Soldier
Julie Kagawa
When forced to choose between safety with the dragon organisation Talon and being hunted forever as an outcast, Ember Hill chose to stand with Riley and his band of rogue dragons rather than become an assassin for Talon. She's lost any contact with her twin brother, Dante, a Talon devotee, as well as Garret, the former-enemy soldier who challenged her beliefs about her human side.As Ember and Riley hide and regroup to fight another day, Garret journeys alone to the United Kingdom, birthplace of the ancient and secret Order of St. George, to spy on his former brothers and uncover deadly and shocking secrets that will shake the foundations of dragons and dragon-slayers alike and place them all in imminent danger as Talon's new order rises.
Praise for internationally bestselling author (#ulink_c6114d71-75bf-58bd-b1b1-b54a5962dbc8)
JULIE KAGAWA (#ulink_c6114d71-75bf-58bd-b1b1-b54a5962dbc8)
‘Katniss Everdeen better watch out.’
—Huffington Post
‘Julie Kagawa is one killer storyteller.’
—MTV
‘A book that will keep its readers glued to the pages until the very end.’
—New York Journal of Books
‘Kagawa pulls her readers into a unique world of make-believe with her fantastic storytelling, and ultimately leaves them wanting more by the end of each book.’
—Times Record News
‘Kagawa has done the seemingly impossible and written a vampire book … that feels fresh in an otherwise crowded genre.’
—Kirkus Reviews
‘An intense and thought-provoking series.’
—School Library Journal
‘Surpasses the greater majority of dark fantasies.’
—teenreads.com
JULIE KAGAWA is the internationally bestselling author of the Iron Fey, Blood of Eden and The Talon Saga series. Born in Sacramento, she has been a bookseller and an animal trainer and enjoys reading, painting, playing in her garden and training in martial arts. She lives near Louisville, Kentucky, with her husband and a plethora of pets. Visit her at www.juliekagawa.com (http://www.juliekagawa.com).
Soldier
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR
Julie Kagawa
To Nick
Contents
Cover (#uf288aae4-c596-5a2f-a502-3a4f657398cd)
Praise (#ulink_13a67fae-6d75-5d1d-8631-3f0bb1f09fab)
About the Author (#uf4e3b805-02bf-5049-baa5-ded3df4e754b)
Title Page (#ue2b8f787-20a0-5258-b7f5-ce1fbdfeafb6)
Dedication (#u84ae1d18-c981-5fac-bc9d-d8577b120e83)
PART I: RECONNAISSANCE (#ulink_ddf989d1-ecbe-5204-b4d1-3d116f20eb9d)
GARRET (#ulink_01645b03-3069-5afa-93a5-0a81d63bd0a3)
EMBER (#ulink_2809e85a-6281-52ad-a2e1-efb6c2bec234)
RILEY (#ulink_e4136d70-390a-58d5-94db-82ff676b66a8)
DANTE (#ulink_30efda46-2c48-56aa-a780-992978e78586)
GARRET (#ulink_51fe3ad1-2db9-5638-8384-0a0736533162)
SEBASTIAN (#ulink_323515c7-156a-5adc-9324-9ea82f92f780)
EMBER (#ulink_5cf79f32-a251-566e-bde4-8b875dee546a)
GARRET (#ulink_a5a2b401-c0f5-59ab-a59a-a7e23151dea1)
EMBER (#ulink_de88bc4e-e89a-5f31-9181-912a6cda4857)
DANTE (#ulink_a4f133ab-8e87-59f6-8b6c-b85090bae086)
GARRET (#ulink_2987b571-0082-5d05-b3fc-b4e6e79224e8)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
DANTE (#litres_trial_promo)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
PART II: UNDER ONE BANNER (#litres_trial_promo)
SEBASTIAN (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
DANTE (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
DANTE (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
PART III: COVENANT (#litres_trial_promo)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
SEBASTIAN (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
DANTE (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
RILEY (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
GARRET (#litres_trial_promo)
EMBER (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
DANTE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PART I (#ulink_261f2208-8b09-57f6-9c26-8494fc55fda4)
RECONNAISSANCE (#ulink_261f2208-8b09-57f6-9c26-8494fc55fda4)
GARRET (#ulink_0b1b8359-9e32-5038-9e24-64078ee975c7)
The world was on fire.
Flames surrounded him, crackling in his ears, filling the air with heat and smoke. Coughing, the boy huddled in a corner the fire hadn’t reached yet, tears streaming painfully down his cheeks, burning his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was so hot; sweat poured off his small body and drenched his clothes. Gasping, he crawled toward an open closet on the far wall, wanting only to escape, to hide in the beckoning darkness and hope it all went away.
“Garret!”
A blurry form moved across his field of vision, and someone swept him off the floor. Instantly, he relaxed, burying his face in her neck as she clutched him tight. He was safe now. As long as she was here, he was safe.
“Hold on, baby,” she whispered above him, and he squeezed his eyes shut as she began to run. Heat pressed against his back and arms and scalded his bare legs, but he wasn’t afraid anymore. Somewhere close, he heard shouting and gunfire, but he didn’t care about that. Now that she had found him, everything would be okay.
A cool breeze hit his skin, and he peeked up from her shoulder. They had left the building; he could see it burning behind him, orange-and-red tongues of fire snapping overhead. The shooting and screaming got closer, and a couple people went rushing past them, toward the noise and the chaos. A deafening boom rocked the earth behind them, and he flinched.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, stroking his hair. He could feel her heartbeat, thudding rapidly against his chest as she staggered down the road. “It’s okay, Garret, we’re okay. We just have to find Daddy and—”
There was a roar above them. He looked up just as something huge and terrifying swooped down on black leathery wings, and the world cut out like a light.
* * *
“Ladies and gentlemen, at this time we’re beginning our descent into Heathrow Airport. Please return to your seats and make sure your seat belts are securely fastened.”
As the captain’s voice drifted over the intercom, I opened my eyes and blinked as the plane came into focus. The aisle was dim, with only a few reading lights shining here and there. Outside the window, a faint pink glow had crept over the distant horizon, staining the clouds below it red. Most everyone was asleep, including the elderly woman in the seat beside mine. The engines droned in my ears as I yawned and shook my head. Had I dozed off? That wasn’t like me, even on a ten-hour flight over the Atlantic Ocean.
The remnants of a dream lingered in my mind, familiar and disturbing at the same time. Heat and smoke, fire and gunshots, a woman carrying me to safety, the roar of a dragon in my ears. I’d had this nightmare before; for years my sleep had been plagued with death and flames and, above all, dragons. The frequency of the nightmares had faded with time, but every so often, I’d be right back in that burning room as a four-year-old, a woman I no longer remembered carrying me to safety, the screams of dying men echoing all around us.
And my first glimpse of the monster I’d soon dedicate my whole life to fighting, descending on us with a roar. That was where the dream, and the memory, ended. How I’d escaped certain fiery death, no one really knew. The Order had told me I’d repressed that memory; that it wasn’t uncommon in children who’d experienced something traumatic. They’d said I didn’t speak for three days after they’d rescued me.
I supposed there were few things more traumatic than watching your mother die in the jaws of a dragon.
I leaned back in my seat and gazed out the window. Far, far below, I could see glimmers of light where a few hours ago there had been nothing but darkness. I’d be happy to get on the ground again, to be able to move around instead of sitting in a tiny cramped space surrounded by strangers. The woman beside me had talked nonstop at the beginning of the flight, saying I reminded her of her grandson, showing me pictures of her various family members, lamenting that they never visited anymore. When the pictures had run out, she’d started asking questions about me, how old was I, where were my parents, was I traveling overseas all by myself, until I put in earbuds and feigned sleep in self-defense. I’d heard her mutter “poor dear” before she’d dug a crossword book out of her purse and scribbled in silence until she dozed off. I’d been careful not to wake her while she slept and to appear engaged in other things when she was awake, on the long, long flight across the Atlantic.
The plane shuddered as it hit a patch of rough air, and the woman beside me muttered but didn’t open her eyes. Leaning my head against the window, I watched the lights scroll past hundreds of feet below. Do dragons ever fly this high? my tired mind wondered.
My thoughts drifted. Another dragon appeared in my head, crimson red instead of black, bright and cheerful instead of murderous. Pain flickered, and I shoved it away, willing myself to forget, to feel nothing. She was no longer part of my life; the girl with the quick smile and brilliant green eyes, who had made me feel things I’d never thought possible... I would never see her again. I didn’t hate her; I wasn’t even that angry. How could I be, when she had saved my life, when she had showed me so much, including how wrong the Order was? I’d spent my life slaughtering her kind, and she had responded by befriending me, saving me from execution and fighting at my side against Talon and St. George.
But she was a dragon, and when I’d finally confessed my feelings and confronted her about her own, she’d balked. Admitted she wasn’t sure if dragons could feel that way, that they weren’t supposed to feel human emotion. And that her pull toward Riley, a fellow dragon who’d set his sights on her, couldn’t be ignored any longer.
I’d realized then, how futile it was. Loving a dragon. It had been easy to overlook her true nature, to just see the girl. I’d never forgotten what she was, especially when she Shifted into her true form and I was reminded of how powerful, savage and dangerous dragons could be. But it was more complicated than that. Hovering in the back of my mind, constantly plaguing me, was the knowledge that, even if Ember could return my feelings, she would outlive me by hundreds of years. We had no future together; we were two different species, and there was a war raging on both sides that would stop at nothing to destroy us. Even if I could love both the girl and the dragon, what kind of life would I—a former soldier of St. George—be able to give her? I didn’t even have a future for myself.
Resolve settled over me. It was better that I’d left; now she could be with her own kind, as it should be. She was with Riley and his rogue dragons. Their lives would be dangerous, constantly running from Talon and St. George, but Ember was stubborn and resourceful, and Riley had been outsmarting both Talon and St. George for a long time. They didn’t need me. Ember Hill, the dragon I’d fallen in love with, would do just fine.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are making our final descent into Heathrow Airport,” the intercom droned again. “Please put away all laptops and large electronic devices and make sure your seat trays are in the upright and locked position. We’ll be landing in about fifteen minutes.”
The lady beside me woke with a snort and gazed blearily around. Taking her neck pillow off her shoulders, she turned to me with a smile.
“We made it,” she announced, as I smiled stiffly back. “It’ll be so nice to get up and walk around, won’t it? I swear, these flights get longer and longer. Where in London are you headed after this, dear?”
“Knightsbridge,” I lied. “I have friends there. I’ll be staying with them for a couple weeks.”
She bobbed her gray head. “Well, make sure they take you to see the sights. London is a wonderful city. Are you planning to visit Buckingham Palace or Westminster Abbey?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am.”
“Oh, well, you have to go to Buckingham! Can’t visit London without seeing the palace.” And she launched into a lecture on all the popular tourist places I should go to, the ones I should avoid, the hidden “treasures” around the city, and she didn’t stop talking until the plane had landed and we had filed out into the bustle of Heathrow Airport.
* * *
I watched the city of London roll by under the streetlamps as the cab took me to a small hotel in South Kensington, about a mile from Hyde Park. As we passed an old church, a flutter of white overhead caught my eye. The flag of St. George, a red cross on a background of white, flew prominently in the wind, and the uneasiness that had somewhat faded on the plane returned with a vengeance.
I had arrived. In London. The Order’s largest and most influential territory. Though I’d been to the city only once, I could be sure of one thing: I would find no dragons here, or in any of the surrounding towns. St. George’s presence in the city was huge and obvious. The Order’s symbol, the red cross on a white shield, was everywhere throughout London, on signs and churches and building walls. Though St. George was the patron saint of England itself, and we shared his flag with the rest of the country, the message to Talon was very clear: no dragons allowed.
It was dangerous for me to be here. I knew that. The Order was looking for me, and if I was recognized, I’d never make it out of the city. Thankfully, most of St. George’s soldiers and armed forces were housed elsewhere, as England’s laws on weapons and firearms were very strict. But the Patriarch, the head of the Order itself, ruled from London with the rest of the council and oversaw all of St. George’s activities. If he discovered I was here, I’d have the whole of the Order on my back in a heartbeat.
But he was also the reason I’d come, the reason I was looking for answers. How much did he and the council really know about Talon? Did they truly not know about the rogues, the dragons who wanted nothing to do with the organization and the war? I couldn’t believe they were that ignorant, that they had been ignorant for so long. St. George knew something, and if the Order was keeping secrets, I needed to find them. I had killed dozens—dragons and humans alike—because the Order told me I was protecting the world. I owed it to those lives, to all the innocents I might’ve killed, to discover the truth.
At the hotel, I checked in, tossed my single bag on the bed and, even though I’d been traveling for more than ten hours straight, pulled out my burner phone and called the number I had memorized before I left the States.
As the phone rang, I checked my watch. It was 6:32 a.m. London time; early, but he knew I would be calling once I’d landed. Still, I counted seven rings before there was a click, and a gruff voice sounded on the other end.
“Yeah?”
“I’m here,” I said quietly.
He grunted. “No trouble with the Order?”
“None.”
“Good. I’d lie low if I were you. Though you really shouldn’t be here at all.” There was a snort, and I imagined him shaking his head. “Stubborn bastard. I still think you’re insane, Sebastian, coming here while the Order has a price on your head.”
I gave a faint smile. “This is the last place they’ll think to look for me.”
“Doesn’t mean you should push your luck, mate.”
“I need your help, Andrew,” I went on. “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important. But if you can’t see me, if you think it’s too dangerous, you can walk away.”
“Oh, piss off,” Andrew growled. “Like I’m going to turn in the guy who saved my life.” He sighed. “But we do need to be cautious. The Order literally has eyes everywhere. If they see us together, we’re both dead.”
“When is a good time to meet?”
“Today,” was the reply. “This afternoon, twelve o’ clock. I’ll text you the address now.”
“Roger that.”
