by Alex Foster
Dakota killed the engine and collected her file folder, notebook, and bag of newspapers. The lot was empty and smelled faintly of diesel fumes. She didn’t pay the distant emergency sirens any mind as she walked to her room and unlocked the door.
The inside was basic and crappy. A burnt orange bedspread clashed loudly with the green floral wallpaper. A small desk shoved into the corner of the room was overflowing with newspaper scraps and half used bottles of paste. Adjacent to the crowded living space was a narrow bathroom. Her laundry, freshly washed in the sink, hung drying from towel racks and drawers.
Dakota set the file folder on the desk and picked up a pair of scissors. She kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the bed. Awareness that she’d only gotten a few hours of sleep scrunched behind the wheel of a car pressed a dull ache behind her eyes. No time for that, however.
She opened the reused grocery store bag and emptied it over the ugly bedspread. Sighing she began picking through the news. Entertainment and gossip took a backseat to obituaries. Washington's newspapers first and then New York's followed by Atlanta's...
Dakota felt the certainty of it as the ink stained her fingers black — today she was going to find another. It was a different kind of tiredness slowly working its way through her now. The rest of the news became unimportant as the sureness grew. She ripped the papers apart until she found a name she recognized in a tiny blurb below the full obits.
"Suicide victim identified as William Chase, former corporate officer of the IntraGenetics Institute. "
Power hummed over Dakota’s skin as she tried to heat the chill raising gooseflesh there. Resignedly she used the scissors to cut the story out. She’d only met him once in person but had talked to Chase over the phone several times while on assignment for The Circle. Her father had known him for almost ten years.
IntraGenetics was one of the companies The Circle had used to interact with the human world.
A cleaning lady had found him hanging from his own belt in a hotel room in Delaware, the state next door to the one Dakota now called home. No foul play was suspected. He left behind a grown son and an ex wife. William apparently got up one morning, wrote a note, then drove fifteen minutes from home to rent a room and hang himself.
An entire life summed up so neatly that after she cut the story out of the paper it was smaller than most grocery store coupons. Buy one suicide and get the second for free!
Dakota idly wondered if anyone had written a story like that about her. Probably not. She hadn’t been dead long enough to matter to anyone ... if such a person had existed. Holding the news story in one hand, Dakota couldn’t help but look at the headlines of the discarded papers. Stories of powers and mages filled the black and white print. Captions and tones were different based on the political slant the papers were geared toward, but one name and picture kept appearing over and over again. Some even embellished the story about how she went undercover to infiltrate a clandestine group experimenting on mages and preserving the masquerade. Tricking the hunters in the organization to gain their trust.
Dangerously close to memories and emotions Dakota didn’t like to think about, she sat staring at those pictures for a long time. Callie Wood occupied a place in her mind that she didn’t like to visit very often.
They weren’t really ... anything to each other now. Certainly not friends. At least they weren’t enemies — she didn’t think they were anyway. One enemy didn’t bring the other back to life. Right?
Dakota sighed and looked away from the stories about magic. She didn’t want to think about Callie. William Chase and the other obituaries cut and pasted in her scrapbook were important now.
And what a bang up job you are doing.
Her gaze fell on her cell phone resting on the nightstand. Years out of date it still got the job done. She could relate. There was someone else she wasn’t eager to deal with at the moment — although for completely different reasons than past lovers. Crawling across the bed, Dakota grabbed the phone and flipped it open.
His number wasn’t programmed in — he changed it too often for that — but halfway through typing his name the phone helpfully supplied the last few numbers and started to connect on its own.
Dakota bit back another sigh and put the phone to her ear. She glanced to the tv and almost expected it to snap on and start playing Poltergeist. This hotel room was not clean.
Archmage Ezekiel Homes answered on the third ring. "Hello, Agent Clark." There was no one else in the world that still called her that; certainly no one that would mean it with the respect he seemed to imply.
"I found another," she said. "Delaware Democrat. AD Chase was found dead."
The voice on the other side of the line was silent for several moments. She knew he was calling up the information and reading the article.
"I’m sorry for your loss," he said at last.
"Not like he was my godfather or anything," Dakota snapped.
"Still," he was frustratingly patient when all she wanted was to fight, "you knew him. And I’m sure it makes you sad that he’s gone."
You all have it coming.
"We need to start figuring out how these agents are being tracked down," Dakota said. "Chase got out of The Circle when I was still there."
"I’m reading his DMV file now. He wasn’t exactly careful after The Circle shut down. Used his real name for property holdings and bank accounts and everything."
A small thread of anger shot through her voice. "Yeah sloppy us for not thinking and anticipating that we would be hunted down like dogs once we went out of business."
"You stayed off the grid," he pointed out, still a calm voice on the other end of the line.
Dakota didn’t have an answer to that. "Are you sure one of your tagged assets didn't go rogue and do this?"
"Yes, I am. After the last one I did a ping on all agents working in the area. Plus hanging isn’t our style."
"Right."
