyes of the one man she loved.
“I want to be with you, Dakota.” She swallowed hard when his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. Desire pooled in her belly and she tipped her face up.
Dakota leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Anastasia opened beneath him, begging him to take everything she had to offer.
He lifted her up and she fisted her hands in his hair, wrapping her legs around his waist. He began walking, but between her thundering pulse and the feel of his hard body against hers, she couldn’t have cared less where he was taking her.
The entire world could be crumbling apart at the seams and there was not a damn thing she’d want to do about it. Irresponsible? Possibly. But didn’t they deserve a break? Didn’t she deserve to be happy for once?
Dakota pulled away, breathless, and looked into her eyes. His were lust-filled and heavy, and she imagined hers reflected much of the same.
“Ana,” he whispered.
“Please don’t stop, Dakota.”
“Are you sure?” He tilted her head up with his fingertip. “Because while I’ve wanted this for a long damn time, I don’t ever want to pressure you.”
Her response was to pull his mouth back to hers. The kiss was frenzied, and she wrapped more tightly around him as he carried her away from the door. The softness of the mattress was at her back within moments, and Dakota’s hard body pressed against hers.
While she was still afraid, still broken on the inside, this was where she belonged.
Her arms wound their way around his neck and he pulled her closer to him still. The kiss deepened, and she gripped the hem of his shirt, breaking the kiss only long enough to lift it over his head.
His lips found the pulse pounding in her throat, and she leaned her head back, aching for his touch.
“Ana, you need time,” he whispered against her mouth.
“I need you.” She pulled him tighter against her. She tried to not see the scars on his chest from Mitch’s belt, and focused only on the now. The way he stared down at her with hunger in his eyes.
His fingers played with the waistband of her pants until he eased them from her body, slowly torturing her as he allowed his fingers to heat her skin.
“When you’re gone, it feels like I’m bleeding to death. You’re a piece of me, Ana.” He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh. “You’re my reason, the breath in my chest.” He trailed his lips up her body, and lifted the shirt over her head.
“You’re mine, too,” she responded, breathless. He was tearing the pain away from her, piece by piece, until there was nothing but a sore spot left.
He stepped away and she watched as he removed the rest of his clothes, then covered her body with his.
The feel of him above her, against her, deep within her body, was something she needed more than anything else. He was her sustenance, her entire world, and without him, she would fade away into the black.
Lying beside him, Anastasia traced the lines of the scars on Dakota’s chest, pink and raised, still fresh on his taut skin. Candlelight flickered as the storm still raged outside the safety of their walls.
The belt marks from the night she’d found him in that warehouse were etched in harsh lines now, and the sight of it brought tears to her eyes. “I can’t believe he did this to you.” She traced the line of the largest mark down the center of his chest with her index finger before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss to it.
“It wasn’t anything worse than what he did to you.” He toyed with the ends of her hair.
She trailed her fingertips down his abdomen to a round scar. “Gunshot?”
He nodded.
Anastasia sat up and the blanket fell away from her bare body. The flickering light of the candles danced across Dakota’s skin, and she took a moment to soak the sight in.
His body was hard, and she splayed her fingers over the muscles of his abdomen. She reached forward and traced the intricate tribal tattoo that started on the top of his shoulder and wound down over his heart and to his elbow. A police badge was tattooed over his heart, and she traced the lines of it gently.
“For my dad.” He watched her intently as she continued surveying the design. Halfway down his arm, the tattoo exploded in color and circled around a compass that pointed north.
“What’s this for?”
“I thought it looked cool.”
She snorted out a laugh, quickly covering her face with her hands. “I cannot believe I just snorted.”
Laughing Dakota pulled her back down onto his body. “I can, you used to do it all the time.”
“Still, its mortifying now.”
“Why? We’re still best friends.”
“Yeah, but now you’ve seen me naked.”
“That’s true.” He eyed her, a devious smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “So, you’ve gotten quite a look at my ink, can I see yours?”
She rolled onto her stomach so he could see the phoenix tattoo on her back.