I hung up, double-checked my door to make sure it was locked and finally stretched out on my bed and stared at the ceiling. My eyes felt heavy, but I needed to stay awake, both for the impending meeting and because the jet lag would kill my internal clock. I wished I had a pistol or even a knife, but smuggling either onto a commercial airline wasn’t possible. I’d have to get by without a weapon, for now, anyway. There was a bolt and a chain on the door; if anyone was going to break into my room to kill me, at least I’d have a little warning.
All right, St. George. I’m here. What haven’t you been telling us? And is it going to destroy the last bit of faith I have in the Order’s ideals? Will I discover that you are just as soulless and corrupt as Talon?
I almost didn’t want to know the answer.
EMBER (#ulink_3a68b5fb-d6c0-5370-9fdf-91377ce82ad8)
On three, Riley mouthed, gazing at me from the other side of the door frame. I nodded, feeling my muscles tense as we stared at the peeling white door with the gold 14 near the top, hearing sounds of a television through the wood. My dragon growled and stirred, sensing violence, and I narrowed my eyes. Riley took a deep breath and raised the pistol he’d kept hidden under his leather jacket. One...two...three!
He drove his boot into the wood, kicking it right beside the brass knob, and the door flew open with a crash. I lunged inside, Riley right behind me, sweeping the pistol around the hotel room. It was small and dirty, an unmade bed in the corner, the television blaring away...but the room itself was empty.
“Dammit!” Riley lowered the gun, glaring around the abandoned space. “Gone again. We probably just missed the slimy bastard.” Scowling, he yanked his phone out of his pocket, pressed a button and put it to his ear. “Wes, he’s already gone.” Pause. “I don’t know how he knew—it’s Griffin! When was he not a paranoid cockroach?” He sighed. “Right. Heading back now. Call me if there’s an emergency.”
I exhaled slowly, letting the dragon and her hope for retribution settle back reluctantly. “Now what?” I asked Riley, who snorted.
“Back to square one, unfortunately. Wes will track him down again, see where the bastard has gone to hide next. But it could take time, and we’re running out of it. Dammit.” He punched the wall, causing a hollow boom to echo through the hallway. “So close. Well, come on, Firebrand. Before the cops show up, let’s see if he left anything behind. Any hints as to where he’s gone now.”
We quickly searched the room, but despite it being a dump, Griffin hadn’t left anything that could be traced back to him, not even a crumpled receipt.
“He probably paid with cash,” Riley growled, after emptying the trash bins, looking under the bed and rummaging through the bathroom yielded nothing. “And covered his tracks really well. Damn him. Looks like he cleared out in a hurry—he knows we’re onto him.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know what’s more irritating—that he’s being a giant pain in the ass, or that he’s so good at it because I’m the one who taught him.”
“He’ll make a mistake,” I said. “Just like last time. Wes will catch it when he does. He can’t run forever.”
“You don’t know Griffin,” Riley muttered. “But, yeah, I guess you’re right.” He shook his head. “Anyway, there’s nothing here and nothing we can do now. Let’s head back.”
I followed him out the door, back down the hall to the parking lot. A dented black Mustang with tinted windows sat in a corner space, and Riley wrenched open the door, slid inside and slammed it so hard, the car shook.
I sat down and closed my door with a little less force, then watched Riley gun the engine to life before squealing out of the hotel lot. Light from the streetlamps slid over his angry face, his jaw set, gaze glued to the windshield. Leaning back in the faux leather seat, I sighed and looked out the window. Another small Midwestern town, ordinary and indistinctive, sat beyond the glass. We’d been through so many lately, I didn’t even remember its name.
I understood Riley’s frustration. The human we were chasing, Griffin Walker, had been one of Riley’s contacts before we discovered he’d been feeding information to both Talon and St. George on the sly. Griffin was the traitor, the mole in the rogue’s network. In Las Vegas, he had sold us out to Talon, and we’d nearly been killed because of it. But worse, because of him, all of Riley’s safe houses, all the hatchlings he’d gotten out of Talon, could be in danger. We had to find him and discover what he knew and how much he had leaked to the organization. But catching one human on the run was proving more difficult than we could have imagined. This was the second time in nearly a month that we’d gotten close, only to have our elusive quarry disappear yet again.
It was beyond infuriating, but at the same time, it kept my mind off...other things. Issues I didn’t want to deal with right now. I was so busy helping Riley track down Griffin, I didn’t have time or the energy to dwell on anything else. And Riley was determined to save his underground, to keep his network safe and his hatchlings away from Talon; he was consumed with finding the traitor that had sold us out to Talon and St. George. In the days following Las Vegas, we’d barely spoken to each other about anything non-Griffin or Talon related, which was both a relief and a disappointment. If we slowed down at all I would start to remember...certain people, and I wasn’t ready to face that, yet.
Back at our own hotel, we went straight to Wes’s room and locked the bolt behind us. The human sat hunched over his laptop on the corner desk, the same position we had left him in hours earlier. He gave us a weary look as we came in and shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said before Riley could ask. “No phone calls, no new credit card transactions, bloody nothing. Trail’s gone cold, mate. Griffin is officially off the radar.”
“Dammit,” Riley growled, stalking forward. “Slimy, slippery bastard. Keep looking,” he ordered, and Wes turned back to the computer with a sigh. “We were that close, Wes. We can’t let him sneak away now.”
Rubbing my eyes, I turned away, knowing Riley and Wes would be working for a couple hours at least. Wes practically lived in front of a screen, and Riley’s anger would keep him going, but this constant breakneck pace was starting to get to me. “All right, you two have fun,” I said, moving toward the door. “I’m going to crash until you need me.”
Riley looked back, gold eyes solemn as they met mine. For a moment, my dragon stirred, her gaze almost challenging as we stared at each other. Daring Riley—no, daring Cobalt—to come out and face her. He wouldn’t, and we both knew it; Riley certainly would not risk exposure by Shifting into his true form when there was no need. But my dragon instincts still hoped he would. Riley hesitated, as if he was about to say something, but then Wes muttered at him and he turned away.
“Get some rest while you can, Firebrand,” he murmured, bending down again. “We’ll probably be leaving in a few hours.”
Without answering, I retreated to my room across the hall, went to the bathroom and stripped out of my clothes. Including the black Viper suit, which I dropped unceremoniously on the floor. It slithered to the tile in a spill of rippling black fabric, and I wrinkled my nose at it before stepping into the shower.
The near-scalding water hit my skin, and I sighed, closing my eyes as the steam rose around me. We’d come so close tonight. So close to being done with this crazy search, to discovering what information Griffin was leaking to Talon and putting a cap on it for good. I had no doubt we’d find him, sooner or later. No one could hide from Wes for long, and if you dared screw around with Riley’s hatchlings and safe houses, well, good luck to you. I wouldn’t call Riley obsessive, but he was certainly unyielding and determined, and his underground was everything to him. Plus, he could be a teensy bit on the vengeful side.
After shutting off the water, I toweled, dressed quickly and wandered into my empty room, flipping on the television out of habit. Noise was welcome. Silence was depressing and kind of lonely. Worse, in the total silence, my thoughts went places I didn’t want them to go. Memories that were still too raw, too painful, to shine a light on. People whose absence was a great yawning emptiness in the pit of my stomach, or whose betrayal made it feel like a mirror had shattered within and the shards were cutting me up from inside.
Flopping onto the bed, I turned to some random action movie and cranked up the volume, trying to drown out my thoughts. Focus, I told myself, watching some guy in a sports car speed down narrow streets, knocking over trash cans and barely missing passersby. There were more important things to worry about than my own jumbled emotions. I wasn’t a normal hatchling anymore, whose only concerns were having fun, fitting in and doing what the organization told me to do. I was a rogue, part of Riley’s underground and probably Talon’s most-wanted dragon next to Cobalt himself. Vegas had shown me exactly what the organization was capable of. If I didn’t take things seriously, more people, and more dragons, would die.
A soft tap on the door made me look up. “Firebrand,” came a familiar voice through the wood, and my dragon perked at the sound. “You still up?”
Pushing her down, I swung off the bed, crossed the room and opened the door. Riley stood on the other side, hands in his jacket pockets, dark hair hanging in his eyes. He looked tired, though his mouth curled into a faint smile when he saw me.
“Hey,” he greeted in a quiet voice. “I...uh, wanted to talk to you before you crashed. Okay if I come in for a second?”
I shrugged and moved aside, even as my insides began a crazy swirling dance, sending heat rushing through me. “Did Wes find anything on Griffin?” I asked, reminding myself to stay on topic.
Riley shook his head. “No, nothing yet. But that’s not why I’m here.” Keeping his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the wall, watching me with solemn gold eyes. I perched on the edge of the mattress, facing him. “I’m worried about you, Firebrand,” Riley said. “Ever since we left Vegas, you haven’t been yourself.”
I forced a grin. “What should I be?” I asked, and he sighed.
“I don’t know. More...talkative? Stubborn?” He shrugged, looking frustrated and at a loss. “You haven’t really talked to me since we left Vegas. And everything I say, no matter what, you just...agree with. It’s disconcerting.”
“You want me to argue with you?”
“At this point? Yes.” Riley frowned, raking his hair back. “Argue with me. Tell me I’m wrong. Say something, anything! I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore, Ember. I know it hasn’t been easy for you, with Dante in Talon and—”
“I’m just trying to pull my weight here,” I interrupted, before he could go any further. He blinked, and I pushed back the anger and grief that rose up whenever I heard my brother’s name. “I don’t want to slow you down. I know what’s at stake. How important this is, for all of us.” His brows furrowed, and I shrugged, looking over at the television. “I’m a rogue, now,” I said. “No more playing around. No more sneaking off, or being distracted by human things. I’m going to have to learn to shoot and fight and...kill, or more of us are going to die.” My mind flickered to the image of a small purple dragon, sprawled on the cement floor of a warehouse, gold eyes staring up at nothing, before I shoved the memory down.
“So...yeah.” I looked back at Riley. “I’m taking this seriously. Which means following your lead, and concentrating on the mission. Nothing else matters.”
“Ember...” Riley sounded even more weary all of a sudden. Pushing himself off the wall, he stepped in front of me, his expression almost sad. “That doesn’t mean I want you to lose yourself completely,” he said, as I gazed up at him. “Don’t let this life break you. You’re young. You have a very, very long existence ahead. No, I don’t want you sneaking out or throwing crazy parties in the middle of the night, but it can’t be war and fighting every second of every day. You’ll burn out before you hit Juvenile. Or you’ll get so bitter and angry, you might do something really crazy.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a wry grin, then he sobered once more. I didn’t smile back, and he eased closer—close enough for me to smell his leather jacket, to feel the subtle heat that pulsed beneath his skin.
“I don’t want you to hate being here, Firebrand,” he went on. “I don’t want you to regret going rogue. I know I’ve been distracted, but I want you to know you can come to me for anything. Don’t think you have to go through this alone. Trust me, I have been through everything you can imagine.” He snorted. “Just ask Wes. He can tell you horror stories.”
My heart beat faster. Having him this near made my back itch and my skin feel tight from wanting to Shift so bad. Riley hesitated, as if just realizing how close we were, but he didn’t move away. I looked up at him and saw Cobalt’s intense, golden gaze peering down at me.
For a moment, we teetered on the edge, both dragons close to the surface, waiting for the other to make a move. But then Riley’s gaze darkened and he stepped away, breaking eye contact.
“You should get some sleep,” he said, as my dragon growled with frustration and disappointment. “It’s been a long day, and we’ll want an early start tomorrow. I’ll come wake you when we’re ready to go.”
“Riley!”
A sharp rap made us jump. Riley drew back, looking almost relieved, and strode quickly to the door. Pulling it open, he glared out at Wes. “Did you find him?”
“Not quite, mate.” Wes spared me a quick glance and narrowed his eyes, before turning to Riley again. “But you’ll want to see this. Griffin contacted us. I just got a message from the slimy bastard.”
“Where is he?”
“No clue.” Wes shrugged. “But he wants to meet us soon, face-to-face. Said he wants to make a deal. That he has information he’s willing to trade...for protection.”
Riley scowled. “Protection? What makes him think that I would...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Dammit,” he breathed. “Talon. Talon is after him, too. He wouldn’t have contacted us if he wasn’t freaking out.”
“Yeah.” Wes nodded, a grim smile crossing his narrow face. “That’s what I’d guess. And under normal circumstances I would say to hell with the two-faced cockroach—he can reap what he’s sowed. Let a Viper chase him around for a change of pace. But...”
“But we need whatever information he might have,” Riley growled. “And we can’t let Talon learn what he knows.” He raked a hand through his hair and glared at Wes. “What does Griffin want us to do?”
“Says he’ll contact us with a meeting place if we agree to his terms,” Wes replied, making a sour face. “Terms being that we won’t kick his ass when we find him, and that we provide him with a safe place to hide for as long as he needs it.”
Riley growled again, clenching a fist. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t risk losing any more safe houses, and I can’t let Talon get their claws on Griffin. He knows too much about us.” He gave Wes a brisk nod. “Contact Griffin. Let him know we agree to his terms. Tell him to try not to get himself killed by a Viper before we can reach him.”
Wes nodded and ducked out of the room, and Riley looked back at me. The moment was gone; Cobalt had disappeared, and it was just Riley again.
“Sorry, Firebrand,” he said, taking a step toward the door. “I should probably be there when Griffin contacts us again. Will you be all right?”
I nodded. “I’ll be here,” I said simply, and he went, striding into the hall after Wes and closing the door behind him.
For a moment, I stared after him, a heavy weight settling over me. I knew, logically, that Riley was distracted. Finding Griffin and keeping his underground safe was foremost on his mind, as it should be. Rationally, I accepted that.
But at the same time, I wondered if Riley’s feelings toward me had changed. There had been no hints or clues of what he wanted from me, if he even wanted me anymore. Now that I thought about it, whenever we were alone—either in the car or in the hotel room—he was careful to keep his distance. To not get too close. Tonight was a good example. There had been something between us—we’d both felt it...but he had backed off. Had he forgotten his promise of a few short weeks ago? Or had I been a fleeting distraction that he’d gotten over?
