Hunter: Faction 10: The Isa Fae Collection Page 13

  After Garrett finally agreed to let her help Lorelle, he'd created a complex plan that involved a number of lies. Thora had just stared at him until he stopped and realized who he was talking to. Her inability to lie well hadn’t changed at all since arriving at The Sanctuary. If anything, Thora felt it had become worse because of lack of use.

  His idea to get in under the guise of delivering the meal cart was the only part she thought would work. Meals for the service wing were always completed first, plated, then carted over to the staff. Which, that day, was Rossa’s responsibility.

  “Rossa?”

  “Hm?”

  “I need to switch kitchen tasks with you.”

  “Hmm… that’s nice,” Rossa said dreamily.

  “Are you listening to me?” Thora nudged her with a sharp elbow.

  “Ow!” Rossa rubbed her ribs. “What was that for?”

  “I need to switch kitchen tasks with you.”

  “Why?”

  Thora glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “I need to go to the east wing.”

  Ross dropped the potato she'd been magically peeling. “Why would you need to go there?”

  “There’s a woman there—Lorelle. I need to speak with her.”

  “Oh. Sure.” She resumed her peeling.

  Thora had anticipated having to at least generate a fib. Maybe a story about knowing Lorelle from the village, or… well, that had been the only lie she thought of. She should have known Rossa wouldn’t care for details unless she thought they were juicy.

  Thora waited until everything was almost ready to go before she found a corner that hid her from the view of the others.

  She closed her eyes and tightly gripped a small stone hidden in her pocket with her other hand. Garrett gave it to her the day before, with instructions on how to use it to strengthen her magic. While a full Fae could easily cast the loúra charm, using a talisman allowed a breed to tap in to their witch magic and produce the spell.

  There was a suctioning sensation where her palm rested on her chest, then nothing. She wasn’t sure if the magic had worked, and the only way to know was to test it out. Hesitantly, she made her way toward the cart holding the food for the service staff.

  She passed by Rossa and a few others, but no one acknowledged her. It was an odd feeling to be forgotten when seen. Garrett first suggested a concealment spell, but they decided a cart pushing itself through the halls would attract too much attention. The loúra charm simply prevented people from remembering they'd seen her.

  Thora took the cart through the outer door and down the path that led around the outside of The Sanctuary to the east wing entrance.

  Inside, the foyer was dark and the walls, covered with a heavy red material that, in moderation, might hold the same luxurious feel as Garrett’s room, were overwhelming and garish.

  She pushed the cart to the dining room, surprised that only a few breeds were there. She carefully studied the women, comparing them to the picture Garrett had shown her of Lorelle. The alítheia water had been clouded from Garrett’s hazy memory as it had been months since he last saw the woman. With thick, straight, black hair and an olive complexion, she could have been any of the women there. Except, Lorelle had a beauty mark on her right temple.

  Taking a calming breath, Thora went down the hall, peeking in the open doors. It was odd to see so many open. On the breed and guest floors, every one of them would be closed and locked. There, though, it was an invitation to anyone who might pass by.

  Passing by a closed door, she hesitated, wondering if she should knock, but then the unmistakable sounds of heavy grunting and slapping of flesh against flesh reached her. She scurried away before she had time to create a mental image.

  At the end of the hall, she found Lorelle, sitting in a wing-backed chair in the corner of her room. The utter hopelessness of her demeanor was heartbreaking.

  Thora cast a quick glance down the corridor, then remembered it didn’t matter if anyone saw her. She went in to the room and shut the door behind her.

  Lorelle glanced up at her, before going back to staring out the window. Thora had been feeling so proud of successfully using the loúra charm, she hadn’t considered what she would do once she was there. Having Lorelle unaware of her presence posed an unexpected problem.

  Taking the stone from her pocket, she placed it on the dresser beside the door, then focused on trying to reverse the magic, pulling the power from her. Drawing her hand from her chest, a glowing pink stream of dust came with it, trailing behind with every movement she made. She grasped the stone and watched as the dust disappeared inside.

  “Who are you?” Lorelle said, obviously startled to find a stranger in her room.

  “I’m Thora. Garrett sent me to talk to you.”

  “Garrett?”

  “He would have come himself, but…" Thora returned the stone to her pocket and moved to sit on the window bench next to Lorelle. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  Dejection slumped Lorelle’s shoulders.

  “I can’t image what you’ve gone through, and it does matter because it should never have happened.” Thora leaned forward and grasped the other woman’s hand in hers. “I can’t give you specifics, but Garrett and Darrian are trying to help.”

  “They can’t help.” She gave a sharp, humorless laugh. She told Thora of her mate selling her to the Bascadors, of the journey she took to Oozara, how they rented her out to a group of Fae, and her escape in the early morning hours days after arriving. Finally, she spoke about the witch who discovered her hiding behind a bakery.

  “When he contacted the hunters, I knew it was over,” Lorelle said. “They’re part of the problem. Garrett brought me here when I was twenty-two. He promised me a home for as long as I wanted. I had three years before that home was ripped away from me. I thought I was one of the lucky ones. That The Council had ensured Joran was a good man. Instead, they sold me to the highest bidder under the illusion that I made the decision.”

