Ana had retreated to the life of a recluse despite her youth for a variety of reasons.

One of which stared her in the face. A stack of white papers with stark black words, all marked up in red with her tiny script. A contract outlining unreasonable demands, too obvious loopholes, criminally rude attempts to undersell her family's company, their resources, and their worth. This wasn't even the worst contract to pass through her hands and they had no choice but to consort to working with them due to the Tokudaiji's Clan Elders insistence on maintaining old connections. Her maternal family's business made her loathe the idea of interacting with other people.

She capped her fountain pen and sighed. Even the soft jazz playing downstairs, Kol's delighted choice, couldn't soothe her nerves.

Regardless of her close friends and broad range of acquaintances from her worldly travels, Ana wholeheartedly believed that she suited the life of a hermit in the mountains.

She never thought she'd prefer her work as an emissary over anything but she was starting to see the appeal of ghosts. Her paternal family's businesses never inspired anything close to this amount of exasperation and personal frustration.

Her phone rang, vibrating on the mahogany wood desk. She winced and glanced at the flashing screen—Tetsuo Tokudaiji. Her favourite and least favourite maternal cousin which depended on the day and his behaviour. There were three outcomes of answering a call from him; a headache, laughter, or complete disbelief. The possibility of being torn between all three was also possible. If she didn't answer, however… he'd probably assume she was in one of her phases and worry endlessly.

Ana sighed and took her chances.

"Tetsuo," she said as she picked up the phone, immediately switching to Japanese. "Why are you calling? Don't give me more work or problems. I have enough."

"How rude of you. Can't I just call to call?"

"No. Every time you do, it ends in a headache."

"I wanted to know if you're coming home for the new year," he said. "Grandfather wants to see you."

"Don't use him as an excuse. I already told him about my plans. You're going to have to fight the gods on this one since they won't stop sending souls my way."

"Is that so?" he asked calmly. "It isn't because you're holding grudges and planning revenge?"

Ana paused, imagining the faux-neutral look on his face—one so alike and unlike her own. Their families often called them the two sides of the same coin but she disagreed. He was a true lion-hearted Tokudaiji, through and through; from his look, demeanour, and talents. Bold, brave, honest, and disgustingly moral. The Clan Elders favoured him as the clan heir despite his blatant rejection of their values. He was the best and worst of them, all at once.

"Not this lecture again," she said. "And if I am?"

"You should learn forgiveness at some point in your life."

"Bold advice coming from someone who went unscathed," she said. "Worry more about yourself and keep the monk rhetoric there too."

He paused and sighed. "Sorry. What are you doing? How are you doing?"

"Doing the work of three people all at once and I've been sent a new soul. I don't even have time to visit restaurants to review or blog about them."

"I guess the gods disagreed with your idea of taking a break," he mused. "Though, you've been getting significantly less than when you lived here."

"That's because they over-relied on me there and I stumbled upon them by chance. Anyway, I have to finish translating communications with a Korean client for Uncle Kiyoshi and a French contract for Uncle Kentaro. Then, there's negotiations."

"Good luck with that," Tetsuo said dryly. "I have to perform blessings and traverse a mountain in the backwoods of Hokkaido."

"You're doing well? What about Auntie and Uncle? I know grandfather is doing well and Satoshi sent me three hundred photos of Hitomi's ultrasound."

"My parents think I'll die single even though I'm in my early twenties," he groaned. "They're looking into arranged marriages."

"They're jealous that Uncle Sanetsu has a grandchild on the way."

"What does that even have to do with me? They can adopt another child if they want a baby in the house. Gods know I can't take care of one right now."

"Well, that's what you get for having parents."

He paused. "Those jokes will never be funny."

"Then, why are you smiling?"

He hung up before she could get another word in edgewise. Ana leaned back and laughed under her breath. She hoped she gave him as many headaches as he'd given her throughout the years.

"And what's so funny, darling?" Kol asked, pretending to lean against the closed door he phased through.

"Baby of the family things," she said after a pause, the English words rolling off her tongue in a stilted manner. "Anyway, I'm finished with this. I'll just drop it off with my uncle's secretary and I have the potion recipe memorised. We'll confirm the context of my powers on this continent then go shopping in either Flushing or Chinatown in Manhattan for the ingredients we need."

"Does distance from your homeland affect the strength of your magic?" he asked curiously. "Some witches from New Orleans have the same affliction. They're reliant on borrowed strength and a pool of ancestral power that aids them."

