Hi,

I loved reading all your comments on last week's update! Well, it looks like Anna's not the only one that could use a little help. Guess who's in trouble in this one? ;-)

I hope you like the chapter, and thank you all for reading! :-)

Lara

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Chapter 63

The vamps were moving in a dance that was too quick to follow with human eyes. The auratic climate around me was a toxic cataclysm that was finally opening to its full potential. Alexander was facing the red-haired Asian vampire Anna and I had followed in the Red Zone, his face void of motion. Somewhere behind Fabrice was facing Alexander's second in command, Zack.

Then there was him. I knew who he was the moment I saw the auratic outlines – the vast void that seemed to swallow up whatever meandered its way.

Vladislav was standing at the sidelines, watching the fight between the opposing vamps stoically. Right beside him Anna – motionless, staring straight in front of her with vacant eyes.

If for some reason I cannot do it myself, keep her alive. No matter how.

That's what Alexander said before he and his vamps went to Victor's Mansion. Coming out of his mouth it had sounded like an order. It had slightly unsettled me, but I was not going to argue. For once I was going to do exactly what he said. I had to get Anna away from Vladislav. Fast.

That left only one option. I would have to go for a surprise attack and that-

I froze. The sensation pricked my skin like a palpable touch of pins and needles. Someone was looking my way. It was the witch beside Vladislav. And no, she wasn't looking, she was openly staring at me. Piqued interest shimmered in her frosty, blue eyes. It was the only thing coming close to a human emotion I could detect.

She seemed frigid to the point of emotional deadness. Her black dress hid part of lose black plants that allowed freedom of movement. Her hair was done up in braids. Her eyes seemed to see and notice everything. She was dressed like a warrior and positively looked like one.

Who the fuck was this woman?

I accessed the world of auratic gray and stilled. In the wake of Vladislav's aura I'd simply dismissed hers. A grave mistake. Whoever this witch was, she was dangerous as fuck.

* * *

ANNA

Chunks of soil hit my face, it was dark and I couldn't breathe. Someone had cut off whatever oxygen feed I had. Or tried to.

No matter if this was a dream, a figment of my imagination or real, I was still an air witch, no matter where and no matter which shade of reality this was. I called air to me, cocooned myself in webs of oxygen and my element, and finally I could breathe again.

I knew I was still going down. At some point the fingers that had been wrapped so tightly around my neck seemed to have vanished, and still I was descending, rushing down through soil and darkness – whereto I didn't know. It felt as if an invisible force was pulling me forward, a vicious rope tearing me down with my heart as its anchor point.

Perhaps I was hallucinating. Maybe I was dying.

I didn't care. If this was a battle for my mind, I was going to come out as the winner, or not come out at all. I pushed through, held on to my element and breathed through it. Facing absolute darkness.

The travel was violent, brushing and bruising my mental strength in more than one way. I pushed forward, using my magic and went down down down. Time seemed to melt and change, like the halting, stagnant transition of water on the threshold to freezing.

It was a long way down.

Suddenly darkness parted, as if someone had put a knife through an opaque, black veil. Earth and soil moved, disintegrated and spit me out.

I fell to the floor, crashing on my hands and knees. For a moment I was caught up in a fit of coughing, too disoriented by the fall. I shook myself and looked up, scanning the scene. Darkness and shadows reigned in this room, but I could detect stone walls and paintings that­

I gasped. I was in Vladislav's throne room. The exact same room I had been in when accessing Vladislav's mind.

I pushed myself up, righting myself.

I did it.

Voices exploded in my head, amplified by the hollowness of the throne room.

Seal the door, Fabian! Blaze, no! Your fault. They died because of you.

They were all voices of my past, chunks someone used to throw at me. Then the images started. Images of Maria lying in that street, motionless. Dead. Blaze, a bloody lump. My parents, my mothers' scream before she died.

I crashed back to my knees and shook my head, clamped my hands over my ears.

Your fault. They died because of you.

The voices kept coming. The images kept coming.

