Hunted (Talented Saga # 3)

by Davis, Sophie

  “You have no clue of the sacrifices he’s made for me, of how much he’s been there for me when I needed him.”

  “I know my son pretty well. I have a pretty good idea. Just make sure you come through this alive. Erik doesn’t deserve to lose another person he loves,” he whispered softly. Then he hugged me tightly before returning to the living room.

  I watched him for several minutes. In twenty years, Erik would look just like him. He’d be graying around the temples, wrinkling around the eyes. Would he, too, deeply regret the decisions he’d made in his life? Would I be one of those decisions? Would he hate me for what I’d done to him and his family? At the very least, I had to make sure he got the option.

  Frederick and I had agreed that I would sleep in Frederick’s room again, so I wouldn’t wake Alex when we left. That night, I slept little. I’d made a decision and I wasn’t about to let Frederick or anyone else talk me out of it. Without Alex, I could take more chances and if my plan worked, I could reach Crane faster than if I waited for Frederick to wake.

  Once Frederick’s light snores filled the bedroom, I crawled from the mattress, being especially careful not to jostle the springs more than necessary. I crept from the room and made my way to Alex’s. When I opened the door, a thin beam of light illuminated Alex’s small features and my heart ached for him. I crossed the small space and kissed him softly on the top of his blonde head. He stirred slightly, settling deeper into his pillow.

  “Be brave, Alex,” I whispered. “I’ll be back for you.”

  Then I grabbed the bag that I’d packed while he was getting ready for bed. If I rationed, the food that I’d taken from Adam’s pantry would last me several days. There was only one set of clothes and one pair of shoes in the bag. That was all I would need.

  On tiptoes, I silently walked through the main section of Frederick’s house and slid through the backdoor. The night air was warm and thick with humidity. I quickly undressed, placing my garments in the pack before refastening the straps over my shoulders. The material was rough against the bare skin of my back, but soon it wouldn’t matter. I closed my eyes and titled my head toward the silver crescent moon. I cleared my mind of all thoughts except one. I clung to that concept and concentrated all my energy towards achieving my goal.

  At first, nothing happened, save sweat beading across my hairline and underneath my arms and I panicked slightly. This had to work. I concentrated harder.

  Seconds later, I knew my efforts were about to be rewarded. The shaking started in my legs, making its way up the length of my body. My stomach muscles quivered violently and I became nauseous, causing me to double over. The tendons in my arms twisted as they broke and reattached around my morphing bones. The transformation was uncomfortable, but not nearly as painful as it had been the night before. The whole process transpired in under a minute. But unlike the previous evening, I hadn’t turned into the small wolf. I’d focused on the bird form that I’d witnessed Henri take so many times.

  Tentatively, I raised my arms, now hulking black wings, and flapped them several times. My talons rose several inches off the ground before I toppled forward and landed on my chest, my wings spread wide. Focus, Talia. This time, when I lifted my wings, I concentrated on the feel of the air resisting my ascent and used that to rise higher and higher until Frederick’s house was nothing more than a speck.

  I wasn’t entirely sure where I was going, but knew I needed to head west. The pack bobbed against my back as I soared over homes and trees alike. The freedom was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and I considered never landing back on solid ground. Up here, I had no problems. Up here, I was truly alone and safe and free.

  I flew through the night, using the stars to guide me. Hours passed just as quickly as the scenery beneath me. Bright orange rays broke the horizon as my wings began to fatigue. I dove back to the ground. The exhilarating feel of the air rushing against my feathers thrilled me. I coasted at a lower altitude until I spotted a densely packed cluster of trees. I dove lower and wound my way through the branches and leaves scouting for the safest place to land.

  After circling several times, I determined that the forest was devoid of human occupation. Exhausted, I landed between two trees, my talons sinking into the soft earth. It took me several moments, but eventually I was able to force my wings back to arms and then the rest of my body followed suit. I lay panting slightly on the damp grass until I could muster the energy to sit up. Hastily, I unhooked my backpack and pulled on the bed clothes that I shed hours early. Next, I found the communicator Erik had given me and powered it on.

