No, that’s not true, I told myself. You still have your memories...most of them, anyway. All your skills, everything you’ve learned, the friendships and connections you’ve made in the past sixteen years. Talon tried to take those, as well, remember? They truly tried to take everything. If Garret and Riley hadn’t gotten there in time, there’d be nothing left but a body. An empty vessel, just like the clones.
“Perspective check, Ember,” I told myself softly. I was still alive, with most of my memories intact. Riley and Garret were all right, and somehow, impossibly, we had all escaped from Talon. We were safe.
For the moment.
I shivered again. Riley’s warning came back to me, dark whispers of the storm on the horizon. Talon was coming. The Night of Fang and Fire, the final purge to completely destroy the Order of St. George, Riley’s underground and all of Talon’s enemies, was drawing close. Garret was right; we couldn’t sit here, doing nothing, waiting for Talon to appear on our doorstep. We had to do something.
Abandoning my plans for a shower, I opened the door, stepped into the hall...
...and walked right into Garret.
He grunted as I gave a small yelp of surprise and staggered back, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Garret. Sorry, I didn’t see you.” He stared at me solemnly over the threshold, and I cocked my head with a frown. “Why are you lurking outside my door?”
“I was waiting for you.” He gave me a concerned look, as if that should be obvious. “Are you all right?”
I swallowed, feeling abruptly self-conscious under that metallic gaze. “Yeah,” I answered, turning away to walk back into the room. “I’m fine.” Fine as anyone can be when they discover that they’re really a clone created in a lab to house the memories of the Elder Wyrm. “Where’s Riley?” I asked, hearing Garret enter the room and close the door behind him. “Did Wes ever get here? What are we planning to do now—”
Garret’s arms closed around me from behind, pulling me against him. My heart jumped, and my stomach flip-flopped, as the soldier leaned in, pressing his forehead to my neck.
“Garret?”
“Sorry,” he muttered, and his voice was choked. “Just give me a second.” He shuddered, and his arms tightened around me. “I almost lost you yesterday,” he whispered. “It didn’t really hit me until later, but we almost didn’t make it. If Mist hadn’t gotten us out when she did, if she had waited any longer...”
I reached up and squeezed his arm, trying not to imagine what would’ve happened if the procedure had gone as planned. “I’m okay,” I whispered. “It’s over now.”
He shook his head. “When I saw you strapped to that table,” he muttered, “and that scientist told us what they were doing, it took everything I had not to kill him and every human in that room. If they had succeeded, if they had really taken all your memories so that the Elder Wyrm could move into your body...” His hands, pressed against my stomach, became fists. “It would’ve killed me,” he murmured. “To know that you’re alive, but you’re not...you anymore—I can’t think of anything that would be worse.”
I swallowed. “And you don’t care that I’m just a vessel?” I asked hesitantly. “A thing created in a lab?”
“Ember.” Garret released me and gently turned me to face him. His gaze was intense, worried, but not angry or repulsed. “Do you care that my parents were part of Talon?” he asked, making me frown. “That they were servants of the organization, working for the Elder Wyrm?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Of course I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because that doesn’t reflect on you, Garret. You’re not responsible for what your parents did in the past...oh.”
He raised an eyebrow, knowing I had just proven his point. “But that’s different,” I argued. “You had normal parents. You weren’t created in a laboratory, like some creepy Frankenstein monster.”
Garret stepped closer, his gaze holding mine. “If I was, would you think any less of me?”
“I...no.”
“And what if I wasn’t entirely human anymore? What if I had some sort of strange blood that turned me into something unnatural? Would that affect anything between us?”
I sighed. “No, and I’m starting to realize how unnatural our relationship really is.”
He chuckled, looking thoughtful. “Vessel is a good term,” he said softly as I blinked in confusion. “I get now why they’re called that.”
“Really? I don’t.”
