She squealed and jumped back, wincing with pain from the quick movement. A large cat slept directly outside of her door. The cat was black except for a few lines of brown that seemed to outline spots. It yawned and stretched lazily. When it looked up at her, its eyes were a fierce green, the color of emeralds.
“I think that cat would have slept on your bed, had I let it. She hasn’t left your side since the attack.” Gregory stood in the kitchen holding a mug of steaming liquid. “How are you feeling?” he asked cautiously, moving toward her.
“Like I was hit by a bus, and then it backed over me.”
“I’ve seen those buses, and I think that’s a fairly accurate statement. You could have died, Anastasia. Had it not been for her”—he motioned toward the large cat—“we probably wouldn’t have gotten there in time.”
“Then I feel I must say a thank you.” Anastasia moved to kneel, but the cat stood, so she stepped back and watched in awe as the creature stretched out to its full size. The cat was nearly as large as a male lion.
“I’ve never seen one in person before, only sketches,” Gregory said. “She’s a Terrenian Feline. They are a bit larger here than in your Seattle.” He laughed. “But they are very rare, and very few have ever seen them.”
“She’s beautiful.” Anastasia ran her hands through the cat’s thick, black hair, and she began to purr.
“She’s yours or, rather, you’re hers.” Gregory laughed. “I'm not quite sure how that works.”
“I'm going to call you Kaley.” Anastasia smiled, and Kaley rubbed against her. ”She must be, what, at least four hundred pounds?”
“She’s not even fully grown. I would estimate she is only about a year old.”
Anastasia’s jaw dropped. “How big do they get?”
“The largest one ever seen was estimated at twelve hundred pounds and over seven feet when standing on its hind legs.”
“Oh, wow.”
“She took out two Brutes by the time we got there. Maximus was gone already.”
“Brady?” Anastasia’s heart jumped.
“He’s fine. Has a few cuts and bruises, but he’s been here every day to check on you.”
“Every day? How long have I been out?"
“Four days.”
Four days? How had she slept that long? “Any sign of Patrick and Leo?” she asked hopefully.
“No. We’ve searched, but they are just gone. I fear they may have been taken by the Brutes.”
“I'm so sorry, Gregory, I should have listened and stayed out of the trees.”
“Anastasia, you saved Brady. While I wish you would have listened, or come and gotten us first, I can’t deny the fact that I might have had to tell a mother that her young son was not coming home—”
“But Leo and Patrick,” she interrupted.
“Knew the risks of becoming Fighters. They put their lives on the line each time they marched into battle against those monsters. What has been done cannot be undone, and would you have done it any differently knowing the outcome? Could you have chosen in favor of losing Brady?”
“No,” she admitted. She would have still gone into those woods, and Patrick and Leo would have too. After she’d charged into the trees, Leo yelled to Patrick because he wanted to go in after Brady as well. Remembering this helped to ease some of the guilt in her heart.
“It’s terrible that we haven’t found them, and I’m still holding out hope that they will turn up, having just gotten lost, but until then, we need to focus on the problems at hand.” He sat at the table, and she walked slowly over to take a seat across from him.
“What problems? Other than Maximus,” she added.
“The Brutes have taken out two of the villages within a ten-mile radius of us. The scouts found nothing but rubble.”
“Is it possible that the villagers escaped?”
“It’s unlikely. There was no one in the outlying woods, and the nearby villages that are still standing were scouted out for survivors. There was no one.”
“What are they doing with them?”
“I don’t know.”
“I should have killed him.”
“That’s not who you are, Anastasia. You may have to become that person someday, but had you killed Maximus, that act would have been for nothing other than taunting you. You didn’t know what he was capable of.”
“How did she kill the Brutes?” Anastasia motioned to the cat.
“I’m not really sure.” He rubbed his hand over his chin in thought. “For us, only platinum-coated blades or decapitation will put one down. When she attacked, she went for the throats. I think it might be something in her bite.” Kaley padded over and rubbed against Gregory.
“Anastasia!” Brady burst through the door, his mother and sister on his heels.
“Hey, kid.” She smiled and accepted his hug, grunting with pain when he slammed into her.
“Oh, sorry!” He stepped back cautiously.
“It’s okay. How are you?”
He shrugged it off. “I'm good. Mom says I’ll have some scars, but that’s okay because girls like scars. It means I’m tough.”
Anastasia smiled. Nothing could keep this kid down. He was the most vibrant thirteen-year-old she’d ever met, and she honestly doubted there was anything that could dull the light in his eyes.
“Thank you, Anastasia.” Brady’s mother took Anastasia’s hand in her own and squeezed lightly. “If it hadn’t been for you—”
“You don’t have to thank me, Serena. Besides, had it not been for me, Maximus might not have taken him anyway.” She looked down at her feet.
