“Dakota!” Anastasia cried as she jumped into the fight. The shadow that had been following him was still there, keeping him stuck in whatever nightmare it projected into his mind.
“Dakota, it’s not real!” She ducked, using her sword to keep a blade from taking her head off. She dodged the attack and blasted out with her palm, knocking the Brute back.
The Brute slashed out with its blade, slicing into her palm. “Fuck!” she cried out. The pain stung but she ignored it, focusing entirely on the battle. She flung magic at the beasts until she began to feel exhaustion from the drain and, realizing she needed Dakota back in reality to win, she used one last blast to knock the monster from its shadow.
It took form in front of her, and she blasted it one last time for good measure. It screamed—a nightmarish squeal—and disappeared.
Confused, Dakota turned to look at her a moment too late.
“Dakota!” She screamed as a blade pushed through his chest just below his ribs. He stared down at it and then looked back at her as he crumbled to his knees
“No!” she screamed and ran to him.
“Anastasia? Where’s my mom?” he whispered as he fell to the ground.
“She’s fine, Dakota, it wasn’t real. None of it was real.”
At least a dozen more Brutes ran toward her, and she lit her blade again and bared her teeth.
“Bring it on, assholes, I can’t wait to get a piece of you.”
“What is an asshole?” she heard one of the Brutes ask the other before they charged.
Let’s play a game you, bastards. She threw up her hands and watched as they all stopped in place, frozen and unable to move. She focused her magic and released their consciousness. Anger polluted her mind, spurring thoughts that only belonged in the darkest places. She wanted nothing more than for them to feel the pain she was going to inflict, but be helpless to stop it.
“You like to watch people face their worst fears? How about we make you face yours?” She shoved her blade into the stomach of one of the beasts and laughed when the others felt his pain. “That fun for you guys?” she yelled and spun to see the pain reflected on their faces. “How about this?” She brought her blade down on the Brute’s arm, and it cried out. Anastasia laughed and brought her sword up again.
“Anastasia.” Tony’s voice cut through, and she turned to face him. “This isn’t you. You need to come back.”
“They hurt him!” she gestured to Dakota. “They need to pay for what they’ve done.”
“Ana,” Dakota choked out.
His voice brought her back. She went to him, leaving the monsters frozen for Tony and the others.
“Dakota, I need you.” Dakota couldn’t die today. She wouldn’t survive it.
“I’ve had worse.” He tried to smile, but coughed, and blood came up.
“Remember what I said?” she whispered. “I will bring you back and kill you myself.”
Anastasia pressed her hands against he wound in his chest, and pushed down to apply pressure.
He stared up at her and tried to smile. “You don’t scare me.”
The world seemed to stop around them, and a tingle started in her hand. It ran up her arm, like a jolt of electricity, climbing until it reached her chest.
The power was unfamiliar, something she’d never felt before, but she grasped at it. Threads of magic snapped in the air around them like lightening, and Anastasia poured everything she had into Dakota.
All of the light inside her, and even some of the dark.
She closed her eyes, feeling the drain on her power, but she kept going. She had no idea what she was doing to him, but the wholeness she experienced within the power gave her hope.
“Ana.”
Anastasia opened her eyes and looked into Dakota’s familiar blues.
“What the hell just happened?” Tony asked.
Anastasia looked up to see all the Fighters, Argento, and his Brutes staring down at them. She looked back down at Dakota who looked just as confused as everyone else.
“I have no damn clue,” he said.
Anastasia lifted her hands. Dakota’s wound was still there, but it had stopped bleeding, in fact, it looked partially healed. Had she done that? She stared down at her hands. The cut on her palm was still open and bleeding, so how had she healed Dakota’s wound?
Tony knelt beside her. “We need to get him out of here.”
She nodded and got to her feet. One of Argento’s Brutes, Griffith, reached down and lifted Dakota from the ground.
“I can try to walk.” He winced when Griffith settled him against his chest.
“Let’s not risk making your injury worse,” Argento said and nodded to Griffith who headed toward the gate.
Anastasia still stared down at her hands.
“Anastasia, we need to go.” Argento touched her shoulder gently.
“What else is out there?” She turned to face him.
“What do you mean?”
“There are you guys, and now these boogeymen… what else is out there?” she repeated. “What other monsters should we worry about?”
“We are hardly monsters, Anastasia. The Brutes were once peaceful. It was your uncle who changed that.”
“I know that. I’m sorry.” She shook her head as her anger dissipated. “That was rude of me. What about these shadow monsters?”
“Trepidos. They were never peaceful.”
“Are there more like them?”
“No. Not like them.”
“So what else is out there?”
“There are so many different races, it would be easier for me to explain them if we see them.”
A loud bang pulled them from their conversation, and they ran around a corner just as one of Vincent’s Brutes dragged a body-shaped bag toward the forest.
Argento bolted for the Brute. He shoved him away from the covered body and dispatched him quickly.
He knelt and gently uncovered the body of the most beautiful woman Anastasia had ever seen.
Blonde—nearly white hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves. Her eyes were frozen open, twin baby blues that would never behold the sunrise again.
