Heart of the Hunter

by Alex Foster

  Heart of the

  Hunter

  A triad hearts novella

  Chapter One

  She remembered the pain of rebirth.

  More than the way the magic had torn through her skull or the confusion of running from the people that raised and trained her. Even more than the betrayal learning her lover wasn’t who she thought she was, Dakota Clark remembered the pain that came afterward. Awareness had come back first, forcing her to leave behind that empty dark place, and then the pain hit.

  It seared through everything and as soon as her vocal cords learned how to work again she pressed her burned skull back into the soft dirt and screamed. Hands held her down, keeping her from thrashing around during the worst of it. In her daze, she thought it was Circle agents. That they had caught up with them and were about to kill Callie.

  Dakota wanted to live. She had to stop the witch hunters from hurting her.

  Her power hadn’t returned yet and neither had enough strength to put up a fight. The person on top made soothing sounds and tried to comfort her.

  Sight came back and she saw a familiar face hovering over hers. Her stomach flipped in response.

  The pain faded as memories started to return — the hunters were gone, some dead by her hand, and Callie Wood was safe. They escaped The Circle compound and the evidence was safe.

  They were both safe. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy the fact it was over. No more witch hunting for her and she had Callie.

  Except she didn't. Not then and not now. Memories kept returning and something buried deep inside, something dark, responded and rushed forward.

  I see you, Dakota. All alone.

  She screamed again.

  ✽✽✽

  Dakota came awake with a start and bumped her knee on the car’s steering column. She mumbled a curse and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. The haze of sleep and the familiar nightmare were quickly fading as she blinked and took stock of her surroundings.

  The sun had risen since she fell asleep and early morning commuters were starting to fill the streets of Baltimore. Across from the parking lot she’d pulled in several hours ago she could see joggers running through Patterson Park, earbud cords swinging wildly as they trotted along.

  Dakota glanced at the dashboard clock, worried that she was too late, and breathed a sigh of relief. If her target stuck to his normal routine then she was right on time. She gulped down cold bitter coffee from her thermos and grabbed the photo paperclipped to a file folder sitting open on the passenger seat.

  She popped the sedan’s door, threw her shoes down on the pavement, and stepped into them as she climbed out of the car. Joints popped as she stretched. It had been a while since she last did this sort of stakeout and had almost forgotten how unpleasant they felt first thing in the morning.

  Running a hand back through her hair, she started across the street. Her hair was shorter than when she was with The Circle and cut sharp along her collar — the result of nights of bad dreams and self-inflicted fried ends — and her clothes hung loose because she kept forgetting to eat.

  Mania, Daddy would have said, was fine as long as you managed it.

  Dakota jaywalked just a little faster and turned her thoughts away from her dead father. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to dwell on details of the past few years. This was her second chance, things were different now. The world was different. And that was what she had to focus on.

  Daddy would want it that way and be proud. A sense of happiness filled her at that thought only to feel it squashed a moment later by another errant voice: No he wouldn’t. He was never proud of you and died cursing you because you betrayed The Circle for a fucking girl.

  Hope she was a good screw, princess.

  "Shut up," she muttered, stepping onto the sidewalk and heading to the bus stop. Her mouth felt like it was mopped dry by a used dishrag.

  Thankfully the voice listened and quieted as she approached the loose scattering of people waiting for their morning ride. Even though the stop was close to a school, there were only a few people around her target. She wanted to do this out in the open so she wouldn’t scare him but still needed privacy given the topic of conversation.

  Dakota glanced down at the photo of a slim twenty-five year old with patchy facial hair. She wasn’t sure what Miles Addison's personal politics were, but with the way the world was now it really wasn’t a good idea to start broadcasting someone on the street was a mage.

  Some people liked the attention that brought them and puffed up their chests when the little old ladies across from them on the bus suddenly grew fearful as though wondering if they were about to see someone sprout wings and fly.

  Dakota was like that once — hell, she was still like that as a couple of non mage bars here in good old Baltimore could attest to — but she understood not wanting the bad with the good. She could fight back if she had to, but Miles with his underdeveloped abilities could not.

  I love your sense of irony picking this case, princess.

  And there was a little yellow strip of paper tucked in the file folder in her car that pretty much confirmed for her that Miles would not like any attention for being different. It was the reason she picked him and not for his weak ability to fight back. She had retrieved it from his trash not long after she started trailing him. Her Circle instincts were still good — you were never the hunter you could have been — and it confirmed he was the person her two missions should start with. She had a message to pass on to him, from one mage to another, but also needed his help in a more personal cause.

  Scrawled on the torn piece of legal paper was an address and the phrase "We were taken too".

  Following him the next night she found a small group of people waiting at the address they provided. The meeting was short but Miles left looking tearful and relieved. Dakota hadn’t recognized any of the group’s members, but she was sure they were probably in the files her benefactor kept in his brownstone.

  Just some of those The Circle had kidnapped and experimented on over the years.

