Hunter: Faction 10: The Isa Fae Collection

by Angela Fristoe

  After the daily trainings had finished, they would set out again, searching for the edge of the woods. Thora was convinced they had been going in circles despite never making a turn. Garrett’s denials that they’d never get out had sounded weaker each day.

  And then two days ago, they woke to darkness. During the night, the trees had encircled them so tightly their leaves and branches blanketed the top of the dome. As if sensing the two people were awake, the trees shuddered in delight, and the sharp rustling of their leaves along the surface of the dome left Thora quaking in fear. Garrett told her they must wait for the trees to let them go. So they'd waited.

  The lack of movement allowed the devastation of her sister and mother’s death to sweep over her, and for the first time in weeks, she let herself wallow in the depths of her loss. Britta, her mother, Freddie. She had no one left. They were all gone. If she had stayed home, perhaps none of it would have happened. She would have been there to protect Britta. Freddie would have been there, too.

  Guilt and sorrow left her curled on the ground, sobbing. Garrett tried reassuring her, and, initially, she felt better, but he’d eventually draw away after a few minutes and the searing pain in her chest returned. That was when she realized that he'd used a charm on her those days they'd been moving through the woods. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her father had often told her that the Fae loved to use their magic.

  It had been almost three nights under the dome, and yet the woods had not tired of waiting for them. If anything, Thora thought the trees pressed closer.

  That evening, Thora sat on the log across from the raging fire pit and watched as Garrett tossed the leftover pieces of rabbit in to the flames. He'd built it the night before when the temperatures cooled. She had never experienced such cold before, and had worried that the dome over that section of the faction had perhaps fallen, but he assured her the dome was secure. It was the forest draining the heat. Perhaps another game the trees were playing.

  Across from her, Garrett prodded the burning logs, sending sparks flying through the air, flickering as they were gently extinguished by the dampness that chilled the evening. The orange light played across his face, highlighting the high cheekbones and strong jaw. His dark features were common of Fae in the Neraida faction. Just as her father’s had been. Their physical appearance made it easy for them to blend in to the Earthly mirror of their realm, while still giving them an ethereal beauty that attracted humans to them. Her mother had called their mirror Greece, though her father would often argue and say it was really the foot of Olympus and they were the gods.

  Thora never understood what he meant, but her mother would scoff and proclaim the Fae as far from the gods as the goats. That would set Britta off in a round of giggles as she attempted to mimic a Fae goat. Their father would join in, and the two of them would be bleating and hopping around on all fours until, finally, their mother would break in to her snorting laugh. That would set all of them off again.

  The echoes of Thora’s memories faded until all that remained was the crackling of the fire.

  How could everything have changed so quickly? How could this be what her life was meant to be?

  “Do you find pleasure in torturing yourself?” Garrett asked, startling her in to realizing that she'd been sitting there staring at him.

  “No,” she denied, though she saw the truth to his words. “I was merely pondering my circumstances.”

  “No,” he said, lifting his eyebrows. “You were wondering what would have happened if…”

  “If what?”

  “If everything and anything. If you hadn’t gone in to the woods, if you hadn’t left Frederick behind, if you had only stayed a few more moments, if you had said goodbye. If.” He shook his head and came to sit beside her, clasping her hand in his. “The only difference any of it would have made is that you'd also be dead or wishing you were.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” she said. If she were being completely open with Garrett, she'd tell him death didn’t seem such a horrid thing when everyone she loved was already gone.

  “I know,” he said. “But as the days pass by, you’ll look out at their soul stars and find comfort in knowing they passed to the next realm.”

  “Is it truly that easy to forget this feeling?” She didn’t think anything could fill the aching gap left in her soul when she thought of her family and the fear they must have experienced in their final moments.

  “No, but it will happen.”

  “How?”

  “The Fae do not dwell in their grief. We tend to find beauty in the sadness and seek out the light that follows the darkness.” He softly squeezed her hand. “It is not easy now, and I cannot promise it will ever be as it once was, but there is little to gain from prolonged sorrow.”

  She stared at their joined hands and realized how comforting his hold was. They'd known each other for a month, yet the world in which they'd never met was a lifetime ago. Everything and everyone she knew was gone, and Garrett was all she had left. All except the idea of The Sanctuary.

  Still, despite the reassurance it gave her, it was hollow as if the slightest whiff of doubt would send it skittering through the woods, vanishing as quick as the sun had behind the canopy of trees. She needed something to hold on to. Something that gave The Sanctuary a sense of gravity and not just a mythical place in the distance, although in the Fae realm that was entirely possible.

  “Tell me about The Sanctuary,” she said.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything. What does it look like? Who lives there? What are they like?”

  “The palace is old, nearly as old as the Greek gods the humans liked to tell tales of, but it’s beautiful,” he said. “It is surrounded by orchards and vegetable gardens. The entryway is framed with tall marble columns, and leads to the library and atrium. The entire second floor is a grand ballroom.”

