Phoenix

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Phoenix Page 17

by Jessica Wayne


  “It’s official, I’m losing my mind,” he muttered as he pulled his shoes on. He had half a mind to go and wake his mother up, just to verify he hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

  But if he did that, and Ana wasn’t real, his mother would never leave him alone. On the other hand, if Ana were, in fact, standing in his living room, well, his mother would still never leave him alone.

  No, he’d handle this situation on his own.

  When he stepped back into the living room, he was actually surprised to see her still standing there. He had honestly believed she would be gone when he came out, and that everything he’d witnessed over the last few hours had been nothing but a dream.

  Ana stood with her back to him, facing the television in the corner.

  Her dark brown hair was much longer than it had been years ago, hanging in a long, thick braid that reached the top curve of her ass. Her skintight pants left little to the imagination, displaying muscular thighs and calves that dipped into tall black boots. Boots that made her legs look as if they were a mile high—and they had never needed help in that department.

  She had a sword sheathed across her back, and her waistband held more knives than he’d originally counted. He should have had her remove them, but he had been too distracted by her reappearance in his life. She had a small satchel tied to her belt, and her stance was that of a warrior.

  Where had she been all these years, and why was she back now, of all times?

  “Where have you been?” he asked, his voice meek. He cleared his throat. “It’s been…” he shook his head. “Where have you been all this time?”

  She turned slowly to face him, and when she looked into his eyes, a piece of his heart slipped back into place.

  “That’s a long story,” Anastasia answered tightly. Her eyes narrowed on his face, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I’ve got time.” He moved into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. “Want some?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “So?” he asked again as he poured the hot liquid into the mugs. “Start talking.”

  His voice was rough; he couldn’t help it. His mind was completely fried.

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t know that you will believe me if I tell you.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” He set a cup in front of her and took a drink out of his own. “I literally just saw a blue light appear in the alley by my house, then giant beasts filed out of it, followed by a man who apparently knew my name.”

  “Dakota, I—”

  He held his hand up. “I would also like to add that my best friend, who went missing five years ago without a trace, just so happened to come stumbling out of that same blue light and crashed directly into me right before it disappeared. I think you would be surprised at how much I might believe, Ana.”

  Her mouth tightened. Was she considering whether or not to tell him the truth?

  His heart pounded in his chest. His arms ached to pull her to him… if only to confirm that she was really there.

  She finally nodded. “Fine. For the last five years, I have been in a place called Terrenia, which is another dimension that runs parallel to this one. There, I learned that I was kidnapped as a baby from my biological parents, one of which is a sorcerer, by the way, then sent here to live with Mitch because I was prophesized to be the one who would bring down the darkness that is being spread by my evil uncle.”

  What in the actual fuck? He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. There was a knock at the door, and he checked the time. “Shit.” He’d completely forgotten about the fact that he was supposed to drive his mom to work this morning.

  He glanced at Ana. “Quiet, and stay over there where she can’t see you.”

  He ignored the way her mouth tightened in defiance, and once she was out of sight, he pulled open the door just enough to look outside.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  Dressed in navy blue scrubs, her hair was up in a tight bun, and she’d applied a small amount of makeup for the day.

  “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

  “I can’t this morning, Mom, I’m not feeling well.” He regretted the words the moment they left his lips. If he was looking for any reason for her to force her way into his apartment, feigning sickness was at the top of the list. “I mean, I’m tired.”

  “Dakota George Parker. You open this door all the way this instant.” She shoved at the door, and he gently moved aside, knowing it would do no good to fight with her.

  She looked into the kitchen and gasped, smiling. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey, you could have just said you had company. I can drive mys—” The words died on her lips as her eyes widened further and her jaw dropped. “It can’t be,” she whispered, taking a few steps toward Ana. She turned to look back at Dakota, and he nodded.

  “Anastasia?” she whispered.

  “Hi, Mrs. Parker.”

  His mom pulled Ana in for a hug, and Ana wrapped her arms around her. When she pulled away, they both had unshed tears in their eyes. “Oh, honey, are you all right? Where have you been? Did Mitch hurt you?”

  “Mom.” Dakota’s voice was gentle, and he handed her his cell phone. “Call in sick today, please. I know you never do, but I’m begging you to make an exception for today. And then stay in my apartment, don’t go to yours,” he added, remembering what he had just seen coming out of the blue light in the alleyway.

  “Okay,” Elizabeth agreed halfheartedly. She backed away without taking her eyes off Ana as if she were afraid she would disappear.

  “We are going to be in here.” He gestured to his bedroom. “We have a few things to talk about. Don’t leave, Mom,” he reminded her.

  “I won’t.” She dialed up the hospital.

  Anastasia followed Dakota into his bedroom, and he shut the door gently behind her. She turned around in a circle, looking at all of the photos neatly set on his dresser. She stopped in front of the photograph taken the day he graduated from the academy.