I hopped up, threw the lock and returned to the bed. The dragon still writhed and squirmed inside, making it hard to relax. Sleep would probably be impossible tonight, as it had been most nights since we left Vegas. I was exhausted, but my brain just wouldn’t shut off. When I did sleep, the dreams were waiting. Being chased through tight quarters by humans with guns, skinned dragon hides hanging on the walls and Lilith appearing every so often to taunt me. Or urging me to turn and slaughter everything in sight. I’d wake up covered in sweat, my blood roaring in my ears, while the echoes of screams and gunfire faded into the darkness.
But those dreams weren’t the worst. The worst dreams were the ones when, cornered and trapped, I’d spin around to finally face my pursuers...and it was Dante who appeared from the shadows, green eyes hard as he came into the light. Or sometimes it wasn’t Dante, but a human with short blond hair and metallic-gray eyes, staring me down over the muzzle of a gun. Once or twice, it was a girl, delicate and pale, her dark curls tumbling down her shoulders as she stepped forward. Sometimes we spoke, though I could never recall the conversations. Sometimes they ended with an apology, sometimes with a gunshot that jerked me awake and sent my heart racing. But more than a few times, I would find myself in dragon form, wondering what had happened, and there would be a charred, blackened body sprawled on the cement. I wouldn’t recognize it at first, didn’t know what I was looking at, until its eyes opened—black or green or metallic-gray—and it would whisper a single word.
Why?
Those were the dreams where I’d wake gasping, my eyes blurry and hot. Those were the images that kept me from going back to sleep, where I’d turn on the television and all the lights and try to forget everything until morning.
Riley didn’t know about the nightmares. He was too busy with the hunt and keeping his network safe. Sometimes, I thought Wes suspected something, the way he looked at me when I joined them in the mornings, his taciturn face almost worried. But I couldn’t break down. It was just the three of us, now: me, Riley and Wes. Riley needed an equal partner, someone he could count on, not some kid he had to worry about. I had to focus on what was important. I couldn’t let any more of us die.
My stomach throbbed, a constant, low-grade ache from the stress of not Shifting. I could still feel Riley’s touch, the heat in his gaze when our eyes met. My dragon side wanted him; it was obvious now that I couldn’t ignore those instincts. But, at the same time, I still thought of him constantly. Where was he? What was he doing right now? The more I tried to forget, the more he returned to haunt me, making me realize that I’d made a mistake.
I missed the soldier.
Frowning, I straightened on the pillows. You can’t think like that, Ember, I scolded myself. He’s gone, and it’s better that way. He’s human. You’re a dragon. It would have never worked. Let him go.
My throat felt tight, and I breathed deep, banishing the last of the memories, at least for now. Griffin would contact us soon, and Riley would probably want to move out as soon as he did. Not much time for sleep, but I wasn’t going to get a lot, anyway.
Grabbing the remote, I turned up the volume of the television and leaned back against the headboard. Who needed sleep when you could watch car chases and random explosions all night? Settling into the pillow nest, I let my eyes unfocus and my mind go blank, as revving engines and Hollywood drama replaced reality for a little while.
RILEY (#ulink_85e250c1-f4ba-55cb-b407-b703677764dd)
“Riley,” Wes said, sounding impatient. “Did you hear what I just told you, mate?”
“Huh?” I turned back from the door to face my partner’s annoyed glare. “Sorry, Wes. What?”
He huffed. “I said that if Griffin is in trouble with Talon, we’re going to have to be bloody careful ourselves. For all we know, this could be another brilliant trap we’re walking into. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to set us up again.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I know.” I scratched my chin, frowning. “But we don’t have much choice. Who knows what kind of information he has now.”
“Bloody hell,” Wes growled. “For a computer illiterate, the blighter certainly can get his hands on a lot of intel.”
I shrugged. “He’s been at this a long time, Wes, almost as long as us. He was a slimy little toad even before we met.” Back then, Griffin had worked as a liaison for Talon, infiltrating companies they wanted to acquire, learning everything he could—their policies, financials and dirty laundry—even turning a few of their own employees against them. All to set up Talon’s hostile takeover.
But Griffin’s talent for acquiring information eventually got him into trouble. As his web of contacts grew and the secrets he uncovered got bigger and bigger, Talon had decided that he knew a little too much. Through his contacts, Griffin had learned of his impending “retirement,” and that was when he’d reached out to me. The deal was simple: if I helped him get out of Talon and taught him to stay off their radar, he would give me what he knew about the organization. The trade had sounded fair, and the info he’d offered had seemed too good to pass up, so I’d accepted.
“Too bad you didn’t know what a two-faced bastard he was before you let him into our operations,” Wes muttered. “I never liked him, Riley, have I mentioned that? I thought he was shady from the start.”
“You have mentioned that one or sixty times, yes.” I glanced back at the door, wondering what Ember was doing now. “After Griffin contacts us,” I told Wes, “turn off the damn laptop and get some sleep. You’re running on Red Bull and Mountain Dew fumes right now, and we could all use a couple hours rest.”
Wes leaned away from the laptop with a slight frown. “That’s not like you, Riley. I was expecting to be halfway out the door as soon as we heard from him.”
“I would be, but Ember needs the break. She’s tired, and this constant running around isn’t helping. I thought I’d give her at least a few hours’ sleep before we start again.”
“She’s not sleeping, mate,” Wes said quietly, still staring at me. I frowned at him.
“What are you talking about?”
Wes’s gaze darkened. “You haven’t noticed? Bloody hell, Riley. Have you really looked at the girl lately? She’s more than tired—she’s bloody exhausted. She sleepwalks through half our conversations. I go into the hall at three in the morning, and her light is still on and the television is blaring away.” Wes shook his head at me. “I doubt she’s getting more than a couple hours of sleep a night, and a tired dragon is a ticking time bomb. She’s going to explode, unless you can get to the bottom of what’s eating her.”
Slightly dazed, I leaned against the bed frame, thinking back over the past couple weeks. I’d noticed Ember had gotten quieter, but hadn’t confronted her about it until tonight. She’d been withdrawn for several days, and that worried me, but I’d assumed it was the frantic pace we were setting—the strain of the hunt—that was getting to her. Recently, she’d grown snappish and irritable, snarling at Wes whenever he made one of his “Wes comments.” I knew she was tired. I hadn’t known she wasn’t getting any sleep at all.
This was bad. Exhausted dragons were more than irritable and cranky, we could be downright dangerous as our control slipped and our baser instincts rose to the surface. Poking a tired dragon was an excellent way to get yourself burned.
“What do you think is bothering her?” I asked Wes. “I talked to her tonight, but I didn’t get a clear answer. Just that she doesn’t want to slow us down, but I know that can’t be the whole story.”
Wes rolled his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know, mate. We haven’t been doing anything stressful lately, have we?” Shaking his head, he leaned back and began ticking things off on his fingers. “Let’s see. In the past few weeks, she was shot, we were ambushed by St. George, you got kidnapped by Talon, your bloody hatchling had to fight Lilith’s murderous Viper student...” Wes grimaced. “Take your pick, mate. She’s not a soldier. She didn’t have years of training like you. Bloody hell, Riley, a couple weeks ago she killed a human for the first time and watched another dragon get murdered in front of her. What do you think that’s doing to her head right now?”
“Shit.” I stabbed a hand through my hair. What was wrong with me? We had been running and fighting nonstop ever since we left Crescent Beach. Ember had seen nothing but constant battles, blood and death. I was desensitized to it, but she had killed for the very first time in her life. Of course it would be getting to her.
I was about to turn around and stalk back to her room when the laptop chimed. Wes looked down, tapped a few keys and scowled.
“It’s Griffin. He’s got a meeting place for us.”
Rage flickered again, and I swallowed the growl crawling up my throat. For the sake of my underground, I would play nice with the backstabbing traitor and not rip his throat out through his teeth, but I wasn’t going to be happy about it. “Where?”
“Tomorrow evening. Louisiana?” Wes squinted at the screen and groaned. “Oh, bloody hell. He’s in New Orleans.”
DANTE (#ulink_934a91a6-c17e-5403-b649-c9949c8b8e8e)
I finished cleaning out my desk and closed the box, then left it on the corner for a worker to take down to the car. Not even a month in, and I’m already packing up my office, I thought, walking to the window for a final view of the Los Angeles cityscape below. At least I’m moving in the right direction: up. Or, I hope I am, anyway. Per normal, Mr. Roth hadn’t given me any real details. Only that I was being moved to another “project” that would make better use of my talents. I could only imagine what Talon wanted me to do now. Especially after the fiasco with Mist and Faith, and the unsuccessful attempt to return Ember to the organization.
Ember, I thought, staring through the glass. The open sky beckoned enticingly beyond the pane, but it never called to me the way that it did her. Where are you? Why couldn’t you just do what Talon asked? Now you’ve forced their hand. You’ve chosen to stay with that rogue, which the organization can’t ignore, and I might not be there to protect you this time.
“Ah, Mr. Hill. Are you ready?”
I turned. Mr. Roth had entered the room, trailed by a skinny, younger human who immediately walked to my desk, picked up the box and left without making eye contact with either of us. The senior dragon didn’t spare the human a single glance but smiled brightly at me, though as always, the smile never quite reached his eyes.
“Exciting, isn’t it?” Mr. Roth said, clasping his hands in front of him. “New location, new assignment, another opportunity to advance. You must be pleased that the organization is taking such an interest in you, Mr. Hill. Not many are afforded such a privilege.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, because I was pleased. I was happy that Talon had noticed me, that despite the mission to retrieve Ember not having the desired results, the part I had played had proved my worth to the organization. But something still nagged at me, despite my best attempts to quell it. “I did have a question, sir,” I ventured, and Mr. Roth arched one slender eyebrow. “What of my sister? She’s still out there, with Cobalt. What does Talon intend to do about her?”
Mr. Roth’s eyes glittered coldly, though his smile remained in place. “You needn’t worry about your sister, Mr. Hill,” he said. “Plans are in place to find and return her to Talon, though you must understand, she is a rogue and criminal in the eyes of the organization. We will take every opportunity to detain her without harm, but you saw the lengths to which she was willing to go to evade us. The last time we attempted contact with Ember Hill, an agent died. We cannot afford to have that happen again.”
His tone hadn’t changed; it was still calm and informative, but an edge had crept into his voice, and I felt a chill slide up my back at the reminder. One of Talon’s agents, a young Viper named Faith, had been dispatched to bring Ember back to the organization. Faith’s job was to get close to Ember, earn her trust and, when the time was right, persuade her to return to Talon. It had been a good plan; Faith and a second agent named Mist had been able to infiltrate Cobalt’s hideout, and neither Ember nor the rogue had suspected anything. But something had gone terribly wrong, for when it was over, Faith was dead, the mission was in shambles and Ember had disappeared again.
Mist, I’d later discovered, was alive, though she had also failed in her mission to extract certain information from Cobalt. She’d returned to Talon quietly and was immediately reassigned, though I had no idea where. I hadn’t seen her since the day she’d left for the mission.
“Your sister is no longer your responsibility, Mr. Hill,” Mr. Roth continued. “Rest assured, we will find her. Trust that Talon has her best interests at heart, and will take every precaution to return Ms. Hill alive and unharmed. But you have another role now. Another project that requires your skill and talents. We hope you will make it your top priority.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, hearing the subtle threat beneath the words. “Of course. I was simply confirming that I can put my sister from my mind and focus on what I need to do.”
I kept the confident smile on my face in front of Mr. Roth, but guilt gnawed at me. Ember had always been my responsibility. I’d looked after us both for so long, cleaning up Ember’s messes, covering for her, getting her out of trouble time and time again. I would never admit it to Talon, but it was partially my fault that she had gone rogue back in Crescent Beach. Maybe if I’d kept a better eye on her, paid more attention, I could have stopped my sister from falling in with Cobalt and throwing away her future.
I’d tried to help her. I’d done all I could to return her to the organization, knowing that if she just came back, she would realize her mistake. But Ember had stubbornly refused, and now her fate was out of my hands. I could only trust that the organization would find my twin and bring her back to Talon, where she belonged.
“Excellent, Mr. Hill.” Mr. Roth nodded, the cold smile never fading. “Exactly what we need to hear. Put your sister from your mind—her fate is in good hands, I assure you.” He raised a hand to the door. “Shall we go, then? The car is waiting, and I am sure you are eager to see what we have planned.”
I nodded. I was moving up in the organization, as I’d intended. Designs were falling into place, and I couldn’t dwell on the past, even if it meant letting Ember go for now. Without a backward glance, I joined Mr. Roth in the hall, shutting the door to the office, and that part of my life, behind me.
GARRET (#ulink_d8f6406a-bd29-5ac1-9917-008c168a76ac)
Tourist attractions always made me jumpy.
I didn’t like crowds. It was the soldier in me, obviously, responding to potential threats, to having too many people in my personal space. Crowds were a good place to hide, but that meant the enemy could do the same—melt into the throng and remain unseen until it was too late. I didn’t like being surrounded, and I really didn’t like strangers touching me, something that happened often in these places, as tourists seemed to share a general obliviousness to their surroundings and bumped into each other a lot.
I wove through the crowds along the river Thames, keeping my head down and my cap pulled low. It was a bright fall afternoon, and the river walk teemed with people milling down the sidewalk with no sense of urgency. But I could easily see my destination over the tops of their heads; it soared four hundred feet into the air, the massive white Ferris wheel known as the London Eye, silhouetted against the blue. An even larger crowd had massed at the base of the huge wheel, and an impressive line led up the steps to the clear plastic pods at the bottom. I set my jaw and marched resolutely forward.
“Sebastian.”
A man rose from a bench and came toward me, hand outstretched. He wore plain civilian clothes like me, but I could see the soldier in him, the way his dark eyes scanned the crowds, never still. He walked with a faint limp, favoring his right knee, a memento from a raid that went south and nearly killed us all. I shook his hand, and he jerked his head toward the end of the line waiting to get onto the Ferris wheel.
“I paid off the attendants,” he said in a low voice as we started toward the Eye. “We have a capsule all to ourselves for the entire thirty-minute ride. If you can stand me for that long, anyway.” He grinned wolfishly, showing a set of crooked white teeth.
