They wouldn’t know now, he supposed, so there was no need to focus on the past when there was already such an uncertain future ahead of them.
He turned the corner to his mom’s cabin and paused. She and Tony sat cozied up together on the front porch. Tony kissed her lightly, and she smiled.
Dakota cleared his throat and walked closer, his eyes trained to the ground.
“Dakota.” His mom’s stern voice immediately took him back to his teenage years and he looked up at her.
“I’ll leave for a bit and let you two talk.” Tony started to turn away, but Dakota waved his hand.
“Tony, please stay. What I have to say I need to say to both of you, so it will save me some time.”
“Go on.” His mom crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him down her nose just as she had done when he got in trouble as a kid.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at the two of you. Mom, I know you were only keeping Tony’s trust, and Tony, you were keeping Anastasia’s.”
“I would have told you, had I believed this was ever a possibility,” Tony said, sitting on the steps. “This is my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, Tony. It’s that bastard Vincent who is to blame.” His mom ran a hand down Tony’s arm.
“Have Carmen and Rayden found anything out?”
“Not yet.” Tony rubbed his hands over his face. “Carmen is feeling the magic, too. The protection she has placed on the house has nearly drained the woman. I worry that if we don’t figure something out, we may lose her as well.”
“Can she stop? We can take other precautions.”
“That’s what I said, but she is stubborn and says she can handle it.”
“Now we know where Anastasia gets her hard head from,” Dakota’s mother said lightly, turning to go back into the house. “Dakota, would you like to stay for dinner?”
“Thanks, Mom, but I’m going to head back.”
“You should really get some sleep. I can take tonight’s watch,” Tony said, gripping his shoulder.
“No thanks, Tony, I want to be there.”
“I will have Tilly bring you some food,” Elizabeth said, closing the door behind her.
Dakota smiled and headed back toward the cottage. After sending Argento back to his camp, he took his seat against the door and fell asleep looking at the stars. In his dreams, he imagined life the way it could be once all of this was over, and he prayed he got a chance to see that future become a reality.
42
Dakota
When Dakota woke, it was still dark. His heart was pounding, and it took him a moment to shake the sleep and figure out where the feeling of panic was coming from. The scent of smoke filled the night air, but it was far too early to be coming from anywhere inside their village walls.
Kaley stood on the porch, staring out into the night, and when he got to his feet, she broke into a run. Dakota followed, making his way to the nearest sentry tower and climbing up the ladder.
Large flames leapt into the sky about a mile outside the village. He heard the crackling from the burning trees and his pulse pounded as adrenaline surged through him.
“Shit!” He jumped down and sprinted to Argento’s camp.
“Argento!” he called.
Someone rustled inside the tent, then Argento peeked out. “Dakota, what is it?”
“You need to see this.” He turned and ran for the tower again, but this time Argento was on his heels.
“This is not good. Even if we manage to hold off whatever attack is headed our way, we will not be able to put those fires out.”
“This whole fucking thing was a trap,” Dakota growled. “He knew we’d use Carmen to protect Ana, so she’d be too drained to protect the village or even sense him coming. Son of a bitch!”
Argento watched the fire, his brow creased.
“How much time do you think we have?” Dakota asked.
“Not long. They will attack before dawn.”
“We need to gather everyone and get them ready to evacuate. I bet those fuckers are out there waiting for us to leave.”
“Do you think Vincent is out there?”
“I think he is the one pulling strings, but I don’t think he’s here, fucking coward.”
“We need to prepare for war.” Argento climbed down the ladder and Dakota followed. “I will rally my warriors. You get Tony and the Fighters.”
“We will not cower!” Tilly shouted as Tony addressed the villagers. The center of the village was packed with its occupants. They stared back at Dakota and Tony, wide-eyed and afraid. How the hell was he supposed to tell them what might be waiting for them beyond the flames?
“It’s not cowering, Tilly, it’s called being cautious. What will you do when they come in here? Would you put Robbie at risk?” Tony asked.
“I can help!” she insisted.
Robbie stepped forward. “Tilly, I can’t focus unless I know you are safe.”
“We are staying,” Elizabeth said. “If it makes you big bad men feel better, then we can stay inside the medical cottage. That way, if there are any injuries, we can tend to them.” Elizabeth folded her arms and jutted her chin out.
Dakota recognized that stance; she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Fine.” They didn’t have time to argue. Not when they had an entire village about to go up in flames.
Robbie shot Dakota a glare that could cut glass, but Dakota shrugged. “It’s going to do us no good to argue with them, Robbie. They have made up their minds, and as of now, we are wasting time.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be much help.” Carmen staggered over to them. “I am fairly worn out.” She stumbled, and Tony caught her.
“Drop the barrier,” Dakota said.
“Now is not the time, Dakota,” she warned. “If Vincent is close and I drop Anastasia’s protection, he will be able to get to her.”
