Hearts of the Hunted

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.”

Adrian’s voice curled around the tips of her ears, his hot breath branding her skin, lips dangerously close to making contact. He straightened up, towering over. He squeezed her wrist between his index finger and thumb, turning her palm upward and pressing a large golden coin in the center. For dinner. Adrian’s pale skin was a stark contrast against her own dark tone. He folded her fingers gently until they covered the coin. The touch was soft, kind, and left her skin yearning for more contact, more warmth. Jayda resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her own stupidity. Once upon a time she thought differently of those dull eyes, of that thin-lipped smirk, of that look that could cut glass but somehow always softened around her- still softened around her.

“And soon, because of your good work, because of you, this city will return to the way it used to be. Elandar will return to the way it used to be.” Adrian walked off to the corner of the damp, crowded underground bar. Jayda hated this place- the filth, the roaring crowd behind her, the shards of broken glass littering the ground, the puddles of booze.

“How many kills?” he asked.

“Twenty seven.” Jayda was surprised at the steadiness of her own voice, as if each death meant nothing to her anymore. She was perched on the edge of the bar top, one leg drawn up, the other dangling freely. She stared at her boots. Twenty seven just today. That had to be a new record. Yesterday, she would have felt a rush of pride, but today? Today her heart sank as her eyes traced the blotches of blood splattered on her shoes.

“Excellent,” his voice drawled. He was crouched under the counter, rummaging through a cardboard box. “I expect nothing less from my best Hunter.”

Jayda narrowed her eyes, surprised at Adrian’s words. The whole city knew Jayda’s name, knew her as Elandar’s best bounty hunter. She sought out the city’s most magnificent beasts and stood victorious over their dead bodies. In return, Adrian paid her a fair sum, enough to keep her comfortable from one day to the next. Her prey were dangerous; she was murderous. But Adrian was known to be modest with his flattery of his Hunters. While the city constantly roared with praise for Jayda’s work, he had only ever acknowledged her accomplishments once before. So why now? Was he suddenly feeling sentimental? Guilty? Maybe he pitied her?

It was definitely the latter. Jayda shook her head. There were much more pressing matters she should be turning over. She attempted a smile, as to not draw suspicion, but her heart was not in it. How could it be? How could she ever expect to smile again? Her heart felt like a cold, dead weight.

“Something is not right, though. Something is off about you tonight.” He gave her a sharp glance, then returned his attention to the box. Adrian fished out a large, enticing bottle of gin. He uncorked the bottle, sniffed it, and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Bingo,” he said, turning his head to smile up at her.

Jayda cocked an eyebrow. “Whatever is that for?”

“Jayda, dearest,” Adrian said, his tone mocking. He stood and raised the bottle. “For you.”

Jayda scoffed. “That can’t be right. Are you sure you’re really Adrian Fawkes, Guardian of Dragon Hunters, Legendary Dragon Slayer, and Owner of This-” A glass whizzed past Jayda’s head and shattered against the wall.

“Knock it off Runo!” Adrian shouted over the uproar behind her. Jayda peered over her shoulder to see a very large, very drunk man in a brawl with a very scrawny, equally drunk man.

“-Exquisite Establishment?” Jayda finished. “Adrian would never pay this much attention to me, let alone raise a toast in my honor.” Jayda tried to keep the mood light despite how she truly felt now as she gazed into his amused eyes. Gutting him would be too simple. The fun of it would be over too soon. Strangulation could work. She could envision the deep black bruises her fingertips would make, peppering his pale skin, ruining that pretty neck.

“Can you not just accept that I want to celebrate you tonight?” Adrian turned his back again, reaching for the cabinet door behind him which held the glasses. Jayda’s mocking tone never seemed to have any effect on Adrian- he was invariably composed, unbothered. He kept his anger on a tight leash, unlike Jayda.

And no, she could not accept that. Jayda would not be fooled by him, not anymore at least. He did not actually care. He had no shame in toying with Jayda’s heart, Jayda’s time, Jayda’s life. The whispered words she had overheard confirmed this very truth. Why was he even doing this?

Jayda’s eyes fell on the clock hanging precariously on the wall, each tick a reminder of her dwindling time. She had to think of her next steps, fast. What would she do after she confronted him? Jayda struggled for her next breath. Focus on something, focus on anything, just focus.