  “You became a cop,” she whispered, as if finally accepting what he’d already told her.

  “Yes,” he replied curtly.

  She turned to him, and he swallowed hard. Damn, she was beautiful.

  “Why?”

  “What happened to you?” he asked, changing the subject.

  She shook her head. “It’s not important.”

  “The hell it isn’t. Whatever—or whoever—took you away from me, Ana… that’s pretty fucking important to me.”

  She winced a little, and he wished he could take back the tone in his voice. But having her here in his space and not being able to touch her, was destroying him.

  She closed her beautiful blue eyes, and when she opened them again, they were full of tears. He had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her.

  “Mitch showed up at our apartment that morning. Two men were with him and I was in such a good mood, I opened the door without even looking to see who it was.”

  “I fucking knew it was him,” Dakota growled, unable to help himself. And the fucker had gotten away with it.

  “They knocked me out somehow and took me back to Mitch and Monica’s.”

  Why was she calling them by their first names? Her gaze was fixated on something outside, and she looked to be a million miles away.

  “When I woke up, he told me he was going to kill me.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and Dakota ached to wipe it away.

  “I fought back. With magic, of all things.” She laughed softly, no amusement in the sound. “He punished me.” She turned around and lifted up a small part of her shirt, revealing about two inches of scarred and tattooed skin.

  He reached out and ran his fingers along the jagged lines, and his heart pounded in his ears as a wave of red-hot rage rushed his system. “He fucking beat you,” Dakota growled, his voice deep and full of pain.

  He’d left her there alone, and Mitch fucking beat he
r.

  She pulled her shirt down and turned to face him. Unable to resist touching her any longer, he reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek.

  “Yes. He did. But before he could kill me, another man appeared in the living room. He threw Mitch off of me, then offered me sanctuary. A place where I would be safe and Mitch would never get his hands on me again. He told me that they needed me.” She took a deep breath. “I think that was the first time anyone ever said that to me.”

  Her words felt like a dagger in his heart. How the hell could she say that? He’d always needed her.

  “Mitch blasted in a few moments later, and the man threw him back again. They argued, but honestly, I can’t even remember what it was about now. The man opened a blue light—a portal—and took me through. I’ve been there ever since.”

  “I needed you,” he said softly, barely leashing the anger he felt.

  “Dakota, I didn’t mean—”

  “You left willingly, then.” Anger tightened a painful fist around his heart. “You weren’t kidnapped, and you were obviously not murdered. You left of your own free will, and you couldn’t have been so kind as to leave me a fucking note? Something that said ‘hey, Dakota, I’m not dead, see ya around’? Something that would have let me know you were okay!”

  “Dakota, I didn’t have time. Mitch was going to kill me!”

  “My father died for you.”

  She gasped. “What?” Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, but he paid them little notice. The fact that she had left him willingly, without even bothering to put his mind at ease, was the worst type of betrayal.

  “He cared enough to keep digging even when everyone else had given up on finding you. Someone—presumably Mitch—decided he was a liability and murdered him. He bled to death in a fucking alley because of you!”

  She flinched. “Dakota, I’m so sorry. I—”

  “Save it, Anastasia.” He grabbed his jacket from the bed and marched past her. “Don’t even think about leaving, or so help me God, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth, even into whatever world it is you tried to escape to.”

  He slammed the door behind him.

  His mom stood by the front door, and she opened her mouth to say something.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” he growled as he pushed past her.

  41

  Anastasia

  Anastasia sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She had always tried to spare Dakota and his family from any harm at the hands of Mitch Carter, and… when she’d left with Gregory that night, her only reason had been Dakota’s safety.

  Instead, she had gotten George killed and caused Dakota and Elizabeth a lifetime of pain.

  She’d been a fool.

  At least she now knew what created the Fighter he’d become. He was so different than before, no doubt because he’d been hardened by five years of pain, devastating loss, and fighting battles for others.

  Where was the Dakota who used to climb through her window with plates of food? The best friend who’d sat on the couch binge-watching whatever TV show was popular at the time? Or the roommate who held her while she slept after she had a nightmare?

  Anastasia rose to her feet. Regardless of what he’d said, she needed to get as far away from Dakota and his mother as possible.

  People around her had a tendency to die.

  She stepped from the bedroom, and Elizabeth looked up at her. “Your coffee got cold; would you like some more?”

  “No, thank you.” Anastasia glanced toward the door.

  “He will, you know.”

  Anastasia looked at the woman, eyebrows raised in question.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Hunt you down. That boy has been searching for you for five years. Now that he knows you are alive and in the same city, he won’t ever stop. Don’t force him to start again.” Elizabeth came around to sit at the small table in the kitchen, motioning to the chair beside her.

  Anastasia gave in and sat down.

  “So, another dimension, huh?” she asked nonchalantly, sipping her coffee like other dimensions were normal, everyday discussion.

  Had she not been bordering on exhaustion, Anastasia’s chin might have hit the floor.