“Drop it,” Dakota told her again. “He won’t be able to get to her. Get into the bunker and seal the door. Keep everyone quiet. We need to stay inside the walls until we know for sure what’s waiting for us. They haven’t made a move yet, which makes me think they’re waiting for us to leave.”
“Where are you going?” Elizabeth called after him.
“I'm going to drag Ana back to reality whether she likes it or not,” he said over his shoulder. Let them try to stop him.
As he walked away, Argento began commanding his warriors. “You form a line inside the gate. They want a fight? We will give them one. I know that you know them, and at one point, they were your neighbors and very possibly your friends, but they have chosen a side, and it’s the wrong side. We will show them just how wrong they are.”
Dakota pushed the door open to the training cottage and stepped into the dark. “Ana?” He shut the door behind him, quickly locking it. She was not going to push him away anymore. He was either leaving with her or not at all.
“Leave now,” she demanded from the corner of the living area.
“I’m not leaving.”
Her body began glowing and she stood. The Anastasia he knew was in there somewhere, and he was going to show her the way back.
“You are making a mistake.” She showed her teeth to him. “Vincent, you will not win. I’ve had enough of your mind games.”
“I’m not Vincent,” he said, swallowing a bit of fear as she stepped closer.
“Of course not,” she spat. “This time you’re real, right?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she circled him, predator and prey.
“It’s me, Ana. The same Dakota you grew up with, who has been in love with you since we were kids.”
“You shut up!” she yelled, lunging for him. “You don’t know anything about Dakota!”
“I know everything about myself and damn near everything about you.”
“Lies!”
“I know that when you were eight, you fell and skinned your knee climbing a tree with me.”
He saw the flash of recogniti
on in her eyes and knew that she was in there somewhere.
“I know that you used to climb over to my house almost every night to sleep because you said it was the only place you felt safe.”
Anastasia circled him, her body providing enough light to illuminate the inside of the cabin. Bright flames danced on her palms, and Dakota briefly wondered if she was going to kill him. At least if he went out he wouldn’t have to live without her.
“The Brutes are here, Ana, the ones who have been responsible for all those deaths of the ones you love. Annabelle,” he said, and pain flashed on her face.
“You know nothing about Annabelle!”
“Gregory.”
She lunged for him and made contact, knocking them both to the ground. Her palms were hot on his chest as she straddled him. One hand burned against the skin above his heart, but instead of pushing it away, he gripped it. “You feel my heart? It’s real. Those scars on your back are real, as is all of the pain, both physical and mental, you grew up with. Losing your parents, that was real, and those people out there, your people who are going to die without you tonight, are real, Ana. Pull yourself out of whatever hole you are in and start seeing what is around you. I love you, and that love will last until my very last breath leaves my lungs and probably even after that because how I feel about you is the damned most real thing in this entire world. Feel it.” He gripped her hair and dragged her mouth down to his. The kiss was harsh, and he poured all the anger he felt into it.
When she ripped her head back from him, he could see that he was getting to her. The blazing blue of her eyes was dimming back down, and her hands fisted in his shirt.
“Kill me or come back, Ana, because death would be preferable to the pain I feel knowing I can’t help you.”
The cabin went dark as the light faded from her skin. The only sounds were their breathing, and he waited until she spoke, afraid he might set her off again.
“Dakota?” she whispered.
“Yes.” He pulled her down against his body and buried his face in her hair. “We need you, Ana.”
“What’s happening?” She climbed off him and pulled him to his feet.
“We’re under attack.”
“He used me again,” she growled. “He fucking used me.”
“Easy, Ana,” Dakota warned when her fingers sparked. “There is plenty for you to demolish outside. But you’re going to want to put shoes on first.”
43
Anastasia
Anastasia followed Dakota back into town. Fighters raced to their posts, but the rest of the villagers had disappeared into the bunkers. Not that the underground space would protect them from the fires, but she hoped she could.
She climbed up to the top of the sentry tower and stared out at the burning forest beyond. The flames had devoured dozens of trees on their way toward Terrenia. Closing her eyes, Anastasia focused on the power in her veins and a blast of magic rocked through her.
She jolted, and when she opened her eyes, the leaping flames had turned to smoldering ash. Take that, asshole. Vincent had tried to break her, again. He’d used her as a distraction so he could get to her people.
No more.
Brute calls erupted from the trees as dozens poured out toward her village. Anastasia climbed down from the tower and walked to the other side of the gate. Fighters launched into attack and Anastasia unsheathed her sword.
She could feel the drain from the power it took to put out the fires, so she would have to use her physical strength to fight.
For a moment it seemed as if time slowed to merely a crawl as she watched the battle that raged before her eyes. Dakota had immediately thrown himself at a Brute who was trying to get through the gate. His forehead creased as he plunged his sword into the beast’s chest. Argento dispatched two of the enemy Brutes and was working toward a group who had attacked a Fighter who was much too young to be beyond the gate.
Her heartbeat quickened and the excitement of the war pounded in her blood. These bastards were going to pay.