  She hadn't been involved with Miles’ disappearance, but the notes from his case agent in the file were extensive. Chances were she knew more about his abduction than he would ever remember.

  Dakota tucked his picture into a back pocket as she came to a stop next to him. Miles Addison was gangly, a little nerdy, and wrapped in a long coat even though it was seasonably warm. He wore a backpack over one shoulder and kept readjusting it in a nervous habit. She knew where he lived, worked, his favorite neighborhood bar, and that he did not like to be touched and hadn’t had a steady girlfriend since The Circle took him.

  Dakota felt a sudden rush of anxiety. For the past couple of days, she’d thought about how this conversation would go — the first of many, she hoped. But now she hesitated, unsure if she wanted to go through with this. The Circle, Dakota's version of it anyway, was effectively gone and part of her just wanted its sins to stay out of sight. She wasn’t responsible for this kid. If he couldn’t deal then it should be his problem and not hers.

  Dakota almost turned around. But this was her second chance. Things were different now and this was something she had to do and see to the end if she wanted the opportunity to count for something. She knew what it was like to have memories taken away until only a dull echo remained. Maddeningly out of reach.

  "Excuse me," she said.

  Miles glanced at her.

  "I, um, you don’t know me but I used to work for a group that did experiments…"

  His eyes suddenly went wide with recognition. Miles Addison had probably feared his entire adult life something like this would happen one day. A stranger would walk up, lay on hands, and make him forget everything. Or
worse make him disappear all together.

  Before she could say anything else, he turned on his heel and took off running.

  "Wait!" Dakota started after him.

  Miles dashed into traffic without looking. Horns blared and morning commuters slammed on their brakes to keep from hitting him. He didn’t stop and aimed for a bike path that ran deeper into the park.

  Magic crackled over her fingers as Dakota ran after him. Red and white sparks that jumped uncontrolled from her fingertips. The desire to hamstring him felt like a physical hunger and sent a thrill through her. It would feel so good to stop the little prat. Didn’t he know she was trying to be a good person and didn't need that sort of temptation?

  "I just want to talk to you," she called. "Please stop."

  If Miles even heard her it wasn’t enough to make him slow. Running from the embodiment of every fear, real and imagined, he’d had for the past several years Miles was starting to put distance between them.

  A couple of morning joggers and cyclists turned to look at the scrawny kid running with a yelling blonde chasing after, but no one tried to intervene. God bless modern society.

  Muscles still stiff from a night spent in the driver’s seat of a car shot pins and needles through her legs as she struggled to keep up.

  Some second chance. This is the sum of your life, princess. Scared victims.

  "Shut up!" Dakota wasn’t even aware she said that out loud until Miles glanced back in surprise at the venom of her tone.

  He swerved suddenly and cut across a playground to another bike path that would take him back around to where they entered the park. Dakota tried to follow but her shoes slipped on the soft ground and she fell face first into the dirt. Her chin hit hard and forced her teeth together with a click. She slid to a stop and glanced up in time to see Miles hopelessly out of reach.

  She lay there for a moment, tasting dirt in her mouth and feeling dew seeping into her jeans, before finally climbing to her feet and starting back to the car. Dakota walked slowly and didn’t pay any attention to the strange looks that were thrown her way.

  Miles was long gone, she knew. He wouldn’t go to work today and might leave the city. It was possible he would even tip off the entire support group of Circle abductees. If she wanted to pick up his trail she would have to do it soon.

  Or just give up this entire ‘mission’, the voice whispered. What did you plan on doing? Begging for forgiveness?

  Dakota walked along the side street to the nearest intersection to cross at the light, mumbling to herself the whole way. Just another crazy that people pointedly didn’t walk next to or look at too long.

  Chapter Two

  Callie Wood looked at the clothes stacked on the bed. "We’ll only be on the road a couple of days."

  "I know." Reina opened a duffel bag and began filling it. "But I believe in being prepared."

  The smaller woman picked up a bag of apple slices and held it up. "Including preventing starvation?"

  Reina smiled and plucked the bag from her hand. She tossed it into the open pack. "Nourishment is the most important part of any road trip."

  "Mmm. I thought that was a car?"

  "Well." She zipped the duffel and clutched it dramatically to her chest. "It is my car and my food so there."

  Callie tried to give her a stern look before failing and softening. She turned and began zipping her own duffel — notably smaller than Reina’s. "It’s not too late, you know?" she said. "We can switch plans. You don’t have to spend our entire vacation in New York.

  "We could go to Austin."

  Callie heard Reina pause for a moment. "Nah," she said. "I prefer your family. Mine is ... not as good as yours. Plus between my nosy mother and brother we wouldn't have any time to ourselves."

  "Okay." Callie focused on her bag for a moment, idly tracing a white knot embroidered into the strap for decoration. She didn’t want to get into an old argument. "Maybe Christmas?"

  "Yeah sure." Reina hefted her bags. "Ready?"

