Chapter 62

Anya first noticed the tall stranger watching her at the Slovakian border. It wasn"t unusual to see fair people in this part of Europe, but the stranger was striking with silver ash hair, fairer even than hers. His blue eyes were made bluer by the dark navy leather trench coat he wore with the collar turned up.

Anya had glimpsed him for a split second in the dining car before someone stepped in front of him, and he was gone. He had looked directly at her, and in that second, her magic had flared like a fever.

In the Czech Republic, they had boarded a train and had their vehicles stored in the cargo carriages. Anya had always felt claustrophobic on trains, and the closer she came to Russia, the more agitated she became. After the first few days of driving, Anya"s body clock was so entirely out of whack, she lost the concept of time.

Trajan understood her anxiety and was doing his best to distract and calm her. He told her stories of the relatives he had known and read books aloud to her as she lay in his arms. Anya suspected theirs was the strangest relationship in the world, but whatever it was, it was enough for her and was what she needed.

"Do you know that you are drinking too much again?" Yvan said behind her. Anya sat in a booth in what she called the "vodka carriage," the only place she could successfully hide and that conveniently had its own bar.

"And?" Anya made a point of taking a long swallow of her drink while keeping full eye contact.

Yvan"s eyes narrowed at the challenge, and he purposely sat down opposite her. He had been playing cards and arguing playfully with Cerise hours before, and while Anya was happy they were getting along, something about it bothered her. She didn"t know where the streak of jealousy came from; she was with Trajan, so she shouldn"t care what Yvan did with anyone. She still couldn"t stop the overprotective urge that rose up in her.

"Is there a reason for all the drinking?" Yvan asked, bringing her out of her internal arguing.

"Boredom. Nerves. Magic bugging me. You name it."

"Getting drunk every day won"t help any of that, and you know it."

"How"s Cerise?" Anya asked abruptly.

Yvan"s eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Cerise? She"s fine. Why ask me?"

"You two seem to be getting awfully friendly."

"I"m awfully friendly with everybody. How is your human-thanatos relationship working?"

"It"s working just fine."

Yvan smiled pleasantly at her. "How nice for you."

"It is, yes."

"If it"s so great, how come you are hiding in the back of the train, drinking by yourself?" he asked.

Anya scowled but couldn"t think of a reply. Yvan sighed and helped himself to her vodka.

"I"m not going to argue with you, shalos?. I just think there should be someone in your life who is not going to indulge you because they think you"re the chosen one," he said, draining his vodka in one gulp. "You should be using the time on this train to learn some more magic from Honaw and Chayton, not drinking the entire vodka supply. Get focused and stop wallowing." Yvan hesitated before he bent down and kissed the top of her head, whispering, "Get some sleep occasionally."

Yvan left her sitting there, drunk and ashamed. He was disappointed, and that killed her more than anything he could have said.

As soon as the carriage door shut, Anya burst into tears. She should"ve just told him the truth. She was drinking because the closer to Russia they got, the more afraid she was becoming. Anya might have seen Ilya shut the gates in her vision, but she had no idea if that would work for her. She didn"t know what the words were that he had spoken as he did the ritual. She could turn up and cut herself to pieces, and the gate could do nothing.

Chosen one, my ass.

Anya was running the sleeves of her gray sweater over her face to wipe off her tears when she spotted the stranger again. Tall, impossibly fair, and looking at her with a mixture of horror and surprise. He went to open the door to the carriage, but he stopped, turned around, and disappeared along the aisle.

Anya"s chest was filled with instant pressure, and she fought to push down the magic threatening to break out of her. Shaking and drunk, she got to her feet and hurried back to her compartment.

It"s just a coincidence. He probably didn"t want to come and drink in there because you were bawling your eyes out.

Over the next few days, Anya spent her time with Chayton and Honaw, as Yvan suggested. They were trying to teach her how to use the drum she had been given. Like Baba Zosia, they didn"t dare touch it in case the symbols changed. They had tried dream walking a few more times, but every time Anya was drawn to something she shouldn"t be and was pulled back in.

