Hi,

First of all, thanks for all your comments guys! This last week was really crazy and I couldn't respond to most of your comments, but I did read them :-) 

Anyway, we're moving, no, racing on! I hope you like the chapter :-)

Lara

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Chapter 55

Someone had been in my mind. Might still be there right with me, this very moment. The thought made me want to throw up, tear myself out of that constricting shell of my body. Who could have-

I stilled. A small change in the atmosphere. A whiff of motion.

Alexander was back, appearing in front of me like an apparition materializing out of dust and air. His eyes were on me. Again I was hit by that peculiar sensation of intimacy, as if his eyes were like a set of cool hands pressing into tender skin.

He lifted his right hand, palm up. He'd keep his word and would really hand over one of the artifacts. Up until now I wasn't sure if he really would. Blue light caught in the golden ring in his palm, reflected like a halo on the ceiling. One of the magical artifacts he stole from me.

"There you are, Anna."

The sound of my name on his lips tore through me like a shower of hot-cold lightning.

I took the ring, wordlessly. The odd sensation settled the moment the gold made contact with my skin – powerful magical residue that worked its way up my fingertips like a small electric shock. I could only imagine what would happen if I really attempted to use the ring.

Did Alexander know that the artifact contained this sort of magic? Had he felt it too? Would he really just hand it over if he as much as suspected?

I shook myself mentally. There were things I had to do. I had to get out now. Find out what ha-

He grabbed my wrist the moment I was about to turn and walk away.

"What are you going to do now?"

He was breathing. His fingers were wrapped around my wrist, messing with my senses. Once again I was caught up in that sensation of standing in a magnetic field someone had turned upside down. The power of the grave called to me in ways it never had. His presence was enough to confuse, entice and mesmerize, not because he was a vampire, but because he was Alexander.

I was too close. I licked my lips, thinking.

"Giving you information about my future plans wasn't part of our deal," I finally said, staring at the black curtain.

He laughed and for the fracture of a second his hand tightened on my wrist before he let it slip through his fingers. An odd blend of dismissal and caress that sent me off balance.

"You do always have to do things on your own, don't you Anna?" He said softly.

I closed my eyes and stormed through the curtain of oil, leaving the Blue Room and Alexander behind. I knew very well I could never outrun him and the truths I discovered about myself.

* * *

ANDY

"I said, I need to talk to him. Now."

George smiled. "And I need to take a sip badly. Ain't happening either, boy. Or are you volunteering?"

George and whoever else was serving Alexander in this shithole started calling me "boy" ever since Victor Crawford did. Not that I cared. Much.

Fuck this.

"Fine. Then get me Zack," I said.

Zack was the second in command. If I couldn't get to Alexander, he would. He'd understand. Apparently Alexander's wonder boy spoke Italian well enough to understand most of what was written in Elena Larosa's diary. Apart from the magical stuff. That's what they needed me for. At least that's what Alexander told me. Apparently George either didn't know or care about what I was supposed to find out. I stared at Alexander's enforcer, thinking.

Fuck, I had to talk to Alexander. Why didn't I see this coming?

"Mr. Varner."

I straightened, arms loose at my sides. Alexander had appeared beside George, watching me with still, shark-like eyes. Something told me the head vampire wasn't in a good mood.

"You said you'd give me the hiding places Anna used in the past few weeks in exchange for deciphering the diary," I said.

The head vampire smiled, watching me closely. "I did."

I exhaled. I was not leaving without the information. "The photocopied pages ­ everything was from the diary of Elena Larosa?"

My fingers tightened around the piece of paper – one of the pages the head vampire's lackeys had handed to me. Photocopied pages that, according to Alexander's minions, belonged to Anna's ancestor.

Shit.

The vampire stilled. "Unequivocally. Why?"