  The screen lit up almost instantly. A tiny hourglass turned over and over as the device tried to locate my position. Latitude and longitude coordinates appeared not long thereafter, followed by the words “Gunnison National Forest, Colorado.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I had made it. I was in Coalition territory. I was giddy with my accomplishment and even the lackluster selection of jerky and stale nuts for breakfast didn’t dampen my spirits. After I’d replenished the calories I’d burned on my flight, I rested against the rough bark of the closest tree. I was still tired, but before I slept, I needed to recall those long forgotten memories of Crane’s cottage.

  With a tremendous amount of effort, I turned my Talents inward and searched my mind. In the courtroom, Penny had showed me my parents standing outside a cottage talking to Ian Crane. The sound of waves crashing against rock had been in the background. I’d seen the images through Penny’s eyes and that was how I recalled the scene now. I saw my four-year-old self with my head buried in my father’s shoulder. I could feel the tears coming, but I forced them back. Now was not the time to be sentimental.

  I tried to turn the images into real memories but failed. I pounded the ground with my fists in frustration. The amount of times that I’d delved into other people’s minds and extracted private, sometimes even painful memories, and now, when it actually counted, I was unable to perform the intrusion on myself.

  I opened my eyes and began scolding my inability. Failure was not an option. I closed my eyes again and focused on a different memory, a more recent one, the one where Erik held me in the Underground before we’d parted ways. I recalled the tenderness in his eyes, the love he’d so openly expressed. The mental connection that was more intimate and complete than any physical connection ever could be. Then my mind clouded over with Alex’s visions of Erik, bleeding and bruised, chained to a chair while Mac screamed and beat him nearly unconscious.

  Erik needed me. Since we’d met, our relationship had been lopsided. He’d been the strong one, the one who always came to my rescue. I had leaned on him, depended on him so much without reciprocating. Worse, he’d never expected me to. I’d been selfish, taking everything he had to give, providing nothing but trouble in return. Now, he needed me, and I was letting him down.

  Spurred on by the thought of Erik being tortured further every day that I wasted, I dove back in to my own memories. I let go of the last vestiges of control and succumbed to my powers. The same scene materialized in my consciousness, except this time, I wasn’t witnessing it through Penny’s eyes. This time, I was in my own head, my own four-year old head. I could feel my father’s arms around my waist. I could hear my mother, my father, and Crane talking as I shyly hid my face. I drowned out the sounds of their voices and concentrated on the area surrounding the cottage.

  The trees melted before my eyes and I was no longer sitting on my father’s hip. Now I was running across a beach, soft sand wedging its way between my tiny toes. I giggled as the white foam of a broken wave chased me back from the water’s edge. The hem of my ruffled purple dress was damp and grains of sand latched on to the fabric when my feet kicked it up. A soft breeze blew my curls across my sweaty face, plastering the strands to my forehead. My mother’s voice, carried by the wind, called me back in the direction I’d just come from.

  I turned, a huge smile lifting my chubby cheeks when I saw her perched on a lar
ge rock with her arms open. I sped towards her as fast as my small feet would carry me. When I was still several yards from her, I tripped, my face landing in the soft sand. I expected to see my mother when I lifted my head, but the scene had changed again.

  Now I was lying on a worn, brown leather couch across from a fireplace. My father’s dark blue eyes were staring back at me. His smile was warm and his hand moved up and down my back. I smiled and rubbed my eyes with one fist.

  “Daddy,” I whispered.

  “Hi, baby. It’s time to go,” he whispered back.

  I lifted my small arms and wrapped them around his neck. He carried me through the front door of the cottage. A hover car ambled quietly in the gravel drive. My father carried me to where my mother already sat in the backseat. He placed me on the seat next to her before climbing in. I wiggled my way into his lap and pressed my nose against the cool glass of the window. I watched the cottage and the surrounding trees grow smaller as the car rose into the sky. I could see the ocean once we’d cleared the treetops.