  “How much did you hear?”

  “All of it. I'm a mother, honey, an excellent eavesdropper by trade.”

  Anastasia smiled.

  “If you’re worried I’m going to blame you about George, you’re wrong.” She lightly touched Anastasia’s hand. “What happened to him wasn’t your fault. Just as what happened to you that night wasn’t your fault. Mitch is an evil man, and evil men will do anything they choose, regardless of the consequences and how their actions affect other people.”

  “How can you not blame me? If I had left a note—”

  “Then George would have still gone looking for you, and things would have ended up exactly the way they are now. Anastasia, George and Dakota were my world. It got a little smaller after George passed, but my husband was a determined man, and he would have continued looking for you until he found you. He blamed himself for what happened, and he made it his mission to bring you home, for Dakota.”

  Anastasia stared down at the coffee mug as the steam swirled off the top. “Dakota hates me.”

  “Oh, honey.” Elizabeth reached over and patted her hand again gently. “That boy couldn’t hate you if he tried. He’s just a little mixed up right now. Give him some time; he will come around.”

  “I'm pretty sure I hate myself.”

  “Anastasia. You can’t focus on things that are in the past; they are already out of your control.” She straightened and took a sip of her coffee. “Now, why don’t you tell me a little bit about this place you’ve been living? Terrenia, right?”

  “You are a wonderful eavesdropper.” Anastasia laughed.

  “One of the best, I’m sure.”

  Anastasia had forgotten how easy it was to talk with Elizabeth.

  When she’d been a teenager, Anastasia would sneak over to their house just to sit with Elizabeth. They would chat about little things that Anastasia imagined all normal mothers and daughters spoke about, and Elizabeth had helped her through more than a few tough times.

  So now, over a cup of coffee, Anastasia told her of Gregory and Annabelle, and about how kind they had been to her. She told her of how beautiful Terrenia was and how the animals were a bit different there than they were here. She described her years of training and the many battles she’d been a part of.

  When she’d finished, Elizabeth stared at her, jaw slack.

  “You have magic, too!” she exclaimed once she’d had a minute to process.

  “I do,” Anastasia admitted hesitantly.

  “I have to stand.” Elizabeth began pacing the small apartment. “This is so exciting. And scary, of course, and sad as well,” she added, turning toward Anastasia. “I am just so overwhelmed that you are back and standing before me all warrior princess like.”

  Anastasia laughed, the first real laugh to come out of her since long before Gregory had been killed. “Warrior princess?” she said through her laughter, and Elizabeth started giggling.

  They laughed together and, eventually, Anastasia took a seat on the couch. She hadn’t realized how tired she was; a week without more than an hour or two of sleep a night would do that to a person. Even a warrior princess.

  “Why don’t you rest for a bit, dear? We will talk again in a little while.” Elizabeth pulled the curtains tight to block out the light steadily growing outside and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch to hand to her.

  Anastasia accepted it gratefully and lay back, closing her eyes.

  42

  Dakota

  Another dimension? Was she serious? Dakota wished it were early enough to drink. He damn well deserved one after the night and morning he’d had.

  Weird ass beasts pouring through a blue light into his world.

  His best friend practically returning from the grave.

&nb
sp; Discovering she’d left willingly.

  Of everything he’d learned this morning, that was the hardest to come to terms with. He’d never believed she’d actually run away, but to learn that she had, that the police had been right, and on some level, Mitch had been telling the truth, was enough to crumble Dakota’s neatly organized world.

  All these years he’d held onto his anger for not only Mitch, but also the cops who had done nothing.

  He spent so many nights lying in bed, kicking himself for not following his gut and staying home that day.

  How many nights had he hated himself for leaving her alone?

  ‘My father died for you,’ he’d told her.

  “Fuck,” Dakota murmured, rubbing his palms over his eyes. What kind of an asshole said shit like that to people? She’d told him of the horrors she suffered that night, and he’d blamed her for a death that wasn’t hers to carry.

  He owed her one hell of an apology. A block from his apartment, his phone rang.

  “Carter,” he answered gruffly.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Lance Austin, his lieutenant, said from the other line.

  Dakota pinched the bridge of his nose. “What kind of problem?”

  “You need to come in. This isn’t something we can talk about over the phone.”

  “On my way.” Dakota ran through the early morning air until he reached the bar a few blocks down where he’d left his car last night.

  His mind raced. Was it possible those beasts had been spotted? Had there been an attack?

  There were a million possibilities as to why Austin had called him in, and after he figured out why it was, he was dead set on figuring out just what was next with Ana.

  43

  Anastasia

  Anastasia woke and stretched. She hadn’t slept that deeply in ages. Her sleep addled brain panicked when she didn’t recognize where she was. She shot up off the couch, a blade already in her hand.

  “Easy, honey,” Elizabeth stood near the door, and Anastasia relaxed as memories from the early morning came back to her.

 

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