"It's nothing like that," she said dismissively. "I take into account the environment and any natural interference. You can modify all rituals to accommodate for anything. It's similar to choosing to walk with or against the wind, you can do either but one is easier than the other and the other requires you to overpower the wind." She sighed and stretched. "This would be much easier on the west coast."

Kol leaned over her shoulder to read the documents sitting on her desk. His brow furrowed and he scoffed, clearly uninterested in such measly human matters. "Now, why is that, darling?"

"I've performed magic there and I have more sources of information, more contacts. There's a much bigger supernatural Asian population that I'm familiar with." She headed downstairs and threw on a jacket. "Let's take a walk."

"The speed in which you walk pains me, darling," he said. "You couldn't have grown more throughout your youth?"

She blinked up at him. "When I resurrect you, I'll curse you to bump your head every time you pass through a door."

"You wound me," he proclaimed.

"The doors will. Not me."

The faint sun of high noon peeked out from a swathe of grey. A dim light, growing and fading all at once. Kol watched Ana with a rapt eye. She nestled deeper into her black turtleneck and puffy beige jacket against the blowing winds. The humans of New York City continued to pass her by, not a single one casting a glance at her even if she crossed their paths while weaving through the crowds.

It was almost like a magic-induced reaction, an aura that surrounded her coaxing them to look away.

He had experienced the filthy subways beneath the city, almost reminiscent of the English streets before plumbing and the modern era, as they entered the heart of Manhattan. If he had been alive, Kol would have simply plucked Ana up into his arms and ran them across the waters, the Brooklyn Bridge, or chauffeured her wherever she wished. He didn't understand how she could withstand any of the intense crowding, the undoubtedly terrible smell of refuse, and all of the other shortcomings of New York public transportation. When he had voiced such concerns, Ana simply had laughed.

"I've been through worse," she had said.

Any attempt to whittle an explanation out of her were adeptly avoided through their journey from her uncle's place of work and Lower Manhattan.

Now, he watched as she stopped in the middle of the pavement on some street in Chinatown, looking around at the crimson red and faded cadmium yellow buildings of a bygone era. The green paint on the accents of balconies, ladders, and pipes peeled. Brick laid buildings were solid and crowded together. Chinese characters splashed over the fabric awnings of many businesses, casting shadows over the sidewalk and entrances. Large vertical neon signs covered nearly every inch of space overhead, flashing and bright due to the despondent sunlight. Some offered translations, most did not.

People crowded the walkways, uncomfortably so, and yet, Ana had never looked more at peace as she traversed through the Chinatown quarter of Lower Manhattan. Kol followed her to a side street, barely large enough to fit two cars in width, and she ducked into a modern tea shop with something about bubbles in the signs. He looked around at the abominably adorable decor crammed into the tiny space.

This place could not possibly offer what they're looking for.

It was suspiciously empty.

There was a young girl, about Rebekah's physical age, manning the counter. She looked innocent enough with her features hidden by a layer of bangs and rounded gold-rimmed glasses.

Ana leaned against the counter and knocked against it twice. "I'll have an eight-pointed jasmine tea for Tao."

The girl straightened, startled—as if she hadn't even heard Ana enter. Her wide brown eyes slipped over Kol's guide with a sense of wonderment. "Of course, ma'am."

She opened the small doors separating the kitchen from the rest of the tea shop. Ana passed by her with a small smile before she went through the swinging black doors that led to a barren room with another door. It was composed of decaying wood, almost as if someone had tried to turn it into ashes. She pressed her hand against the slab of splinters.

Everything glowed a faint pink before the door opened to reveal a stairwell.

"Where are we headed?" he asked warily.

"Somewhere secret," she said.

If the girl hadn't acknowledged Ana's presence, he would've truly thought she was a mere spectre from the afterlife taunting him. She moved up the stairs like a shadow through smoke, soft footed and soundless, and she blended into the dimly lit scenery as if she had walked through this place a thousand times before. Her form tempered into the scenery like she were a mere projection, a figment of his imagination, as she walked on and on.

He shivered as he followed her up the stairs.

A vast sea of layered voices rose up from the ground floor, chanting and echoing, as if chasing them. As if hunting. They surrounded them entirely like an iron fist or an inescapable cage. Thousands of eyes followed him like an angry hive of wasps, hot on their tails. The air iced against his skin.

He couldn't breathe.

"Ana," he said, alarmed. He attempted to grab her and redirect her to anywhere else but where they were. His hands passed through her body and he shivered. "We need to leave, now."

