Hi,

It's all or nothing in this one. Anna's fighting for her life. Question: what would you do if you were in her shoes? Do whatever it takes? Is there no price too high for survival?

Let me know if you liked it!

Lara

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Chapter 49

Forcing a change of course in the middle of portalling can backfire. I knew that much. I did it anyway. I let go of that beacon, the spot I'd first envisioned in my mind, and grabbed a hold of something else. Another place stocked in my memory. I didn't know its exact location, had no geographic coordinates or mental compass to go by. I didn't know if it was safe, but I'd portalled there before. Not myself, granted, but I knew it wasn't on the outskirts of the Lumenis's secret hideout. Good enough for me.

We careened through black nothingness, headfirst and without protection. Time was an illusion, a concept that had no place here. I was in the void, clutching my mind, my core and the foundations of who I was to myself with all I had. A hailstorm of vertical proportions slammed into me face first.

In these realms I didn't have a face or identity I could hold on to. I wasn't even sure I existed. All there was in existence was the will to survive, to keep going, and that damned awareness of Ramondo's servant on my heels. I pedalled in the black void, willing myself away from him and his presence.

The sensations stopped as fast as they came. I was yanked up and down in a violent shiver, thrown back and forth – meaningless and inert like dead weight. I careened into the real world, where gravity and a barrage of sensations were waiting to crash into my system. I stumbled forward and fell, slipping on a patch of dark, wet grass. My vision went out of focus, drifted into black. Pain.

I was on my knees and hands, panting. The air tasted of clean forest and salt. Darkness around me. By all appearances I was alone. A sense of watchfulness, of hidden, predatory eyes that were watching. The spot between my shoulder blades prickled, hair lifting with the ghost of a breath stolen from my mouth. Ramondo's servant or someone else, another form of danger, could be waiting to pounce on me. I turned, peered into darkness.

Where are we?

I had to figure out if we were where I wanted us to go. Not to the threshold of the Lumenis's hiding place, but hopefully somewhere far away: the beach Rico and I trained at.

Another breath. Another step away from me vomiting. Changing direction drained me to the point of being dangerously low on power. If my magic, or the ability to tap into it, was a metaphorical gas tank, I was close to empty.

I crawled forward on my hands and knees, listening. Trying to get anything above the harsh sound of blood thick and wild in my ears. I picked myself up until I could stand on my own two feet again. The hair on the back of my neck lifted.

Someone crashed into me. Bones creaked and snapped back like a ratchet clicking into place. My back grinded into the dirt. I skidded backwards, couldn't breathe. Pain and a flash-concert of white behind my eyes. My hands were trapped underneath my back. More pain.

Seconds lost. I blinked, fought against darkness. Ramondo's human servant was above me, hand on my neck squeezing. He was smiling.

I gagged, made a sound. Any more pressure and he was going to crush my windpipe. Thoughts, reason left me. Pain and the damning need to breathe coldcocked me into inaction. I fought with all I had.

He slammed my head to the ground. Stars exploding in my system and the acid bitter taste of blood on my tongue. More pain. The pressure on my neck loosened, just enough for me to breathe. I wheezed, fought for air, waiting for my vision to flatten out and right itself.

"Where the hell were you going?" He said, as if it was an observation he was murmuring to himself.

I felt the tip of a sharp blade against the side of my neck and froze up. The albino wasn't only a skilled fighter, he was more than that. He was a killer.

"Answer me," he hissed. "Who are you and what are your master's plans?"

"There are no plans." I forced the words out, breathing hard.

The knife penetrated into skin. Pain, and the feeling of something wet and sticky on my skin.

"You're lying. No one leaves in the middle of Red Night's Eve. It would be an insult to what we consider royalty – no one with a sane mind would do that." He leaned into me. "You acted weird at the monastery. My master ordered me to keep an eye on you after we saw you fight Bathoryn. I saw you perform magic. You are more powerful than you let on. You and Alexander are hiding something. My master wants to know what. And you will give me the information."

I swallowed. "And then what?"

"Then I'll bring you back, and you will confess, in front of all the vampires."

My mind was racing. I had to get myself away from him. This instant. I had one decisive advantage, the only one I could use against him. I had magic, and he was human.

I licked my lips. "And if I don't?"

He smiled like a dog baring its teeth. "I'll make you."

Before he could elaborate, give more answers I didn't want to hear, less turn over in my mind, I reached for my magic. Power from my core, surging to the surface like blood gushing from a vein. It hurt, but I pushed on, ignoring the pain.

Albino boy was thrown back, weight lifted from my body. Oxygen to breathe. I righted myself, scooting back, trying to get to my feet. The world was swimming in front of my eyes. I shook my head, pushing up. Too slow.

He slammed into my front, knocking me back into the ground. My teeth clicked together, blood in my mouth. The knife went down, whooshed past my ear, right into forest soil.