“Why here?” I asked. “Seems exposed.”
He chuckled. “Think about it, Sebastian. The Order hates crowds and frivolity and...well, fun, and they avoid the touristy parts of town like the plague. They wouldn’t be caught dead here.” He waved a hand at the massive wheel. “Plus, we’ll have an enclosed glass room all to ourselves, with absolutely no chance of anyone eavesdropping on the conversation. Unless someone snipes us out, there’s no way to get to us.”
It was vastly improbable, but I scanned the area for snipers, anyway, especially the many buildings across the river. My skin prickled. So many dark windows and ledges and perches. If Tristan was here, that’s where he would be now, patient and motionless behind the barrel of his rifle.
“So how did that partner of yours take it, anyway?” Andrew asked, seeming to read my mind. “Have you talked to him since the...um...”
“No,” I said softly. “I haven’t seen him since my trial.” I hoped I would never see my ex-partner again, because if I did, he’d probably be trying to kill me. And truthfully, if Tristan St. Anthony was given that order, I’d be dead before I knew he was within a thousand meters. Ironic, if I was shot down by the person I once considered my brother in everything but blood.
Suddenly wary, I glanced at Andrew, wondering how much he really knew. Had the Order shared the details with other chapters? I knew my name was out there: a rogue soldier who’d gone over to the enemy. As far as St. George was concerned, I was to be shot on sight, no questions asked. The Perfect Soldier, now Order Enemy Number One.
If Andrew’s plan was to kill me, I couldn’t do anything about it now, unless I wanted to take off or overpower him on a crowded riverfront. Since neither choice would help me get what I came for, I waited quietly in line until we reached the front, where the ride attendant nodded to Andrew and pulled open the door to the glass pod, then motioned us both inside. The door shut, and the capsule began to move.
Stepping farther into the pod, I gazed around warily. The oval room was quite spacious, clearly meant for large groups. You could fit a full-size car in the middle and still have room to walk around it. A wooden bench sat in the center, and the walls were clear, showing all of London far below.
Andrew stalked to one side of the room, turned and leaned against a wall, fixing me with a solemn glare. “Relax, Sebastian,” he said. “I told you before. I heard what happened back in the States, most of it, anyway. I know what you’re accused of. Bullshit or not, you saved my life once. That’s something you don’t forget. And I don’t care what the Order says—anyone who has ever fought with you would know that you wouldn’t just betray your brothers like that. Not without reason.”
He looked away as the pod climbed slowly higher, sunlight streaming through the glass. I gazed down at Big Ben on the other side of the river, its giant face announcing that it was almost noon.
“Thanks,” I said. “I wouldn’t blame you for turning me in, Andrew. I’m just glad you’re willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“I’m not the only one,” Andrew replied. “A lot of us weren’t happy with the way your trial was handled.” He lowered his voice, as if there could be people eavesdropping, even here. “When you ‘escaped,’ we knew there had to be more to the story than what the Order was telling us. And I suspected I might see you again, sooner or later—I did say you could call on me for anything.” He gave a wry grin. “So if you need a favor, Sebastian, as long as it doesn’t involve going directly against St. George, you just have to ask. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here.”
I nodded, smiling faintly in return. “There is something I wanted to ask you,” I said. “You’re a scout now, right?”
His brow furrowed, as if that fact was painful. “Yeah,” he answered shortly. “After that close encounter with a bullet, I couldn’t go on any more raids. They stuck me with intel gathering, rooting out Talon activity in assigned areas.”
“And the number of strikes has increased recently, correct?”
Again, he nodded, though there was a wariness to him now, as if he knew where I was going with this.
“How are you getting the information?” I asked.
“Good question. Wish I could answer it.” His brow furrowed as he gazed back down at the city. “The Order hasn’t contacted me in several months,” he admitted. “I haven’t found or given them any information, and I know several others in the same boat as me. St. George isn’t using its scouts to find the nests. And yet...the number of strikes is at an all-time high.” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “How are they finding these dragons? They’re certainly not coming to us.”
I frowned. That wasn’t what I was expecting. I’d contacted Andrew because I had hoped to learn why Order attacks on dragons had taken such a jump. But if St. George wasn’t using its scouts at all...
“That is strange,” I muttered.
“I think so, too,” Andrew agreed. “And it gets even stranger. I asked around, trying to find where the Order has been getting their information, and you know what I heard?” A dubious look crossed his face. “Rumors are that the Patriarch himself is receiving visions from God, telling him where to find the devils.”
My brows rose. The Patriarch was more than the leader of St. George; he was almost a holy figure in the eyes of the Order. Only the most revered, staunchest devotee of St. George could become Patriarch, and once the position was filled, it was his for life. The council chose a new Patriarch only when the old one died, as they had done since the Order was founded. The Patriarch was a symbol of purity, incorruptible and utterly dedicated to the cause. But visions from God? I wasn’t sure what to think about that.
“Has he been right?” I wondered.
Andrew barked a laugh.
“Well, I don’t know where the man is getting his intel, but whether it’s from God or not, he’s been spot-on every time. Wherever he sends the teams, they find dragons. I guess the Order doesn’t need us anymore.”
I fell silent, thinking. The capsule spun lazily, stopping every so often as the Eye picked up new passengers or let others off. A gull flapped by, soaring past us toward the river. “Is Order headquarters in the same spot?” I asked finally.
Andrew nodded. “Same place it’s been for the past hundred years,” he answered. “Why?” His eyes widened. “You’re not thinking of going in! Sebastian, they’ll put a hole in your head before you get past the front desk.”
“Relax, I’m not going inside.” There wouldn’t be any point. Headquarters would not leave suspicious files or dealings out in plain sight, and I wasn’t a computer genius like Wes, able to hack my way through almost anything. I’d never been to Order HQ, didn’t know the layout of the building, its cameras or security systems; if I sneaked in, I’d be going in blind, something I didn’t care for. Besides, I was a wanted man within the Order; venturing into the heart of St. George’s operations seemed like a bad idea.
Andrew watched me, a suspicious look crossing his face. “Don’t suppose you’re going to let me know what you’re planning, are you?”
“Sorry, Andrew.” I offered a half smile. “No offense, but if anyone does find out we spoke, I can’t risk the Order discovering anything about me. Better for us both if you know nothing.”
“Fair enough.” The other gave a brisk nod. “I don’t like it, but fair enough. Just answer me this, Sebastian.” He pushed himself off the wall and stood straight, his gaze intense. “Is what they say about you true?” he asked in a grim voice. “Did you really throw in with the lizards? To destabilize the Order and everything it stands for?”
I hesitated. The question wasn’t angry, or accusing. It was just a question, from someone who wanted a serious answer. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Andrew might be helping me, but he was still part of the Order, someone who hated dragons and accepted that they were soulless monsters. I could’ve brushed it off, told him what he wanted to hear, but deep down, he would know I was lying, and that would be a disservice to someone I respected.
“I’m trying to uncover the truth,” I said at last. “Too many things happened that don’t make sense with what the Order taught us. I can’t ignore it anymore. I want to know whether the Order is hiding things from us. If they are who they say they are.”
“Damn.” Andrew regarded me solemnly. “Dangerous ground, Sebastian. I might have my own questions about the Order, but you’re talking treason. No wonder St. George wants your head on a pike.” He gave me a look that was both suspicious and resigned. “What is it you’re hoping to uncover, exactly?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Truthfully, I hope I’m wrong. But with what I’ve been through... I have to be sure.”
“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Andrew said. “I don’t want anything to do with whatever you’re planning. If you’re determined to go poking around the affairs of the Patriarch himself...” He raised both hands in a distancing gesture. “I won’t warn him you’re coming, but if you don’t watch where you’re stepping, you’re going get yourself killed. But you know that better than I do.” He sighed. “After this, you’re going to vanish and I won’t ever see you again, I suppose.”
“Probably not.”
Andrew nodded slowly. “Well, good luck to you, Sebastian,” he muttered, with the expression of someone who thought the other was going to die. “You’re going to need it.”
* * *
After the meeting with Andrew, I tackled my next obstacle: renting a car at seventeen, on a fake ID, in a foreign country. The clerk at the rental place gave me dubious looks all through the transaction but finally handed over the keys. Another barrier cleared. The bigger concern was the dwindling amount of cash in my wallet. I was loath to draw anything from the small stipend I’d acquired from my years in the Order, as my funds were limited and I had no way to get more. But certain things were necessary, and being able to move about the country without depending on taxis or trains was one of them. After that was done, I waited a few hours until early evening, when the sun was just beginning to sink into the west. Time to seek some answers.
Sliding behind the wheel on the right side of the car, I headed north across the river, following the map in my head. I’d never seen nor been inside St. George headquarters, but Tristan had told me where it was located, so I knew where I was going. Past St. George’s Bloomsbury, St. George’s Court and St. George’s Gardens, my heart beating faster with every mile deeper that I went into Order territory.
Not far from King’s Cross station, I pulled to the curb behind a double-decker bus, across the street from a row of unmarked office buildings, and let the engine run. Around me, it seemed like a perfectly normal afternoon; vehicles cruised down the road and civilians walked down the sidewalks, going about their business. Everything looked commonplace; there was nothing to indicate that an ancient order of knights waged war from this very spot, invisible to the public.
I leaned back in my seat, pulled my cap low over my eyes and waited.
Thirty seconds after seventeen hundred, a vehicle emerged from the private underground garage across the street. A black sedan with tinted windows rolled smoothly out of the darkness, turned left and cruised away.
Putting the car into Drive, I followed.
SEBASTIAN (#ulink_1e9b38e3-81b8-570b-9db8-e075597a91d4)
Thirteen years ago
“Hello, Garret,” a man said in a deep, quiet voice. “My name is Lucas Benedict, and you’re going to be living with me for a little while. How does that sound?”
I didn’t answer. He was a stranger. Everyone I’d seen so far had been a stranger. Where were my parents? I wanted my mommy. I shrugged and turned away a little when the man crouched down in front of me.
“Your name,” the man before me said, “is Garret Xavier Sebastian. Can you repeat that, Garret?”
I frowned. That was wrong. The first part was right; my name was Garret. But the next two I hadn’t heard before. “That’s not my name,” I told the man, who smiled. It was the first thing I’d said since my mommy...went away. But it seemed important, suddenly, to tell him. To let him know I hadn’t forgotten who I was. Even if I couldn’t remember what happened to Mommy and Daddy. Were they coming to get me? But no...this man said I was going to live with him.
“It is now,” the man said. “And you should be proud of it. Many in the Order are named after saints, and yours is a very special one. Saint Sebastian was a great man who helped many people.” He put a hand on my head, leaning close. “Did you know that Saint Sebastian was tied to a tree and shot full of arrows, but he didn’t die?”
I blinked and peeked up. “Really?”
“Yes,” Benedict said. “He was also a centurion, a warrior for God. Which is what you are going to be one day—a warrior. A soldier who protects people from evil and monsters, just like he did.” He ruffled my hair and stood, gazing down at me. “So, Garret Xavier Sebastian, do you think you can do that?”
I nodded solemnly.
“Good,” said Benedict. “Because you’re going to have to work hard to become that soldier. But don’t worry.” He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. His fingers were thick and strong, but not painful. “I’ll help you get there. From here on out, you’re not just a little boy. You’re a warrior in training. And someday, if you work hard, you’ll become a soldier who protects people and fights real monsters. Remember that, Garret.”
* * *
I did.
If I’d had an ordinary life before I came to live with Lucas Benedict, it was long gone. I lived in his small apartment in the middle of an Order chapterhouse and watched the daily lives, practices and routines of St. George soldiers until that was all that I knew. I ate, slept and breathed the Order, adopting its beliefs, viewing the soldiers as family, not knowing any life beyond the Order walls. When I was six, I started private classes at the chapel. It would be a few years until I was old enough to join the Academy of St. George, where all hopeful dragonslayers were trained. My education was overseen by Brother Gregory, who drilled perfectionism into my head even more than science or math or history. But my real lessons didn’t begin in the classroom.
“Garret.”
“Yes, sir.” Never Father, or Dad, or even Uncle. From the very beginning, the only title Lucas Benedict ever accepted from me was sir.
“Come here. I have something for you.”
Obediently, I slid from my desk, where I’d been doing that night’s homework—an essay about the Order’s involvement in the Salem witch trials—and padded across the room to stand before my mentor. He regarded me seriously, as he always did, before he knelt and put something hard and cold into my hands.
I looked down and blinked. A black pistol lay in my six-year-old palms, cradled between my small fingers. A chill raced up my back. I remembered gunshots, fire, men screaming, bits and pieces of that night, and I shivered.
“Don’t be afraid of it,” Lucas Benedict told me. “It’s not loaded, so it can’t hurt you. A gun is only a tool—it can kill, but the person wielding it has to make that decision.” He put his large hand over both of mine and the weapon. “This is yours now, Garret. I’ll teach you how to hold it, clean it and handle it safely so that when it is loaded, you’ll know what to do. But I want you to start learning now. This is what you’ll be using to fight monsters someday, so it’s important, understand?”
I looked at the gun again. I could kill monsters with this. Like the horrible black-winged creature that murdered my family. On my own, I was no match for the demons. I was just a scared little kid who still had nightmares sometimes. But with a weapon like this, I could do my own killing. I wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore.
“Yes,” I replied, looking back at my mentor. “I understand. When will I get to shoot things?”
He chuckled and ruffled my hair in a rare moment of affection. “When you’ve proved to me that you know how to clean, handle and take care of it properly when it’s unloaded, I’ll teach you how to shoot it. But not before. Not until I’m certain you know what you’re doing. So...want me to show you how to clean your weapon, soldier?”
“Yes, sir!”
That was the beginning.
EMBER (#ulink_96a05462-e49b-5de4-927f-38d4e4f8879c)
“Too bad it’s not Mardi Gras.”
Riley shot me a look from the driver’s seat, the hint of a smile playing at his lips as we cruised down the narrow road. “Hoping to catch some beads, Firebrand?”