She stopped and turned to him. The black ocean waves of her hair framed her pale, unfathomable face. Under the sickly fluorescent lights, her tea-brown eyes looked murky and obsidian. Her rosy-red lips dulled, pallid as a cadaver. The edges of her softened and she almost blurred. Everything else in the stairwell remained as it was, crystal clear, but she became more obscure, as if a layer of fog separated them.

"Those are the eyes of the gods." she said softly. Her words were muffled, whispered, like she had said them through a wall. "They're watching."

Red vignetted his vision and the shadows grew taller, trawling the walls. He could almost spot faces and hands reaching out from the gaps.

Was this what it always felt like to her as an emissary? Was this her magic? Did she feel the full brunt of this gasping panic it inspired in him? If so, he couldn't help but pity her, couldn't help but understand that acrid bitterness that had infiltrated her voice—but not her face, never her face—the other day.

Ana continued up the stairs calmly. Her hair flew behind her like a pennant of dread, a warning.

The air continued to suffocate him and he almost absconded until they reached the top floor. They stood before a carnelian-stained door, a faded gold Chinese character had been etched into the grain. A colourful mirror swung from a red string.

The eyes and voices had dissipated, and it felt like he could breathe again.

"We're here," Ana announced quietly.

It was a secret temple hidden deep within a corner of Chinatown, its history deeply connected to her paternal family. They had concealed themselves often throughout the years behind many businesses; the latest one was a bubble tea shop owned by a lovely woman who curated a unique menu by herself. Ana glanced at Kol, who seemed uncharacteristically shaken, before she placed her hand on the red door and waited.

A spark singed her hand as the magic on the other side recognised her. The hinges groaned as they swung open to reveal a wafting floral-sweet smoke, sticky and fragrant, underlined by the scent of incense ashes. Everyone within the temple stopped in their motions of prayer and study, eyes turned to her as she stepped through the threshold.

She looked around.

Ana highly doubted they had a visitor within the last year.

From her paternal family, Arnaud was the last one to visit New York, eight months ago. He had no inclination of indulging within the supernatural and left those responsibilities to the rest of them. He was the heir to an equally important empire, after all. The normal human facade they wore required it.

Greying light pierced through the ruby red curtains over the window but the rest of the main room remained lit by the golden flames of candles, reflecting the garnet hues of the room. The main altar was carved out of fragrant rosewood and displayed a variety of full incense holders, plates of fruit, candleholders, and gilded idols. It filled the centre of the room, surrounded by monks and their aides.

A man, sturdy and built like the Great Wall, remained at the head and led them all in prayer. He had a fine moustache and hard, stern eyes. Modest indigo robes did nothing to hide his solid frame and the high bun he kept his hair in showed off his clear and chiselled features.

"Apologies for interrupting your session in prayer," Ana said, slipping neatly into Cantonese. "You may continue."

"Who are we to make the divine emissary wait?" the man leading the prayer said. "Princess Anastasia Lau. Welcome to the Temple of the Sun. We are honoured by your visit."

"Priest Yeung Luk," she greeted with a bow. "Members of the Temple of the Sun."

Yeung Luk bowed deeper. The monks and aides followed his lead, dipping deeper in their bows.

"A pleasure to serve your family once more, Princess Anastasia," he said.

She waved it off. "Please refrain from using that title. I'm not a princess."

"Ah, still filled with such modesty," Yeung Luk said fondly before he dismissed his monks and aides to return to their prayers. "The gods chose well all those years ago."

"You'd be the first to think that."

He laughed lightly, honey-brown eyes shining in the dark room. Kol remained behind her, warily observing and studying, nearly close enough to touch. The gods' attentiveness had truly unnerved him on their way up. She almost reached out to soothe him but thought better of it—more magic might not help him at all.

Yeung Luk sobered and looked behind her. "I can sense a soul following you, Miss Anastasia."

Her lips twitched at the familiar title and name, reminiscent of the indulgent tones it was often spoken in.

"A charge from the gods," she explained. "I'm here for information and testing purposes. Have you noticed a need to change your divinely connected rituals after leaving Asia for foreign soil?"

"No, not at all." He shook his head and thoughtfully glanced over her. His fingers touched his lips slightly. "But, I am not blessed the same way you are nor am I capable of the same things."

"Nothing can ever be simple, can it?" She sighed and stood beside him. "I hoped you had all the answers like you did when I was a child."

