Monique looked down at the sleeping girl. Once she had released the hold on Anastasia’s magic, her body had begun to heal itself fairly quickly. The bruises were fading, and the internal damage Monique had sensed when Dakota had first carried her up the steps was already gone. It was fascinating to her. She had never seen a body heal itself so rapidly before. Well, at least not since hers. She ran her fingers along the jagged scar that ran across her throat from one ear to the next. But even then, Annabelle had given her a salve that had sped up the process.
She looked down and saw a pair of frightened blue eyes staring back at her.
“Who are you?” Anastasia asked, and tried to scoot away from the strange woman sitting on the edge of the bed. “Where am I?”
“I think you have much to learn about both of those questions,” Monique said softly, standing. “Are you hungry?”
When Anastasia just continued to stare, Monique stood and walked to her small kitchen. She knew her cottage wasn’t much, but truth be told, she didn’t want anything glamorous. Not when she didn’t truly wish to still be living anyways. Her life had turned into a chore, one that she had to continue doing until her magic found a replacement host.
“I have some soup if you are interested.”
Anastasia sat up slowly and tested her muscles. What had happened? Memories came flooding back to her as she moved. “What happened to Elizabeth?” she asked, and said a silent prayer she had made it out as well.
“From what I gleamed from your memories, she is fine. It seems a man and some Brutes showed up to save her.”
“Dakota.”
“Yes. I’m Monique.”
“I’m—”
“Anastasia, yes, I know.” Monique smiled at her. “Soup?” she asked again, and Anastasia nodded warily.
She pushed up and tested her legs, surprised at how strong they felt. Sarah. The name assaulted her mind and she felt the tears well in her eyes.
“Don’t think about it. There will be plenty of time to dwell on that later.”
“How did you know?”
“How do you not know what others are thinking? While I cannot hear your direct thoughts, I can certainly make a well-educated guess based on the emotional imprint you are carrying with you.”
“Emotion imprint?”
“You can gleam the way someone is feeling. You, for instance, are carrying a heavy amount of guilt and regret on your shoulders.”
Anastasia nodded and took her seat at the small table.
“I’m curious as to why you do not wish to return home,” Monique said softly as they ate.
Anastasia swallowed hard. How can she tell?
“I did something stupid and because of it my best friend’s mom nearly lost her life.” Anastasia took another bite of the hearty soup and kept her eyes averted, even when she could feel Monique staring at her.
“You mean that boy? Dakota?”
Anastasia’s eyes shot up so she could see Monique. “How do you—”
“Who do you think brought you here?”
“Oh.” Of course he had.
“If it’s any consolation, he doesn’t blame you.” She placed the bowls on the table and took a seat across from Anastasia.
“He told me he does.”
“I imagine those words were spoken out of fear for his mother. The man who brought you here does not blame you at all. If anything, he blames himself.”
“How do you know that?”
Monique smirked at her. “You doubt my abilities?”
“No, of course not,” Anastasia backtracked.
“Even if I didn’t possess the power I do, you could have seen it written all over his face.” She took a bite and Anastasia did the same. The hot soup hit her tongue, and she savored it as she ate. She inhaled the first bowl, and Monique stood to silently get her seconds. She was eating like she hadn’t in days, and she supposed that probably was true. “How long have I been here?”
“About a day in this world. Nearing on two in yours.”
“Two days? I have to get back.” She stood. She needed to make sure everyone was okay.
“Easy, Anastasia,” Monique warned when Anastasia felt the room move.
She cautiously took her seat again. “What’s wrong with me?” Anastasia asked, and cradled her head in her hands while she tried desperately to make the room stop moving.
“Your magic had been blocked, and it rushed back into your system. You will be a bit dizzy for a while. Either way, if you go back now you will die. You have to learn to control your magic.”
“I’ve done a pretty good job.”
“Anastasia, you are incredibly powerful.”
“Why do people keep saying that to me? Why can’t I get a normal compliment like ‘Hey, Anastasia, your hair looks nice today.’” Anastasia scoffed, irritated.
“One day you will get to worry about such insignificant things, Anastasia. You simply need to learn to master the tools you have in order to succeed.”
Anastasia nodded. She knew Monique was right. Gregory had been killed before he’d had a chance to work with her in detail.
“Do you like the soup?” Monique asked. “I apologize, I am not great with routine conversation.”
Anastasia took another bite. “It’s delicious, thank you. Why are you out here alone?” she wondered.
Monique stopped, spoon in midair. “I wasn’t always this way,” she said softly and put her spoon back into her bowl. Her eyes filled with sadness, and Anastasia stayed quiet to see if Monique would continue.
When she didn’t, Anastasia asked, “What happened?”
Monique let out a deep breath and Anastasia saw the shimmering of tears in her eyes. “I fell in love, and it nearly killed me.”
“Your scar?” Anastasia asked, and touched her own throat lightly.
Monique nodded. “He was handsome, smart, vibrant—the list could go on and on.” Monique smiled sadly. “But where he had many good qualities, he had one that was beyond evil. I tried to change him, I knew the good he could have been capable of, but he could not be swayed. When he learned of who I was meant to be, he snapped. He couldn’t come to terms that I might be more powerful than he was. Even though I never wanted it.” Monique pushed her bowl away and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t believe I have told you much about who I truly am.”
Anastasia shook her head softly.
“I am the sorceress.”
“I am one as well,” Anastasia said knowingly, and Monique laughed. It was the first happy sound Anastasia had heard from the woman, and it sounded like a melody.
“Oh no, child, I am the Sorceress. There is only ever one at a time. We possess more magic than any one person in all the worlds. Originally, the Sorceress led her people. They worshipped her as they would have a queen and she helped them when they were injured or sick. But years passed and they became jealous, although some would say afraid, I suppose. They killed her, and while they didn’t realize another would be born, anyone else who possessed magic was given a black mark and either killed or sent away.”