“No.” I wrinkled my nose at him. “But we’re here, in New Orleans. On Bourbon Street.” I looked out the window, at the buildings with their elegant verandas draped with flags and hanging plants. I imagined them filled with people in costume, crazy masks and colorful beads, with streamers of purple and gold flying all around. One huge party, like I’d seen on TV. “I was just wondering what it would be like,” I mused.
Riley snorted. “Crowded.”
“Noisy,” added Wes.
I rolled my eyes at them both.
“Where does Griffin want to meet us, again?” Wes asked, sounding annoyed as he gazed out the window, as if the crowds and pedestrians strolling past the car personally offended him. “And why here, in New Orleans, of all places? Right out in the open.”
“Exactly,” Riley said, and turned down another road, leaving Bourbon Street behind. I sighed and watched it vanish in the rearview mirror. “Out in the open, where everyone can see you. Where a Talon operative can’t walk up and shoot you in the face without causing a panic.”
I blinked. “Or where a pissed-off rogue dragon can’t kick his ass for selling us out?” I guessed.
“That, too.” Riley clenched the steering wheel, his expression promising retribution, even if it wasn’t at the moment. “Griffin is a sleazebag, but he knows what it takes to survive. And if you have a Viper breathing down your neck, the last place you want to meet someone is in a dark warehouse in the middle of the night.”
“Still.” Wes sniffed, gazing out the window in disdain. “He could’ve picked a less touristy place to meet. At least it’s not on Bourbon Street itself. I wouldn’t...oh, look there’s the blighter now.”
I followed Wes’s gaze. A figure in a familiar red suit sat at an outdoor table next to one of New Orleans’s many bars. His legs were crossed, and a half-full glass of something sat on the table in front of him. Riley’s lip curled, his hands clenching on the steering wheel. There were no parking spots anywhere on the street, so we drove past and found a place around the block.
“Wait here,” Riley told Wes, as I opened the door and slid out. The day was humid and warm, and the air felt heavy. “Keep the engine running. If Talon or St. George shows up, we’ll need to clear out fast. Firebrand...” Riley glanced at me. “Keep your eyes open. If you see anything suspicious, tell me right away. Ready?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Let’s go.”
We walked back to the outdoor patio where the human in the red suit waited for us. I scanned the crowds, the corners, the overhead verandas and the tops of buildings, searching for anyone suspicious. For anyone who might be hiding a gun, or whose gaze lingered too long on us. For just a moment, I remembered the words of a certain human soldier long ago, when I first accused him of paranoia.
It’s not being paranoid, if they’re really out to get you.
A lump rose to my throat, and angrily I shoved it down. Not now. Focus, Ember.
As we approached, the human raised his glass to us in a mocking salute. “Riley!” he said cheerfully, showing a flash of brilliant white teeth. “And his little sidekick herself. Have a seat, won’t you? Let me buy you a drink.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Riley hooked a plastic chair with his boot and pulled it toward him before sliding into it. I took the seat beside him, glaring at the human across from us, as Riley gave a dangerous smile. “I’m still trying to figure out how you think you’re going to get out of this without me bashing your head in.”
“Now, now. Temper, Riley.” Griffin waggled a finger at him. “No eruptions—that will get you into trouble here. There’s no need to be unpleasant, is there?”
I growled softly, my dragon seething under my skin. “There are plenty of reasons to be unpleasant,” I said, baring my teeth just slightly in the human’s direction. “Considering you sold us out to the highest bidder.”
Griffin seemed unconcerned. “Oh, come now. That was business. Nothing personal. Thousands like me would do the same. Besides...” He swirled the ice in his drink. “I think you’re going to want what I know. It’s worth more to you than bashing my head in right now. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Riley sneered. “Don’t try to sell me a line now that the organization is gunning for you,” he said in a low voice. “This is what happens when you play both sides. Eventually, they both discover you can’t be trusted...except now you know too much.”
“No such thing.” Griffin sniffed and stared us down over the bridge of his nose. “It’s what I know that keeps me alive and makes everyone want what I have. Case in point, you’re here because I have information, and you’re willing to bargain for it.”
“Yeah? Don’t be so sure,” Riley said. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Seems to me you’re getting exactly what you deserve. Give me one good reason not to walk away and let a Viper do me the favor of slitting your throat.”
“Two words.” Griffin put down his drink and laced ringed fingers under his chin. His eyes were hard as he said in a slow, clear voice, “Breeding facilities.”
“What?” Riley dropped his arms and leaned forward, his eyes intense. My stomach dropped. The “facilities” were the places where Talon sent female dragons who had either failed assimilation or were deemed unfit in other ways. They became breeder females whose only purpose was to produce fertile eggs for the organization. The breeders and their locations were some of Talon’s most jealously guarded secrets. Riley had been looking for the facilities for years, but had never been able to find them.
“You know where a facility is?” Riley asked, not quite able to hide the faint thread of hope in his tone.
A slow smile crept across Griffin’s face. “Not just one facility,” he said. “All three of them.”
“Where?”
Griffin shrugged, and Riley clenched a fist on the table. “Dammit, Griffin,” he said. “You have my attention, so stop being an asshole. What do you want already?”
“I’ll tell you what I want.” The human leaned forward, his jaw set. “I want your promise that you’ll protect me from Talon,” he said. “I want a new face, a new identity, a new career, the works. I want Wes to help me disappear, and when all of that is taken care of, I want you to forget you ever knew me. I walk away from this whole mess, and you don’t darken my doorstep, now or anytime in the future.” Griffin leaned back again and picked up his glass. “That’s my offer,” he said, watching us over the rim. “And you know you’re going to take it, Riley. You’ve been looking for those facilities for how long? Longer than I’ve known you, right?”
I heard the faint rumble of a growl in the back of Riley’s throat. “How do I know you’re not lying to me again?” he asked. “Or that you’re not still working for them, and I’m walking into a trap?”
“You don’t,” Griffin said easily. He smirked, and I wanted to fly across the table, grab his smug neck and shake him until he either gave us the info, or it snapped. “But you’re going to trust me, anyway, because this is too good to pass up. You can’t risk me being right and letting the facilities slip through your claws, can you? All those poor breeder females, slaves to Talon forever.” He spread his hands, palms up, on the table. “But, the choice is yours, of course. You know what I want. We have a deal or not?”
Riley’s jaw tightened, and I could sense the dragon surging in him, too, wanting to spring up and burn the self-satisfied triumph right off the human’s face. But his voice was carefully controlled as he answered. “Fine. Tell me where the facilities are, and you have a deal.”
“Your word,” Griffin replied, his expression serious now. “I want your word, Riley. I give you what you want, you help me disappear, and neither you—” he shot a quick glance in my direction “—nor anyone in your network, ever bothers me again.”
“Yes,” Riley growled. “You have my word. Now give me the damn information before I change my mind and rip that forked tongue out through your teeth.”
Griffin nodded. Fishing in his breast pocket, he withdrew a pen and pulled a napkin toward him across the table. After scribbling a few lines, he folded it again and shoved it toward Riley.
“GPS coordinates,” Griffin said as Riley grabbed the square and flipped it open. “Give that to Wes. He should be able to find it. Have him confirm that it’s there.”
Riley frowned. “This is just one location,” he said, holding up the napkin. “You told me you knew where the others were.”
“I do. And I’m certainly not stupid enough to hand them over all at once. What’s to stop you from running off and leaving me high and dry with Talon?”
My temper flared. “Because we’re not like you?” I challenged, and he gave me a patronizing smile.
“You mean handsome, well-dressed and able to see when the tide is turning? More’s the pity.”
My dragon raged at him, itching to rend and claw and bite, but Riley’s warning glare stopped me. Griffin pulled a phone out of his suit jacket and glanced at the screen. “Well. I think we’re done here, for now, anyway. I do hope you rented rooms at decent hotel, Riley, and not one of those hole-in-the-wall dumps you usually go for.”
I curled a lip. “He’s coming with us?”
“Of course. How else am I going to avoid the organization? I certainly can’t uphold my end of the deal if a Viper sneaks in my window one night and caps me in the head. Then you’d never get the rest of the information, would you?” At my disgusted look, he chuckled. “Don’t worry, chickadee, you won’t even know I’m there. And once Wes sets me up with a new identity and life, you’ll never see m—”
A muffled pop rang out, the distant retort echoing behind us, and Griffin jerked in his seat, his eyes going wide. I jumped and stared in shock as a thin stream of blood ran down his face from the hole in his forehead. For a second, he sat motionless, looking stunned. Then he toppled forward and hit the table facedown with a thud. The empty glass fell to the sidewalk and shattered, the crash unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet. For a single heartbeat, everything was frozen.
Then someone close by let out a shriek and pandemonium exploded around us.
Riley leaped up, shoving his seat back, as the restaurant crowd began to flee, overturning tables and chairs, shoving each other aside in their desperation to get away. “Get inside, Firebrand!” he snarled, glaring wildly at the rooftops across the narrow street. “Get out of the open, now!” Dodging humans, we ducked into the tavern, which was in a similar state of chaos. People were either running away, hiding or talking frantically into their cells. I heard the bartender on the restaurant phone, trying to speak into it while two patrons yelled at him over the counter.
Riley pulled out his own phone and spoke briefly to Wes, his golden eyes scanning the crowds and rooftops across the street. The patio was nearly empty now. I could see Griffin’s body lying on the table, a pool of crimson spreading over the white cloth. My cheeks felt sticky, and with a start of horror, I realized his blood had spattered over my face when he was shot. Firmly I shoved my stomach down before it could crawl up my throat.
“I don’t see anyone,” Riley muttered, and a tremor went through his voice. But whether it was fear or rage, I couldn’t tell. I shivered, and he looked down at me, his gaze intense. One hand rose, his thumb gently brushing my cheek, as if assuring himself the blood on my face wasn’t mine. “You okay, Firebrand?” he whispered.
Shakily, I nodded. “Was this...Talon?” I whispered back, and he gave a grim nod.
“Yeah. It must be. Though this is the first time I’ve seen a Viper take someone out in broad daylight, in front of a crowd. That’s not like them at all.”
“Could it have been the Order?”
“I don’t think so. They wouldn’t have any reason to kill him, especially if he was selling them information, too. Talon is the one who wanted him silenced.” His gaze flickered to the patio and the body sprawled on the table, and his brow creased. “They must’ve really wanted him dead, to take him out like that.”
A siren blared in the distance, making us both jerk up, just as a familiar car lurched to a stop in front of the tavern.
“There’s Wes,” Riley said and brushed my arm. “Let’s get out of here. Keep your head down and move fast.”
With one last look at the body on the table, I fled the tavern after Riley, my heart pounding wildly as I threw myself into the backseat and slammed the door. Riley dived into the front as Wes hit the gas, honking the horn and weaving through pedestrians, and we sped away into the city.
GARRET (#ulink_7943b1f7-c90c-5677-a922-733617651c4c)
6:22 p.m.
Parked in the shade beneath a gnarled tree, I raised the binoculars and stared at the mansion at the bottom of the rise. This hilly, residential area several miles outside London seemed to be one of the wealthier parts of town, as large houses with an acre or two of land were not uncommon. Through the gated fence, the enormous, redbrick estate loomed at the end of a long carriage driveway. To the untrained eye, it looked like a normal—albeit huge—mansion, with tall windows, a pool out back, and a perfectly landscaped lawn and garden. But normal homes didn’t have guards posted around the perimeter, or a pair of trained attack dogs that swept the grounds every so often, searching for intruders. Normal homes didn’t have the type of security usually reserved for royalty—the precautions here indicated a man who either was so paranoid, he thought enemies lurked around every corner...or had something to hide.
The first time I followed the Patriarch to this neighborhood just north of London, I’d been surprised, maybe even a little stunned. In the Order, prudence was commended and extravagance was frowned upon. Everyone, from the senior officers to the newest grunt, made do with what he had and did not reach beyond his station. Wealth and physical possessions were unimportant. We served a higher order and anything that could tempt or distract us from our holy mission was to be avoided.
But the Patriarch was certainly doing well for himself, considering the size of his home and the number of guards posted. I knew he also had a small apartment in London, because he’d spent the evening there once, entertaining what looked to be a pair of officers from the Order. Perhaps he kept the apartment to hide the fact that he really lived here, in this enormous mansion. Considering the mansion’s isolation, I suspected most of the Order didn’t know where their revered leader actually lived. I wondered what they would think if they did know. If the man really was receiving visions from God, it was definitely paying well.
Lowering the binoculars, I leaned back in the seat, trying to get comfortable and knowing that was impossible. This was the fourth evening I’d sat here, lurking around the home of my former leader, the head of the Order itself. So far, I’d seen nothing unusual. No suspicious activity, no strange guests arriving in the middle of the night. The downstairs window, where I assumed the Patriarch’s office was located, glowed softly with lamp and computer light, and would for another thirty-eight minutes.
I took a sip of bitter black coffee, trying to curb my restlessness. Stakeouts were not my forte. Sitting around, waiting for something to happen...that was what Tristan had been good at, what made him such a deadly sniper—his ability to wait as long as it took for the target to show itself. I was better at kicking down doors and charging in, guns blazing, to shoot everything that moved. That wasn’t an option here, but I was running out of time. If something didn’t happen in the next few nights, I was going to forgo the stakeout and try to sneak into the house itself. Given the amount of guards, dogs and security, such a plan would’ve horrified Tristan.
Tristan. Memories flickered, dark and unwelcome. That was another reason I didn’t like sitting around—my mind tended to dredge up things I’d rather forget. I wondered where Tristan was now, if he was still alive, fighting dragons in the never-ending war with Talon. I wondered if he ever told stories about his former partner the Perfect Soldier, before that soldier turned traitor and sided with the enemy.
