Hunter: Faction 10: The Isa Fae Collection

by Angela Fristoe

  “She’s odd, isn’t she?” Sophie said.

  Garrett tore his eyes away from the empty doorway and turned to her. “What makes you say that?”

  Sophie scoffed. “She’s hardly said anything to me since arriving. There’s also the matter of her ears. I’ve never seen a breed with human ears before. It’s… unnatural.”

  “She’s as much a breed as you are,” Garrett said. Her eyes widened and regret for his harsh tone softened him. “Shall we go to the garden?”

  Sophie nodded and took the hand he held out.

  “I need to drop my pack off first,” he said.

  They strolled down the corridor, and she filled the silence with a rundown of the visitors who'd come and gone. A few were regular visitors, but there were new ones as well. He mentally catalogued the names for later when he could add them to his growing list of Amadeus’s suspected cohorts.

  Ever since The Sanctuary was founded, there had been a service staff—breeds who either declined offers of unification or who had never received an offer. Established after Tatiana’s soul star had risen, the service wing was the ugly side of The Peace Treaty that had funded the continued protection of the breeds. The Council claimed that for the many, a few would have the choice of giving of themselves to the Fae who protected them.

  Garrett was ashamed to admit that he had turned a blind eye to it like so many others. It wasn’t until he met Sophie that he realized he couldn’t ignore it anymore. One day, she would face Amadeus and her fate would be decided.

  For months, Garrett had been collecting information, compiling evidence to take to the upcoming Peace Treaty Summit. Exposing the collusion between The Council and Amadeus to use the breeds to benefit themselves would only be possible during the one event broadcast to the entire faction.

  As a member of The Depository, he was guaranteed a seat at the table despite the relatively minimal role he played in the position. Until then, he just had to keep Sophie, and now Thora, safe. But with her twenty-fifth birthday weeks before The Summit, Sophie’s time was running out. Unification was her only hope.

  She nudged his arm with her elbow, and he realized they were standing in front of his room. He smiled down at her.

  “You’re distracted,” she noted.

  He gave a forced laugh. “Tired. The woods were not gentle this trip.”

  “You had to use magic?”

  He silently nodded as the image of Thora, her lips a glistening deep pink from their kisses, flashed through his mind.

  “Your atern,” Sophie cried, and grabbed his wrist. She twisted his arm so the band faced up.

  The pulsing green light of a nearly full charge took over the silence between them until he swore he could hear the heavy beat of it. There was no denying he had kissed Thora. He just admitted that he'd used magic, and he'd been gone for weeks. Even on his easy trips, he was lucky to come back with the charge in yellow.

  “Perhaps we could leave the garden till later. I… I should get down to the kitchen,” Sophie said, turning away.

  “Sophie, I didn’t have a choice.”

  It was the truth. A convenient truth that could be told of the first time he'd kissed Thora, but that morning… there was no excuse. Especially considering that he wanted to go down to the atrium, find Thora, and relive the experience.

  Lying came naturally to the Fae. It was a symptom of the magic they used. While witch magic tended to be about using nature to perform some unnatural task, Fae magic manipulated it, changing it to suit their needs. Yet, Garrett hated to lie. He was as good as any other Fae at fibbing, but it ate away at him. That he was lying to Sophie only made it harder.

  She took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and looked him in the eye. “I believe you.”

  The knot inside him tightened.

  “I really do need to go,” she said. “Rossa is supervising kitchen preparations this evening, and she is dreadfully inept at just about everything. I’ll see you at dinner.” She gave him a peck on the cheek then hustled away.

  Not bothering to wait for her to disappear round the corner, he placed his hand to the door and waited as a soft blue light began to glow beneath his palm. Sparks flickered loose, shooting around as the door attempted to determine his identity. The specialized locking system worked well on private doors, but the room had been home to dozens of others over the years and was as unreliable as a witch’s concealment spell.