He sobered. “The Order believes that our bodies are just shells, containers for the soul. It’s what’s inside that’s important—our memories, our consciousness, what makes us who we are. That’s what I was afraid of losing, Ember. You, not your body. Outer appearances aren’t important. Though you are beautiful, you know that, right?” I think I blushed, and he smiled, leaning closer. “I didn’t fall in love with how you looked,” he murmured as his hand rose, gently brushing my cheek. “I fell in love with you.”
My eyes watered, and everything inside me melted into molten goo. “You are getting entirely too good at making a dragon cry,” I said, and kissed him.
His arms slid around me, drawing me close as a soft exhale escaped him. I closed my eyes, letting the horror, stress and fear of the past few days fade away, momentarily forgotten. Garret’s kisses were gentle, unhurried, though they were laced with passion and relief. Heat flickered between us, and for the very first time, there were no feelings of reluctance. No anger, disgust or snarling protests from the dragon. No confusion or doubt. Just acceptance. And something so powerful it felt like my insides were going to erupt into flame and consume me from within.
I am in love with this human, I thought, and it felt completely right.
The soft creak of the door opening interrupted us. We pulled back as a girl entered the room with an armful of sheets and blankets.
She jumped when she saw us, her eyes widening. I gasped in surprise. “Nettle?” I exclaimed as the other hatchling gaped at me. Dark and willowy, her dreadlocks bristling atop her head like spines, she looked unchanged from the day I’d met her in Crescent Beach. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, duh. Emergency recall signal.” Apparently, Nettle could recover quickly enough for a smart comeback. “Every nest and safe house in the system has been ordered to clear out and come here. Remy and I just arrived a few minutes ago, and there’s a whole heap of hatchlings wandering around downstairs. Where have you been?”
“Sleeping,” I muttered as Garret gave a quiet chuckle and released me. “Besides, that’s not what I meant. Why are you here?” I gestured around us. “In my room?”
“Because all the other rooms have been taken.” Nettle looked annoyed at having to explain this. “And everyone has to double up. Your room was the last one to go.” She glanced at Garret and arched an eyebrow. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were busy. Do you two need a moment?”
I frowned, but Garret touched the back of my arm before I could say anything. “No, it’s all right,” he stated. “Riley wanted us to find him as soon as Ember woke up. And Wes arrived a couple hours ago. We should go see what they’re planning.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right.” Back to reality. Much as I wanted to close the door and have Garret all to myself, we couldn’t relax. Talon was still out there. The Night of Fang and Fire was still coming. If I knew Riley, he was doing everything he could to prepare and hunker down. “Any idea where they are?”
“Riley is outside somewhere,” Nettle answered, moving to the twin bed opposite mine and tossing her sheets to the mattress. “I heard Remy say he’s in the tornado shelter out back. I guess he’s expecting a storm or something.”
Oh, you could say that. “Come on,” I told Garret. “We need to find him. I’m sure he’s come up with some sort of plan by now.”
Garret nodded,
and we walked out of the room and down the hall, where a cacophony of voices had replaced the previous silence of the farmhouse. They grew louder as we walked downstairs, and my eyes widened in astonishment.
The living room and kitchen were filled with dragons. Hatchling dragons, all of them; teens and young adults lounged on the sofas and chairs and were seated on stools along the counter. Most of them sat clustered together, talking in furtive voices. A few had sought out isolated corners to sit by themselves, watching the other dragons with wary eyes. There were two adult humans in the room who seemed to be watching over the group, along with one older dragon that, if not a Juvenile, was pretty darn close.
For a moment, I could only stare. There were more hatchlings in this one room than I had ever seen in my life. All of them rogues who had rejected Talon, who had seen through the organization’s lies and wanted to live free. And that made me both very happy and very, very nervous. I suddenly understood why Riley kept his network so scattered and isolated from each other, and why there were only a couple dragons per safe house. If St. George was to kick in the door and storm the room right now, there would be a lot of dead dragons before the fight was over.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Garret murmured beside me, apparently thinking the same. “So this is Riley’s underground. I’ve never seen so many rogues in one place. If the Order ever saw this...” He shook his head. “Let’s hope that never happens.”
