Heart of the Hunter

by Alex Foster

  They were in a dingy place, an abandoned garage, a bolt hole useful only for hiding his shells while he regrouped. Neither of his puppets cared about the dirt. Nicholas meanwhile looked at it with disgust. He hadn’t spent years locked in a tiny cell just to wallow in filth like common swine.

  The idea of returning to his body briefly flickered through his thoughts, but Nicholas didn’t want to sever his current connection either. Clark and Wood were close and once Desmond’s vehicle was ready he planned on leading another attack.

  Holman’s ability would not let him down again. He would burn the mage to a crisp if he needed to while generating a storm big enough to get him what he wanted.

  The power stirred deep in John’s chest, eager for use. Mages were not meant to conceal and avoid their powers, Nicholas knew, as The Circle had once thought. For a moment he savored the alien feel of another’s ability within his control, letting a breeze fill the garage. An old coffee can filled with screwdrivers and sockets sitting in the corner toppled over with the touch of wind.

  Holman pushed back against Nicholas’ mind and the telepath regarded him with contempt. All of the frustration he felt at letting Wood escape focused on the echo. Nicholas called his ability and set about wiping Holman completely clean. He started burning away everything, even basic brain functions. When Nicholas left again he would leave behind a completely dead shell.

  Did Holman think he was the first to try and fight Nicholas' ability? That he could overpower a telepath? Using John’s lips, Nicholas smiled.

  The remnant in his mind didn’t try avoiding his probing or lash out. Instead it reached past Nicholas and plunged for something deeper into the subconscious. All the way down to the tiny spark all mages possessed.

  The breeze turned into a forceful gust and Desmond gave a strangled cry and jumped back when the van’s door slammed shut.

  The body Nicholas occupied stumbled back into a set of shelves and fell to the floor. He wasn’t aware of ordering the body to move. His ability rose to his defense, overwhelming Holman’s mind and tearing through looking for the remnant. Memories that did not belong to him, hollow shades now, flashed by as he searched deep.

  Where? Nicholas poured his power into Holman, choking the remnant.

  Pain, a sudden flare of a feeling he hadn’t known in years, exploded in his—John’s—side. Shock and fear followed that foreign sensation. He felt wind, an element that had responded it his command just seconds before, battering against him and yanking the breath from his lungs.

  Something hard and sharp smacked into his face and drew blood.

  Using John’s hand, he touched his side and felt warm stickiness around a protruding object. A nail. John's voice called through his shredded mind: Freedom.

  Nicholas sensed more than heard the coffee can filled with tools slide across the floor. Holman’s ability focused a cone of wind down into it and lifted everything inside into the air. They twirled around and around, spinning in a blur, in a small tornado.

  Nicholas had just a second to realize that he was not in control of what was happening around him, the other man's ability no longer belonged to him.

  And then the tools were racing toward him. Ripping pain tore through his chest and face…and then Nicholas was trying to draw a desperate breath. He couldn’t and began to panic. His thoughts spun end over end, like he was in a free fall, and no longer could he feel the shell of John Holman around him. He couldn't feel anything.

  His eyes bugged with effort to breathe. The machines around him, unfazed by the events of a state away, slowly filled his lungs with air. The steady beeping assured him that his heart wasn’t really beating rapidly and it was only his imagination.

  Nicholas was back in his real body; Holman had somehow forced him out. With an inaudible snarl, he focused his ability and traveled. His tags, markers in the minds of those he had touched, flew past as he returned to New Jersey at the speed of thought.

  The mark he’d left behind in John Holman was gone. Latching onto the nearest shell, Nicholas violently inhabited Desmond. The familiar presence of his first victim settled around him. Sight returned and he saw the body of Holman slumped against the wall of the garage, the shell’s face and throat ruined by the sharp tools scattered around the body.

  The blowing wind was gone, as dead as the mage that had commanded it.