  “Sit back, baby,” my father said, pulling me away from the window and pressing my back against his chest, resting his chin on my shoulder.

  Tears leaked from beneath my closed lids. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. I was no longer in the hover car with my parents. I was back in the forest in Colorado, alone. I fumbled with the communicator and pulled up a map of California. The cottage was on the ocean, which meant it had to be on the west coast. I searched for pockets of trees that overlooked bluffs to pinpoint its exact location. I found what I was looking for seconds later. If I left now, I could cover the distance by nightfall, but as I stood on shaky legs and started repacking my bag, I knew I lacked the strength to make the journey without rest.

  I warred with the idea of attempting the trip anyway, but miraculously, common sense won out. I spread out the blanket I’d brought on the ground and settled in. Just a couple more hours, I promised myself.

  When I woke, my back ached and I was so thirsty, I nearly choked when I tried to swallow. I greedily guzzled an entire bottle of water from my bag. The sun was still peeking through the leaves overhead, so I took the time to eat a handful more nuts and some crumbly cheese. Then I drank a second bottle of water in its entirety before stripping off my clothes and packing my sparse belongings.

  This time, the transformation was nearly instantaneous. A strong tingling sensation spread through my limbs as I again became the bird. I took off, climbing higher until I was above the forest. I flew toward the now setting sun, using the rays to guide me west. I thought only of Erik and the safe feeling his arms around me invoked. There was no way the night in the Underground would be the last we spent together. No matter what happened when I landed at the cottage, I would be ready. Throwing myself at the mercy of the man who’d murdered my parents was despicable, but letting Erik suffer any longer was worse. He’d sacrificed so much for me. This was the least I could do.

  I flew long after the moon was high in the sky and the stars twinkled brightly. I kept my bird eyes focused on the passing landscape below me. Sometime just before sunrise, the Pacific Ocean came into view. I flew out over the water and dove down until my belly skimmed the warm water. Then I climbed back over the bluffs and circled low, searching for the cottage. Too many miles to count later, I found it. I soared past and then double-backed to make sure I hadn’t imagined the structure.

  Even after I’d seen the images in my head, part of me hadn’t been totally convinced they were real. Now there was no denying the fact. I took several more passes, flying lower each time. I assessed the security; it was intense. Men ringed the perimeter of the small forest and several more stood guard closer to the house.

  I landed several miles from the edge of the trees and quickly morphed back to my human form. I dressed in the jeans and plain white tank top I’d packed, tying my tennis shoes securely to my feet. I took a deep breath, stealing my nerves for what might prove to be a death march. With the level of security in place, I had no choice but to surrender to the first guard I encountered, and I hoped that would prevent me getting shot again.

  On account of my heightened eyesight, I saw the guard before he saw me. I shuffled my feet to make enough noise to draw attention to myself.

  “Halt!” the guard shouted at me.

  My pulse quickened as he pointed his enormous rifle in my direction. I raised my hands in surrender, my eyes trained on the barrel of his gun. The scars on my back ached at the memory of bullets from a gun just like the one the guard had ripping through my skin. I stood frozen in place, waiting for the man to close the distance between us.

  “This is private property,” he declared as he drew near. “I suggest you turn around and go back the way you came.”

  “I’m T-t-t-tail Lyons,” I stuttered, still focusing on his weapon.

  “Excuse me?” he replied, his eyes disbelieving, like he hadn’t heard me correctly.

  I cleared my throat and spoke in a clear, confident voice. “I am Talia Lyons.”

  The guard’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Down on your knees,” he ordered.

  Without tearing my gaze away, I sank obediently to my knees. The guard’s finger jumped against the trigger and I recoiled, fearing that he might accidently pull it. With his free hand, the guard reached for a communication device at his belt.

  “We have a situation out here,” he spoke rapidly into the mouth piece as he depressed a button on the side.

  “What’s wrong ?” a voice crackled from the other end.