"That time has long passed, Miss Anastasia, especially with the consideration of all the stories Thomas has told me. You've surpassed my capabilities long ago." He guided her towards a more private section of the room. "I can no longer provide the answers that you seek. However, I have nothing but assurance and confidence in your abilities."

Priest Yeung Luk was not always a leader nor a man with a title. In his youth, he had mingled with the previous generation of Laus when he took residence in Taiwan, hunting demons and the remnants of his own earthly revelations. Her uncle Thomas, Arnaud's father, enjoyed spinning tall tales to anyone willing to listen to him and Yeung Luk had always indulged in the tales of the next generation of Laus with an uncle's affection. He treated her accomplishments with the same reverence as Arnaud's exploits in business.

"He exaggerated, I'm sure," she said dryly. "I'll perform a ritual to ascertain any possible changes. Can you provide an aide and a warded room?"

"Of course," he said. "I'll be your aide."

"Are you planning on testing me?"

"I do wish to see the improvements my first true pupil has made," he confessed.

"I was five!"

"And a prodigy in all manners."

"That's debatable." Ana turned to Kol who had finally drifted back to her side. "Are you ready to witness some magic?"

He brightened, eyes alert. Kol hadn't lied about his love for magic. When she revived him, she'd attempt to find a magical discipline he could possibly deviate himself to. Vampirism killed certain magical abilities but she knew quite a few vampires capable of certain talents and they could be lured out of their hiding places with a bit of unorthodox coaxing. They would teach Kol if she asked.

Yeung Luk guided them through two side corridors winding around the apartment complex until they reached a small room, emptied of all worldly possessions and materials. Only a small altar and incense holder sat in the middle, indenting the tan mats beneath. Ana knelt before the altar while the priest remained at the door.

She stared at the golden incense holder and Kol sat down beside her.

"What do we need?"

"Nothing," she said softly.

Her vision clouded over and a faint pink mist rose from the ground. Kol's gaze flickered around, turbulent and alarmed, but she ignored him. The incense holder centred itself without prompting and the incense ashes flattened with a flick of her finger. A glowing magic circle sunk into powder.

She could hear the dull chant of the gods' heralds rippling through the thin barrier between the realms. A nebulous but unbreakable film passing through her. Ana set her hand on the table and another magic circle carved into the wood, fiery sparks appearing in its wake. The chanting grew louder and she could feel hundreds of hands grasping any piece of her they could teach. A fist pierced through her chest from behind and tendrils of magic wrapped around her.

Ana lifted her hand from the table.

Everything faded away and her vision returned to her.

"Great news, my powers are unaffected," she told Kol.

He frowned at her, brows furrowed. "Ana…"

Priest Yeung Luk interrupted him as he stepped away from the door he protected. A smart move on his part, undoubtedly. "Your powers have multiplied throughout the years but your control of it is truly unparalleled. I've never felt that much power contained into a single room without it being destroyed immediately."

"Yeah," she said faintly. "My tasks required that control. Do or die, you know?"

Yeung Luk and Kol watched her, their gazes different but the same; worried, as if a stranger had invaded her body. Her hands trembled as she wrangled her powers back under control—she hadn't done something similar in years. Power assessments were rarely necessary. She had never accidentally reached out to the herald's realm in years, no matter how many times the gods attempted to contact her through their other lackeys. The distance between them remained steady and vast but the moment they sensed her return, it had pressed closer, reaching out insistently to meet her again.

She dusted herself off and smiled, tremulously, at her old mentor. "Thank you, again, for your help."

"You have changed, my child." His eyes lingered on her, a hidden sorrow rising in his posture and gaze.

"We all do," she said, clearing her throat. "No one lives our kind of lives and remains the same."

"No," he agreed. "We do not, but someone as young as you should have never suffered so. It's a deep injustice I had not realised until I set my eyes upon this. Do your uncles and aunts know of this?"

"I was made an emissary like my ancestors," she told him. "But unlike them, I chose the path of least suffering. Don't worry too much about me."

"Ah, but the previous generations will always worry. It's the damaged world we have handed you affecting your lives. We cannot help but think it is our doing."

"That's life," she repeated.

That's life, that's life, that's life. If she repeated to herself enough, maybe she'd accept it, too.

Kol took up what he had deemed his spot at the kitchen island.

He watched Ana wade through her new task with all the grace of ocean water lapping at the white shores of a quiet beach. The faint curls in her hair bounced with each movement as she pulled it up to reveal the creamy skin of her neck and throat. Kol couldn't name a single vampire he knew that could deny themselves the possibility of such an indulgence. Perhaps Elijah and Finn but they were monumental bores.