  The luxurious room was once a welcomed sight. He'd always enjoyed returning from a hunt and collapsing on the soft bed with its red velvet comforter as exhaustion took him over. But at that moment, it seemed so empty. It lacked the warmth of the dome where he and Thora had taken shelter. There was no constant chatter from Thora nor the gentle sounds of the trees as they tested the barrier.

  He shook off the thought. Once he was back home in Oozara, he'd feel more grounded. There, he would be able to refocus his efforts on bringing down Amadeus and The Council members.

  Occupying his mind with his plans, he stripped, tossing his clothing into the basket that sat in the corner behind the door. After letting the water run and fill the bathroom with steam, he climbed in the shower and let the scalding water wash away the lingering thoughts of Thora.

  After his shower, he tugged on a clean pair of jeans and went to the desk that looked out to the orchard. Sliding a hand beneath its hardwood surface, he found the small knob tucked away in the far left corner, no bigger than the head of a nail. He began pressing and releasing it in an odd rhythm that, to anyone else, would have seemed random, but with a final push, there was a soft puff of air and a hidden compartment lowered.

  He pulled out a thin notebook and placed it on the desk. He opened the book, and as he flipped through the blank pages, they multiplied until the book was as thick as his forearm. When he reached a dog-eared page, he rested his palm on it. Closing his eyes, he focused on letting the book pull the memory of its words from him. Silvery dust floated across the page in a swirling mess that darkened to black before settling in to his familiar handwriting.

  It was complex magic that allowed him to store the words inside of him and then transfer them back into the notebook. The book contained every piece of knowledge he’d obtained about The Sanctuary, The Council, and Amadeus since he last made an entry. Despite the high level of atern it required, the magic was well worth it. Leaving the notes unprotected while he was gone was just too risky.

  The last part of today’s entry was the list of the new Sanctuary guests Sophie had mentioned. Most were unsurprising—lower level Council members likely being granted a visit for the first time. But one name stuck out. Anton Galani. Garrett had never heard of the man before, which meant he wasn’t a member of either The Council or the coven nor was he a ranking member of the hunters.

  So who was Anton Galani? And what had he done to be granted access to the service staff?

  Knowing he’d get no reliable answers until he was back in the capitol, he replaced the book under the desk, creating a new locking sequence.

  He snagged a report form from the basket that sat on the top right corner of the desk and began filling out the details surrounding his discovery of Thora. It was a process he’d been through dozens of times. The questions were standard—date, time, location, and any additional information that might be vital to locating other breeds. Typically, he’d have it completed in less than five minutes.

  It was the last part that had him hesitating. Never had he found more than a single breed while out hunting. Despite the stories Darrian had told him of the village, Garrett hadn’t really believed in its existence, or at least that it was on the other side of the woods. Perhaps that was one reason he never found anything before Thora became lost in them.

  He’d seen the destruction the Bascadors had rained down on the homes at the edge of the village. They could have easily killed every Fae and witch there, taking the breeds to The Capitol. Less likely was that the villagers had fought back and killed them. There was no way for him to k
now, but providing details about the village meant opening up any possible survivors to not only the hunters, but to more Bascadors.

  He thought of the devastation he’d seen on Thora’s face when she’d learned the fate of her mother and sister. It had tugged at him when he’d barely known her. Now the memory left his chest tightening at his inability to truly comfort her.

  Steely resolve stiffened his spine, and he jotted down a few notes. Leaving it blank would raise suspicions. Especially since he didn’t know how much of their time in the woods Thora would reveal to Amadeus. But he could fudge a few details.

  A wide yawn came over him, and he pressed his thumb to the bottom of the report, marking it as complete, and then slipped it in to a folder. Normally, he would have taken it immediately to the registry for review, but exhaustion had caught up with him.

  He fell on the bed, sinking in to the plush mattress. A sigh escaped him at the delicious comfort, and he closed his eyes to the bright rays of the midday sun streaming through his window. Yet, the relief he’d had from thoughts of Thora vanished, and he tossed and turned as she infiltrated his mind, leaving him yearning for another taste of her.