A vehicle rolled up to the gates. I sat up quickly, grabbing for the binoculars, as it entered the driveway, then pulled to a stop outside the front door. It was the same dark SUV that drove the Patriarch to and from St. George headquarters. Until now, the Patriarch’s schedule could be timed to the minute. He left work at seventeen hundred on the dot. Barring traffic, he arrived home exactly twenty minutes later and immediately went to his office, where he remained until 7:00 p.m. At 9:30 p.m., his lights went out and wouldn’t click on again until five o’clock the following morning. No one bothered him or interrupted his schedule. Except for the guards, he lived alone—no wife, children, or pets. Everything he did was order, habit and routine.
But not tonight.
Gripping the binoculars, I focused on the front door just as a familiar figure emerged. He wasn’t a tall man, and his short brown hair was peppered with silver, but he was still powerful and imposing, and his gait was confident as he walked to the waiting car. This was not a man who sat in meetings or behind a desk all day; this was a warrior and a soldier. Nodding briskly to the man who opened the door for him, the Patriarch slipped into the backseat. The doors slammed, and the SUV began to move.
All right. Time to get some answers.
* * *
They didn’t go far. Ten minutes after I began discreetly trailing the SUV through a quiet neighborhood, the vehicle slowed and pulled up to the curb. The back door opened, and the Patriarch emerged, followed by two large men. Though they were dressed casually, I could tell they were armed—definitely his security detail. All three gazed calmly up and down the street before they crossed the road and entered the public park on the corner.
I shut off the engine, then grabbed the backpack on the floor and exited the car, watching the Patriarch’s vehicle turn the corner and drive away. Shouldering the bag, I hurried across the street and peeked around a tree, catching sight of my quarry as they strode purposefully through the short grass and deeper into the park.
I dug my earbuds out of my pocket, stuck them in my ears, then pulled out my throwaway phone, keeping my head down. I’d never met the Patriarch, but I could only assume he knew what I looked like. My photo had probably been circulated through the Order, and the Patriarch would certainly keep up with current affairs in St. George. Following him was a risk, but if he did happen to glance back, hopefully all he would see was an oblivious teenager listening to music while texting on his phone.
With my eyes glued to the screen, I started walking.
I trailed them as casually as I could while still attempting to keep them in my peripheral vision. Thankfully, this area of the park was wide and open, with sweeping fields and few trees to block lines of sight. A fair amount of civilians wandered the paths; joggers and bikers, parents with children, people walking their dogs. It was easy to mimic them, to pretend I was just a random civilian enjoying the evening.
Finally, the Patriarch and his men made their way toward a large blue-green pond at the end of one field. A man in a gray suit sat on a nearby bench, staring over the water. The Patriarch stopped a few dozen feet from the bench and spoke quietly to his guards. They turned, folded their hands in front of them and scanned the area while the Patriarch continued toward the pond.
Shrugging off my pack, I walked to a tree about a hundred yards from the bench and sat down, leaning against the trunk with my back to the water. Setting my bag on the ground, I unzipped the top just enough to feel around inside. The shotgun microphone sat nestled in the bottom—amazing what you could pick up on the internet. Carefully, I plugged my headphones into the microphone, switched it on and pointed the entire backpack toward the bench, trying to find the right angle. There was a buzz of static in my ear, and snatches of a conversation filtered through the earbuds before resolving into separate voices.
“—llo, Richard,” crackled one voice, smooth and confident, making me frown. Richard? Who was on a first name basis with the Patriarch? I held my breath, easing the backpack to a better position. The voice sputtered a moment, then grew stronger. “Lovely evening, isn’t it? I heard last week was nothing but rain.”
“Let’s skip the pleasantries.” The deep second voice was clipped, impatient, which surprised me. I’d heard speeches given by the Patriarch, his words inspiring the soldiers of St. George as he reminded them of our holy mission. In all instances, he was poised and confident, never raising his voice to get a point across. He’d sounded nothing like the brusque, almost nervous man across the lawn. “That’s not why we’re here.”
Interesting. I suddenly understood why the Patriarch had chosen to meet in a very public park. If he didn’t trust the other man, he wouldn’t want to pick a location where the other could do something nefarious with no witnesses. Rules of enemy negotiations: don’t meet on the enemy’s turf, and don’t give him the opportunity to double-cross you.
So, who was this other man? And how had he convinced the Patriarch, the leader of St. George, to meet with him like this, when he obviously didn’t want to?
“As you say. I suppose we should get down to business, then.” By comparison, the other’s voice was cool and almost smug. “I trust the operation in China was a success?”
There was a creak, as if the Patriarch had seated himself on the bench and leaned back. His voice was begrudging as he answered. “The squad located the temple in the mountains and found the targets inside, just as you said.”
“And?”
“They’ve been dealt with.”
“Excellent. My people will be pleased to hear it.” A pause, and then the faint tapping of keys, as if the stranger was typing something on a laptop. “Another successful raid, and your men have done well. The funds should be in your account by the time you get home.”
My stomach dropped. Certainly not the vision from God the Order would have us believe. Who is this person? Is he even part of St. George, or is he something else entirely?
“You don’t look pleased, my friend,” the stranger went on. “Are you disappointed with our arrangement? Surely the destruction of another nest is cause for celebration, yet you seem unhappy.”
“I am not,” the Patriarch said in a cold voice, “nor will I ever be, your friend.” His voice faded as static buzzed through the headphones, and I carefully adjusted the backpack until it cleared. “...benefits us now,” the Patriarch went on. “But do not think we will ever be allies, and do not think I will change our beliefs. The Order does not bow to the whims of dragons, regardless of loyalties or circumstances.”
What?
“Be that as it may,” the man returned with a smile in his voice, “I’m afraid it is far too late for you to reconsider our arrangement. What would the rest of the Order say, if they knew their Patriarch had sold himself to the enemy? Do you think they would care that one tiny branch of Talon wants to bring down the whole? Do you think St. George would agree that doing business with a handful of dragons in order to destroy the rest is for the good of us all?” His voice grew faintly threatening. “If certain documents suddenly became known to the rest of the Order, what do you think would happen?” The stranger snorted. “Well, you know your people better than I. What is the punishment for treason—for consorting with dragons?”
I was barely breathing now. This...this was unreal. I sat rigid with my back to the tree, listening to the leader of St. George—the man the Order revered above all others—carry out a secret transaction with a dragon. Accept money from a dragon, to eliminate other dragons. And not only that, it sounded like these meetings had been going on for a while. My mind whirled with questions as confusion, disbelief and anger surged to life. How long had the Patriarch been lying to us? How long had he advocated the complete destruction of an entire species, when he himself was in Talon’s pocket?
The Patriarch...is in league with Talon, I thought numbly. No one was going to believe this. I was having trouble believing it myself.
“So, I’m afraid our transactions are going to have to continue, my friend,” the stranger—the dragon—went on in that same cool, smooth voice. “There is too much at stake, for both of us, to stop now. But that’s not the end of the world, is it? After all, you’re still eliminating your enemies. You’re destabilizing the organization. Who cares where the information comes from—as long as dragons are dying, you’re still achieving your holy mission, are you not? Protecting humanity and all that.”
“You mock me, lizard. But I will see your kind extinct. Even if I must make a deal with the devil to see it come to pass.”
“There you go.” The dragon didn’t seem at all perturbed at the Patriarch’s threat. “We have similar goals, you and I. The Order wants dragons dead—we want some dragons dead. And if Talon grows weak in the meantime, how is that a bad thing for St. George?”
The Patriarch’s voice went coldly polite. “I assume you have another lead.”
“I do.” I heard the faint rustle of paper. “And another opportunity for your people to redeem themselves, since they cannot seem to pin down this one dragon long enough to eliminate him.” The stranger’s voice took on a dangerous edge, even though his tone was light. “A pair of dragons waltzes into your chapterhouse, frees a traitor and waltzes out again, right under your noses. I would think finding them would be the Order’s top priority.”
I jerked up, hitting the back of my head against the tree trunk. My heart pounded as I realized he was talking about us, about Ember and Riley and myself, and the night they’d freed me from St. George. I knew the Order wanted us dead. I’d had no idea that it was Talon itself sending them after us.
“Sebastian will be taken care of,” the Patriarch replied, making my blood chill at the sound of my name. “As will the dragons who aided him. We were unaware of how deeply involved he was until they came for him that night. Every chapterhouse in the States is on alert for this traitor and the dragons you described. We will find and eliminate them.”
“Well. Now’s your chance. We’ve uncovered one of Cobalt’s hideouts, an abandoned industrial park about ten miles north of a small town in West Virginia. I’ve marked its location on your map. Our intelligence indicates he is heading there now, possibly with several dragons and the soldier in tow, but I would act quickly. Cobalt is intelligent, paranoid and he’s slipped through your fingers before. Let’s try to avoid that this time.” The stranger’s voice turned faintly mocking. “We don’t want a repeat of Vegas.”
“We know what we’re up against now.” The Patriarch’s voice was brittle. “This time, we’ll be ready for them.” There was a rustle, as if the Patriarch closed the file and rose. “We’re done here,” he announced. “I will contact you once it’s finished.”
“Of course.” The stranger rose, as well. “Always a pleasure, my friend. We’ll be in touch.”
I zipped up the backpack and stood, still slightly dazed but knowing I couldn’t be spotted now. Shrugging the pack over my shoulders, I put my head down and walked away, keeping my back to the bench where the meeting had taken place. I didn’t see the Patriarch, or his mysterious dragon informant, but I wasn’t looking for them. My mind was spinning. The Patriarch, the exalted leader of the Order of St. George, the man who condemned dragons and anyone associated with them, was working with Talon. For the second time in my life, my world had been tipped on its head. I didn’t know what to think anymore.
I did know one thing. Ember was in danger. She and Riley had no idea that Talon had set St. George on them. Right now, they were walking right into a trap. And though I knew the two dragons were more than capable of handling themselves, I also knew that, this time, the Order would go after them full force. Because they were also looking for me, a traitor who had turned his back on his brothers to side with the enemy. Who knew far too much about the Order of St. George.
Once free of the park, I stood on the sidewalk for a moment, fighting with myself. I knew I should keep digging, discover just how far the Patriarch’s involvement with Talon went. This was possibly the largest conspiracy in the history of Talon and St. George, one that would throw everything into chaos. I needed proof; without some kind of hard-core evidence, neither St. George nor Talon would ever listen to me.
But I knew what I was going to do now, and it wasn’t follow up on the Patriarch. Not when my mind was consumed with worry for Ember. I had no way of contacting her, Riley, or Wes; the number she’d given me was no longer in service. If I’d been thinking clearly that night, I would have talked with Wes, arranged some way of contacting them if I needed to. But I’d thought I was done with that group. My walking away was supposed to be a clean break; I hadn’t thought I would ever see them again. I hadn’t thought I would ever see her again.
That was foolish of me. This was war. Talon and St. George were still trying to destroy each other, and Ember was in the center of it all. As long as those two organizations existed, her life would be in jeopardy. Taking myself out of the picture wouldn’t change that.
And now, St. George was closing in. Across the ocean, Riley, Ember and Wes were walking into a trap, because Talon itself had set them up.
Unless I could get to them first.
I called the airlines on the drive back to the hotel and booked the first available flight back to the States, then returned to my room to grab my belongings. As I slid the key through the slot, my nerves prickled. Warily, I glanced around the hallway, then opened the door and stepped through.
A woman rose from a chair in one corner of the room, a grim smile on her face. She was small and thin, dressed in dark jeans and a jacket, with straight black hair and solemn eyes. “Here you are,” she greeted as I stopped short. “You certainly are a hard man to track down.”
Before I could back out, the door swung shut, and a shadow moved from behind the wood. I started to turn, to block whatever was coming, but the last thing I felt was a blow beneath my ear, and the world went black.
EMBER (#ulink_d3ba2107-0896-53c3-aa3f-9c3eab3ce2bc)
“All right,” Riley sighed, flipping on the hotel light. “We made it.” Glancing back at the parking lot, he narrowed his eyes, golden and intense. “The Viper could still be out there, so everyone stay alert. Ember, I need you to pack up. We’ll be leaving soon.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, and my voice shook at the end despite myself. Thankfully, Riley didn’t seem to notice.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll tell you as soon as Wes deciphers the coordinates Griffin gave us. It shouldn’t take long, right, Wes?”
“Trust me, mate,” Wes replied, stalking past him to the table. “We just survived watching a man’s head get exploded—we can’t leave soon enough.” He glanced up at Riley, eyes shadowed. “What I want to know is why the bloody Viper didn’t take either of your heads off. It had the shot, you were all sitting there like ducks, nice and lined up in a row. Why didn’t it kill you, too?”
Riley scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s pretty hard to cap three heads at the exact same time with a rifle. Maybe it had to decide between us, and Griffin was its official target. Maybe there was too much commotion, and it had to leave the area before the police arrived. I have no idea why it didn’t shoot us.” He blew out a shaky breath. “But, it didn’t. That’s all I care about right now. Looks like we got lucky.”
“Unlike Griffin,” Wes muttered.
Riley sighed. “Dammit, Griffin,” he growled, dropping onto the bed. “He was a traitorous greedy bastard, but I knew him. I’ve known him for years. Or I thought I did.” He rubbed his eyes. “Fucking Talon. No one deserves to go like that.”
My stomach curled, and I dug my nails into my palms. “I’m...gonna go pack,” I said, backing toward the exit. Riley looked up at me in concern.
“You okay, Firebrand?”
“Yeah.” I nodded and forced a grin. “I’m fine. Be right back—it won’t take long.”
I slipped through the door, feeling Riley’s worried gaze on my back, and crossed the hall to my own room.
As the door clicked shut behind me, I began to shake. Not bothering with the lamps, I walked to the bathroom and flipped the switch, meeting my gaze in the mirror.
My insides heaved. My cheeks and forehead were covered in dried red spatters—Griffin’s blood. I remembered the human, smug and confident, talking to me across the table. Alive and perfectly fine one second, lying facedown in a pool of his own blood the next.
With shaking hands, I wrenched the faucet to hot, then began scrubbing the sticky dark mist from my face and hands. The water in the basin ran red for a while, then became clear. But no matter how hard I scraped, I could still feel his blood on me, and my movements became harder and faster as my anger grew. Faces filtered through my mind; Griffin, Faith, Dante, Garret. All gone. All taken away, either by Talon, St. George, or the war itself.