We wove through the living room toward the front door. I spotted Remy sitting in an armchair, surrounded by a group of older teens, and waved. But the usually cheerful hatchling didn’t smile back and quickly averted his eyes as we passed. I wondered what that meant but had no time to dwell on it as Garret pushed open the screen door and we stepped onto the porch.
“Okay,” I said, gazing around. It was quieter out here than in the farmhouse. A warm breeze tugged at my hair, swirling the leaves into tiny dust devils in the yard. I was struck again by the lack of noise; it reminded me of my old school in the middle of the desert where Dante and I had grown up. Though the scenery was more interesting at least.
A chill ran up my back. I could remember the school—the cluster of long cement buildings in the center of an eternal wasteland. I remembered my brother and myself growing up: the isolation, the long hours of study, the endless boredom. But...there were blanks in my memory, places in time that skipped, entire interactions and scenes I was missing. How much had been taken from me? Weeks of memories?
Years?
I shuddered and pushed those thoughts away. My brain was still too fractured to deal with them now. Later, when everything died down and I had a chance to think, I’d try to piece together what was gone and what I remembered. “All right,” I said, turning to Garret. “So, now we need to find a tornado shelter. Any idea where that would be? Maybe around the back of the house?”
“Wait.” Garret stepped close and took my hand. “Before we look for Riley,” he said, “I need to talk to you about something. In private.”
GARRET
Ember stopped and looked at me. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” I answered. “Well, maybe.”
“Maybe?”
I grimaced and took a step backward, pulling her with me. “Come on,” I said, glancing through the front window at the crowded living room full of dragons. “Not here. I don’t want anyone else to hear this.”
Looking puzzled and wary, she followed me down the steps and across the yard, toward the faded, sagging barn at the edge of the field. Bypassing the barn doors, I led her around the side of the structure, out of sight of the farmhouse. “Okay.” Ember turned to me, bemused. “This is kind of mysterious—”
Her words were cut off as I stepped forward and kissed her, pressing her into the wall. The action startled her, and in truth, it surprised me, too. I hadn’t been planning it; this was not my sole purpose of bringing her back here. But the opportunity was there, and I discovered I didn’t want to let her go just yet. She gave a startled gasp, her hands going to my shoulders before she slid them around my neck and kissed me back.
“Sorry.” Pulling away, I offered a rueful smile. “Couldn’t help myself. We sort of got interrupted, and with how crowded everything is now, I figured I would take advantage of the quiet.” Plus, we might not have much time left.
“What’s gotten into you, soldier boy?” Ember ran her fingers down the side of my face, and I closed my eyes. “Not that I mind, but this isn’t like you.”
I sobered. “Talon is coming,” I said, destroying the tranquility with that one simple statement. Her smile faded, her eyes turning grim and dark. “We don’t know how big that clone army is, but we do know that they plan to attack soon. Riley was right to call everyone here—his safe houses were on Talon’s strike list, and he needs to take care of his underground. I get that. But...the Order is in danger, too. If Talon hits them now, when they’re disorganized and still reeling from the Patriarch’s death, they could very well wipe them out. Or cripple them so badly they’ll never recover.” I paused, measuring my next words, wondering how she would take it, then sighed. “I have to warn them.”
“Warn them? How?” She stared at me for only a moment before she got it, and her eyes narrowed in alarm. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“I won’t ask you to come.” I turned away, gazing back toward the farmhouse. “Your place is here, with Riley and the other rogues. You should be with your own, especially now. But... I have to go, Ember. I don’t agree with St. George or what they do anymore, but I can’t let them be wiped out.” I thought of Tristan, of Lieutenant Martin, and the soldiers I had grown up with. “The Order was my home, and there are still good people there. I have to try to warn them.”