“No, no,” Argento cried out, cradling her to his chest. “Calista, I’m so sorry.” He held her tightly, rocking her as a mother would an infant.
“Argento?” Anastasia started to kneel beside him, but she caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned, ready to defend the grieving Brute king.
One of Argento’s warriors cradled an infant in his arms, and she lowered her sword.
“My king.” The Brute knelt beside him on the ground.
Argento looked to him, and his eyes widened when he saw the small bundle in the Brute’s arms. “It is her, my king,” he told him, gently placing the baby in his arms.
Argento stood and began walking toward the gate, his eyes never leaving the face of the infant.
“Who is that?” Anastasia asked, pointing to the woman lying on the ground.
“That is Calista, our queen.” The Brute knelt and closed her eyes. “She is Argento’s wife.”
Anastasia stared down at the battered woman and her heart shattered. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Why would the Brutes do this to their own queen?
“The baby is his daughter. Calista went missing right after they discovered she was with child. It had been such a happy time for my people, as it is tough for our women to become pregnant.” The Brute knelt and covered her face. “We need to follow to ensure he is not attacked.”
Anastasia nodded, and the Brute lifted the queen’s body.
49
Anastasia
The village was grim as they entered. The bodies had been laid out and covered with sheets. The sight was becoming an all too familiar one.
People knelt next to the bodies of their loved ones and cried. The Brute she’d walked back with carried Calista’s body to the Brute camp, and Argento carried his new child into the cottage he had made his own.
She looked over as Shane approached. “What is it?”
“Dakota. The wound, it started bleeding again.”
Her stomach flipped and she ran on shaky legs to the medical cottage. He’d been fine, though, hadn’t he? The bleeding had stopped!
Elizabeth sat in the corner, Tony’s arms around her, and she stared at Tilly s the woman worked on Dakota. His face was pale and he was unconscious.
“No, he was fine. What happened?” She rushed to him.
“He needs blood,” Tilly told her while she worked. “Even if I can get him closed up, he isn’t going to survive. We don’t have the supplies here to do a transfer, and if he doesn’t get one soon, he is going to die.”
The door opened and Anastasia didn’t bother turning to see who it was. She placed her hands on Dakota’s face and willed him to open his eyes. Maybe if she touched him again?
“Dammit! I can’t get his wound to close. It seems as if it just keeps reopening,” Tilly muttered, frustrated.
“Oh, my.” Rayden, who came in moments before stepped forward. He stood and watched silently as Tilly worked. “They must have coated the blade in poison.”
“What?” Tilly asked as she re-stitched the same place she’d stitched only moments before.
“It is eating at your stitches.” He gestured to the thread as it dissolved. “I’m not sure what would cause that, as I don’t know of any poison that would continue to reopen the wound, so I am not sure how to fight it.”
Anastasia squeezed Dakota’s hand and willed his injury to heal. Where was the power she’d felt before? She couldn’t lose him.
“Whatever you are doing, Anastasia, keep it up.”
“Huh?” Anastasia opened her eyes. Her skin glowed. She watched with hope as Tilly was able to close the hole in Dakota’s stomach and then held her breath, making sure it stayed closed.
“How did you do that?” Tilly asked.
“I’m not sure I even did anything.”
“You are a healer,” Rayden said proudly. “That is magnificent.”
“She did that earlier, after the attack,” Shane said.
But she hadn’t done that earlier, at least not exactly what she was doing now. The power was different, more familiar now. Was it because she’d already accessed it?
“Why isn’t he waking up?” Elizabeth asked, joining them at the bedside.
“He needs blood, and soon,” Tilly said.
“What if we go back to Seattle? We can take him to the hospital,” Anastasia said.
“I will go with you.” Tony stood. “I can carry him, and fight if necessary.”
Anastasia nodded, and Tony lifted the unconscious Dakota.
“I am going, too.” Elizabeth wiped her face. “Tilly can handle things here.”
Not wasting any time, Anastasia closed her eyes and called to her power. A wind began to pick up in the cottage, and when the swirling light appeared, they all stepped through with no hesitation.
They appeared moments later in the alleyway beside Elizabeth’s hospital.
“Let’s get him inside. We are running out of time.” Tony headed for the emergency entrance and the doors opened before them.
An older man with glasses looked up from behind the counter. His eyes widened and he gaped at them. “Elizabeth? Where have you been? We have been worried about you.”
“Hi, Richard. I’m sorry, I’ve been very ill. My son, he fell, and I was able to get the bleeding stopped, but he needs a transfusion.” Tears filled her eyes again.
“Let’s get him inside, then. Nurse! We have a trauma victim!” Richard yelled behind him. He looked back, eyeing the weapons that Tony and Anastasia had strapped to their waists and slung over their shoulders.
At his glance, Anastasia faked a smile. “We were going to a Renaissance festival.”
He seemed to buy her explanation, but held up a hand. “Still, you will need to leave those in your car, so you don’t scare security. We can get him in, just come to find us when you’re done.”
Two nurses pushed a gurney toward them, both of them glancing nervously at Tony as they approached.