No, I thought, as my thoughts settled on one face in particular. The one that had been plaguing me ever since he left. That’s not entirely true. You drove him away. Don’t blame Talon or St. George. He’s not here now, because of you.
With an inner roar, I raised my fist and drove it into the face of the girl in the mirror. She fractured, shattering into pieces, dozens of accusing green eyes glaring at me over the sink. Gone, I thought in despair. They’re all gone. Garret, Dante, almost everyone I care about. How many more will I lose? How many more will I watch die right in front of me?
“Hey! Ember, stop.”
Strong hands closed around my wrists, pulling me away from the sink and out of the bathroom. My dragon snarled and surged up, ready to turn her rage and grief on something else, but Riley’s piercing gold eyes halted her.
“Stop,” he said again, his voice softer. “Firebrand, breathe. It’s just me.” I sucked in a deep breath, feeling the dragon subside, and Riley relaxed. “What happened?”
“I...don’t know. I just...” Biting my lip, I looked down at my hands and saw blood starting to well from my knuckles. Riley looked down, too, and grimaced.
“Come here,” he sighed, gently pulling me to the bed. “Sit.” I sat, and he retrieved the small first-aid kit I always carried in my bag now. I watched him drag up a stool and take my hand, then dab away the blood. I waited for the exasperation, for the questions as to why I had punched the mirror into oblivion, but he didn’t say anything.
“There,” he said, tying the last of the gauze around my hand. “That’s done. Try not to punch any more mirrors, Firebrand. You’ll jinx my luck.” His voice was light, but his eyes were still dark with concern. I slipped off the bed, flexing my fingers to test the range of motion.
“Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile. “I...uh...guess you wouldn’t believe me if I said there was this really big roach on the mirror, and I didn’t have a shoe handy—”
“Ember.” His voice was quiet, making my stomach dance. I looked back to find him gazing at me, all amusement gone from his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you haven’t been sleeping? You didn’t think I would want to know about that?”
I swallowed. “They’re just stupid nightmares,” I said, making him frown. “It’s not important. I’m fine, Riley. I can handle it.”
Swiftly, Riley rose, grabbed my wrist and held it up, watching me over the bandages. “This is not handling it, Firebrand,” he said firmly. “This is the opposite of fine.” Scowling, I pulled my arm back, and he narrowed his eyes. “Something is bothering you, and it’s been affecting you for a while. I want to know what. You’re exhausted and on edge, and if you keep going like this you’re going to explode. You nearly lost it with Griffin today, don’t think I didn’t notice.” When I didn’t answer, his brow furrowed. “Talk to me, Ember,” he urged. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing.”
I turned away, and he growled. “Dammit, Firebrand. Wait.” Fingers took my arm, strong and cool against my skin, and something inside me finally snapped.
I didn’t remember Shifting. Didn’t remember making that decision. But suddenly, I was in dragon form, my wings brushing the sides of the wall, and Riley was pressed against the bed, eyes wide as he stared at me. The hotel room abruptly felt tiny and cramped; my tail uncoiled, thumping the desk, and my talons dug into the cheap carpet as I leaned forward, crowding Riley and making him sit down on the mattress. Lowering my head, I gave a low, throaty growl that was both an invitation and a challenge, and Riley squeezed his eyes shut.
“Ember.” His voice was a rasp, and I saw a tremor go through him as he tried to keep the dragon down. His jaw was clenched, making it difficult to get out the words. “This...is not the time, or the place. Change back.”
I lashed my tail and snorted a curl of smoke in his face. I didn’t want to Shift back; I wanted Cobalt to come out. I knew he wanted to. I could feel it in the human’s ragged breathing, the way his hands clenched in the blankets. The past few weeks had been a mire of chaos and nightmare and emotion, but for once, my thoughts were clear. “Why?” I demanded, hoping the defiance would be enough to force Cobalt into the open. It wasn’t, and I bared my fangs at him.
I was tired of the confusion. Tired of the fear and the nightmares, the guilt eating me from within. I didn’t want to think, or feel. Being a dragon was so much simpler. I knew exactly what I wanted; I just had to get the human below me to go away. “You once told me you weren’t holding back anymore,” I reminded him, half opening my wings to drape him in my shadow. “What’s stopping you? Or was that just a lie?”
“I know...what I said. And no, it wasn’t a lie. But...” Opening his eyes, Riley gave me a look that was both hungry and pleading at the same time. “Not here, Firebrand,” he choked out. “Get ahold of yourself. We’re in the middle of a city. We can’t be seen like this.” He took a deep breath, as if strengthening his resolve. “Ember, I... You know I want to. But, this is not the time. You have to Shift back.” I curled a lip, and another shiver went through him as his voice became strangled. “Now.”
Anger flared. Baring my teeth, I snarled in his face, whirled and willed myself back into human form. The black Viper suit became visible, covering me from neck to ankles as I shrank down, but the remains of my jeans and shirt lay shredded at the foot of the bed. For a second, I was sorry I was wearing the suit; if I hadn’t been, being naked would’ve been a good excuse not to Shift back.
I rubbed my eyes, not looking at Riley, as hurt and anger still simmered in my chest. I didn’t know if it was the dragon’s frustration or my own tangle of feelings, but I suddenly felt very alone.
I heard him shift off the mattress and take a hesitant step toward me, his voice low. “Ember...”
I stiffened. “Sorry about that,” I said in a flat voice, and headed toward the bathroom. Where I could close the door on rogue dragons and not have to face him for a few minutes. Where he wouldn’t see me fall apart. “I’m tired,” I muttered, swiping a hand across my eyes. “It won’t happen again.”
“Wait.” Riley hurried forward, coming around to face me. “Hold on a second, will you?” I stopped as he barred the way to the bathroom, the look on his face frustrated, as well. “Look, I know things have been crazy. I know with all the running around, we’ve barely had a chance to breathe. But I haven’t forgotten about...us, all right?”
Hope flickered inside, though the dragon snarled, unappeased. “You’ve been busy,” I said, shrugging. “I get it.”
“That’s not it, Firebrand. Dammit, how do I say this?” He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t see you, it’s just... I’m not good at...human stuff, Ember. I’ve been on my own a long time, dealing with dragons and hatchlings and Vipers—and Wes isn’t what you’d call warm and cuddly. I don’t mean to ignore you, but whenever we’re close all I can think of is Shifting into my real form, and we can’t do that in a car, or a hotel room, or anywhere people could see us. And all those human things—hugging, touching, kissing, whatever...it doesn’t come natural to me. I’m not the soldier, Firebrand. I’m a dragon.” He gave a short, frustrated laugh and made a hopeless gesture. “It’s just not in my makeup.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, looking down. “I know.” It didn’t make me feel much better, knowing we would have to be completely alone and isolated for Cobalt to appear. Being around humans had spoiled me, I supposed. Dragons weren’t supposed to love. I couldn’t expect Riley to act like Garret.
“But...” A soft brush against my cheek made me glance up. Cobalt was staring down at me, golden eyes solemn and intense as he lowered his head. “That doesn’t mean I can’t learn,” he whispered, making my insides swirl. “I’ve been around awhile—I’ve picked up a few things over the years.” I blinked at him, and one corner of his mouth twitched in a wry smirk. “I can be more human, Ember,” he murmured. “I can’t say I’ll remember all the time, but if that’s what you want... I’ll try.”
I licked dry lips. “No,” I said, making his brows arch. “I don’t want you to change for me. It wouldn’t be you—”
“No?” Riley’s eyes gleamed, and he grabbed my wrist. “You don’t think so?”
Pulling me close, he slipped one arm around my waist, pressed the other to the back of my neck and kissed me.
I froze, stunned. My hands went to his chest, flattening over his shirt, not knowing whether to push him off or yank him closer. His lips were warm, firm and confident. I could smell his leather jacket, feel the heat thrumming through us both as he held me against him, his arms like steel bands pressing me close. Through the elation and shock, one thought filtered through my astonished brain.
Riley was...a really good kisser.
Pulling back, Riley gazed down at me, smiling at my stunned expression. “There,” he said quietly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Is that enough to convince you that I’m still thinking about us? That you are constantly on my mind, even when I’m distracted?”
I swallowed, trying to find my voice. “For a dragon, I’d say you’ve got this human thing down pretty well,” I whispered, and he smirked.
“I haven’t lived this long by not being observant.” Releasing me, he stepped back, shoving his fingers through his hair and looking faintly embarrassed. “Wes should be done in a few minutes,” he said, glancing at the door. “Will you be ready to leave by then?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, feeling a lightness in my chest that drove away the fear and anger and frustration, at least for now. “I’ll be right out. I just wish I knew where we were going.”
As if on cue, Riley’s phone chimed. Pulling it out of his jacket, he stared at the screen a moment, then shook his head.
“Well, it looks like you’ll get your wish, Firebrand. Wes found the coordinates.” He scanned the message, brow furrowing slightly. “Makes sense, I guess. Away from people, out in the middle of nowhere.”
“Where?”
He sighed and stuck his phone in his pocket again. “According to Wes, we’re going to West Virginia.”
DANTE (#ulink_963ec369-db22-5341-95a5-1272c197e5bc)
“How many vessels have you awakened so far, Dr. Olsen?”
The thin, bearded man in a stained lab coat gave Mr. Roth a proud, weary smile as we left the elevator and followed the scientist down the twisting corridors that led deeper underground. “Twenty-two,” he announced.
“And how many have survived?”
“Thirteen vessels have lived through the initial adjustment phase and are expected to continue without support.”
He said it with satisfaction, but I felt my stomach twist painfully at the number. The project was progressing at an astonishing rate. More than half the replicas had survived, better than predicted, but that was still nine dragons that hadn’t made it. Dragons who had died because they hadn’t developed properly, or whose minds had been damaged from the programming process. Or, worst of all, had simply never developed that mysterious spark of life that couldn’t be replicated by science. Their lungs and hearts functioned, everything seemed to be working fine, but they were empty shells; living pieces of meat that slowly starved to death when the feeding tubes were removed.
It made me sick to think about. In fact, though I would never admit it out loud, the whole thing was making me rather ill. Was this truly the only way we could survive? Making clones of ourselves? Dragons who were grown in a vat, whose memories and personality traits were artificially implanted to make them more compliant? It didn’t sit well with me, but at the same time, I trusted that the organization knew what it was doing. This was a war, and we were vastly outnumbered. Every year, we lost more of our kind to St. George, and their numbers weren’t getting any smaller. Something had to be done to even out the score, or we would find ourselves close to extinction again.
“And how is their training progressing?” Mr. Roth inquired as we continued down the corridor, passing armed guards and other scientists, who bowed their heads or averted their gazes as we went by. Mr. Roth paid them no attention whatsoever. “Have they shown any signs of being able to Shift?”
Dr. Olsen paused at a heavy metal door, punched a code into the keypad beside it and pressed his thumb to the lit screen. It beeped, flashed green and the door unlocked with a soft hiss. The scientist looked back at us and smiled. “Come see for yourself,” he replied, and opened the door.
I stepped through the frame onto a metal balcony that overlooked a large room. The walls and floor were cement, and the ceiling rose above us in a steel dome. Several doors of heavy-duty steel were set into the walls every dozen or so feet, individual cells that made me shiver.
A dozen lean, metallic-gray bodies lay on the cold concrete floor, unmoving. They didn’t stir or look up, or give any indication that they’d heard us, and my heart gave a violent lurch as, for just a moment, I thought they were dead. But then the scientist stepped to the edge of the railing and raised his arms, as if embracing them all.
“Hello, my darlings!” Dr. Olsen called into the room, his voice echoing in the vast space around us. No response from the dragons below, not even a tail or wing twitch, and the scientist smacked his forehead. “Oh, that’s right. I told them to stay.” He clapped his hands. “Up here, please! Everyone, look at me!”
As one, the dragons raised their heads and looked up.
My skin crawled, and I clutched the cold railing, repressing a shiver as I stared at them. These were hatchlings, my age, or they would have been if they’d had a normal hatching. They were dragons who should have been like me, but they were all...wrong. There was no spark of personality, no individual that stood out from the rest, no defining features or characteristics. They were carbon copies, perfectly alike, staring up at us with eyes as blank and empty as a statue.
“We’re still in the testing phase,” Dr. Olsen said, observing the dragons with a faint smile on his face. “There have been a few hiccups here and there—you have to tell them when to eat, and sleep, and...well, let’s say they don’t follow the call of nature on their own. But we’ve found them highly responsive to stimuli and able to retain nearly everything they have learned. So far, they are able to follow complex commands without fail, provided you show them what you want them to do first. Observe.”
He pulled a silver dog whistle from inside his lab coat, then blew on it sharply, though the only sound I heard was a faint, high-pitched hissing noise. The clones, however, straightened and instantly began to Shift. Scales melted away; wings shrank down and vanished; tails, claws and horns disappeared. Now a dozen barefoot, identical humans stood in two neat rows at the edge of the room. They wore skintight black briefs, their heads were shaved, and I could just make out a line of numbers tattooed above their left ears. Thirteen pairs of blank, silvery eyes stared fixedly at the scientist, unblinking.
A chill crept up my back. Somehow, this was even worse.
“Marvelous,” breathed Mr. Roth, gazing down at the replicas with a broad smile on his face. “They can Shift, after all. The organization will be very pleased, indeed.”
I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “Why do they all look the same, Dr. Olsen?”
“Part of their genetic code,” the scientist replied. “They look the same because they share the same genetic makeup. You can’t clump them together in public, of course, but they are much easier to hide and transport in human form.” Dr. Olsen beamed, as if showing off a winning science project. “The knowledge of Shifting was also part of the encoding,” he went on, turning to Mr. Roth. “So these dozen hatchlings managed to learn and reliably perform the skill in a few days, rather than the standard two years.”
“Very impressive,” Mr. Roth said, a dark gleam in his eyes as he stared down at them. “And how long have they been able to hold a human shape, Doctor?”