  For a long while Nicholas just stood looking down at him. Rage slowly building and working through his borrowed body. There was no spark of free will left inside Desmond — if there had been his current anger would have burned it to cinder in an instant.

  He had never been inside a puppet when it died before. Nicholas didn’t like it one bit — it reminded him too much of the weakness of feeling his own life slipping away after Clark shot him.

  Nicholas Kane called his ability, letting it fill him and added his rage to it. Desmond trembled with the sensation. He didn’t need a mage to get what he needed from Wood. There were plenty of people open to his power and he was going to use them all.

  He traveled…

  ✽✽✽

  A chainlink fence blocked off two large trash dumpsters behind the waffle house. Dakota fed enough of a charge into the metal to electrify it. A faint buzz and the scent of ozone filled the air. Two bugs crawling between holes in the fence popped and fell charred to the ground.

  A savage smile twisted Dakota’s face and she increased the power flow. Red-white arcs jumped from her fingertips and she lazily dragged her hand back and forth to keep from melting the thin wire. Her eyes scanned the sky; she wished a bird would land on the fence.

  Connected like she was to it gave her a sense of peace.

  Her power she understood and could control. Lately she felt pushed and led around by things she couldn’t easily identify. But the magic inside that her father and Circle instructors had worked so hard to help her master was still there and waiting for her call. She could still charge a cell phone or, the image sprang to her mind, tear through and destroy a building the size of a waffle house with equal measure.

  Dakota wouldn’t — she didn’t think — but it was nice to know she was still able.

  She sighed and felt tension flow down her arm and out through her fingers. A fried bird would be nice. Blackened feathers fluttering to the ground.

  "Dakota?"

  In a blink she spun with a hand extended—

  Ready to kill.

  —and stopped just short of blasting Callie.

  "Sorry." Dakota took a step back and tightened her hands into fists so she wouldn’t see them shake.

  "It’s okay," Callie said. "You’ve been running on high octane for several days now."

  She shot her a grin. "Yeah, you could say that. And it isn’t always as fun as you might think. So what are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be inside sucking face with your girlfriend and giving locals and truck drivers the show of their lives?"

  Color filled her face but she smiled regardless. "We all have rooms across the street; she took some food back to ours."

  "Oh."

  "I wanted to talk to you privately before joining her."

  She knows what I tried to do, Dakota thought. What I still want to do, and she regrets bringing me back. It wasn’t any easier when it was just her own voice inside her head because she quickly followed that with, But Doe Eyes probably couldn’t lie if her life depended on it. Healing me means something to Callie.

  She tried to back away. "Actually I need to get going. I have a stolen car to ditch."

  "You did good work out there, Dakota. I’m proud of you."

  Dakota stopped walking long enough to give her a hard stare, trying to figure out her angle. "Thanks, Kitten, but I’m working with a fair amount of self-preservation here. I didn’t need yet another Wood on my case."

  "I’m not just talking about Reina. I know about Baltimore. I know you’ve been trying to help Circle abductees."

  "More like running after shouting that I’m not going to kill
them." She gave a real laugh at that. It was funny. "Besides many of them don’t need any help. Turns out The Circle didn’t destroy every single person it touched after all."

  Callie leaned against the rear wall of the waffle house. For a long while she just stared up at the blue sky. There was something oddly comforting about being around Callie Wood at rest so Dakota came to a stop next to her and copied the pose. She once went years without bothering to look up and just sky watch. Clouds still seemed unreal to her at times.

  "Have you thought about a partner?" Callie asked suddenly. "There are plenty of former agents scattered around — this vendetta excluded — that would want to do some good."

  "Dixon once told me some unpleasant things about my father," Dakota answered after a moment. "He pointed out that I was best when I worked on my own. Daddy believes I either do it on my own or I don’t do it at all."

  If Callie caught the verb tense slip she didn’t correct her. "You did pretty well with Reina."