Details I hadn't focused on when I regained the memories of the night my parents died, things I tried to forget after I found Maria dead in the street, the exact moment Vladislav killed Blaze. Tears pooled in my eyes, wetting my cheeks. I wanted the voices and the memories gone.

I fisted my hand, slamming it into the stone floor.

"Go away," I screamed.

Nothing happened. The voices kept coming, a seemingly endless song someone had put on replay. The images flashed in front of my eyes like a rerun of an unwanted horror-movie.

Again, I slammed my fist into the floor.

The words came out as a choked whisper. "Yes, they died and I couldn't save them. But that doesn't matter now."

I couldn't change the past, but I had control over what happened in the here and now. I wouldn't let Alexander die. Not him.

Fuck the voices, fuck whatever happened before!

Not him.

I got on my feet and looked up slowly, hands fisted at my sides. Then I started walking towards the throne Vladislav had sat in last I'd been in there.

The shadows seemed alive, like creatures that didn't want me to see past them to what was in front of me. I moved faster, walking up to where I knew the throne was located blindly. Until I saw the outlines of the throne. And him. Vladislav was sitting on it, face motionless, eyes unforgiving.

* * *

ANDY

Fuck. Yeah, just that.

Whoever the witch was, she was coming my way. She'd mumbled something to Vladislav, then started walking – in my direction. She approached me without taking her eyes away from me, her steps slow and measured, as if she had all the time in the world, even in the wake of the fighting around us.

I watched her, running through all the options I still had available, which weren't that many or that great. A surprise attack was no longer on the table. Dammit, when it came down to it, there was only one option left. And I didn't like it.

I'd taken up a fighting stance without consciously thinking about it, as if the body had come to the same conclusion as the mind, only faster. Feet planted – staggered and placed slightly wider than the hips – allowing me perfect control and balance.

Adrenaline exploded in my system, spilled like a psychedelic drug. Whatever I saw, felt, touched, I knew I was alive as long as I didn't lose this feeling. Faster, wider, higher, stronger. I'd always lived according to these mantras. I wasn't going to stop now. Not even if this witch was more powerful than anyone I'd ever faced before.

She came to a halt a few feet in front of me. Watching. Assessing. I was pretty sure it was the exact distance we always maintained in magical duel class. If it was intentional, she was aware of the rules and followed them by the book. Or she might just want me thinking she was going to.

The look in her frosty blue eyes said something else. It said she was a warrior that didn't fight because of the fight, but because she was looking for murder.

"Who are you?" Her voice matched the mien, some sort of dubious iciness that hinted at cruelty.

How the fuck was I going to get past that witch? I'd lost that particular momentum that would have come with a surprise attack. What else did I have? And who was I really up against?

I shifted my position, testing the waters. Something changed in the witch's face. Yes. She was anticipating a fight.

I shrugged. "No one. Who are you?"

The banal question seemed to throw her off kilter for a second. This was my moment. My best shot at getting past her. Heat pooled in my fingertips, making that familiar fast-forward trip through my veins. The moment swayed and changed in an undeniable, unalterable chain reaction.

A spark caught up in the air, time flipped and my magic was there. I pulled and pulled, using all I had for this one attack. The massive wall of magic hit me like a knock-out punch coming sideways. I staggered, but stayed on my feet, guiding the fire. The flames manifested around her, a solid veil of fire that would stop her – for a while.

I rushed past her, eyes on the spot Anna occupied. The sound of heavy fighting and air displacement was distracting, as if someone had pulled a numbing hood over my ears. I shook my head, focusing on Anna. I had to get her. Somehow. I would-

"Where do you think you're going?"

The voice travelled past the numbing noise concert with ease. I stopped and turned in time to evade. A veil of fire, just like mine, only more powerful, was closing in on me. The witch was coming after me, slowly, her lips drawn back in what might have ranked as a sneer on anybody else's face. On hers it carried an unmistakable message: she'd smelled it and now was ready to draw blood.

Fuck.