I pressed my eyes shut. "Because the parts you gave me are compilations of spells and a certain way of using dark magic. From what I could gather, Elena Larosa wasn't killed by vampires or other witches." I opened my eyes. "She deliberately killed herself by using Spirit."

Alexander was motionless, his face the blank mask of the ultimate undead predator. The atmosphere around us changed. I could feel the approaching aura before I saw the vampire. Zack appeared behind me, face void of its usual mirth and boy next door attitude.

"Medici's gone," he said.

Alexander didn't move. "What about Anna?"

"We believe she was the one that helped him get out," Zack said.

"Her whereabouts?" Alexander's voice was soft, slithering around me like a predator stalking its target with acoustic signals meant to kill.

"We couldn't locate her," Zack said.

And then the most shocking event of the evening. The head vampire cursed.

* * *

ANNA

One step. Then one more. If I kept on walking, the world might keep on turning – enough for me to keep on breathing and survive. I'd left Medici on Torrens Tower. We barely made it there before he died. The travel via portal took a lot out of him. Too much to keep on breathing.

Part of me suspected he knew that before we made our bargain. That he had been looking for a form of suicide through the side effects of a portal – something he knew all too well.

His parting words still stuck with me. "Don't let the magic control you. You've got to control it. Forget all that you know about handling elementary magic and let your mind do the ruling. Emotions will get you killed."

I faltered in my steps and put my hand over my heart, sucking in air. There was no way I could shut down the pain I was feeling right now. It was as if someone had closed a fist around my heart, squeezing. Emotions I'd tried to suppress had come back with a suffocating viciousness that left me reeling.

I saw Alexander looking at the real me. He did see me. And he hadn't walked away. The truth had struck me with the force of a violent thunderstorm. I knew what I felt.

By the great three witches. I know.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Part of me wanted to run and get as far away from Alexander as I could, and I knew that I should. Part of me wanted to go back and just touch his face, look at him, see what else there was in those blue eyes. Be with him. Get back to that man he showed me, hidden deep in his core. Because that was who Alexander really was.

All I'd gotten from him in the past were stolen glances, bits and pieces of who he really was. I wanted more. I wanted the real him.

I breathed in and out, tried to slow my rapid breathing. I couldn't find my way back into that quiet place inside of me, that eye of the storm I'd been in since I turned rogue. It was as if it was gone.

As if there was not enough room for it with all these emotions inside. Instead there was something else, crackling and burning underneath my skin. Fear gnawed at me, tried to work its way through bones and flesh, like a monster that had just woken from a nightmare-ridden dream – hungry and feral.

Something told me this monster was real. I had to know what happened before I turned rogue.

I ran my hand through my hair, exhaling, and watched my surroundings. The night was quiet. Too quiet. I was using an invisibility spell, approaching Victor's mansion quietly.

This was where it began, the place where I must have turned rogue. The street was poorly lit, bathed in shadows. I went into second sight, methodically searching my surroundings. Dark shadows and strong angles that looked threatening in the night, but by all appearances I was alone.

Just a few more steps and I would reach that spot, that dark stain of blood on asphalt – the first thing I remembered and saw after I turned rogue that night.

I approached the place quietly. Stopped still. Circled it with the slowness of a patient, fearful hunter.

The blood I'd seen on the asphalt had been washed away, either by rain, or something else, but I could see its faint outlines – like a second layer of vision someone had forced over my eyes.

I knelt down and stared at the spot. If whatever happened here carried enough residue, there was a way to find out more. Slowly, tentatively, I stretched my hand out, pressing my palm to the blood-stained asphalt.

The stone felt cold to the touch, but it was very much alive.

Found you. Found you. Found you.

The words exploded in my head. Time slowed down, vision snuffed out like a candle.

That night, I wasn't alone. That blood, it was –

No.

I closed my eyes, feeling the ashen, bitter taste in my mouth. The white noise of motion through air, the soft approach of death on icy wings. All of a sudden I didn't want to remember.

But it was too late. Because I did.