“Damn, this is amazing.”
“Zarina did an aweso
me job.”
“Zarina?”
“She tends to stay hidden in her area,” Anastasia answered with a laugh. “She’s a major introvert.”
“She does kickass work, though.”
Dakota trailed his fingers over the lines of the bird, and the sensation of his calloused hands on her skin nearly lulled her to sleep.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he lay back on his side.
“How wonderful this is. Being here with you.”
He leaned forward and kissed her gently before pulling her against him. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
37
Anastasia
“Anastasia.”
She shot out of bed at the sound of the voice, her hand already gripping the dagger she kept at her bedside.
“There is no need for that,” Vincent said, amusement in his tone.
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
“You know I’m not truly there. Your Dakota still lives, doesn’t he?”
She looked down at Dakota sleeping soundlessly on her bed. “What the hell do you want?” she asked the empty room in a hushed whisper.
“You. All I’ve ever wanted is to have a relationship with my niece.” His voice was only inside her head, and Anastasia clenched the dagger she wanted so badly to drive down into his heart.
“You are no family to me, you bastard,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Watch your tongue, girl. I have been patient with you—”
“You call torturing me for nearly two months patience? You are a coward and a monster.”
“I did what I believed was necessary in order to show you the depth of your capabilities.”
“You wanted to use me to destroy everything so you could have more power.”
“I will have your magic.”
“You will not have anything. I will destroy you. Even if it takes every breath from my body, I will see you take your last.”
“You think you have the power to destroy me?” His laughter filled her head, causing her to wince from the pain. “Please, child, you don’t possess even an ounce of what is necessary to destroy me. I will kill him and every single person you care about unless you succumb to me. If you continue to fight against me, I will show you just what I am capable of.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Then you are just as stupid as Mitch claimed you to be.”
“Show yourself, you coward,” she growled into the darkness, but sensed the second he vacated her mind.
Anastasia crept slowly through the house, confirming they were still alone.
Once she was sure they were, she leaned against the counter, the adrenaline leaving her shivering. What if Vincent was right? What if she didn’t possess what she needed to destroy him? What if it was too late?
So much sat on her shoulders; so many people relied on her for a future she couldn’t promise them. What if she failed?
38
Anastasia
Anastasia entered her grandmother’s cottage the next morning.
“Shall we?” Carmen asked as soon as she entered.
“Where are we headed?”
“Just out for a bit. It’s much easier to focus without all these distractions.” Carmen pointed to the wall behind her, where floor-to-ceiling bookcases held hundreds of hardback books. “If I am here, I will want to read one, or three, and then there goes the day.” She smiled, and Anastasia followed her out into the crisp morning air.
“How did you move past the fear?” Anastasia inquired as they walked.
“The fear?”
“Of the dark.”
“Ah, yes.” Carmen shook her head. “That was a tough one for me to move past as well. Fortunately for me, I had much more time to gather myself before I had to use magic again.”
“I don’t know if I can do it,” Anastasia said, voicing her fears.
“Of course you can.” Carmen laughed lightly. “You have already done the hardest part.” At Anastasia’s silence, she continued, “You came back. You tasted the absoluteness of your lineage, and you returned. My dear, you not only have your father’s magic in your blood, but mine as well. It is very rare that someone has two magical lines in their heritage.”
“Is that why I am so powerful?”
“That is one theory.”
“What is the other?”
“I believe that you were blessed with what you needed to complete your purpose.”
“My purpose.”
“You are meant for much more, my dear. Defeating Vincent is only a portion of your destiny, or purpose, if you will.”
Anastasia looked up at the sky as they walked. Birds chirped, and a light breeze carried the scents of the fires the villagers had built to keep warm. So lost in the beauty of the early morning sky, she nearly ran into Carmen when the woman stopped near the edge of the fence.
They sat on a bench and Carmen took a deep breath. “It is sure lovely here, isn’t it?”
“It is the most beautiful place I have ever seen,” Anastasia agreed.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
“A few,” Anastasia admitted. “Mostly I want to know about my—”
“Mother?”