  Callie nodded and slung her duffel over a shoulder. She took Reina’s smaller tote from her and together they left the small apartment they shared and took the stairs down to the ground floor.

  Outside the Georgetown neighborhood was quiet and mostly deserted. Callie enjoyed when it was like this. It was peaceful most of the time but if mages entered the news cycle again fellow journalists always set up camp outside her door. She had never intended to become the face of the magical community when she wrote her expose but even now people thought she was an expert on the topic whenever someone with powers did something wrong.

  Callie was hoping for nothing but peace and quiet on this vacation. No mage related stress.

  Their road schedule — because you needed a schedule according to Reina — took them leisurely up the coast before finally arriving in New York City for a long weekend. On the way she had hoped to spend time in DC with her father but he was too busy with work for guests, at least for a couple of weeks.

  Publicly the congressional investigation into what and when the government knew about people with magic was ongoing. But privately she knew there were people like her father working to help integrate mages and regular humans that were exposed by her reporting.

  The empty peacefulness of Georgetown settled over her again.

  Immediately after her story was published there were interviews and calls from news agencies around the world. Plus visits from government representatives and former Circle agents. The latter of the two she assured she wouldn’t expose even if she knew the full details of their actions over the years. She didn't want to endanger any lives — just give the public the truth.

  Reina opened her compact SUV's rear hatch and started loading their bags. Over the past year plus she had stayed by Callie’s side and suffered through all the interviews, wonderment, and scorn from the public. When they returned to a semi private existence, Callie had worried some of the anti-mage groups that had sprung up around the nation would recruit in Georgetown and possibly even target Reina.

  She wouldn’t have blamed her if she hadn’t wanted to stay. It was a lot to take in — a whole new world — and potentially dangerous.

  Reina took Callie’s bag and tucked it next to hers in the back, nudging them to make sure they wouldn’t jostle when she was driving. "Okay, I think we should—"

  On impulse Callie stepped forward and kissed her. She felt the surprise go through the other woman before she relaxed against her. It was warm and familiar and Callie felt the happiness of being with her flutter in her belly.

  "What was that for?" Reina asked.

  "I’m just … content," she said. "This trip is exactly what I need. Peace, quiet, and you sound heavenly to me."

  Reina slipped her arms around Callie’s waist and held on tight. "Good, because I don’t think you have to worry about any unwanted excitement this time."

  ✽✽✽

  The first time Dakota visited the bookstore its owner had looked at her strangely. Not many people came in to buy newspapers, she figured. Or at least not a dozen at a time. She bought a local edition and one from every major city the bookstore carried. From as close as Washington DC and as far away as Florida. In her car, pasted in a notebook, were clippings she downloaded from smaller papers she found online.

  The Internet wasn’t always available with her life such as it was now so she had decided to start paying visits to bookstores.

  Daddy would approve, she thought. Her investigative skills were improving from her time spent with The Circle.

  Presently the shop owner, an overweight middle aged man with stubble on his neck folds, glanced at Dakota’s grass stained clothes as he rung up her collection of newspapers. "Say, what do you do with all these every day?" he asked. It was the first thing not required by mere social nicety he’d said to her since she started coming in as part of her routine.

  Dakota glanced up in surprise. "What?"

  "Well, I mean, aren’t all the stories the same?
" He dumped her purchases into a reused plastic grocery store bag.

  "I like the crossword puzzles," she lied and threw money on the counter.

  Leaving the bookstore she started back to her car, grumbling all the way. Last thing she needed was someone asking questions and getting into her business. The headline on one of the papers sticking out of the bag was about a prominent celebrity that had come out of the closet as being a mage.

  That’s right, Dakota, her father’s voice whispered. They all know about you. Sloppy, Dakota. You shouldn’t have caused that scene in the park.

  She stopped at her car and leaned against the hood for a moment before continuing. Using her thumbs, she touched each fingertip on both hands and counted them over and over until the repetitive action relaxed her. It was just paranoia and nothing more. She was fine.

  When going through her daily news reports, Dakota tried to stay away from the stories and editorials about mages in the world. It was just something she couldn’t deal with right now. There were too many Addisons that she had to deal with first.

  Opening the car and throwing the sack of newspapers onto the passenger side floor, Dakota dropped behind the wheel and turned the ignition. After the disastrous meeting this morning she had to figure out a new plan. She stole a glance at the file folder on the seat next to her. Maybe she should just find another Circle victim and move on.

  Maybe you should just move on all together? What are you hoping to prove, Dakota? Are you some sort of social worker for emotionally abused mages now? Try helping yourself first.

  "I am," she answered the voice.

  Dakota glanced in the rearview mirror and felt a fresh stab of worry. Maybe she should start visiting another bookstore?

  Fifteen minutes later she pulled into the parking lot of the run down motel that served as her home now. Buried deep in the less than savory part of town, the motor lodge offered monthly down to hourly rates. She paid cash for the room and kept to herself.