  “When Garrett brought you here, he didn’t know what was happening.”

  “It’s over. Decided. At least here, I’ll have a roof over my head and food to eat.”

  “What if we could get you out?” Thora asked. “You'd be free.”

  Lorelle stared at Thora with dark, soulless eyes. “There’s no escape. The Council has turned their backs on the breeds, giving Amadeus leave to do as he wishes.”

  “Are you sure The Council knows?”

  “How could they not?” Lorelle waved a hand toward the hallway. “Who do you think spends the most time here? They’re happy to let the faction think we’re being saved, but, really, they are trading us to the few who can give them the power they want.”

  There was nothing left for Thora to say. The resignation in Lorelle’s voice was impossible to dismiss, and the longer she thought about the truth of the other woman’s words, the harder it became for Thora to conceive of any way in which Garrett’s plans to bring down Amadeus would work.

  “If you change your mind, call for Garrett. He will come for you.”

  “He won’t come.”

  Thora wanted to defend him, but despite the reassurance he'd given her that he would help Lorelle, there was a small part of Thora that wondered whether he would. How could she promise that broken woman he would help her no matter the cost? His promises to Sophie so far had been more important than anything else.

  “Then I will. Darrian will.”

  The conversation haunted her as she made her way back to the kitchen. Seeing Lorelle—hearing her defeat—had put into perspective just how powerless breeds were in the faction.

  She dropped the cart off in the kitchen then spent some time aimlessly roaming the atrium. The bright flowers did little to lighten her mood, serving only to give a stark contrast to the dark deception she knew hid in The Sanctuary.

  As she drew near the back of the indoor garden, hushed voices reached her. She nearly
turned around before recognizing Garrett’s voice. Deciding she needed to tell him about Lorelle, she made her way around the corner and came face to furious face with Sophie.

  They stared at each other for a startled moment.

  “Why am I not surprised you’re here?” Sophie snapped at her.

  Thora stayed silent, knowing the best course of action with Sophie was to not engage with her.

  “Sophie, that’s enough,” Garrett said.

  She gave a humorless laugh and turned to him.

  Sophie’s back was to Thora, but she had no difficulty imagining her expression.

  “Do you remember our conversation from yesterday morning? Well, maybe I’ll speak to Amadeus about someone else,” Sophie said.

  Thora watched Garrett’s face pale under the threat, though Thora had no idea what Sophie was talking about. When he looked back at her, Thora gave him a tight smile. “I was wondering if I could speak with you about my magic lessons.”

  “Not right now,” he said tersely. “Sophie and I are having a private conversation.”

  The sting of his words was sharp. “Of course. Later then.”

  “We can discuss it during your lesson tomorrow. I have more important things to do than listen to you whine about how hard magic is.”

  She stood there, stunned at his tone and accusation. In the nearly three months she'd known him, he'd never once spoken to her like that, and while she might occasionally complain, she didn’t deserve to be treated rudely.

  “I didn’t realize the issues of the breeds only concerned you when they were convenient.” She stomped away, indignation blinding her to the others working until she rammed in to the middle of a wide, muscular chest.

  “I always dreamed you’d run in to my arms one day,” Darrian said as she stepped back.

  “It’s what happens when you stand between a hungry girl and her dinner,” she replied, trying to shake off her anger.

  “You shouldn’t look so miserable this close to dinner,” Darrian said, joining her as she walked. “Did you have a successful day?”

  “Partially.” She waved to Rossa, who was watching them from across the indoor garden. Rossa waved back, and then pretended to look away, but Thora noticed her eyes stayed on them—a reminder that anyone could be listening. With many of the breeds possessing Fae hearing, privacy was scarce in the garden. “Perhaps I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “I'd love to hear all the details,” Darrian replied. “But as you said. Later. Shall we head in for dinner?”

  She nodded, and they altered their course toward the dining hall.

  “I spoke to Amadeus again about returning to the village. Not permanently, but… ”

  “You need to know for certain.” His desire to go back didn’t surprise her. If she believed she could survive the woods again, she'd leave as well.

  He nodded. “If she’s passed—if they’ve all passed—they need to be buried.”

  “How soon are you leaving?” she asked, already missing him.

  “I’m not. Amadeus refused my request again.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because it means going in to the woods, and while Fae hunters are expendable, I’m a breed first. The chances of me not returning are too great.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He shrugged, and the motion set a lock of dark brown hair to fall across his forehead and cover one of his eyes.

  “When I decided to leave the village, you never asked me to stay,” he said.

  Thora tore her eyes away from the blossoming flowers to look at him. “I wanted you to, but I knew you needed to leave.”

  “Maybe I did, but I didn’t want to.”

  As they reached the end of the atrium, he reached back and plucked a long-stemmed rose from one of the pots. He handed the rose to her, and with a gentle wave of his fingers, the bud opened with a shower of silvery sparkles.

  She wove the stem of the flower in to her braid. “You always talked about leaving.”

  “Because I knew there wasn’t anything left for me in the village.”