"We are in Jersey," he said. "Meet up with us and we can figure out how to get ahead of this guy and put a stop to the killing."
"I’m not really interested in partnering up with anyone. Talking this way is fine."
"You’ve said that before, but the offer still stands. I just want to help you, Agent Clark."
Callie’s face stared up at her from the crumpled newspapers. "Better mages than you and your girlfriend have tried," Dakota said. "I’m beyond help right now."
"That’s not true."
"Yeah, well, I just wanted to give you the heads up on Chase. I’m going to stay in Baltimore for a few more days and then move on. I’ll head to Chase’s murder scene next and poke around. Maybe I’ll find something linking him to the other dead agents."
He was silent for a moment. "Dakota…"
"Have you told Dixon yet?" she asked, not wanting his pity on top of everything else. "Like I asked you to?"
"I haven’t been able to reach him," he said. "Dixon Wood has been working the public angle for so long since Callie published her article he hasn't wanted to return my calls."
Dakota didn’t bother trying to contain the anger this time. It rushed through her and gave her something familiar and comforting to feel. "Well that is pretty rich coming from you. Why don’t you just roll over and have your girlfriend make him come to you?"
"She doesn’t do that any longer."
"The hell she doesn't," Dakota snapped. "Dixon deserves to know there is someone out there hunting ex agents."
"Consular Dixon can handle himself," the voice on the line assured her. "Chances are he already knows about the murders and that is why he’s staying out of sight."
Dakota clicked her tongue. She didn’t like the idea of Dixon out there possibly with a target on his back and not knowing it. And it was made worse that her distant friend had a solid way of finding him but wouldn’t use it. His girlfriend didn’t want to use magic? Tough. They were born this way.
"I owe it to Callie to make sure he’s safe," Dakota admitted at
last. Each word was like a glass shard slicing through her skin. It made her feel awful to confess something like that.
He sighed. "I can find Callie. She’s close to you right now."
"Fine. Get a hold of Dixon that way."
"It might be good for you to talk to her," he said. "I know about what happened between you two. I can text you her location."
"No."
"But—"
"No." Dakota pushed to her feet and threw the crumpled up news stories in the trash. "I’ll call you if I find anything in Delaware." She snapped the phone closed before he could say another word.
Dakota stood alone in the empty motel room, looking down at her phone for a long while. Finally she tossed it on the bed and tried to ignore the sound of mocking laughter in her head.
Chapter Three
"Invisibility," Reina said at last.
From the passenger seat Callie looked over and smiled. "Really? I can think of several that would be better than that."
"No, I mean look at it. You could go anywhere without being seen." She waggled her eyebrows. "I could sneak into the ladies locker room."
"You can get in there anyway."
"Not while invisible — but okay, the men’s locker room then. I’m flexible."
Callie fought and failed to keep her grin from growing at Reina’s playful tone. "So there is no love for the power of healing? Your blood would be a living thing that could cure anything. You could cut yourself and get to watch your blood run across the table to jump back inside."
Reina pretended to think about that. "You don’t have any relatives that were in the arctic in the early 80s, do you?"
She’d seen that movie too. "Not that I know of, but the Wood family breeds like bunnies. You never know when another one we've never heard of is going to pop up. Or at least their head."
"I suppose healing might have its advantages too," Reina admitted.
"Might, huh?"
"Yeah, but I think it is a little too defensive of a power if I’m going to be a fearsome witch hunter."
Callie put her bare feet up on the dashboard and leaned back. "Oh you are?"
"Well, in this fantasy I bummed around for a while until your dad finally took pity and got me a job. ‘Can’t have my daughter marrying a loser after all.’" She did a rather unconvincing impersonation of Dixon Wood.
At the mention of her father, Callie briefly wondered again of Reina’s parents but thought better of saying anything. In her own time, Reina would tell her why she didn't seem to want to visit them. "This is true," she conceded. "So you want an offensive power ... oh, there was this one mage at The Circle that learned how to manipulate gravity and magnetism. You could create black holes."
Reina shook her head. "I don’t think I had the grades in physics for that."
Callie snapped her fingers. "Fire control. Always a classic, elementals are crowd pleasers, and I have a history with it too."
"I like it. Would I get a red leather costume to wear?"
Callie glanced at her pointedly, enjoying the faint color that came to her cheeks. "You absolutely would. Complete with bustier and heels."
"This fantasy has improved dramatically since I was a jobless bum."
Callie reached over and let a hand rest comfortably on Reina’s knee, fingers sliding over the seam of her pant leg. "Let’s see … what else? You’d have to be partnered with an experienced witch hunter while in the field — that’s how it worked."
"Mr. Wood could show me the ropes. I wouldn’t wear the costume with him," she added unnecessarily.
A laugh bubbled up. "Okay. Good to know. The bustier and heels can be for home and the occasional crime fighting on the weekends."
"As a firestarter my one weakness would probably be water," Reina continued to think aloud. "I guess Mr. Wood would have to handle all renegade mages on rainy days."
Something she couldn’t identify twinged deep inside Callie’s chest.