“We’ve been slowly testing to see how long they are able to remain Shifted,” the scientist replied, gazing over the clones with an almost fatherly smile on his face. “So far, they can reliably retain human form for eight hours.”
“Excellent. So they are very nearly ready.” Mr. Roth nodded once, then turned to me. “Soon, Mr. Hill, you will have the opportunity to prove yourself. You will have the chance to show Talon exactly what you, and these vessels, can do.” I gave him a puzzled look, and he gestured back to the creatures below us. “We will need the clones ready for battle as soon as possible, able to follow commands and kill without question. We need them to be a fighting force, and you will be in charge of overseeing this project, Mr. Hill.” His smile widened as I blinked at him in shock. “We realize you are not a Viper or a Basilisk and this is not what you were trained for, but nonetheless, Talon is entrusting you with this task. I hope you surpass all our expectations.”
“Sir...” For a moment, I stumbled on what I wanted to say, torn between confusion and horror. Talon was putting me in charge of making the vessels battle ready? Why? I wasn’t prepared for this. My calling was politics and business, meeting important people and swaying them to our way of thinking. Blending in to the human population. What did I know about preparing things for war?
“You have questions,” Mr. Roth said matter-of-factly, still smiling at me. “Don’t be afraid to ask, Mr. Hill. Talon wants you to be fully comfortable in the tasks we set for you.”
“I only have one question, sir,” I said, knowing that statement wasn’t entirely true. It didn’t matter what I felt or what doubts I had. It didn’t matter that just watching the vessels from a hundred yards away made my skin crawl, and that I certainly didn’t want to get close to any of them. When Talon gave you a job, you did it, no questions asked. Talon’s interest lay in how well you completed your task and whether you succeeded or failed. Nothing else mattered.
“Why me?” I asked. I didn’t explain what I meant; Mr. Roth already knew. Loyalty and determination could get you only so far. I was a hatchling, and this was possibly Talon’s biggest, most expensive project to date. Yes, I had managed to impress the organization, but they were taking a massive risk by bringing me on. Even I understood that.
Mr. Roth regarded me with cold professionalism. “Because it’s in your blood, Mr. Hill,” he said, and walked away, leaving me staring after him in utter confusion.
GARRET (#ulink_ffeeada4-6794-50d8-ba4c-d1135e76d5fc)
When I opened my eyes, the world was still dark. My skull throbbed, and the air was hot, stale, and smelled of burlap and sweat. I raised my head and realized it was covered with a thick black bag. My hands had been tied behind my back, bound with coarse rope, and there was a cloth gag in my mouth. Judging from the rumble of an engine and the vibrations of my seat, I could guess I was in the backseat of a car, heading in an indeterminate direction.
I shifted, and something hard and pointed pressed into my ribs from the side. “Don’t try anything,” said a voice, the same female who’d been waiting for me at the hotel. “Just relax. It won’t be much longer.”
Who are you? I wanted to ask. Are you with St. George, or Talon? If you know who I am, why haven’t you killed me yet?
Maybe they were taking me to the Patriarch. Perhaps the leader of St. George wished to see the traitor in person so he could execute him himself. Grim as it was, that was the best scenario I could hope for. St. George would show me no mercy, but at least it would be over quickly. If this was Talon, they’d probably want to interrogate me for information on Riley’s rogue underground and the Order. I could take a lot of pain, and I’d been trained to withstand torture without breaking, but I could only imagine what Talon would do to a former soldier of St. George.
Unfortunately, I could only wait until my captors revealed who they were and what they wanted from me. Meanwhile, across the ocean, Ember was still in danger, unaware that she and Riley were walking into a trap. Helpless, I clenched my fists against my back, well aware that every mile, every minute that ticked by, took me ever farther from getting to them in time and closer to losing the red dragon forever.
We drove on for several more minutes, taking multiple twists and turns, before the car finally shuddered to a halt. Still blindfolded, I was dragged out of the vehicle, led across a cement floor and down a flight of steps. The air was cold and damp, cooling my face a little through the suffocating bag, making it easier to breathe. There was a scraping sound, like a chair was being dragged across the floor behind me. A moment later, I was pushed into it, and the sack was torn from my head.
Blinking, I looked around. I was in a basement, with thick stone walls and a few shelves holding various outdoor tools. There were no windows, and only one dim lightbulb, flickering right above my head. Three people surrounded me; two bald, grave-looking men standing to either side of my chair, and the small Asian woman I’d seen earlier. I hadn’t gotten a good look at her before I’d been knocked senseless, but seeing her now, I realized she wasn’t very old—though her exact age was impossible to tell, and she was very attractive. She regarded me coolly with her arms crossed over her chest before stepping forward and yanking the gag from my mouth.
“Apologies for the somewhat barbaric treatment.” Her voice was soft and had the faintest hint of an accent. “Normally we are not quite so rude, but I couldn’t take any chances with the Order being so close. We had to move quickly, and I didn’t have time for arguments. I hope you understand.”
I didn’t answer, though my heart sank at her words. Not from the Order. So, they were part of Talon, after all. I took a furtive breath, steeling myself for what was to come. They’d no doubt brought me here, where screams and cries of pain would go unheard, to interrogate me. But I would not break. I would not give up Ember’s location, or Riley’s underground. The next few hours might have me wishing I was dead, but I would not betray the girl I loved to the organization. They would have to kill me.
The woman cocked her head at me, dark eyes narrowing, and her voice turned hard. “So. Now that that’s out of the way...why are you here? Who sent you? And please,” she added, holding up a hand, “don’t try to lie and claim you don’t know what I’m talking about. We have seen you outside St. George. You’ve been trailing the Patriarch for days. We know you are involved, and that you’re working for the organization. You wouldn’t be following the leader of St. George if you weren’t.”
Still silent, I blinked. Now I was confused. Why accuse me of being from “the organization” if she was from Talon herself? I knew she couldn’t be from the Order, but if she wasn’t part of Talon, and she wasn’t of St. George, who was she?
The woman stepped forward, looming over my chair. Something feral glittered in her dark eyes, and for a moment, the pupils almost appeared green. “So, talk, mortal,” she commanded, as with a jolt, I realized what she was. “I don’t have time for games, and recently I’ve been a little short on patience. I really would prefer to be civil, but if you do not cooperate, I will reluctantly have it done the hard way.”
“I... Are you from Talon?” I asked instead, and she frowned.
“No.” For some reason, the very thought seemed to disgust her. Her lips curled in an expression of loathing that could not be faked. “I am not. Nor will I ever be part of that cursed organization.”
“But...you are a dragon.”
She sighed, and I caught a hint of smoke on her breath, though it was different, somehow. Almost spicy, like incense. “I do loathe that word,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. “So clunky and inelegant. It lumps us all into one basket, assumes that we are all one and the same.” She scowled at me. “Yes, mortal,” she said bluntly. “I am, as you say, a dragon. In my language, I am known as a shen-lung, though I don’t expect you to remember that. Continue to call me dragon, if you like, but you will talk and you will tell me about Talon and what they are doing here.”
An Eastern dragon. For a moment, I could only stare in wonder. We—St. George—knew so little of them. I had never even seen an Eastern dragon before, though I knew they existed. Unlike their Western counterparts, the dragons of the Orient were far more reclusive and difficult to track down. In the Order, not much was known about them, though it was assumed they were still part of Talon, as all dragons were.
I knew better, now. And if this woman, this shen-lung, despised Talon as much as she appeared to, maybe I could turn this to my advantage. If I could get her to trust me.
“I’m not from Talon,” I said.
She was clearly unconvinced. “Don’t make this hard on yourself,” she said, though her voice wasn’t threatening or ominous, it was just weary. “I truly do not wish to hurt you, especially one so young, but I will have answers. You were clearly following the leader of the Order. Spying on him, as we were. No one from St. George would do such a thing—the only one to benefit from such activities would be Talon. So please.” She made a vague gesture with a hand, and the two men flanking me closed in, resting corded hands on my shoulders. I felt the strength in their fingers as they squeezed; my bones started to bend from the pressure. “Dispense with the lies. Talon cannot protect you now. I will ask once more. Who are you, and why are you here?”
“I am not working for Talon,” I said again, keeping my voice steady through the growing pain. “And you can have your thugs hit me, break my arms, whatever—I’ll still give you the same answer. I can’t tell you anything about Talon, because I’m not from the organization.”
“Then who are you working for?” the woman asked in an overly patient tone. “You know far too much to be an ordinary human. What is your interest in the Patriarch? Who are you, exactly?” When I didn’t answer, the dragon’s voice became lethally soft. “If you want me to start believing you, mortal, this is your last chance.”
I clenched my jaw. If I told her who I really was, what I really was, she might kill me, anyway. I didn’t know what Eastern dragons thought of the Order, but I could assume they knew who we were and what we did. St. George was the enemy of all dragons, and Talon would show me no mercy. Would their Eastern counterparts do the same?
I hesitated a moment longer, then decided to take the gamble. Even though I knew it was risky and she might immediately have her thugs snap my neck if she knew the truth. But I was out of options and in desperate need of allies. If I could convince this dragon we were on the same side, maybe we could help each other. If she didn’t decide to kill me on principle.
“I know about Talon and the Patriarch,” I said carefully, feeling my heartbeat pick up, “because...I was part of the Order. I was once a soldier of St. George.”
Both men straightened, and the dragon drew back, narrowing her eyes. “This is a lie,” she stated, her voice hard. “Soldiers of St. George never leave the Order. You are lying again—”
“I’m not,” I insisted.
“You must be.” She glared down, anger and hatred glittering from her previously calm expression. “If you know about Talon and the Order, you know what St. George does to us.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I know. If I’m lying, why would I tell you I’ve taken part in slaughtering your kind?” She had no answer for that, watching me with hard black eyes. “I was a soldier of the Order,” I said again. “If you want the truth, there it is.”
She frowned, suspicion and curiosity warring with anger and hate. “Why would you tell me this?” she asked in a soft voice, coming forward again. “You say you were part of the Order that would see us extinct. You have admitted to killing my kind, massacring us wholesale, in the name of your God.” She leaned forward, close enough for me to see my reflection in her jet-black eyes. “The only reason I do not kill you where you stand is because you told the truth, and you knew what that would mean. I find myself curious as to why. Why would a soldier of St. George reveal himself to his enemy? What kind of game are you playing?”
“It’s not a game,” I told her. “I’m not your enemy. And I’m not part of the Order any longer. We can help each other.” One of the men snorted, but I ignored him. “I have information on the Patriarch and Talon,” I continued, holding her gaze, “and I’m willing to share it with you. But you have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” The dragon rose, giving me a look of contempt. “Trust you?” Walking to the opposite wall, she stood there a moment, arms crossed, as if trying to compose herself. “Do you know why I’m here, mortal?” she said, whirling around again. “Do you think I want to be in this bizarre country, surrounded by oblivious mortals and their strange customs? I had a temple, in the Hua Shan mountains. A small, isolated temple perched on a cliff, where I lived in peace with the humans for over a hundred years. The temple monks all knew me and revered me. I was the third dragon to make my home there, as my ancestors did before me.
“And then,” she continued, narrowing her eyes, “one day, we had a visitor. A dragon, from the Western lands, all fancy and civilized in his expensive suit, always looking at his smartphone. He spoke of his grand organization, Talon, and tried to get me to join. All dragons should be united under one banner, he said. Think of what we could accomplish if all our kind joined together against the mortals. I refused. I didn’t want to be part of his massive corporation—I was content living my simple life with no interruptions or demands. I craved peace, isolation. Not power. I’d heard rumors of our Western cousin’s sprawling organization, and the Elder Wyrm’s constant quest for supremacy. I wanted nothing to do with Talon, and told him so.
“Before he left, he told me this—be careful you are not making a terrible mistake. Without Talon, you are vulnerable. Without Talon, St. George will eventually come for you, and all your desires for peace and simplicity will mean nothing when they are burning your temple to the ground.”
My skin prickled, and cold spread through my insides. I knew where was this was going. I remembered the conversation between the Patriarch and the Talon agent, about a temple in China, and suddenly everything became perfectly, sickeningly clear.
“One month later,” the dragon continued softly, “that is exactly what happened. The Order of St. George came in the night and began slaughtering everyone in the temple. Unarmed monks, who had never killed so much as a grasshopper in their entire lives, were cut down in a hail of bullets as the soldiers marched through, searching for me. I know the monks tried to talk to the soldiers, reason with them. I know they strove for a peaceful solution and were gunned down without mercy or thought. I wanted to fight—my friends, men I’d known since they were children, infants, were being systematically executed. But the abbot convinced me to flee.
“We are the only ones to survive the massacre at the temple,” the dragon finished, glancing at the two men standing like rocks beside me. “Three survivors, out of a dozen souls who wished only to live their lives in peace and isolation. And then, St. George came through, slaughtered them all, and burned the ancient temple to the ground. Nothing remains of my home but cinders and ash. So, tell me, St. George...” She stepped forward, raising her arm, and the cold edge of a knife was pressed against my throat. The dragon’s gaze was glassy as she leaned in. “Why should I trust you? Why shouldn’t I show you the same amount of mercy your kind showed the monks at my temple?”
I closed my eyes. “You have no reason to trust me,” I said. “I’ve done all the things you’ve seen St. George do and more. Had circumstances been different, I might have been on that raid.” Opening my eyes, I met her furious stare. “I know it means little now, and nothing I say can make up for what you’ve lost, but...I am sorry for what happened.”
The dragon paused, confusion and astonishment battling the anger in her expression. “You are either a very gifted manipulator, or the strangest soldier of St. George I have ever seen,” she murmured at last. The blade’s edge dropped from my throat, and she stepped back, regarding me intently. “All right, mortal. Let us say, against all my better judgment, I decide to believe you for the moment. You went from butchering every dragon you came across to apologizing to one of them today. What changed?”
“I met someone,” I said quietly. “A dragon. A hatchling out of Talon, being sent to live with humans for the first time. The Order knew the organization had sent one of their agents to a small town in California. My mission was to track her down, expose what she really was and kill her.”
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