  She knew he was right. With his father gone, his mother waiting for death to claim her, and no siblings, all he had was her. And what she'd had to offer him wouldn’t have been enough.

  “I’m sorry, Darrian. I wish… ”

  He reached over and grasped her hand, threading their fingers together in a comforting hold that once elicited a stronger response. Even then, swept up in her first experience with desire, she had realized that, although he would have spent his life trying to give her everything she wanted, he couldn’t.

  But Garrett could. He just didn’t want to.

  Darrian lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. She couldn’t help the smile it brought to her face.

  “You should smile at me like that more often.”

  “Why’s that?” she asked, the twinkle in his eyes making her suspicious.

  “Because Garrett absolutely hates it.”

  “You’re horrible.” She yanked her hand away, and then gave him a gentle swat on the arm. He laughed as she gave him her best unimpressed face.

  “I do wonder if perhaps it’s actually Rossa you’re trying to annoy,” she said.

  “Rossa?”

  “I’ve seen the looks the two of you share.”

  Darrian snorted. “She’s a pretty little thing, but unlike you, I’ve no intention of going down a long and angst-filled path toward heartache.”

  “How can you be sure it would lead to heartache?” Thora glanced back to where Rossa had been, but didn’t spot her.

  “I sometimes forget that you are still so new to all this.”

  “The Sanctuary?”

  “To the faction. Growing up, we never had to worry about atern, but out here, atern controls everyone, and the more you possess, the more you control.”

  She shook her head, confused. “What does that have to do with you and Rossa?”

  “Breeds offer the Fae a way to increase the atern in circulation. A breed mating with another breed or a witch brings nothing to The Council. Even if I wanted to unite with Rossa—which I’m not saying I do—they would never approve of a breed to breed unification. In their eyes, it would be just as wasteful as uniting with a witch.”

  The hum of activity from the dining hall surrounded them, and as they reached the entrance, they paused. Thora glanced around, finding Garrett and Sophie in their usual seats at the end of the front table. She locked eyes with him, and the memory of his kisses weakened her knees.

  He cared about the breeds, and once she would have said he cared for her, yet every day, he proved otherwise.

  His determination, his commitment, to what he saw as his duty to protect Sophie didn’t surprise Thora. It was the fact that he would put the promise of unity above every other breed who trusted him.

  When she went before Amadeus, what would she be forced to choose?

  “We’re safe, but not really free, are we?” she said to Darrian. “Some of us are just more trapped than others.”

  “Don’t pity him, Thora. He has more freedom than perhaps anyone else in The Sanctuary.”

  “I’m not feeling that well,” she said. “I’ll talk to you about everything tomorrow.”

  “I can have the physician come up if you'd like,” he offered.

  “No. I just need to rest my eyes.”

  As she turned to leave, her eyes met Garrett’s. She tried to read them, unsure of what she wanted to find there. If she were being honest, she'd admit that she wanted to see desire. To know that the fire they'd ignited still burned as hot in him as it did in her. There had been moments over the last few weeks where she thought he felt it. Those moments were fleeting, though, and she was never sure if they existed only in her daydreams.

  He'd been so angry in the atrium. Thora hadn’t expected that, but maybe he assumed she would say something to Sophie. The thought may have crossed her mind, before quickly vanishi
ng. Telling Sophie wouldn’t change the fact that he had chosen her over Thora.

  But there was no anger in his gaze. He was more subdued, almost melancholy, and that was even harder for her to accept. She'd never run from what she wanted, yet perhaps it was finally time. Lust wasn’t new to her, but what she felt for him was more than that, and she feared if she continued to let herself dream, she'd be broken beyond repair.

  In her room, she pottered around, rearranging the few belongings she'd accumulated over the weeks since she arrived. Most of the items were hand-me-downs, left behind by those who had moved on to the service wing or unification.

  The only exception was a small amulet suspended on a delicate chain that hung from the corner of the mirror above the dresser. Garrett had brought it back from Oozara when he'd gone on a hunt for a young breed who had been spotted wandering the city.

  When he gave her the amulet, she found herself held captive by the milky white opal and even thought she saw the subtle pink veins swirling around inside. She'd asked why he was giving it to her, and he responded that it was nothing. He found it and thought she might like it. That was all. A token from one friend to another. Yet, despite his claim that they were friends, she couldn’t say she wanted to be friends with him. She didn’t think she ever could be.

  She'd only been in her room a few minutes when there was a light knock on her door. Opening it, she found Garrett standing there. He did a quick check over his shoulder for anyone who might be watching, then stepped in to the room, ignoring the slight noise of protest she made.

  “Please, come in,” she said, and swung the door shut behind him.

  “Sorry. I need to speak to you about earlier,” Garrett said.

  He wandered over to the window and pulled aside the curtain to gaze out on the back of The Sanctuary grounds. While her room might not have been much, she had a stunning view of the garden.

  “You have the morning light,” he commented. “You must love that.”

  “Must I?”

  Her sharp words echoed around them, and he glanced over his shoulder at her. Whether it was his ability to conceal his emotions or her desire to see something that might not be there, she couldn’t figure out what was going through his mind.