Anastasia lunged at a Brute who took an interest in her, and time sped back up. She sliced through him as if he were nothing more than a nuisance, leaving a smoldering corpse behind her. She lunged and dodged, seeing nothing but what was in front of her. Blades clashed together, filling the night air with the sound of war. Blood splattered her as she fought, the movements blurring together.
Brutes fell at her feet, and the satisfaction she felt at not being a victim filled her. Mitch had been the first to victimize her, and even though Gregory brought her back and she became something more, Vincent managed to return her to the weak, shell of a person she’d promised to never become again.
A Brute struck his arm out, sliding his massive hand around her throat. She reached down and grabbed the dagger at her waist, driving it down into the beast’s throat. Anastasia tumbled to the ground, and when she stood, Brady faced her. His eyes were black, and she could all but see Vincent above him pulling strings.
“Brady.”
“Anastasia.”
“I know you are still in there, Brady.” She lowered her sword and stepped toward him.
“You are truly foolish.”
“Brady, remember all the times we ran through the woods together? With Kaley? Remember when you asked for my advice about Emma?”
His face twitched, but his eyes remained soulless.
“Oh, but Emma is dead, isn’t she, Brady?” Vincent’s voice filled her head, and by the pained look on Brady’s face, he heard the words too. “The Brutes slaughtered her before your very eyes.”
“You mean the Brutes that you are working with, Vincent? The monsters you are forcing Brady to work with? Why don’t you show yourself and we can end this now?” She warily stepped to the side to check behind her.
“I am needed elsewhere at the moment. Besides, it will all be over soon enough.”
She felt his presence leave her mind, and she turned her attention back to Brady.
“Brady, I know you are in there. Please come back,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes. Next to Dakota, Brady had been her best friend, the only other person she had confided in.
She watched the war on his face as he fought, the lines creasing and his pupils dilating and retracting. When he finally looked up at her, she sighed with relief at the sight of his kind brown eyes. She watched them widen with fear just as he lunged for her.
“Anastasia!”
He shoved her out of the way, and she watched in horror as a Brute buried its sword in Brady’s chest.
“No!” she screamed. She threw her palm up, striking the beast with flames. He fell to the ground, and she ran to Brady.
His body shook, and his hands clutched at the front of his shirt. “I'm. Sorry. I—I – I don’t want to die.” Blood pooled in the corner of his mouth and tears slipped down his cheeks. She cradled his head in her lap and brushed the hair from his face.
“Shh, Brady. It’s okay, you aren’t going to die.” Tears filled her eyes as she stared down at him.
“Please tell my mom and Sarah that I…” His breath came in spurts. He coughed, splattering her face with blood. She reached down to cover his wound with her hands and apply pressure, but the blood continued to seep through her fingers. “Someone help!” she screamed, but the sound was drowned out by the battle around them.
“Brady, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I should have been here.”
“Not your fault. You’re my best friend.” Tears fell down his face.
“Hang on, Brady! I will get help.” She gently set his head on the ground and stood. “Help!” she screamed again, trying to lift him.
“No. Use,” he muttered.
“Brady, please, I need you.” She didn’t have the strength to carry him, and everyone around her was too occupied trying to fight off the enemy.
“Thank you, Anastasia.”
“Brady, please.”
His body stopped moving as he drew his last breath. Empty eyes stared up a
t her and she turned her head to the sky and screamed.
44
Dakota
The scream ripped through the sound of the battle and one by one Brutes fell to the ground turning into smoldering piles of ash before their very eyes. Dakota searched frantically for the origin of the noise, and his eyes landed on Ana who knelt next to a body.
Dakota raced for her, pushing past the Fighters who stared dumfounded at their now dead opponents. His arm stung from where the blade had torn it open just before his opponent spontaneously combusted, but he ignored the pain now, focusing only on the woman in front of him.
Her face and hands were slick with blood, but she otherwise looked uninjured. She cradled Brady’s body in her arms, tears streaming down pale cheeks.
“Oh, Ana.” He fell to the ground beside her.
“He saved me.” She cried and kissed his forehead. “He saved me and he died for it.” She buried her face in Brady’s chest and her shoulders shook.
“Ana, this isn’t your fault.” Dakota rubbed a hand on her back and swallowed his own pain. Brady had been his responsibility while she’d been gone. He’d promised himself he’d keep Ana’s friend safe, and he failed—miserably.
“I should have been here, I should have done something!” She screamed up to the sky.
The agony in her voice ripped Dakota’s heart from his chest.
“You were here; there was nothing you could have done.”
“You can’t possibly know that.” She stared at him, her bloodshot eyes glaring straight through him.
“Ana—”
“Oh no, Brady.”
Dakota looked up at Shane who stood just behind him. The Fighter knelt on the other side of Ana, and reached forward to close Brady’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Anastasia.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and her bottom lip quivered. “Let’s get him home.” Shane reached down and lifted Brady’s body.
If Shane felt the strain, he didn’t show it, and he carried Brady’s body like it was light as a feather.
Fighter (Prophecy Series Book 2) Page 16