“Don’t you blame yourself for that evil boy, Anastasia. You can no more control him and his actions than you can control the weather.” She shook her head lightly. “I will thank you. Because of you, I do not have to plan a funeral for my son.” She smiled. “If you need anything at all, you only have to ask. I’ve brought some dinner with us if you two are hungry?” She pulled the small sack off her shoulder and set it gently on the table.
Anastasia’s stomach grumbled.
Sarah laughed, so she looked over and saw that Kaley had rolled onto her back so that she and Brady could rub her stomach.
“I named her Kaley.”
“I like her.” The young girl, who had just turned eleven, laughed again.
“Are you two hungry?” Serena asked.
“I could eat,” Gregory answered. “Anastasia?”
She nodded, still watching the kids petting the giant feline.
“Wonderful, how about we head back to my house and I’ll cook you both a giant dinner. We’ll grab Tony on the way.”
“Perhaps we should stay in,” Gregory said, eyeing Anastasia.
She shook her head. “I need to get some fresh air. Dinner sounds great.”
“I tried to access my magic that night in the woods,” Anastasia told Gregory as they sat on the steps together after returning from dinner. “No matter how hard I focused, nothing came to me.”
“You were frightened. You have to be in control of the power. Until you are more adept, it may take some time to access. You have to have a clear mind.”
“That’s why, when I began training, you told me that fighting angry would do me no good, because I wouldn’t be able to focus on the bigger picture.”
“In a way, yes, although, with your magic, anger seems to be your trigger. But that night in the clearing you were afraid for Brady and for yourself. You have to be able to control that fear, use it to channel your magic, or it will cause a block.”
She nodded silently and continued looking at the sky. Kaley slept lazily at the base of the stairs, but she would be ready to pounce the second any danger showed its face.
“When can we start training again?”
“You need some time to heal first, Anastasia. We can begin our training next week. I also want you to start coming to the village meetings with me. You need to become acquainted with the Fighters and be more involved in what’s going
on out there.” He pointed to the fence.
“Okay,” she agreed quietly.
“As much as I want to deny it, your destiny lies in fighting this war, and I want you to be as prepared as possible.”
They continued staring out at the steadily darkening sky. Insects chirped around them, singing their nightly songs while Anastasia pondered all that had happened the last few days.
If she had any hope of living up to the prophecy, she was going to need to train a hell of a lot harder than she had been. She was already so different than the night Gregory had brought her here three months ago, but she still had a ways to go.
24
Anastasia
“You sure about this?” Zarina asked Anastasia cautiously.
“Absolutely. Can you do it?”
Zarina narrowed her eyes at Anastasia. “Girl, I have been tatting up the Fighters of Terrenia for nearly ten years. I can do this. I’ll warn you though, a tattoo like this is going to take some time, and it’s going to hurt like hell.”
“I can take it.” She lifted her shirt and lay down on the table in Zarina’s house that also doubled as her tattoo parlor. Her black hair was braided back and then rolled into a bun, and the vest she wore revealed arms that were completely covered in tattoos.
Since there was no electricity, the artists of Terrenia inserted ink beneath the skin using a sharpened bone shard.
Anastasia had never gotten a tattoo before, but she imagined Zarina’s method was going to hurt a whole hell of a lot more than it would have back in Seattle.
“All right, let me know if it gets to be too much. You may want to bite down on this.” She handed Anastasia a leather strap, and after taking it, Anastasia put it in her mouth and closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything but what was about to happen.
She opened them just in time to see Zarina dip the bone in ink, and she bit down as the pain radiated through her body.
Remember why you’re doing this. She was damn tired of seeing the scars on her back every time she caught a glimpse in the mirror. The tattoo would cover them, and Anastasia could finally let go of that night, those people, and the horrors of her childhood.
She winced again, but tried her best to keep her back steady.
“You good?” Zarina asked.
Anastasia nodded, and briefly took the strap from her mouth. “Keep going.”
“Look at that! You survived!” Tony greeted her when she finally stepped out after what felt like an eternity.
“Barely,” Anastasia responded with an exhausted grin. Zarina had given her a loose button-up shirt to wear instead of the short-sleeved one she’d been in, and while her back screamed in pain, she didn’t regret a single moment.
It felt good to do something—anything—to erase part of her past.
“Want a drink?”
“A drink?”
“I think you’ve earned some Terrenian whiskey,” he said with a smile. “Let’s head over to the town center and grab some.”
Anastasia followed Tony through the cottages and back down to the village’s center.
People laughed and danced, enjoying the clear night and the cool breeze.
Her dad was nowhere to be seen, probably holed up in the cottage with a book in his hand.
My dad. Damn, it felt good to say that.
Tony stopped near a group of Fighters Anastasia had met briefly during training. After pouring amber liquid into two handmade mugs, he handed her one and clinked his against hers.
Knowing he was watching to see how she reacted to the liquid, Anastasia squared her shoulders and brought the mug to her lips. The burn was instant as the whiskey made its way down her throat, but so was the warmth that spread through her body.
The liquid was strong, but had a sweet aftertaste, and while she knew it was going to take some time to get used to it, she decided she quite liked it.