He slammed a fist into my stomach, snarling. For the second time within minutes, I couldn't breathe. I think I lost a few seconds then. All I could feel and sense was that white-hot static noise in my ears. The thump thump of my heart that beat in time with waves of pain and sickness in my stomach. The more it retreated, the more I became aware of the pain.

I heard myself gasping, a sound more like a sob than anything else. My cheeks were wet, felt hot like the rest of my face.

Something else penetrated. A flare of power, directly above me. I forced my eyes open. The Albino was right on top of me, hand splayed out in front of my face. His eyes peered into mine, muscles and tendrils strained, angry red skin on his neck.

I realized. Too late.

Power surged. Magic slammed into my face. Air particles turned to stone, manifested and solidified, formed into something else. I recognized the change. I'd performed it multiple times my own. He was ridding space of particles and matter. He was going to choke me to death.

Time halted. Thoughts scattered, pearls from a broken string rolling into dark corners of my mind. I was falling into a state of light-headedness, a delirium-like trance. I saw myself there on the ground. Weak. Helpless. Dying.

Seconds jumped forward, and I gasped, ringing for air, picking up pieces of myself.

I thought I had the edge of my magic over Albino boy. I counted on it. I was wrong. Simple as that. Whoever the albino was, he possessed some magic. Maybe he was a half-witch, maybe even a little more. How could I have missed it?

I gulped in air. It was getting hard to breathe.

The albino was above me. What I saw in his eyes made the blood in my veins stand still. Those were a killer's eyes. It didn't matter whether I was going to give him the information or not. One way or another, he was going to kill me.

I reached for my magic, felt nothing but a silent hum of power I couldn't reach or grasp. Air turned into ash in my mouth. I tried again, reached for the power around me, for my element, which had always come when I asked for it.

Nothing. The space around me was dead to me.

"Tell me what I want to know," Ramondo's servant said.

The cuff was still snug against my skin. It my last ace in the hole, and I was going to make use of it or die trying. Staring death in the eye, I opened my mind to the magical planes around us, focusing on the cuff on my arm. I heard Giuliana's words in my mind.

"Your words unite power and intent."

I whispered the words in my mind. Magna vis-

He shook me. "I said, tell me what I want to know!"

"You have to live and breathe the spell as if the words were your own. ... Focus on the air around you. Get a feel for your element and the power behind."

Sweat on my lips. Ears filled with an angry, scared heartbeat. Scattered thoughts.

Shit, I couldn't get a reading on the cuff.

Magna vis te voco. Libera.

Words crashed into one another, echoed and vanished in my mind. My ears were ringing with the sound of bones snapping. Nothing. I didn't have enough to access my magic.

The albino shifted, leaned forward. He curled fingers around my neck, and picked up the knife slowly. Stroking its edge with his thumb.

"This will be a long night. And when it's over, you'll have told me everything I want to know. And more."

The axis of fear and angst reversed and turned itself inside out. I was all alone. Too weak to use magic. A victim.

I blinked, staring up at my attacker. My eyes were flat on his. The pressure around my neck increased. His hands cut off air, hurting. The knowledge was there. I saw death in his eyes. It was over. I was going to die here in Italy just like my parents.

Just like my parents.

Hatred for all that Ramondo, his master, was, for all the atrocities he committed. For the way of the world that favored the powerful and stepped on the weak. Everyone that was playing by the rules got cheated out of what was theirs. The right to live the life you chose. The right to live a peaceful life. Freedom.

Anger slammed into me, a sickly-sweet poison I welcomed.

* * *

Whatever moral codes you learn during your journey through life, they vanish, mean nothing in the face of death. I'd been sticking to rules and mantras the Circle had imbibed on young witches for centuries, believing in a sense of justice that began to crumble at the crossroads to hell.

Never take more than you can give. Treat life with respect, no matter which life. Being evil is a choice. Using black magic is a choice.

Even after I made use of elements that weren't mine to call, I believed in those mantras. I was careful, so careful not to overstep that invisible line I thought mattered. I was afraid if I did, something inside me would change irreversibly. I thought justice would be done. I thought I could live by the rules.

I couldn't. Whatever I disallowed myself during life, I was going to do it in death. Because it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was one thought. I wasn't going to die like this. I wanted to fight for this life. Survive, no matter the consequences or cost.

Colors flashed behind my retinas, until the world darkened. I found that place inside of me, that serene, calm hole where things crawled and lived too dark to name. I didn't care for them, didn't question what they were. I came for the power I knew I'd find there.

Invisible fingertips brushed the surface of something I'd been afraid to touch ever since I felt the strange power bursts for the first time. This time there was no fear. There were no boundaries and no consequences. Dark fissures of power swam to the surface and I could scoop them up like they were real – something I could touch and make my own. Power offered.

I was not going to refuse.