Page 5 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
And did she truly wish for her family to see her like this? She hoped that in their eyes, no matter where they were watching from, she was still a twenty-five-year-old medical student on the day of her graduation, on the threshold of a spectacular career as a surgeon. Daddy’s little girl, turned into an independent woman. Mummy’s pride and joy. “The coolest” sister. A person with dreams and a future.
That life – and all its possibilities – had been torn away fromher the moment she’d been kidnapped and propelled into the immortal world. A world filled with creatures and dangers of all kinds. A world that demanded sacrifices and left no room for love, only the ruthless survival of the fittest. A world belonging to Mikhail Korovin, the manticore who’d kidnapped her and whose memory still made her heart race.
For a moment, Amelia had wondered if she could have a place in that world. When the old Oracle had passed, and she’d taken her place, it had seemed almost certain. But she had none of the old Oracle’s mastery of her powers. Amelia’sabilitieswere a hurricane of unclear images and sounds. The more she tried to calm them, the deeper she sank into them. So she almost always blocked them, ever since she discovered she could do it. At least this way, she could keep some of her sanity intact while she got used to her new reality.
A noise shattered the unnatural stillness, pulling Amelia out of her thoughts. The branches behind her rustled, and a blonde woman emerged behind a nearby trunk.
Amelia’s heart pounded in her chest. Her breath hitched, her muscles tensed, ready to flee. But something kept her rooted in place.
No, it’s not what you think…
Amelia stared at the stranger, who wore a coat and leather boots. Her golden hair shone as if it had been sprinkled with brocade…or magic dust. She had a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, and a slightly sharpened chin. Her light green eyes, framed by long lashes, resembled a panther’s – soft, yet powerful. A thin, straight nose and full lips completed her perfect features.
Maybe this woman is just out for a walk, Amelia. Maybe she, just like you, is searching for herself in this cold, empty park…
The woman sat on the empty side of the bench. “Hello, Amelia.”
She had been so careful, yet here, in this isolated park, theyhad found her. All these days, while she’d been racing through streets, searching for skeletons at every corner, she had never imagined that her enemy would have such a gentle air. Such a warm and melodious voice.
Amelia stood up, about to run away.
Then the stranger spoke. “It must be hard to have nobody to talk to when so much is happening. A new world. A transformation. Visions. Murders. Falling in love with the wrong man.”
How does she know? She can’t know. She’s just guessing…right?
“Do you need someone to talk to?”
Amelia blinked at the woman, suddenly unable to get her feet off the ground. The energy around the stranger drew her in like a magical magnet.
“Who are you?” Amelia’s voice came out sharper than she intended.
“My name is Ana.” The woman raised her chin to maintain eye contact.
It wasn’t right for Amelia to linger when someone was after her. WhenMikhailwas probably still trying to find her. But she wanted to know more about the woman.
No, do not trust her. Your first thought was that she’s an enemy!
Another part of her, the part that was tired and desperate for answers, still hesitated.
“Ana? Have we met before?”
She could have sworn she’d seen this woman’s face somewhere.
“We have not,” she said. Amelia’s mind raced. Why, then, did she feel so familiar? And then the stranger smiled, her voice soft but firm. “But you may know me as Ana, Mother of Nymphs.”
What?!Amelia summoned every ounce of courage to keep herself standing straight. That’s where she’d seen her! In thecorridor with the marble figures of the Hospital. Amelia had stared at the statue, bewitched by her beauty. She could recall even now the chambermaid’s words:‘They say the marble statues are just as seductive as she was herself.’
Was.How could this same creature be sitting on a bench in the middle of North Park, in flesh and blood, when all immortals believed she was long dead?
Amelia glanced at the woman’s hands, resting in her lap. They were wrapped in gloves. The marble statue, at least, had sharp, dagger-like nails – a hallmark of nymphs.
“How are you alive?” Amelia asked.
“I never died, Amelia.”
Amelia hesitated. If this woman really meant harm, she could have done it by now…
“I am not your enemy, I’m certain you can feel that,” the woman said, as if reading Amelia’s thoughts. “The two of us are on the same side.”