Jayda’s eyes traveled down Adrian’s lean figure, his back facing her as he poured two glasses of gin. His limbs were long, his hair a perfectly trimmed, perfectly kept sweep of jet black that was consistently slicked back. Considering he was already twenty six, only two years older than Jayda herself, his features were strikingly youthful. Adrian wasn’t traditionally handsome- he was something else, something out of a storybook. The perfect contours of his face demanded a double-take from each viewer who hungrily took in his features. His eyes were a deep gray, his jaw sharp and set. He was dressed in his usual bartending attire- black slacks, a half-buttoned white collared shirt with the sleeves partially rolled up, and an undone black tie thrown loosely around his neck.

He looked disheveled and dapper all at once. Jayda never understood why he insisted on dressing like this in the city’s grimiest cesspool of drunks. He should be decked out in his finest suit, throwing extravagant balls on the top floor of his penthouse with all the money he collected from his business ventures, but instead he chose to spend his time here, surrounded by tipsy low lifes, breathing in the thick scent of musk, alcohol, and vomit. Jayda should have been surprised with his choice of scenery, but then again, nothing about Adrian was predictable. And after the intel she had just gathered? She was even more convinced of this.

When Jayda didn’t say anything, he spoke again. “Twenty seven is the highest this week. I would say I’m impressed, but at this point you keep exceeding everyone’s wildest expectations.” Adrian paused and flashed her another smile that again was not reciprocated. "The others have barely reached fifteen combined. You alone have managed to kill almost twice the amount they have struggled to wrangle up in a week’s time in just one day.”

Adrian placed the bottle down, having finished filling the glasses. In two long strides he was standing in front of Jayda, eyes filled with concern. Ever the actor. Don’t be fooled. He touched a long finger to her jaw, gently tracing it down to her chin. His touch was featherlight. Jayda felt her eyes flutter close for an instant. Adrian tilted her chin up until his gaze held hers. “Invaluable, you are. So forgive me if I want to celebrate that,” he said quietly.

Jayda curled her fingers into her palms to keep herself from pressing them against his neck. Bullshit. Why did he insist on feeding her lies? Adrian’s brows furrowed, his eyes flitting back and forth as they searched hers. In an instant she could feel the tension in the air around them thicken. His whole demeanor seemed to change.

“What did you do?” Adrian’s voice was deathly quiet. Something sinister settled in the gray of his eyes.

“What?” Jayda jerked back from his touch. What did she do?

“Any other day you would be falling at my heels for praise like this. As I said, something is off about you, Jayda. Just tell me what you did. We’ll deal with it together.”

Falling at his heels. Jayda bit back a scoff. Adrian was not wrong in saying that. She had been naive before, running around as his puppet with not a second thought about her own life.

“Nothing is ‘off’ about me,” Jayda all but spat at him. Adrian took a step back. “I don’t know what the hell it is you think I did, and I don’t know why you are even assuming I did anything wrong. Nothing happened. I am tired. Is that allowed?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “I’ll take that drink now.” Jayda stretched out her leg and nudged Adrian further from herself with her foot. Adrian shrugged, dropping his gaze. He walked back to retrieve the glasses.

“Don’t try to fool me. In some ways I think I know you better than you know yourself.” Adrian’s tone was not harsh or angry; it was soft and stern. It was the tone of a man who expected submission in every situation. He spoke, and things came to be. Contempt filled Jayda.

“I highly doubt that, Adrian.” She couldn’t keep this up. Fighting against her instinct to throttle him was proving to be impossible. She would tell him, and then what? Run for her life as he caught up to her with one stride of those long legs and sliced her in two with his blade? He wasn’t known as Elandar’s Strongest for nothing. His swordsmanship was unmatchable. Watching him with a sword felt like watching something sacred, something meant only for royal eyes. Killing was an art for him. Other artists painted with a wooden brush; Adrian painted with a steel blade.

Perhaps that is why the King of Elandar had called on Adrian to gather and train the city’s best and brightest to be bounty hunters, targeting His Majesty’s most wanted prey: dragons. Jayda was the best and brightest of the best and brightest, yet a duel between her and Adrian would be over in seconds, her fate dancing on the tip of his sword.

Still, the look on his face at her words might be worth that quick death.

Adrian was back in front of her, his arms outstretched in offering her her drink. Jayda moved to take it, but Adrian pulled his hand out of reach. His eyes were soft now, his eyebrows raised in question.

Jayda gritted her teeth. “Nothing is ‘off’ about me,” she repeated.