  “Do they have many balls?” she asked.

  “Never. The Sanctuary is devoted to the care of breeds, opening up the building to such a large group would present too great a risk.”

  She'd seen a picture of a palace once, though it had been difficult to judge the size as there was little else in the picture to give it perspective. But Garrett’s description made it sound as vast as the outer lands.

  “Why have such a space if it is never used?”

  “On occasion, they hold unification ceremonies there, and this year, when The Council and Coven come together to discuss the Peace Treaty, they will be hosted in the ballroom.”

  Frederick’s mother often told tales of the lavish parties she attended before moving to the village. Those tales had been filled with fancy dresses and beautiful people eating extravagant food, and all the while music would play and couples would dance under a canopy of dreams. There’s been a point that Thora had stopped believing, but perhaps there was some truth to the stories.

  It made sense now. Frederick’s mother had been Fae. His father, a witch. They moved to the village to protect Frederick. Had they known of The Sanctuary, maybe Frederick’s life would have been spent there, attending parties, and living carefree.

  Garrett spread his legs out in front of him, careful to keep his feet from getting too near the fire. “During the day, the halls bustle with activity, but at night, the slightest sound can echo for an eternity.”

  “How many people live there?”

  “Perhaps a hundred or so. The Council employs a small staff of Fae for security and to care for the younger breeds, but otherwise, the only residents are breeds.”

  “So you don’t live at The Sanctuary?”

  A loud snorting laugh escaped him, and Thora found herself smiling at his response.

  “No. I don’t live there, though I visit often.”

  Her shoulders sagged then she chided herself. Though she attempted to assure herself that she didn’t need a friendly face to make a new home, she couldn’t help being disappointed that Garrett
wouldn’t be around all the time. “Are there many visitors?”

  “No.”

  His answer sounded so definitive as if visitors were actually discouraged. Did the half-breeds not have family to visit them? Or friends? She had none left, but for others to not have the option seemed wrong.

  “That disturbs you?” Garrett asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.

  “I wonder what sort of place wouldn’t allow family or friends to visit.”

  Garrett sighed and tipped his head back, his lips moving silently. Perhaps he was asking Tatiana for patience. But his words were hidden from the Fae Queen’s soul star by the trees, and when he finished, he turned back to Thora, sadness in his eyes.

  “Thora, you lived a life outside of Fae and witch societies. There is so much for you to learn. The Bascadors who attacked your village are not the only ones out there. Beneath a façade of peace and acceptance, there are those who hide in the darkness, relentlessly searching for breeds. With atern growing scarce on the market, there is a growing group of Fae who are willing to do anything to possess a breed.”

  “What of the witches? Surely they are willing to protect us?”

  “Only to the extent that they can use you for their gain.” He pulled his hand from hers and pushed off the log. He strode around the fire, before coming to a stop and staring in to the fiery light.

  She gazed at him, studying the angles of his jaw and the way tension caused it to flex. His strong features were partially concealed by the dark stubble that covered the lower part of his face, but still, she lost herself in the beauty of him. She'd given little thought to men’s looks since Darrian left the village. Perhaps it was because that left Frederick the only available man, and having inherited his features from his witch father, he was slightly less than desirable.

  Guilt briefly pricked at her. It was unfair to compare Frederick to Garrett. No witch or breed should be judged against a Fae. Thora wasn’t so shallow as to think appearance was more important. Frederick had been a good friend. A good man. But so was Garrett. For weeks, he'd protected her, helped her through her grief, given her silence when she needed it, and brought a smile to her face when she least expected. Each day she spent with Garrett, she found his beauty grew.

  She met his eyes and flushed as he caught her staring at him again. He scowled and nudged one of the stones circling their fire. Her reaction appeared to anger him, and she wasn’t sure why.

  “You are too trusting, Thora,” he said.

  “How can you know that?”

  “We were strangers, yet you came in to the woods with me. Every night you sleep mere feet from me, knowing I could use you to replenish my atern and spare not a second thought for your will.”

  A hint of a smile curled her lips. “We both know trust had nothing to do with me following you in to the woods.”

  “It would take more than a compulsion spell to have you bare your grief to me.”

  “Perhaps then I am simply an amazing judge of character.”

  He kicked the rock, sending it skittering across the small dome and through the shield. “This is why getting you to The Sanctuary is so important.”

  “Because I trust you?”

  “Not me. Because you don’t understand what is out there.” He shook his head. “The Bascadors are only one threat, but with them, at least your suffering would be limited to their needs. The witches are worse. The breeds they hold are… well, few survive a month or two.”

  “And yet I should trust The Sanctuary?”

  “It is your only option.”

  How was it that the life she once thought so mundane, trapped in the village with only Frederick as a potential mate, suddenly sounded so heartbreakingly happy? She might have lived for centuries without knowing the horrors of the Fae realm, and how the Fae and witches had turned the once magical land so cruel.

  Yet, in that life, she might never have met Garrett, and despite the short time she'd known him, he had become her friend. Her heart throbbed as she gazed up at him. Perhaps more than a friend.