She donned a soft floral apron and tied it around her tiny frame. Unlike her demeanour at the temple, she relaxed, falling into an easy and comfortable stance. Almost adorably cosy.

One would think the novelty of observing her would wane after a whole day spent doing nothing else but he doubted he'd ever tire of his little hard-won discoveries.

For someone who claimed to know so few people in the city, she blended into it without hesitation. Her movements through Chinatown suggested confidence with her easygoing demeanour. The language she spoke remained soft when rolling out of her mouth—terribly sweet. Like she had been with that monk. He hadn't understood a word spoken between her and anyone she interacted with but he had lived for a thousand years. He could read people from more than words alone; bodies too often telling more truths than mouths ever could or would. The monk had nearly fawned over Ana, affectionate like an old sentimental family member who still looked upon her like a child.

When they hunted for potion ingredients, she would step into a store and engage with the shopkeeper without a second thought. She inspired a slow relaxation in them, tempered by a quiet delight only possibly found in the sharing of a mother tongue and community. They conversed in low tones and Ana was ever so polite and thoughtful. She always overpaid in cash and accepted no change, a charming smile on her lips, silencing all attempts to challenge her.

"What are you doing now?"

"Sacrificing my pho pot for this concoction. Hopefully I won't need it again." She pouted, rose-red lips slightly moist from a gloss. "We'll brew dragon well tea for fourteen days, top it off daily with blessed waters. We'll need to harvest fresh peony petals at the end of the week too."

"If I remember correctly, it isn't peony season," he said.

"We'll source from greenhouses. This is an expensive potion," she said. "Grounded ginseng today, dragon blood incense ashes tomorrow, agarwood oil for two days, rosewood powder with peony petals on the seventh, and a secret ingredient for the last three."

Kol noted down each ingredient in his head. "And what do they do?"

"They're all ingredients inundated with longevity and life magic," she said. "The potion was created in the rural mountains of Guangxi by chance."

"And how do you plan on getting the blessed water, darling? Will we have to con a priest?"

"I'm blessing it," she said. "Have you forgotten what I am?"

Kol watched her fill the giant stock pot with water before she set it on the gas stovetop. He hid a smile as she climbed up a stepstool to hover over the pot but it dropped when she slapped herself. It was a light smack on her nose but resounding.

"What are you doing?" he asked, reaching out as if he could stop her.

"Divine emissary tears can bless anything," she explained as her eyes water. Her nose reddened slightly as tears dripped down her face. "It's easier than rituals to bless things."

She patted her face dry and set aside the stool. Her eyes remained slightly red and a small patch of pink where she hit her own face marred her smooth skin. He frowned and reached out to trace the edges of the mark.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said.

"It's too late," she said. "We're doing it for the next fourteen days. It needs to be blessed on the spot and the other method takes an hour."

Kol understood it was required if he wished to return to the living. For some unfeasible reason, he couldn't stand the idea of her getting hurt over something like this when there were other options. She was a delicate little creature that deserved only softness, especially in return for the kindness she showed him. If only for that alone.

Ana watched the water roil as she dumped in the dragon well tea leaves.

Such an act was equivalent to a crime and an assassination of any good tea but this wasn't meant for her pleasure or consumption. She mourned the death of the brew, regardless, and sighed as the leaves bloomed a bright green amongst the blessed waters. Her phone vibrated on the counter, the plastic sage green case clacking against the counter. She blew out a sigh.

Jasmine Yeung flashed across the screen.

She snatched the phone up and immediately answered it.

"Don't tell me you need rescuing," she said. The Cantonese words left her mouth in a rapid fire, the language was the most comfortable in her mouth despite the many years she spent living in Japan. It was a melodious language that flowed so naturally to her. "You promised that I'd never have to do anything like beat a Ugandan blood diamond businessman in poker for your release ever again. I'm busy, so is Koji, and I don't know who could help rescue you this time."

"I'm fine! " Jasmine whined. " I just wanted to say hi. I know Koji is busy. He left me alone for a stupid mission in Europe. "

"Hi," Ana deadpanned but her lips turned up slightly regardless.

She could already imagine the pout on the other girl's gorgeous face, softened by a pink flush. Her bold features, catlike and sharp, hazed by her makeup. Jasmine was an undeniable beauty with a flurry of expressions, enrapturing anyone paying attention to her. She had always let her emotions run free across her face, an open book through and through.