I felt her presence behind me. “I know. I figured you would try to contact the Order sooner or later, no matter what Riley said.” Stepping close, she took my hand, weaving her fingers through mine. “But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you go alone.”
Relief spread through me, which surprised me a little. I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted her to come, to choose me, until now. But at the same time, I didn’t want to take her from her own kind unless she was absolutely certain. This was still St. George, the enemy of all dragons, and the war was far from over. “Are you sure?” I asked, turning back to her. “I don’t know if they’ll listen to me. I’m still the most hated person in the Order right now, and their views on dragons haven’t changed. It will be dangerous, Ember. They’ll probably try to kill us both.”
“I know.” She stepped closer, looping her arms around my neck. “And yes, I’m sure. You said so yourself—someone has to take that first step. Someone has to start trusting the other side, or this war will never be over.” Green eyes peered up at me, confident and unafraid, as I slid my arms around her. “We’ll change things, soldier boy, one step at a time.”
The crunch of approaching footsteps caught my attention. I released Ember and turned just as a trio of teens came around the corner of the barn. They were all hatchling dragons, but at least one of them, the boy out front, was bigger and older than me. He had spiky black hair and dark eyes, and I realized that these were the dragons that had been talking to Remy earlier in the living room. Their postures were stiff, their faces hard, making me tense. I’d seen those looks before, indignant and challenging—they were looking for trouble, and I could guess who their target was.
“Can we help you?” Ember asked in a cool voice.
They ignored her, turning to glare at me with dark, hate-filled eyes. “Hey, human,” the oldest dragon spat, confirming my suspicion. “Heard an interesting story about you today. Someone said that you’re really a soldier of St. George. Is that true?”
“Who told you that?” Ember demanded.
“The scrawny kid. What was his name again?” The teen shrugged. “He came with the black
dragon.”
Ember let out an exasperated sigh. “Dammit, Remy,” she muttered. “You and your big mouth. Stop spreading rumors already.”
“So, is he right?” one of the other teens demanded, glaring at me. “Were you really a dragonkiller?”
“Yes,” I said simply, and their expressions darkened. One of them curled a lip with a low growl, clenching his fists. The lead dragon didn’t move, but his pupils turned slitted and reptilian. “I’m not with the Order anymore,” I went on, knowing these three wouldn’t care. They would see only what I had been—a former dragonslayer of St. George, their greatest enemy. Nothing I said would convince them otherwise, but I still had to try. “I left that life, and St. George, behind. I’m not here to fight you.”
As expected, they didn’t back off, and the lead dragon took a menacing step forward, his pupils still razor-sharp. I saw the tension in his arms and shoulders and knew he was gearing up for a fight. “Murdering bastard,” he growled.
“Hey,” Ember snapped, and stepped forward, bristling, as well. “Didn’t you hear what he said? He’s not part of the Order anymore. He’s on our side, so you three can just back the hell off.”
“Fuck that.” The leader hadn’t taken his gaze from me the whole time. He took another step, and this time the others followed, crowding forward. “I had a friend once, St. George,” the lead dragon said icily. “Another hatchling Cobalt freed from Talon. We were living in a safe house up north, minding our own business, not bothering no one. Until the night St. George kicked down the door.”
I repressed a sigh, knowing it had to be something like that, that the now familiar story would always come back to haunt me. And nothing I could say would make it right or better. I might not have been on that raid, but I’d been on many like it. And depending on how long ago it was, I couldn’t be certain I hadn’t been on that strike, that I hadn’t participated in what was coming next.
“I got out,” the dragon continued, “but my friend was shot dead in front of me. Four soldiers gunned him down while he was lying on the floor, begging them to stop. A kid who hadn’t hurt anyone his entire life.” The teen’s eyes glimmered, nostrils flaring, like he was drawing in a breath to unleash a gout of flame. “So wha’d’ya have to say to that, St. George?”