  Chapter 7

  Thora took one last glance at Garrett before following Amadeus into the indoor garden. Something about the way Garrett had looked at Amadeus left her reluctant to trust the head of The Sanctuary, despite his classic, stunning Fae looks.

  Garrett had brought her to The Sanctuary, yet for all the reassurance he'd given her that this was the safest place for her, she was overwhelmed by the realization that anywhere outside of the village was as far from safe as she could get.

  Amadeus sat in a throne-like chair, his flowing tunic flaring around his legs, and rested his heavily jeweled hands on the arm rests. Behind him stood a cluster of potted trees with pink blossoms that clashed with his dark blue garb. She nearly dipped into a deep curtsy at the sight he made, not from any instinct but because she found the whole display ridiculous, much like the fairy tales her mother had once told her.

  Instead, she pulled up a chair and sat opposite him, not waiting for him to offer a seat. For a long moment, they stared at each other. His gaze seemed determined to pin her down into a neat little breed package, and her own glared back at him in defiance.

  “I find it quite interesting that you appear to know nothing of the protocol when meeting a high ranking official of The Council,” he said. Despite the admonishment, Thora’s lips twitched at the knowledge that he'd been first to break the staring contest.

  “At home, we greeted each other by name and offered a friendly smile when passing by, so I find it interesting you know nothing of such niceties.”

  Maybe that was a touch rude on her part, but he'd rubbed her the wrong way from the moment she caught sight of him in the doorway. His snotty attitude only made her want to needle him even more.

  “As for protocols and Council officials,” she said, forcing her eyes down in a false display of deference, “The village was free from the politics of the Faction.”

  “You’ll require extensive training if you are to stay.”

  “I thought that’s what this was? That you’re the one to decide if I can stay.”

  He inclined his head. “I am. However, my decision is dependent on the outcome of your interview.”

  Suddenly being a bit forceful didn’t seem like such a wise idea. Thora sank back in her chair, curling her shoulders in to make herself look smaller. It was a trick her mother had taught her to make her appear fragile and in need of kindness if, by chance, she ever found herself at the mercy of another.

  Thora had scoffed at the idea. It went against her natural instinct to stand up for herself, but she'd done as her mother asked, occasionally practicing on her father. Other than her father, Garrett was the only man she'd ever let tell her what to do, and even then, it had only been because it was a matter of life and death.

  Sitting across from Amadeus, she finally understood what her mother meant about being at the mercy of another. He would decide if the home Garrett had promised would be hers, or if she'd be cast out in to the faction with no idea how to survive.

  His eyes narrowed on her, and she wasn’t entirely certain he bought her sudden shift in attitude.

  “Where were you, before Garrett found you?” He steepled his fingers in front of his chest.

  It sounded like such a simple question, and her answer should have been easy, yet the lingering suspicion ignited by Garrett’s hesitation to leave her with Amadeus made everything so complicated.

  “I was in the woods.”

  “And how did you get there?”

  “A friend and I were out for a stroll when we happened upon it.”

  She was half Fae. Lies should have come easier to her, yet every time she thought of one, her tongue twisted. If she couldn’t lie, then she would keep things as simple as possible.

  “He was a breed as well?”

  Thora nodded.

  Amadeus released a heavy sigh. “This will go much more quickly if you don’t force me to ask about every detail.”

  Thora nodded and swallowed around the thick lump in her throat. Too little information and he might decide not to let her stay. Too much and… she wasn’t sure what he would do with it, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling Garrett’s last look had been trying to tell her not to trust Amadeus too far.

  “The village I grew up in was through the woods, on the other side of the fence,” she started.

  “Darrian came from the forest.”

  “It’s the same village,” she said.

  “A town filled with breeds,” Amadeus said, the corner of his mouth twitching before he scowled. “Tell me how you met Garrett.”