  Chapter 4

  “Britta always loved sleeping under the stars. She said it felt as if the universe were blanketing her in the souls of the dead.” Thora smoothed a clear spot in front of the fire before carefully arranging the thin sheet over the dirt for a bed.

  She'd told him the story that followed multiple times over the past weeks, yet he didn’t say anything. He recognized it as her way of keeping her sister with her. Of releasing her grief.

  The light of the flames flickered around them, catching the angles of her body as she moved with a sensual grace that made it difficult to keep in mind why he shouldn’t be watching her so closely.

  Yet, a flash of red from his cuff warned him why those reasons didn’t matter anymore. He was out of time. He was almost out of atern. He’d been training her to use simple spells that would take the daily burden off him, yet the constant drain of the dome and of helping to ease her grief had used a significant amount of his atern.

  “Thora, we need to talk about something.”

  “I thought we were talking,” she replied with a cheeky smile.

  “This is about something important. My atern is running low.” He lifted his arm to show her his cuff flashing red.

  The teasing glow she'd worn faded as concern tightened her lips. “How much do you have left?”

  “Less than ten percent.”

  To tell her it was less than five would have only given her more cause for worry.

  “Ten? How? I thought my helping with the cleaning would help.”

  “The woods are magical, and the only way to defend against them is to use magic in response. Generating a barrier for a night would be a level one spell. But this…” He waved his hand to the dome surrounding them, now entirely covered with leaves from the trees that encircled the thin barrier, “This takes more. The trees are strong, and they feed off your fear.”

  “What happens if you run out?”

  “Then you’ll need to fend for yourself.”

  “That’s not funny, Garrett.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be. When my cuff hits zero, I’m dead.”

  She looked at her own cuff, still showing a nearly full charge. “Can I transfer some of mine to you?”

  He shook his head. “Fae to Fae, breed to breed, witch to witch.”

  Her face wrinkled in confusion. “I thought that was why the Bascadors were looking for the village.”

  “In a fashion. You can replenish my atern, but not transfer any of yours to me.”

  “How?”

  Head tipped back, he stared upward, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t scare her off. But the stars her sister had loved to sleep under, that might have given him guidance, stayed concealed by the trees.

  “There are certain hormones that are produced in the fluids of a breed which stimulate the production of atern. So when a Fae… is intimate with a breed, the Fae’s atern store increases.”

  Garrett watched Thora’s eyes widen and her face pale as the meaning of his words sunk in, or, at least, what she thought they meant.

  “Relax, Thora.” His deep chuckles reverberated around them, and he winced at the vaguely menacing sound they created. “I’m not asking you to have sex with me.”

  “But you just said a breed and Fae need to be intimate.”

  “Sex is one way. The most effective way,” he admitted. “But a kiss can provide a small boost.”

  “A kiss?”

  “Perhaps more than one,” he teased.

  “More than one,” she repeated, trepidation wavering in her voice.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he reassured her. “It’s your choice.”

  “But what of your atern?”

  “We’ll find other means of surviving.”

  There was a long moment as they both considered what that meant. Basic survival meant food, shelter, fire, but those would be easy compared to surviving the woods without the use of magic.
>
  As if they were listening, the trees shuddered and creaked as they leaned toward the small dome in which he and Thora were enclosed.

  “Just a kiss?”

  “Nothing more,” he promised.

  “I suppose there is no other alternative.”

  “Thora, I’m not going to force this on you. We can survive without using magic. Though, it will be much harder.”

  “No. I want to,” Thora protested then flushed a lovely pink at how her words sounded. “I mean, I don’t mind. If it’ll help. Not that I wouldn’t want to… I mean… I… ”

  He chuckled as she stumbled over her words, and as her face continued glowing, he began to wonder just how innocent she was.

  “Have you never been kissed before?” he asked.

  Her lips pursed in a defensive scowl. “There wasn’t much opportunity for such things in our village, but I have been kissed.”

  Probably by her friend Frederick.

  “Kissing is easy enough with a bit of practice,” he said. “And, truly, it doesn’t even matter if you’re good at it for this to work. A few kisses and my atern will go up, and we’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  “Okay.” Thora walked around to the foot of her blanket and ran her trembling hands down the front of her skirt. Her fingers clenched in the material before letting it go and joining together in front of her. “How do we…? Do you…?”

  There was a slight tug in his chest at her obvious display of nerves, and while he hated to think that she was worried, he couldn’t help but be relieved that she was willing to do it to keep him alive.

  He stepped over to her and cupped her delicate face in his hands, tipping her head back so he could see in to her eyes, which widened with something other than the fear he'd anticipated. A swirl of untouched passion lit them up.

  “A kiss. That’s all,” Garrett murmured, and lowered his head until his lips hovered above hers.

  “A kiss doesn’t sound so bad,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “A kiss.”

  The promise no longer a comforting promise to her, but a caution to himself.