“So you’re the last one?”
“There will always be only one child. But only after the life of the current one is extinguished.”
“So this man you are talking about, he realized you were the Sorceress?”
She nodded carefully. “I was still green in my magic when we met. It wasn’t long after that when my power began to surpass his, though.”
“Did he…?” Anastasia asked, and pointed to the scar.
“He did. He told me that he wished to run away together, and when I arrived, he slit my throat.” The tears that had only shimmered in her eyes before began to fall at the memory. “I remember him staring into my eyes while I fought for my life. He told me that he loved me and I didn’t deserve to die, but that he couldn’t have anyone in his way.”
“That’s awful,” Anastasia whispered as her own tears fell. To have loved with your heart and believed you were loved in return only to have them steal your life. She couldn’t even imagine how Monique must have felt. “How did you—”
“Survive?”
Anastasia nodded.
“Your father found me, and he saved my life. He and his new wife managed to stop the bleeding while my body healed itself.”
“My father?”
“Yes. He was a good man, Anastasia, and I see a lot of him in you.” She smiled. “He helped me hide here so that Vincent couldn’t ever find me again.”
Anastasia’s blood ran cold. “Vincent is the one who tried to kill you?”
Monique nodded and watched curiously as anger flashed across Anastasia’s features.
“I will kill him,” Anastasia said simply as she felt the rage building in her.
“I think the strangest of it all is that a part of me still loves him.”
“He has to die. It’s the only way.”
“I know,” she said sadly. “I wish to begin working with you as soon as possible. Your father trained you some, I know, but your magic is still quite green.”
Anastasia sighed. “I have no more magic.”
“Anastasia, your magic is in your blood; it is not something that can be removed. Vincent was able to block it temporarily, but I removed that block when I healed you.”
“He only blocked it?”
“Yes. You have much to learn.” Monique took one last bite of her soup and then placed her bowl on the counter.
“I feel so foolish.”
“Go easy on yourself, Anastasia. You haven’t had nearly the time to hone your power as Vincent has, and you are already more powerful than he could ever hope to be. It is why he sees you as so much of a threat.”
“He has beaten me every step of the way.”
“Yes he has. Because you refuse to access all of your power. In order to defeat Vincent, you are going to have to tap into every ounce of the magic you possess. You cannot do that if you fear it.”
“The only time I allowed myself to feel all of it, I went dark. I almost didn’t come back. What if the next time I don’t come back at all?”
“When the darkness threatens to drag you down, it’s up to you to find the light within. You can do it, you simply have to believe in yourself.”
“Easier said than done.”
“It is. But it is doable. Anastasia, you cannot be afraid of what’s inside of you.”
“My father—”
“Your father didn’t contain even an ounce of what you have.” At Anastasia’s irritation, Monique put her hands up. “I don’t mean any disrespect. I loved your father. He was a good man. It’s just fact, Anastasia. Vincent is as powerful as he is because he allowed himself to control his magic.”
“Because he went dark.”
Monique stared at her for a moment. “Is that what you think? That Vincent is powerful because he is dark?”
“Yes. How else do you explain what he’s doing?”
“Oh, Anastasia, you misunderstand. You should not fear Vincent because he is a sorcerer who has chosen dark magic. The reason he should frighten you is because he is a man who is capable of so much evil, and yet has the ability to hide in plain sight.”
Anastasia thought of Mitch and how many people had honestly believed he was a loving husband and father.
“Then what does that say about me?” Anastasia asked. “I have killed three humans now. Ophelia, Mitch, and now Sarah. Doesn’t that make me as evil as he is?”
“Do you honestly believe that?” Monique asked, and Anastasia thought for a moment before shaking her head. “I didn’t think so. Mitch was your abusive stepfather, Ophelia killed your real father, and Sarah would have killed Dakota’s mother.”
“How do you—”
“I told you, I have gifts. The point is that you have to let go of the past. You will never be able to fulfill your destiny if it continues to plague you. Now, enough talking. Show me some magic.” Monique stood and walked to her living room. With a flick of her wrist, her furniture slid against the walls and she took a seat in the center of a rug. She gestured for Anastasia to follow, so she did.
Once they were seated across from each other, Monique held out her hands. “I want you to access all of it.”
“What? In here?” she asked, panicked, remembering that the last time it happened, she had lost all control.
“I will absorb it if it gets out of hand.”
“You can do that?” Anastasia asked, amazed. Monique simply eyed her, slightly annoyed that she continued questioning her.
“Now,” Monique instructed, and Anastasia closed her eyes.
She felt the magic humming in her blood again and coaxed it forward. When she felt the air thicken, she backed off slightly.
“You are holding back on me, Anastasia. Let me feel all of it!” she yelled.
At her order, Anastasia let her magic tear loose. More power then she had even felt the night she killed Mitch poured into her and the air around her. She opened her eyes to see Monique staring proudly at her.
Anastasia’s eyes were glowing fiercely, and her skin was illuminated. Monique doubted very much anyone knew the extent of her power. “Fantastic, Anastasia! Now, show me fire.”
Anastasia turned her palm up and a green flame roared to life in her palm.
“How do you feel?” Monique asked hesitantly.
“I feel fine.” Anastasia couldn’t believe that she had accessed every bit of her magic, and it didn’t feel as if she had lost any part of herself.
“You have to remember to use your magic sparingly unless you need all of it. Your body cannot channel it for long, and it will drain you.”
Anastasia nodded and released her power. She had already begun to feel the exhaustion.
“Unbelievable,” Monique muttered. “Do you have any idea how powerful you are?” she asked.
“I’m beginning to.” Anastasia smiled.