“It’s okay, Tony.” Elizabeth touched his arm, and he gently set Dakota down. “I will be fine. You guys go and change out of your costumes.”
“Come on, Tony.” Anastasia gripped his arm. “We don’t want to scare security,” she said, adding Richard’s earlier warning.
“I will be right back.” Tony kissed Elizabeth, then turned to follow Anastasia. “We can go to Dakota’s apartment and change. I think it’s this way.” She headed up the street, then turned around when Tony didn’t follow.
Eyes wide, he slowly surveyed the area. “What is that?” Tony asked, eyeing the cars that drove by.
“Those are cars. They take you from one place to another.”
“By themselves?” He looked at her, shocked.
“No, you drive them.”
He watched everything with fascination. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to see this for the first time. Terrenia had been an adjustment for her, but at least she had studied time periods that had similar attributes. This was all new for Tony.
She breathed a sigh of relief when Dakota’s building came into view and raced up the stairs. “I promise I will show you everything, but I want to get back to the hospital as soon as possible.”
They reached Dakota’s door and Anastasia gripped the handle. “Dammit, its locked.”
“Here.”
“If we break Dakota’s door, he’s going to be pissed.” Anastasia looked around the hall, grateful no one was outside their apartments. Using what was left of her energy, Anastasia conjured another portal she hoped would lead inside the apartment.
“Wait here.” She stepped through the portal and into Dakota’s living room.
After opening the door, she let Tony inside, then secured the lock again. Spots swam in her vision and she swayed on her feet.
“Woah.” Tony steadied her. “You okay?”
“I think I’ve used a bit too much magic recently.” She straightened. “I’m okay now.”
“Let’s take it easy,” he said as he studied the room. “So this is an apartment?”
“Yes.” Anastasia removed her weapons and set them on the kitchen table, then she went into Dakota’s room to find them both some clothes that weren’t covered in blood.
She found some sweats and a large t-shirt she hoped would fit Tony, and one of Dakota’s button-up long sleeves for her. She put it on over her shirt and kept her leather pants and boots on.
“Try these on.” She handed Tony a pair of Dakota’s tennis shoes. He tried to squeeze his large feet into them, but his heel wouldn’t go in.
“Dammit,” he cursed and tossed the shoes.
“Just wear your boots.” She headed for the door as Tony pulled his boots back on.
“I look ridiculous.” Tony scoffed as he looked down at himself.
“Yes, you do,” she agreed with a slight smile. “But, surprisingly, you will fit in a lot more this way.”
“Strange world,” he said as he followed her out into the hall.
50
Seattle
Dakota
When Dakota woke, a wave of pain hit him like a ton of bricks. He winced, and he pressed a hand to his stomach. It stung as if it had been split in half, which it had, he supposed, remembering the earlier battle. He did his best to sit up when he felt the weight of someone lying next to him. He looked over to Ana, who was curled into his side. Seeing her visibly relaxed him, and he settled back down into the pillows.
“She hasn’t moved since we got here,” Tony whispered from the corner. He stood from his seat on the floor and moved to stand next to the bed.
“My mom?” Dakota asked cautiously.
“She’s fine.” Tony pointed to a chair in the corner where Elizabeth slept soundly.
Dakota took a deep breath. “What happened? The Brutes had her, is she hur
t?”
“It was all an illusion. They never had her.”
“But how?”
“A Trepido got to you.”
“Trepido?”
Tony’s brows drew together. “Nasty monsters, they force you to see your worst fears play out. They take joy from the pain they cause others to inflict on themselves. Had Anastasia not gotten to you, you would have killed yourself or been killed by a Brute who was taking in the show.”
“Shit. So it was a trap.”
Tony nodded.
Dakota looked around, taking in his surroundings. “Where are we?”
“You’re in Seattle.”
“Andrew? The others?”
“Andrew is fine, we got to him in time, but the others were gone before we could get to them.”
“Shit,” Dakota muttered, closing his eyes. “How many did we lose?”
“Three of the men that went in with you, and two more that went in with Argento and me, There’s more news as well, I’m afraid.”
Dakota opened his eyes.
“Argento found his wife, but she was already gone when we got there. She’d been pregnant when she was kidnapped and gave birth to the baby while captive.”
“The baby?”
“A girl; she’s fine. Argento has her now.”
Dakota nodded. There was no replacement for the loss of his wife, but at least Argento wasn’t completely alone.
“How long until I’m out of here?” Dakota asked, looking up at the machines.
“I think I can get you out later today,” Elizabeth answered from her post in the corner. “But only so that you can be put on bed rest at home.”
Dakota groaned quietly. “Bed rest?”
“Nonnegotiable. You almost died, Dakota.”
“How did I survive?”
“Anastasia closed the wound enough to slow the bleeding. It was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. The entire air pulsed with the magic… you could feel it,” Tony told him. “Rayden said she was a healer. The Brutes had coated the blade in poison that kept eating the stitches.”
“That’s awesome,” Dakota said dryly. “Any word on Vincent?”
Fighter Page 18