Anastasia nodded and Carmen let out a sigh. “Annabelle was the light of my life, in so many ways. I tried to shield her from magic for years, but as soon as I saw the way she looked at your father I knew it had only been a temporary separation.”
“But she didn’t have any power?”
She shook her head. “Not active anyways. I believe hers were in the salves she made.”
“I wish I would have gotten more of a chance to know her. To know them both, actually.”
Carmen patted Anastasia’s hand. “I wish you would have too.”
“Why did you stay away? I was here for five years and I never heard anything about you.”
“I was hard to reach. As you know, your father wasn’t big on using his magic. He was only comfortable using portals to travel, and when you use a vial, you have to know exactly where you’re going; there is no room for error.”
“But conjuring one isn’t the same?”
“No, you only need to have an idea of where you wish to travel when you conjure one, as the power is much stronger that way.”
“So he never sought you out?”
“I saw him a time or two over the years when he’d been looking for you. But I didn’t know he’d found you until I heard about Annabelle, and by then I was afraid of getting too close. I felt guilty for not being there for her.” Carmen wiped a tear from her wrinkled cheek. “There is no way to go back, but if I could, I never would have left.”
Anastasia touched Carmen’s hand and they watched as a bird the color of eggplant, landed on a nearby branch.
“So do you have any questions for me about magic?” Carmen asked after a moment in silence.
“Is there a way to shield your mind?”
“What do you mean?”
Anastasia swallowed hard; how much to tell her? “I don’t want Vincent to ever be able to manipulate me again. I want to protect myself from him.”
“There is a way to shield yourself from him, but it wouldn’t help against a Brute stasis, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
Anastasia thought back to Vincent’s appearance in her bedroom. “Not just that. I know he can project his voice into people’s minds, and I want to make sure he can’t do that to me.” Ever again.
“Has he done that to you? Recently?”
“Once,” she admitted.
Carmen nodded. “I see. It is strong magic, and as I told you before, magic is like a muscle. It grows the more you use it, so it may take some time for you to get where you need to be with it.”
Time we probably don’t have. Anastasia watched as the purple bird flew past a dead tree, and she grimaced at the dark stain around the base of it.
“Why don’t you try something now?” Carmen wondered. “S
omething small, just to stretch that muscle, so to speak.”
“Okay.” Anastasia straightened, hesitant at the thought of using her magic again. If she focused hard enough, she felt the power calling to her, beckoning her to dive in and lose herself in it.
She shook her head and closed her eyes. The first thing her father had taught her was to conjure light, so that’s what she did. She pictured the small orb of light in her palm, and when she opened her eyes, there it sat. Bright and beautiful, just as she imagined it.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel fine.” Anastasia smiled. She felt no deep thirst for power or bloodlust; only happiness in her heart.
“Your father told Tony that you have the power to freeze time.”
Anastasia nodded. “Yes, but I have only used it once, and I didn’t even know I was doing it.”
“I want you to try again. It won’t work against Vincent, as he has the same power, but it could help in a Brute assault.”
“I don’t know how I did it.”
“Just close your eyes and focus. You need to be able to sense everything that is around you, or you could end up focusing your power on the wrong target. Use all of your senses and reach out.”
39
Anastasia
Anastasia did as she was instructed, but she couldn’t clear her mind. When she opened her eyes, she was staring directly into a smiling Vincent. His silver eyes bore into hers with all the ferocity of a lion awaiting an attack.
She flung herself back off the bench and felt against the fence behind her. He faded away, and Carmen’s voice broke through her fear.
“Anastasia!” she yelled.
Eyes wide, Anastasia focused on her grandmother.
“Close your palm, Anastasia.”
She looked down and saw that she held a ball of flames in her palm; she had conjured it without even realizing what she was doing. She closed her hand, and the fire fizzled out, leaving a small red mark behind.
“What did you see?” Carmen narrowed her eyes, searching her face.
“Vincent. He was here.”
Fighter Page 14