“Atta girl!” Tony laughed heartily. “That’s it, though, you got it? This shit is strong, and a hangover is not what you want, trust me.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t get one,” she taunted.
Tony laughed. “Yeah, you’d liked to think that, wouldn’t you, kid?” One of the men she knew as Andrew touched Tony on the shoulder, and they stepped to the side to talk.
“Good night?”
Anastasia turned to see Shane, the only Fighter close to her age. “Yeah, got a tattoo.”
“Yikes, good for you. I still haven’t mustered up the courage to get more than this.” He gestured to the band around his left arm; a symbol all Fighters received once they’d completed training.
“She did my back.”
“What did you get?”
“A phoenix.”
“That’s awesome. Can I see?” Even in the dark she could see the lust reflected in his eyes and the subtle way his mouth hung open slightly.
“Maybe some other time,” she responded sweetly and took another drink of her whiskey.
“I’ll take you up on that.” Shane smiled and headed to the group of women who were dancing to the beat being played a set of drums. The beat was fast, and between it and the whiskey, her own heart felt like it pounded in her ears.
“So, what do you think?” Tony asked once Andrew had disappeared into the crowd.
“It’s good.”
“I saw Shane bugging you; everything okay with that?”
She nodded. “He was just asking to see my tattoo.”
Tony ground his teeth together, and she smiled. “Easy, Dad Number Two. I’ve got it handled.”
Tony laughed. “Dad Number Two? I like it.”
“I thought you would.” Tony had become like a second father to her, and someone she knew she could trust with her life.
“Hey, Tony!”
“Excuse me, Daughter Number One.” Tony disappeared back into the crowd, leaving Anastasia standing by herself.
“I like you,” a voice whispered in her ear, and Anastasia smelled the alcohol before she even turned to see Shane standing beside her.
This could get awkward.
“I’m flattered, but I don’t want to risk our friendship,” she lied, knowing full and well that aspect had nothing to do with her reasoning.
She didn’t want anyone but the guy she’d left behind.
“Come on, Ana. We could be good together.”
She faced him. “Don’t call me Ana.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Anastasia.”
Her name came out in a slur of words, making her wonder just how much alcohol he’d consumed this evening.
“So, what’s your deal, anyway?” he asked, taking another drink.
“What do you mean?”
“You seeing someone else?”
“No, I just—”
He gripped her biceps and pulled her toward him, crushing his lips against hers.
She shoved hard against his chest, knocking him back a few steps. “What the fuck, Shane!”
Tony grabbed Shane by the back of his shirt and hauled him backward. “You get your sorry ass home, Shane, before I kick it.”
Shane threw his hands in the air, looking back and forth between Tony and Anastasia, his eyes wide and his lips in a snarl. “What, man? It was just a kiss!”
“You’re an ass.” Anastasia slammed her fist into his jaw, the hardness of the bone bruising her knuckles.
His head snapped back, and he straightened, rubbing his jaw. “What the hell was that for?”
“I told you, I’m not interested.”
“Forget worrying about me,” Tony barked. “You’d better get your ass home before she kicks it.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest.
“Whatever,” Shane grumbled, turning to leave.
Anastasia realized the music had stopped and everyone stared at them.
Heat filled her chest, creeping up her neck to her cheeks. “Great, now I’m the center of attention.”
“You aren’t, but he is.” Tony laughed, pointing at Shane. “You okay?”
/>
“Yeah.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and set the rest of her whiskey down. Had her senses not been dulled, she might’ve been able to move in time.
Music started back up, and Tony set his own cup down.
“Let’s get you home.”
“I can walk myself.”
“No need, I’m going that way anyway.”
She smiled, grateful for the company. “Thanks, Tony.”
“Anytime.”
25
Anastasia
Anastasia made her way into her apartment, ecstatic at the chance to beat Dakota home. He was almost always home before her, cooking dinner or playing Call of Duty on the Xbox after picking up take-out. But today, she was going to beat him home and try her hand at actually making something other than blue box macaroni and cheese.
After slipping her key into the lock and turning it, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The lights were all off, so she flipped the switch next to the door. The living room lit up, displaying their bright red hand-me-down couch and mismatched tables.
Things may not match, but she loved the space. It was theirs, and it was home.
Anastasia went to work setting the table and getting the spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. She had just turned off the noodles, when Dakota stepped inside.
“Hey, baby.” He pulled her in and kissed her deeply. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” She smiled against his mouth, still giddy over the fact that they were finally a couple.
“That smells delicious.” He stepped to the stove and leaned over the stockpot to smell the sauce.
“Thanks. I got the recipe from your mom.”
Dakota turned to her and pulled her close to him. “I love you so much, you know that?”
Anastasia’s heart soared, and she pushed up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
Dakota stepped away, his brow furrowed. He looked down at his chest, and Anastasia followed his gaze. The end of a blade protruded from between his ribs.
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