Anya wanted to tell them about the silver haired man she had seen who had disrupted her magic so much. If it wasn"t for the fact she had been drunk when she had seen him both times, she probably would have.

No, she would keep the stranger to herself, at least until she saw him sober. Then Anya would send Isabelle and Katya to rough him up for scaring her so much.

"What is it?" Trajan"s face came into focus in front of her. They were eating in one of the dining cars, and the noise of clanking cutlery and people talking was almost deafening.

"Nothing, just thinking," she replied vaguely.

Trajan looked at her over the top of his glasses. "Are you and Yvan talking to each other yet?"

"I don"t know what you mean."

"Come now, Anya. You haven"t spoken to him all day. That"s some kind of record because usually, you two are thick as thieves. Did you have an argument?"

"Something like that. We"ll get over it, don"t worry."

"I"m not worried, nor am I complaining about having you to myself for once. But still, don"t let some small oversight become an incurable problem. You care for each other too much for that."

Anya smiled because only Trajan would say it like that—"an incurable problem." He wore a burgundy scarf around his neck that set off his eyes and contrasted boldly with his dark curls. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a nervous habit that Anya didn"t think he was even aware of.

Something pale flashed over his shoulder, and Anya saw her phantom stranger sitting at the end tables. Her breath caught, and magic rushed through her veins as it tried to break free of her. It was like it wanted to reach out and touch him. She dug her nails into her palms and tried to hold it in, so she didn"t set herself on fire again.

The silver haired man looked at Trajan the way a gardener looks at a slug, and he screwed up his face. He noticed Anya watching him, and his expression relaxed as he inclined his head in greeting. Slowly, he tucked the paper he had been reading under his arm and departed from the carriage. It wasn"t until he was out of sight that Anya finally felt like she could breathe again.

"I think you are right," she said and got to her feet. "I need to go and speak with Yvan."

Trajan opened his mouth to say something, but she grabbed him by the soft fabric of his scarf and pulled him in for a quick kiss before hurrying after the silver haired man.

By the time Anya moved into the next carriage, the stranger was gone like he had vanished into thin air. What the hell is going on?

Anya glanced over her shoulder a few times as she hurried to Yvan"s compartment. Without knocking, she barged in to find the firebird in full flaming glory perched on the metal bar of the bed. Swearing, she pulled the door shut behind her before a curious passenger accidentally looked in.

"Hey, is Yvan in there? I really need to talk to him," Anya said, sitting down on the bed beside it. It cooed at her, and Anya got the distinct impression she was getting a cold shoulder. She slowly released some of her magic, so her hand lit up with its own fire. Very carefully to not startle it, she gently stroked its back.

"I know he"s annoyed with me, but this is important." It ignored her, and too tired to fight, she lay down to wait it out.

She looks so peaceful when she sleeps, the firebird said. It looked down at Anya as her hand burned with magic, her flames dancing with its own like they were one. Deep inside of him, Yvan squirmed.

If I let you out, do you promise not to upset her? Look how tired she is. She is fading under the strain. You are meant to be the one to stop it from happening. You promised to protect her.

Let me out so I can!Yvan shouted.

The firebird"s wing touched her cheek before it started to change. Yvan tried to hold in the cries of pain so as not to wake her. He shifted and lay naked and panting on the thin carpet. He looked up uncertainly, but Anya hadn"t moved.

Yvan got to his feet and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt. The firebird was right. She did look drained. He had been harsh with her, but at least she had stopped drinking so much. Yvan wondered if Trajan knew she had been sneaking off to the bar when everyone was sleeping. Probably not. Trajan could still be clueless about the most mundane of things.

It"s not up to him to take care of her. It"s up to you, the firebird huffed at him.

Yvan ignored it as he carefully placed a spare blanket over Anya. He brushed her cheek lightly with his fingertips before he sat down on the floor and rested his back against the bed.

Anya moved in her sleep, and her arm flopped down beside him. As he was tucking it back in, her fingers tightened around his, and held them. Yvan left his hand there for a long moment, a sense of guilty weakness washing over him. Once she had settled, he carefully unlocked their fingers and pulled his hand back. He wasn"t in the mood to torture himself.