She plucked the glass out of his hand, draining it while never breaking eye contact. He still stood two inches from her, eyeing her skeptically. He left his drink untouched in his hand. In another world, maybe Jayda would have found this close proximity nice, comforting, alluring even. In another world her hand would rest against his cheek in a gentle caress instead of straining to slap him. She tightened her grip on her glass. Killers don’t get caresses. The bottom dropped out from her stomach. She didn’t exactly have any right to think that.

Jayda wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her jacket and pushed herself to the edge of the bartop. She never broke contact with those dark, dead eyes. They were so close. She thought she felt Adrian lean in the slightest bit. In another world, this night would end differently, both of them buzzing with the excitement of her highest kill count, of what the prospect of her accomplishments would mean for Elandar. Both of them would attempt to tame the wild fire in their eyes, tripping up the stairs after one too many drinks, stepping out of their roles, their responsibilities, for one night of bliss. Jayda willed her brain to shut off. Reality was much uglier than such a deluded fantasy.

Something Jayda couldn’t quite place her fingers on spread through her chest. She opened her mouth to speak only to be quickly interrupted by an aggressive cough.

Jayda and Adrian jumped apart, turning to the figure standing by the edge of the bar. Adrian’s eyes lit up. Jayda swore he seemed panicked for the slightest instant. But Adrian, nervous? Never.

“Ah, Lord Llath!” He bowed before the short, round man in front of them. “Good of you to come.”

Lord Llath stood with the authority of a general. His wide eyes were almost entirely hidden under bushy brown brows. He wore a neatly pressed suit, an overcoat, and a bowler hat. Llath’s face had a mousy, unkempt appearance, save for his mustache. Jayda peered closely at his upper lip. The hairs were so perfectly in line, it was as if he took the time out of his day to brush each singular strand. Jayda stifled a laugh. Adrian shot her a look.

Llath looked from Adrian to Jayda, his eyes lingering on Jayda. He took in her appearance. Compared to the impeccably dressed man in front of her, Jayda suddenly felt filthy. Whoreish even. Her black leather pants were ripped from her recent encounters, her boots filthy with blood and dirt, and her jacket did little to cover up the bloody stains on her gray top. Her chin-length hair was matted with mud and grime and again, blood. He stood stiffly. Jayda could sense he was displeased with her. Hot anger curled in the pit of her stomach as she met his eyes. Who was this odd, balding man to judge her appearance when he barely knew her? Llath quickly averted his gaze.

“Yes, yes, Adrian. It surprises me that you have so little faith in my punctuality that you think I would be late to an appointment I took the liberty of scheduling myself. Because, of course, you could not even be so kind as to do that.”

Adrian’s jaw twitched. Llath strode over to the nearest seat and heavily sat down. The nearest open seat, of course, happened to be the one closest to Jayda.

“Don’t just stand there. Get me a drink, boy,” Llath barked. He grunted as he attempted to fit his entire weight on the rather wobbly bar stool. “I traveled a great many miles just to be among your-” he waved to the raucous drunks behind him “-excellent company.”

Adrian walked off to pour Llath a glass of whiskey.

“So, pretty thing, you are the one the city speaks so highly of, huh?” Llath turned to Jayda, his eyes glinting. Jayda wanted to slap that oily look off his face.

“Yes, I am a pretty thing, aren’t I?” Jayda folded her hands underneath her chin, pointedly ignoring his question. She glanced over Llath’s shoulder at Adrian, who met her eyes in a warning. She flashed Llath an exaggerated smile.

Lord Llath huffed. “Keep this one in check, Adrian. She should know not to use that foul tone with the likes of me. Tell her, or I will have a word with the higher-ups.”

Jayda leaned closer to Llath’s face. She could see some sort of food stain on his chin. “You could just tell me yourself. I am sitting right here in front of you, anyway.” She leaned closer, lips purposely dragging against the top of his ear. Llath froze beneath her.

“Do not talk about me like I am a dog who needs a talking to from my owner. I could cut up that lovely belly of yours in a second.” Jayda whispered.

Llath grabbed Jayda's forearm, pressing hard. “Insolent girl,” he spat.

Jayda yanked her arm back, but his grip would not give. He smiled, showing straight lines of perfectly yellow teeth.

“Oh? Not having fun anymore are we?”

Jayda curled her other hand into a fist, ready to knock the man off his stool, but found she didn’t have to. Adrian was suddenly seizing Llath’s wrist, twisting it until his mustache twitched. “Hands off her, Llath,” Adrian breathed.