"You know what would be cool? Storm control. I could bring lightning down on the bad guys whenever I wanted, like a lady Zeus. Or just Zeus. I think he shape shifted into a woman once…"
Callie glanced out her window, reading the quickly passing signs advertising gas, food, and lodging. "Electrical control and manipulation is a real magic," she said. "It is part of elemental control, like fire, but it is very hard to master though. Very dangerous."
Reina took her gaze from the road long enough to shoot her a concerned look. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No. Why?"
"You got all weird. And your hand stopped rubbing my leg. I liked that."
Callie frowned at that and then gave a reassuring smile. "No, I’m not weird at all."
"Okay." Reina didn’t look wholly convinced though. They drove in silence for several minutes. Neither woman was in any hurry; Reina had planned to detour off the main route past Delaware. She'd allowed enough time if they wanted to slip south before New York and sightsee along the Atlantic. There were several inns along the shore her guide suggested for romantic getaways that earned a four roses out of five rating. "So was that pairing with experienced agents a real thing too?"
Callie made an affirmative noise. "That was how they taught magic hunting at The Circle. Three steps. You learned, you observed, you taught someone else. They usually tried to partner people up with other mages to make up for what the other lacked."
Reina nodded and seemed to consider something for a long moment. "You wouldn’t happen to know if there was much … fraternization between partners back then?"
Surprised, Callie blinked at that. "I’m not sure how many female agents there were to male agents in The Circle. I was only part of one cell."
Reina snapped her fingers once and gestured between them.
"Oh, right. I don’t know, sorry. Why?"
"I was just wondering. Seems like mages would naturally be attracted to each other and being a hunter probably made it hard to be part of the lifestyle. I can't imagine hunters are very welcomed in the general populace."
Callie stared at her. "I was joking about wanting you to have powers," she said. "You know that, right?"
"I know; I didn’t mean it like that. The opposite really. I was thinking about how relationships are like a balancing act — when you said that about Circle partners I wondered if it wouldn’t be true for other types of partnering as well.
"I believe sometimes people are … I don’t know … missing parts of themselves inside and find them in other people. Like puzzle pieces trying to fit together. It would be interesting to look back and see if Circle partnerships ever worked like that."
Callie thought for a moment. "You are going to make me say something really syrupy here about us, aren’t you?"
Reina winked. "We could talk about my red leather bustier instead."
"I’m good with that too."
✽✽✽
Nicholas Kane cast his mind into the wind and traveled.
The world was a dizzying rush around him, the soft murmur of voices filled his brain. He moved as quick as thought, existing in brief flashes within the minds of those that could hear him. At first Nicholas was directionless and had to trust his ability to carry him where he needed to go.
It had taken him a long time to regain his power, even in this limited fashion, and longer still to be able to lock onto the individual minds that buzzed differently than others. He could now track and target mages.
Here, in his domain, the world had no solid form and when his powers were passive was little more than a half-seen daydream for him. He had no visual reference to the outside world and could only depend on his gift to seek out a candidate close enough to Dakota Clark and Callie Wood.
It hadn’t let him down yet.
After The Circle hunter crippled him and forever hamstrung his power, Nicholas had had plenty of time to test and explore what she’d turned his once powerful ability into. He never had the chance to fully master his power in his first life but in this one he had a lev
el control no one ever suspected he would command.
And now he had a plan to restore himself to what he was. Grimly he laughed at Dakota Clark’s idea of a second chance — one she did not deserve. Callie Wood’s blood had restored her, as it had others, and it could restore him just as easily.
Nicholas’s focus slipped a little when he allowed himself to dwell on that thought. Her ability would restore his power to its full strength and along with the skills he had already mastered would make him unstoppable.
Nicholas planned to make every former Circle agent pay one by one.
Without flourish or impact he suddenly arrived at his destination. He slithered through the mage’s mind, masking his presence at first. The other man’s senses slowly came to Nicholas and he saw through eyes in need of glasses and felt the world through grimy unclean skin.
He was in a transient again. Beneath him in every way, but the perfect target for his ability. After his run in with Clark years ago Nicholas spent a great deal of time floating in a vacuum, able to feel his power around him but not able to touch it.
Once he figured out the key to focusing the ability again he was able to begin clawing his way back into the world. Even if it was only through the jagged and sometimes chemically altered senses of the mentally ill, at least he was able to exist in the physical world again.
It was his hatred for The Circle that made his gift seek out those also changed by its tests. The ability inside him offered them up as wonderful weapons to use in his campaign. By chance, while hunting for more minds to twist, he happened across Clark.
She was the reason for his condition and the focal point of his vengeance. Nicholas was a patient man and knew he had already outlasted The Circle — even if it took years he would make her pay. He would break her and drive her fully insane before finally imprisoning her inside her own mind, just like she had done to him.
The homeless man he existed as now was sitting on a small pull cart — a child’s toy he had painted and added shelves to in order to make it his most prized possession. In front of him was a flimsy paperback he read with great relish despite needing a prescription for nearsightedness.