"Nice to see you," Anya said and opened her eyes.

"Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn"t. I didn"t mean to fall asleep. It kind of happened." She yawned.

"You looked like you needed it," Yvan replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her. "I"m sorry if I upset you last night."

"Don"t be sorry. You were right after all, and we have bigger problems," Anya said as she sat up. "I think there is someone on the train following me."

"How do you know? He could just be another passenger."

"I thought that too, but his gaze is too direct, and it seems…aware. He is really tall, silver ash hair, and whenever I see him, all my magic starts dancing like a little kid wanting him to pay attention to it," Anya replied, toying with the end of her braid.

Yvan frowned. "Have you told anyone else about him?"

"Just you. I know the others would probably freak out and start checking every compartment, thinking he was going to attack me." Yvan did his best to hide that was what he wanted to do too.

"True. We seem to have collected a trigger-happy group around us who would rough up a passenger before asking questions," he replied. "He hasn"t said anything to you or hurt you, so he really could just be a passenger."

"I wanted to think that too, except how my magic reacts when I see him. I don"t think he is Darkness, but he"s something else. It"s like my magic wants to reach out and touch him. It has never done that before."

"How do you know he wasn"t one of the Darkness?"

"I don"t, but he didn"t feel bad. I don"t think my magic would have reacted like that if he was. I met Vasilli and V?lundr, and I never experienced anything like that," Anya argued.

"He might just think you are a pretty woman drinking alone too much."

Anya snorted. "If he was going to hit on me, he would have done it by now. Maybe he"s another magic user and is curious?"

"Do you want me to get Izrayl and do a search for him? See what he"s up to?" Yvan asked.

Anya pushed her hands through her tousled hair. "Yes? No. No, don"t. It could be my nerves about closing the gates messing with my head."

"Okay, but if he approaches you and is threatening, blast the hell out of him with your magic. I"ll help you clean up the body afterward."

Anya laughed. "Thanks, Yvan."

"I"m not joking. I"ll keep an eye out for someone matching his description and see what the firebird thinks of him. He could be another magic user who is curious about you, and I don"t like it." Yvan didn"t want to be an overprotective asshole, but he couldn"t help it. "Maybe you shouldn"t go anywhere by yourself, especially at night. If you want to drink, come and get me."

Anya rolled her eyes. "I would, but your frown of disapproval would kill my buzz."

Aramis watchedAnya leave her tall male companion"s compartment with a magical aura that burned as bright as the sun. As he followed her, she glanced around cautiously as if she sensed his presence. Her trailing magic left a red signature clinging to surfaces wherever it landed. Any magical adept person could follow her if they wanted to, which was going to make it harder to protect her. And there was no doubt in his mind she would need protection.

She was so much like Yanka that any of her old rivals would kill her on sight for that alone.

Aramis thought he would be able to perform this assignment with relative ease, even with his history with her family, but one glance at those green eyes and pale hair, and he had to fight not to go to her and tell her everything. It wasn"t Anya who he saw, though. It was Yanka.

She"s dead, but you can stop Anya from meeting the same horrible fate.

Anya had many powerful bodyguards, and she was already suspicious of him. He had caught a glimpse of Isabelle Blackwood on the train, a legend even among the Illumination.

Then there was the thanatos, who was obviously her lover. Anger had washed through him when he had seen them together. To get involved with a death spirit was to court death itself. She didn"t seem nervous or repulsed, yet she would have to know what he truly was. How did she get so involved with all of these creatures?

Aramis knew he was going to have to wait to get her alone to approach her. He had almost done it the night he saw her alone and drinking, but his courage had failed him as those familiar green eyes had cut him to pieces. She had to be approached carefully, so she didn"t spook before she heard him out. Aramis didn"t like the thought of using compulsion magic on her to get her to trust him, but he didn"t see another choice.

Before leaving the carriage, Aramis gave a careless flick of his hand, and the trails of her scarlet magic faded away.