Llath dropped Jayda’s wrist. His fingers left bright red marks on her skin. Jayda shot him a fiery look and hopped off the bartop, going to lean against the wall instead.

“Okay.” Adrian cleared his throat, moving back behind the bar. He handed Llath his drink. “Now that we are all civil again, shall we talk about what you really came here for?”

Lord Llath’s face was red with anger still, little beads of sweat forming on his broad forehead.

“Yes, I believe we should. I would like to get out of this hell-hole as soon as possible,” Llath muttered. He drained his whiskey glass and set it down hard enough to crack it. He glared at Adrian. “Well, boy?! Fetch the report, let’s get this over with.”

Adrian retrieved a piece of paper stuck to the wall behind him. He handed it to Llath stiffly. Llath gave the paper a quick one-over, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows slowly inching towards his forehead.

“Is this a joke?” He shot Adrian a deathly look, his voice husky. Adrian crossed his arms. “Half your Hunters are barely scraping the minimum required to even keep their occupation. Lukius: Seven, Feron: Six, Ivis-” Llath paused, rereading the name on the list, his eyes alight with outrage. “Two? You are telling me you have a Hunter under your watch who struggles to kill more than two dragons a week?”

Two kills? Jayda hated to agree on any front with this man, but even she knew that was laughably low. Jayda glanced at Adrian. His expression was unreadable.

“It seems this one here,” Llath jerked a fat thumb at Jayda, “is the only one pulling in numbers worth reporting to His Majesty. 18 last week, 23 the week before, and this week’s count?” He looked up at Adrian.

“Twenty seven.” He answered calmly.

Llath’s eyebrows rose even further. Jayda could barely see them now.

“Well, I must say, the King will be very displeased. I can’t say I am even that surprised. I knew He was making a grave mistake when He plucked you out from this cesspool and made you, out of all the more qualified individuals, responsible for a task that you are clearly incapable of handling. He should have stuck to us nobler folk. You are clearly more suited to-” He waved his hand around. “-less attractive endeavors. The King will be very disappointed indeed.”

Adrian said nothing. His expression remained calm, collected. Almost uninterested. He busied himself with cleaning glasses with a rag.

Lord Llath pushed himself off his seat, brushing off his pants and adjusting his long coat. He stuffed the paper in his pocket. “Let me give you a piece of advice, boy. If you want to keep your job, keep her.”

Jayda snorted. “Well, Lord Lump, he is about to lose his job then because he can’t even manage to do that.”

Llath decided to ignore Jayda’s remark and grunted as he turned his back on them, retreating into the bustling crowd.

Jayda turned to Adrian, raising her eyebrows. “Well, that was something, was it not? I’m glad I could get my evening’s entertainment so soon.”

Adrian looked murderous. “What the hell, Jayda?” he spat.

“What?” Jayda batted her lashes at him.

“Cut the crap. What is going on with you today?”

“I really have no idea what you mean.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. "Look at me, and tell me what your problem is,” he said very slowly.

Something snapped in Jayda. Maybe it was the way he demanded without yelling, or the way he stood there clutching that stupid hand towel, pretending to honestly care about her problems.

“You ‘cut the crap,’ Adrian.”

“Me?” Jayda saw the confusion flash across his face. It was quickly replaced with an anger she had seldom seen. “Watch your tone.” He gathered the glasses and placed them in a rack behind him, his head lowered.

“Yes, Adrian dearest. You,” Jayda said quietly, words dripping with venom. “Drop this pretending act. I know about the deal.”

His head snapped up, his whole body visibly tensing. I’m not your docile dog anymore, asshat.

“Deal?” His voice was quiet. Not quite a whisper, but almost so. He kept his back turned to her. His hands gripped the edge of the countertop, knuckles whitening.

Jayda rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on her thighs to keep her fingers from shaking. This would mark the end of their time together. All those memories, all those years, all those slaughters. All that blood on her hands. It all led to this moment. What would she do now? Where would she go? She wasn’t even certain she’d find a place to sleep tonight, but she’d be damned before spending another night under his guard, within his reach. Of course her story ended in betrayal. She stared down at her hands and flexed her long, scarred fingers. Dark blue dragon blood stained her hands, extending in snowflake-like patterns, curling around her fingers as if to remind her of the permanence of her crimes.

“Don’t tell me you are growing attached to them. They are foul creatures, Jayda. You were hired to catch and kill them, nothing else,” Adrian hissed.