  "Yeah. That’s what I’ll do next. I’ll recruit Moran. You’d love me for that, I’m sure."

  Callie chuckled along with her. "You’re not deputizing my girlfriend, no. And that’s not exactly what I meant."

  "I know. Some of us are just meant to be alone."

  Callie turned to face her, one arm braced against the wall. "Doesn’t have to be that way."

  "The Pinball Wizard keeps trying to get me to be more involved with his little projects, but it isn’t for me. Not really. Archmages never stop playing politics and I don't have a stomach for that. I’ll help if he needs it, but … you know ... we’re not going to sit around talking about our feelings or anything."

  "Yeah."

  Callie suddenly seemed very close to her and Dakota felt claustrophobic. Escaping the alley sounded like a very good idea. "Listen, I—"

  "I’m glad you’re okay," Callie said.

  Huh?

  "Huh?"

  Callie reached out and touched Dakota’s temple and brushed hair caked with dried blood out of the way. "That looks nasty. Reina told me she was up with you all night. I’m glad you’re going to be okay."

  That strange feeling was prickling her skin again. Callie was standing close, touching her hair, and Dakota was fighting her primal instincts to prevent a repeat of the night before with a different girl. How messed up am I? She took her wrist and lowered the hand away from her face. "Thanks. That, ah, girl of yours has a good head on her shoulders. I would have drown if she hadn’t dragged me out of the water."

  Callie nodded and inched back. "Yes, she does."

  She was still holding Callie’s small but not fragile wrist. She had a sudden mental flash of kissing Callie and pressing her hard against the wall. Jesus H, I need to let her go before I make a bigger fool of myself!

  "One more day," Dakota said ignoring it, "and you two will be back on the road. I’m sure the biggest ball of twine waits for no woman."

  She gave a polite smile. "What about you? Where are you off to once this is over?"

  Dakota dropped her hand and stepped away. "Why? Afraid I’ll track you down again?"

  Annoyance flashed in Callie’s eyes but Dakota figured she still had goodwill built up from Doe Eyes because the other woman didn’t press it. "Actually I’m extending an offer that if you find yourself in New York when this is over you are welcome to look us up."

  "Your family would love that."

  Callie shrugged. "It’s a big city. We could just do something between the three of us. No one would have to know."

  Peter Paul and Mary, wouldn’t that be cozy? Dakota counted her fingers and let sparks crackle over them. "Listen, I promised Doe Eyes I would lose the car we stole so she wouldn’t go to prison and I'd have to make her my bitch so I really need to get going. Tell Dixon I’ll be ready when he gets back."

  She started down the alley, paused, and glanced over her shoulder. "I’ll hang around the motel until then but after this thing I’m not coming back with him. And I doubt I'll be anywhere near New York City. If I don’t see you again before I leave take care of yourself."

  "Oh. Okay. You too, Dakota."

  She left Callie standing there and hurried from the alley, fighting the urge to look back with every step.

  Chapter Ten

  …Nicholas was Riley Lewis, a middle school teacher on his way to buy coffee.

  Nicholas was Stewart Thompson, a plumber that was about to miss his last appointment for the day.

  Nicholas was Allicia Mcleary, a mother of three out for a late afternoon jog. She stopped in the middle of the road, face blank, waiting for the van she knew was coming to pick her up.

  Nicholas was Dave Brooke, an army vet living on the streets.

  Nicholas was…

  ✽✽✽

  Reina heard Callie come into their room over the spray of the shower. Ever since she told her about a phobia born from seeing Psycho as a kid, Callie made sure to cause a lot of noise when interrupting shower time.

  She smiled into the flowing water and called, "Come in!"

  Callie, already free of unneeded clothing, padded across the bathroom floor and peeked around the curtain. "Hey."

  "Hey." Reina scooted back in the narrow tub. "Get in here; you’re letting cold air in."