"You're no fun, you know? I'm your best friend. You should be nicer to me because I wanted to ask when you're coming back so we can have a girl's day. We haven't had one in a while. "

Ana glanced at Kol while she hummed under her breath. "I've been delayed. You know how family business goes and… I've been given another assignment."

"You're back in?"

"I've only stopped for three months this time," she said. "The gods really hate that I don't like working for free."

"Well, I'm still free to house-sit until next week," Jasmine said. "Anyway, I can't believe you're still helping the Tokudaiji business flourish when the Clan Elders still run the show behind the scenes. You know, I'd gouge their eyes out with my nails if you asked."

"That's why I don't ask," she murmured and stirred the pot. "Anyway, it's my uncle who requested my help. Not the Clan Elders."

"It's still benefiting those vile, detestable, black-hearted—"

"I appreciate that you own a thesaurus but you don't need to waste your breath. Anyway, brunch and mimosas when I get back?"

"No, no, no. It has to be a baking day."

"You just say that because you want me to bake for you."

"I'll be helpful! I'll bring you bubble tea," Jasmine said. She always spoke in such a way that Ana could almost perceive her expressions through imagination alone. A puppy-dog begging was what she imagined now. "Actually, why don't we make it a whole day and do both? Midnight baking like old times."

"We only baked at that time after a night of clubbing and drinking."

"We can do that too."

"No, we're lucky we never burned a house down, and we're too old to get that drunk without Koji around as our babysitter," she winced. "Anyway, I've dedicated myself to the boring life."

"Ugh," Jasmine scoffed. "You need to have fun again."

"What happened to the new boyfriend? You can't pretend he's one of the girls for a day or two?"

"He was no fun," she said.

"...you need to stop dating absolutely insane men who lock you up in their villa so you can recalibrate your sense of fun."

"Don't call me out like that," Jasmine said. "I'm young and living my life. It's the time to make mistakes! Anyway, I met him on my own mission. He seemed hot, fun, and helpful."

"I hated him on sight," Ana said.

"You only met him after I said he kidnapped me."

"I would've hated him regardless. I can't believe you didn't notice the sacrifices and his personality came from a landfill."

"Well, let's not talk about that because we might jinx the date I have tonight. I just wanted to make sure you remembered to call me when you come back so I can make sure you live your life and have fun."

"Good luck. You'll probably hypnotise him into giving you nine million dollars of real estate before the end of the night," Ana said. "...love you."

"Love you too," Jasmine chirped before she hung up.

Kol snuck up behind her but she already had whirled around to face him when she felt him within her vicinity.

He leaned over her shoulder to look at her phone. "Who was that, darling? You're terribly popular today."

"My best friend, Jasmine," she told him. "I always answer before the second ring in case she needs to be saved."

"Saved?" He raised a brow. "From what?"

"Her bad decisions."

He laughed and folded his hands behind his neck. "Perhaps, darling, you should change your name to Saint Ana. I'm quite sure someone would award you with it after saving so many lives."

"Do you think it would come with a mandatory break?" she wondered. "I want paid time off. I don't even get paid, you know?"

"Oh, that'll be impossible," he crooned. "You're too integral. They'd work you to the bone."

She pouted. "Thanks. I hate it."

He grinned and floated back towards the drawing room. Another animated movie played on the television screen, When Marnie Was There, something Kol had complained about rather half-heartedly.

A hint of a smile crossed her lips.

All remnants of the souls emissaries guided stayed with them in some way. She never expected she'd be glad that Kol would live instead of passing onto true peace and the next step of the afterlife. Ana wouldn't have to keep the simple memories of him enjoying children's animated films or his favourite meal as a constant reminder that he had existed.

Regardless, the newest recipe going up on her blog would be her versions of a lobster bisque, dirty rice, and a decadent New York cheesecake. The pages of her secret journal, too, would find the story of a new resident before she moved on.

She still had a life outside of the supernatural, after all, even if it had temporarily fallen behind, neglected due to her duties.

check out my tumblr delicateseraphs! i'll be posting excerpts (chapter 4 and 5), answering any questions, and i've also created a character page for anastasia if you wished to learn more about her.

anyway, i just wanted to make sure you understood our main character a little more... so let's do it through a meme.

she's a ten but will ignore you for any cat in the room. she's an eight but will feed you and make fun of you at the same time. she's a ten but knows nothing about wine, absolutely classless in the matter.