He scowled, digging his nails into his palms. Well, she could keep her pity. He was doing just fine on his own. And as for Fred? Well, who cared that she was technically deceased? He could see her anytime he wanted to here in the Nether.
Not anytime. Not if you value your health.
Caleb grunted, waving off his dragon’s warning. But deep down he had to admit she was probably right. The extended trips to the Nether were taking a massive toll on him. In fact, he’d hardly recognized his face in the mirror that morning. Sallow skin, sunken eyes, cracked lips. And that was just on the surface. He didn’t want to think about his hands shaking uncontrollably. His heart palpitating far too fast. His mind unable to focus on something as simple as tying his shoes.
He’d told himself he’d take the day off. Spend some time in the real world, regain his strength. But then he ran into Trinity in the corridor. Saw the haunted look in her eyes. Remembered all the things he’d said the night of the party—his desperate attempt to save some sort of face. And before he knew it, he was palming the sapphire.
He knew he had to be careful. While a single trip to the Nether would leave you with a headache, extended trips could cause your brain to go into permanent stasis. You’d still be alive—your heart would still beat and blood would still flow through your veins—but your mind would be gone, on a one-way trip to Dragon Land, never to return.
And while sometimes the idea didn’t sound half bad, Caleb knew he could never allow himself to succumb. Darius was counting on him. He’d seen something worthy in the rat he’d plucked from the gutter. How could he let his mentor down?
His ruminations were interrupted as he felt Fred twitch. “What’s wrong, girl?” he asked, snapping back to the present. But before the dragon could answer, he saw for himself.
His brother was dressed in formal Academy attire—black pants, white shirt, crimson jacket, adorned with scattered medals and pins, each representing one of the Dragon Hunter’s kills. Caleb couldn’t help but wonder which shiny medal Connor had been awarded for slaying poor Fred, and in a moment of rage considered ripping each and every one of them off of his brother’s chest.
You think they make you a hero, he thought bitterly, but you’re nothing more than a killer.
Forcing his anger aside, he stepped between his dragon and his brother, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. He knew Connor couldn’t hurt Fred in the Nether—he’d already done all he could to his poor dragon in real life—but he felt a bristle of protectiveness all the same.
“How did you find me?” he asked, not bothering with pleasantries. But even as he voiced the question, he knew. Too much time in the Nether had obviously weakened him, made him easier to locate by those with the gift. Another reason it was good that Trin was spending all her time in the real world. The last thing she needed was for his brother to track her down. “And what do you want?”
“I wanted to congratulate you,” Connor said simply, ducking under the cave’s low entrance and strolling toward him with deceptively casual steps. As he drew closer in the dim light, Caleb got a better look at the Dragon Hunter, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Connor looked in worse shape than he did—evidently he’d been power-using his gift as well these past few days. Though, of course, his reason was very different than Caleb’s—seeking to find Trinity, not escape her.
“Congratulations from you?” he drawled, keeping his face neutral. No need to let his brother see his upset. “Have pigs finally learned to fly?”
“No, but I understand dragons have. Or one particular dragon in this case.”
Connor spoke lightly, easily, but Caleb could detect the flicker of annoyance cross his brother’s otherwise smooth face. And suddenly he realized why. He must have found out somehow that the egg had hatched. That he had lost. The great Dragon Hunter had been defeated at last. And not only defeated, but defeated by his own no-good, Strata-D criminal twin! A smile tugged at the corners of Caleb’s lips.
“Don’t thank me,” he replied smoothly, running a hand along Fred’s long neck. “It was your girl who did it all.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the worst part, you know. You couldn’t have just gone and done this stupid thing on your own. You had to drag poor Trinity down with you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, should I have left her behind to make it easier for you to kill her?”
“I wouldn’t have had to kill her if you’d just left the flecking egg. It could have gone down the volcano and everything would have been fine. No one would have had to die.”
“Um, yeah, except for the entire world,” Caleb reminded him. “The human race needs dragons to survive. Otherwise we’ll be the ones going extinct.”
Connor groaned loudly. “Is that how the Dracken are playing it now? That they’re on some mission to save the world?” He shook his head. “Seriously, Caleb, how could you believe that? You saw what dragons are capable of. You saw what that one did to our own father.”
“What, defend herself against a man who was trying to slaughter her for no reason?” Caleb asked. “Face it, Connor. Our father wasn’t a hero. He was just a money-grubbing mercenary, killing for coin.”
“And what’s Darius willing to kill for?” Connor shot back. “What does he hope to gain from striking down a poor, helpless old man?” He screwed up his face. “Trinity’s grandfather barely escaped with his life, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” Caleb blurted, against his better judgment. “Trinity’s grandfather is dead.” His brother was starting to piss him off. “And it’s pretty obvious who killed him.”