  “I have a girl who says she’s Talia Lyons out here,” the guard responded. He waited for a reply that didn’t come right away.

  “What’s she look like?” a different voice demanded finally.

  The guard looked at me uncertainly, then inched closer, looking uneasy for the first time.

  “Small. Curly brown hair. Purple eyes,” he answered.

  “Bring her up here and be careful. She’s extremely dangerous,” the voice ordered.

  “Affirmative,” the guard replied, refastening the device to his belt. “On your feet,” he demanded of me.

  I slowly rose, keeping my hands visible so that I wouldn’t provoke him. He grabbed one of my arms and twisted it painfully behind my back. I winced, but didn’t make any audible noise. He urged me forward while keeping my arm pinned behind me. The guard pushed me through the woods with the barrel of his weapon.

  A short distance into the forest, several other guards materialized and fell in step with us. One grabbed my other arm, painfully digging his fingers into my bicep. I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes forward. I had to swallow the overwhelming urge to attack. It went against every fiber of my being to submit to their dominance. Thoughts of Erik, the reason I’d come here in the first place, were the only thing that kept my temper in check.

  The trees became thinner and the dirt floor of the forest gave way to a gravel drive that I recognized. Several more heavily armed men stood blocking the entrance to the cottage. The man holding my twisted arm jammed the butt of his gun harshly into my kidney. White hot pain shot through my side as I stumbled forward, barely catching myself before I fell to the ground. I whirled around to face him, rage overtaking me, and I readied my muscles to attack, not caring that I was seriously outnumbered.

  I lunged for the guard. We collided with the ground, me on top. I ripped the gun from his hands and threw it at the man closest to us. When I stared down into his terrified eyes, I lost it. I channeled all my fear, rage, and pain into each punch. The guard tried to raise his hands to protect his face, and when he couldn’t, he tried to throw me off of him.

  I had gotten in four or five good shots before numerous sets of hands pulled me off of the man. I used my abilities to force the men touching me to let go, but soon learned the effort was pointless. Every time one set of hands released me, another took its place. Finally, someone kicked the back of my knees, causing me to fall to the ground. Something heavy hit me between my shoulder b
lades and suddenly, I was face down in the gravel with a swarm of gun barrels pointed at my head.

  Great plan, Talia, I thought. Way not to provoke them.

  “Talia Lyons,” a man’s voice called. I was afraid to raise my head to look at the speaker. “How does such a small girl cause so much trouble?” the voice continued. I said nothing. “An entire country is looking for you and here you are.”

  “I want to talk to Crane,” I snapped, my voice muffled by the ground.

  “President Crane isn’t here, so you’ll have to deal with me,” the man said. “Get her on her feet,” he added to the guards.

  Two men grabbed me under my arms and hauled me to my feet. Gravel was embedded in my cheek and I had to resist the urge to wipe it off. The men turned me until I was facing a tall, well-built man in his late twenties. He had brown hair, messily styled, and piercing eyes. The look of open hostility he wore sent a shiver skittering down my spine.

  “I thought Crane wanted me alive,” I said, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

  “He does,” the man confirmed. “But for the life of me, I don’t know why. You have done nothing but cause trouble for our people.”

  Personally, I thought that the characterization was a little unfair. He made it sound as though I single-handedly waged a war against the Coalition.

  “Lucky for you, Ian has a certain fondness where you’re considered,” the man continued. I didn’t like the way that he said fondness. I

  t made me want to take a shower. “Take her inside, to the cage.”

  Cage? I certainly didn’t like the sound of that.

  My guards pulled me forward. They were so much taller than I was and my feet barely touched the ground as they dragged me to the front door of the cottage. Once inside, I didn’t have time to take in the surroundings. They practically carried me towards a hole in the center of the room. Oh, my god, they are going to drop me down there, I thought frantically. I started to struggle. When I couldn’t escape their grip, I used my abilities to force them to release me. But as soon as they dropped me, strong arms circled me from behind.