  The mage didn’t need a second invitation and climbed immediately in, closing the curtain behind her. Reina made a happy noise deep in her throat as Callie’s arms tightened around her waist. She bent down to even their height difference and kissed her.

  Callie was soft and yielding to her, parting her lips slightly. Away from the spray of hot water, Reina felt suddenly cold and shivered. Responding to that, Callie turned them and angled her head slightly, letting the water crest over and run between them.

  Reina had missed this. All the worry she had carried for the past twenty four hours ran off with the water and swirled at their feet. Callie sucked her bottom lip before pulling back to catch her breath. They kept their heads together and eyes closed.

  Callie pressed her back against the wet tiles; the weight and feel of her girlfriend against her was comforting and reassuring.

  "I don’t think I’m ever going to take hot water for granted again."

  Callie nuzzled against her collarbone and they stood like that for several minutes, letting the steam and mist whirl around them. "Me neither."

  "You didn’t go for a cold swim."

  "I didn’t really mean the water."

  Reina thought hard about what she was about to say. "We need to talk about something," she said at last. If she was going to do this, now was the time. Tomorrow could be too late.

  "Talking isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

  "I know." She drew her hand up Callie’s back, feeling vertebrae underneath her fingers. "And I want to, but there’s something first."

  Callie glanced around and humorously said, "You picked the strangest place for a breakup speech."

  "Not a breakup speech! Kind of the opposite, really."

  Hands firm on Reina’s hips, Callie pulled back and regarded her. "I know. I’m not worried."

  Reina smiled at that and blinked water from her lashes. "I know you’re in love with Dakota and I’m fine with it."

  Whatever Callie was expecting, Reina guessed that wasn’t it. She opened her mouth, held the pose, and then closed her jaw without making a sound.

  Reina pressed onward. "She feels the same, well, actually, I don’t think she knows how she feels, but I can tell. And it’s okay because you guys have history and you’re both mages … and I kind of like her too."

  Callie finally found her voice. "I love you. I’m not going anywhere."

  "I know that." Callie’s entire body was suddenly tense against her. Reina tightened her hold to keep the mage from bolting. "But I'm worried she's slipping away and if we don't do something we're going to lose her forever."

  Callie started to protest but Reina cut her off. "It’s true and you know it. She’s floundering and we need to do something ab
out that. I don't think she can last much longer on her own. The woman I saw last night was broken. We need her to know that she has a place with us if she wants it."

  For a long moment the only sound was the steady stream of water hitting the floor of the tub. The tension slowly drained away and Callie sighed. "This is crazy."

  "No, it’s not."

  "It isn’t supposed to work like that."

  "Says who?"

  "You … like her?" she said slowly.

  Reina nodded.

  "But she’s not easy to like."

  Reina let out a laugh that echoed in their small bathroom. "Well, maybe a little abrasive if you don't know her. Believe me, I know better than most the pitfalls we’re looking at here," she said, sobering. "I’ve seen Sandstone. But I think it could be okay if the three of us work at it."

  "We need … rules or something, right? I mean how would it work? You guys draw numbers for every other Tuesday through Thursday?"

  Reina pushed hair away from Callie’s face. "We could do that, or figure out something less mathematical. Number one rule though is honesty. There are no secrets between the three of us. Secrets are what break up things like this. We have to all be in agreement on that or it doesn’t happen."

  Callie nodded. "How are you calm about this? It’s like you have experience with this sort of thing or something."

  Reina shrugged against the slick tiles. "Well, what happened that summer can be a story for another shower."

  A look of realization spread over Callie’s face and Reina leaned down to kiss her again, taking unconcealed joy at wiping that expression away and replacing it with a different one.

  ✽✽✽

  The GPS in Dixon’s car guided him through Trenton. He hadn’t programmed a destination but midway up the Parkway it had activated itself and began giving him instructions where to find Ezekiel.

  Archmages, he thought with contempt. Every single one he'd ever known had taken pleasure in being far more clever than those around them.