To his annoyance, Connor started to laugh. “Oh, so they’re trying to pin it on me, are they? I should have known.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, you can call off the lynch mob, seeing as he’s very much alive.”
Caleb stared at him, a strange flurry of emotions hitting him hard and fast. Joy at the idea of Trinity’s beloved grandpa being alive; fury at Connor for trying to blame his friends for his attempted murder.
“You’re lying,” he stammered, trying to catch his breath.
He’s not.
Caleb whirled around. Fred was still standing behind him. The dragon gave him a hard look.
Listen. You know he’s not.
“But why would Darius do something like that?” Caleb demanded, turning away from the dragon. “He wants Trinity on his side.”
“Exactly. He needs her,” Connor agreed. “If she leaves, his whole operation is botched for good. So why not take out the one thing she cares about more than anything in the world? Leave her completely dependent on the Dracken with no place left to go.”
Caleb frowned. He wanted to tell his brother that he was crazy. That Darius was good and kind and had rescued him when he had nowhere else to turn. But that would just prove Connor’s point, wouldn’t it? Everyone here—every Potential they had—was orphaned or otherwise alone in the world, with no ties to their previous lives. That way Darius never had to worry about divided loyalties; no one had anything left to lose.
But Trin was different. She hadn’t come here of her own free will. She hadn’t needed a rescue. She had a life outside these walls. And as long as she did, she could never fully become part of the Dracken. Not in the way Darius wanted her to anyway.
He looked up at his brother. “Why are you telling me this?”
Connor leveled his eyes on him. “Because Trinity deserves to know the truth. And since she’s shut me out, you’re the only one who can tell her.” He shrugged. “But don’t take my word for it. Meet me in Tucson. See her grandpa yourself and hear what he has to say.” He paused, then added, “You say you care about her. Well, now’s your chance to prove it.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Argh! That was so close! Try again, Em! I know you can do it!”
Trinity reached down, palming the tennis ball, then stretching to full height again, preparing for another throw. Emmy hovered a few feet away, her wings beating madly at the air, her eager e
yes glued to the ball. Trin could barely believe how big the dragon had gotten, going from the size of a baby bird to a plump, full-grown Chihuahua in just a few days. She supposed it wasn’t too surprising, though, given the dragon’s never-ending appetite. Caleb had told her dragons would eat until they exploded; Trinity was now beginning to believe it.
The little dragon did a showy flip, then tossed Trin an impatient look, once again eyeing the ball in her hand. Trinity let the ball fly, watching it spiral high into the open-air courtyard of the west wing. “Have at it, Emmy!” she crowed. “Go, go, go!”
Before Emmy’s birth, if you’d asked Trinity what being a Dragon Guardian meant, she probably would have guessed it was just hop on a dragon and hope for the best—as she had with Caleb in the Nether. But in real life, it turned out, there was a lot more to it than that. The Dracken had created a highly regulated training regimen—one, they insisted, all Guardians go through. From offensive maneuvers to healing arts, defensive tactics to stealth operations—the program covered it all. It was like training to be all the character classes in a Dungeons and Dragons handbook at once—all with the aid of an actual dragon.
The green dragon’s face was awash with concentration, her eyes drilling into the falling ball. She pulled back her head, waited for just the right moment, then opened her mouth.
Whoosh! The flames shot from deep in her throat, hurtling through the air and smacking the tennis ball square on. The ball burst into flames before falling harmlessly to the ground in a puff of black smoke. Trinity let out a loud whoop of triumph, pride gushing through her.
“Yeah, baby! That’s how it’s done!” She held out her hand as the dragon flew by, slapping her palm against an outstretched wing. Emmy squeaked in excitement, dropping to the ground and doing a little victory lap around the still-smoking tennis ball. Trinity couldn’t help but giggle.
“You’re pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” she teased.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the guard making his move, crossing the courtyard, then disappearing through the door at the far end of the room. She glanced at her watch, her smile fading. Right on time. She turned to Emmy.
Okay, we’ve got five minutes. Let’s do this.
She ran to the edge of the courtyard to the west wall, where a colorful tapestry, depicting a dragon fighting a medieval knight, hung from floor to ceiling. To a casual onlooker, the wall would seem solid and seamless behind its flashy decor. But Trin had studied Aiko’s blueprints and knew there had once been a door, covered up by drywall when the Dracken remodeled. A door that led to a series of twisty passageways which employees had once used to transport trash or receive deliveries. From what Trin could determine from the blueprints, these back hallways culminated at a large underground garage, where a single elevator offered an unguarded exit—a chance to escape.