  She told him of the trees attacking her and Freddie, of Freddie’s death, and then about Garrett helping her find her way back home only to discover the Bascadors had found it first.

  “You said your mother and sister were killed. What of the others in town?”

  “There were no survivors.” That one lie rolled from her lips easier than she expected. Perhaps because it wasn’t so much a lie as it was a horrifying and reluctant belief she'd held for the past month. It was also a likely reality she couldn’t run away from.

  “Such a shame,” he murmured, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. “Do you have any other family?”

  “No. They have all passed to their soul stars.”

  “Are you certain? Your parents were obviously less than forthcoming about the faction outside your village. Could they have lied about this?”

  She didn’t like to think of her parents purposely deceiving her, but she couldn’t disregard the truth in his words.

  “Is family a requirement for staying here?” she asked.

  He gave a soft laugh, and his humor transformed his face. He'd been handsome before, all fair men were, but with that smile, she saw how gorgeous he could be. Not that it canceled out the uneasy feelings he raised in her.

  “It’s not a requirement. However, it makes approval for unification more difficult. Unless you’re thinking of joining the service staff?”

  “I… I’m not sure,” she admitted.

  “No. I suppose you wouldn’t be,” he said with another laugh as he rose from his seat. “Come. Trilby will settle you in.”

  “Does this mean I can stay?” Thora stood and followed him to the entrance of the atrium.

  “Of course.” He motioned her ahead of him. “Despite my reputation for being harsh, I’ve never turned a breed away. These interviews are but a formality.”

  Never a breed. Meaning he'd turned Fae and witch away? Perhaps it was necessary. Still, why make the distinction? The conflicting thoughts only confused her, and she shook her head, clearing them away. It didn’t matter what Amadeus’s intentions were. At least not right then. All that mattered was she had a place to stay until she adjusted to life beyond the fence. A life including magic.

  Trilby ended up being a tall, br
oad woman who towered over her. Thora had never seen such a large woman, and watched in awe as the woman walked with such grace and power she might have been a warrior plunging into battle.

  Thora followed her silently up the wide marble stairs to the third level and down a dark hall of closed doors. She'd expected the bright and open layout of the main floor to be echoed up here, yet it looked more like a dungeon.

  “This is your room,” Trilby said, her musical voice so at odds with the fierce look of her. “You’ll be expected to contribute to The Sanctuary through daily tasks, and I suspect you’ll also need some training in the use of magic. I’ll prepare a schedule for you. At first light, report to me.”

  Thora wondered if her lack of skills in using magic were so obvious even strangers could tell she was limited to cleaning her hands and starting a fire.

  “There is nothing about The Sanctuary and its occupants that I don’t know,” Trilby said. The remote expression she wore was impossible to read, and Thora wasn’t sure if the other woman was stating a fact or giving her a warning.

  Trilby grabbed Thora’s hand and pressed it to the center of the door. Glowing pale purple sparkles burst forth, and there was a loud click before Trilby dropped her hold on Thora and flung the door open.

  “Your room.”

  She spun on her heel and marched back down the hall, disappearing around the corner before Thora could even say thank you.

  Surveying the room, Thora quelled the rush of disappointment. After the stunning gardens and elaborately decorated foray, her expectations had been high. Instead, the room looked much like the one she'd left behind at home. Pressed against the wall to the left was a narrow bed covered with a pale blue blanket. Beside it was a night stand and a lamp with a simple white shade. An armoire stood along the opposite wall next to a closed door, and under the window on the right was a reading bench, though she didn’t see any books.

  Shutting the door behind her, she moved in further and drew in a deep breath. That was her life for now. Possibly, one day, it would be different, but for the foreseeable future, that was it. She'd wanted to know what was on the other side of the fence, and while creating a home at The Sanctuary didn’t seem much different than being trapped by the woods, she didn’t have the option of going back.