“And you were hired to kill me.” Jayda was surprised at how calm her voice sounded. Bored even. A rush of disgust hit her, followed closely by a weight that settled in her chest, a weight she knew too well. A weight that would never leave her.

A beat of silence passed. Adrian turned slowly. The air felt so heavy, Jayda swore each breath was pulling her lungs down. His eyes finally met hers, gradually darkening as the seconds passed.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re saying.” Adrian’s voice was so sinister, so sharp, so accusatory. Jayda fought to suppress a scowl. The nerve he had to be affronted after basically penciling in her death day on his calendar was comical. He had probably drawn a small party hat next to it, too: Jayda’s Dying Today (HOORAH!).

“I don’t know, I feel like overhearing someone talk so confidently about your imminent death is a bit difficult to misinterpret, no?”

In an instant Adrian was across the room, standing right in front of her. His long fingers closed in on her throat, not squeezing, just holding her still. He brought his face close, close enough that Jayda could smell mint on his breath. His other hand roughly grabbed both of hers, pinning them behind her back, flush against the hard stone wall. She tried to squirm but found it impossible under his deathly grip. She was sure her wrists would snap in two. Adrian peered at her through stormy eyes. He slowly traced a nail along the side of her neck, digging into her skin hard enough to leave a thin line of blood. A perfect souvenir from this intimate embrace.

“Why would I want to kill my best piece?” He whispered.

“That is what I have been asking myself,” Jayda said, her voice matching his hushed tone. She could see fire dancing around his irises. “Don’t play dumb. I know what I heard, Adrian. Out of your own damn mouth.”

Adrian tightened his grip the slightest bit. He leaned in closer, lips almost brushing her own. “And what, exactly, did you hear?”

Jayda tried to speak, but Adrian’s grip was growing tighter. She could feel the same black bruises she was meant to leave Adrian with forming on her skin.

Adrian leaned impossibly closer. “Hmm, Jayda?”

“‘Jayda will be-” Jayda coughed, drawing in a shaking breath. “-dead by-” She coughed again. Adrian loosened his grip by a fraction. “-sundown tomorrow. I’ll kill her myself.’” She saw recognition of his repeated words flicker across his face.

Adrian’s eyes found someone in the crowd behind her. He smirked.

“Not quite kill, darling. Something better.” He threw her into the crowd by her neck and turned on his heel. Jayda heaved, seeing stars. Her eyes followed Adrian’s back as he disappeared behind the bar.

The crowd consumed her, waves of sweaty bodies falling on top of her, pressing her against the wooden floor. She recognized Runo’s giant mass as he fell on her legs, crushing them. Jayda swore she was drowning. Her eyes desperately searched for an opening as the bodies pressed into her. This is what drowning alive feels like. Serves you right for all the lives you took.

Jayda gasped for air. She could barely breathe. At least he saved you the humiliation of stabbing you like a piece of meat.

Suddenly, a pair of strong, buff arms swooped Jayda up and out of the mosh pit. Jayda gasped in a breath of air that tasted a lot less like alcohol and sweat.

Jayda fell to her knees. “Holy-, thank you, thank you I-” She wheezed, all her limbs visibly shaking. Jayda turned her head to thank her savior when she felt rather than heard the click of something metal behind her. She raised her hands to defend herself from whatever threat it was, only to find them straining to move. No. She was cuffed.

“What the hell-” She screamed, only to be gagged a second later with a stained ball of fabric. Someone behind her slipped a black bag over her head, instantly blinding her.

A rough pair of hands pushed Jayda off her knees. The same calloused, sweaty hand grabbed the collar of her shirt from the back and held her in place. Am I really being kidnapped? Now?

Jayda thrashed about, her legs kicking wildly, though she knew the fight was useless. Everyone here was either drunk out of their mind or passed out. No one was sober enough to help, let alone understand what was going on. Screaming was useless too. The noise of the crowd would instantly smother her cries.

“You are sure this is the one? The Hunter that legends speak of?” A surly, accented voice spoke close to her ear. Legends? What in the world-

“She is the one the city sings praises to. She will sell for a very pretty price.” Another thick accented man chuckled beside her. “Oy, stop thrashing like a fish. Knock her out. We have a long journey ahead.”

Sell. Jayda’s ears were ringing. Not quite kill, darling. Something better. Jayda’s heart plummeted as her new reality sunk in.

She could not breathe, could not think, could not feel.

Adrian.

Adrian had sold her off.

Something solid hit the side of her head. A moment later, Jayda was swimming in darkness.