Trin pulled back the tapestry, scanning the blank wall, running her fingers over its smooth surface. She’d been timing the patrols all day and had calculated five minutes between shift changes. Which meant they didn’t have time to get this wrong.
It should be right about here, she told the dragon. Give it a try.
Emmy pulled back her little head, letting loose a long, steady stream of fire. The drywall cracked and hissed under the heat but soon melted away, revealing, to Trinity’s excitement, the outline of a door underneath. She beat out the flames with the emergency fire blanket they’d given her for training purposes, then turned to her dragon.
Good work! Now let’s get out of here.
As she grabbed chunks of charred drywall, ripping them away to unblock the door, she wondered what the Potentials would think when they realized she’d gone. She felt a little guilty, to be honest, just taking off without even saying good-bye. They’d been so nice to her, so welcoming. But she couldn’t trust them to stay quiet if they learned of her plans and she really couldn’t blame them either. Their entire lives had been constructed around the idea that Emmy would stay and grow and hatch baby dragons that they would be assigned to take care of. Without Emmy, there would be no dragon program. No reason for them to remain. She didn’t want to think about where they’d end up if the Dracken turned them out on the streets.
But she had no choice. She had to know for sure whether Darius was telling the truth. If her grandpa was really dead. And if he was, well, at least this way she’d get a chance to attend his funeral. To give him a proper good-bye. Maybe after all was said and done she’d consider coming back here to resume her training. But under her rules this time. She refused to be made a prisoner. Even if it was for her “own good.”
Trinity studied the door. It appeared as if its handle had been removed when it had been covered up, meaning it wouldn’t be easy to pull it open. She bit her lower lip, glancing at her watch. They only had about two minutes left.
Try to pry open the door, she told Emmy. Use your claws.
She still wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do with her dragon once they were out in the wild. It wasn’t as if Emmy could exactly blend in. And at the rate she was growing, she couldn’t be a house pet for long. But when Trin had floated the idea of the dragon remaining here, where it was safe, Emmy refused to even consider it.
I go where you go. We are destined…
Deep inside, Trinity was relieved to hear it. The little dragon was a part of her now. She needed Emmy as much as Emmy needed her.
Come on, she urged her dragon. We almost have it.
The sound of a door slamming behind her interrupted their progress. She whirled around, startled, to see a lone figure entering the far end of the courtyard. Horrified, she yanked the curtain down over the gaping hole, obscuring it from view. What is he doing? she thought furiously. This place was supposed to be off limits while she was training except for the regular patrols. Who would dare to interrupt the Fire Kissed at work?
Then she realized exactly who.
Caleb.
Her heart fluttered involuntarily in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to him since the night she’d learned of her grandpa’s death—the night he’d been so cruel. Now, as he approached, she couldn’t help but notice his gaunt face, his hollow, shadowed eyes. He looked terrible, she realized, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. And was his arm wrapped in some kind of sling?
“What happened to you?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay casual as she gestured to his arm. “Some girl get a little too feisty in the Nether?” She said it as a joke but caught a tinge of bitterness thread through her voice all the same.
Caleb didn’t reply. Instead, he walked straight up to her, coming too close, invading her space. She found herself trembling, her heart pounding in confusion, as he took her hands in his and squeezed them tight. What was he doing? Desperately, she attempted to clear her mind, force it into blankness so he couldn’t discover what she was hiding just beyond the curtain.
“What you do want?” she demanded angrily. “I don’t have time to—”
She stopped short as her eyes met his own—eyes as clear blue as the sky on a cloudless day. Eyes she’d recognize anywhere.
Her face clouded with confusion. “You’re not Caleb,” she gasped. “You’re—”
Connor clamped his mouth over hers, silencing her with a hard, long kiss just as the guard stepped back into the room. She struggled to free herself, but his hands closed around her forearms. As his lips moved against hers, she felt a voice sweep through her consciousness.
Look under your bed. I left you something.
Then he released her, pushing her away. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the guard giving them an amused look before continuing his rounds. She stared at the Dragon Hunter, unable to speak, unable to move. What was he doing here? Had he come to rescue her?
Or finish her once and for all?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Trinity ran to her room, Emmy flying high above her. When she got there, she dismissed her maid and shut the door, locking it behind her. Dropping to her knees, s
he peered under the bed, pulse beating erratically as she wondered what Connor could have left for her there. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she pulled out a small laptop accompanied by a pair of headphones.
“What the…?” she trailed off, walking the computer over to her desk and setting it down. With shaking hands, she lifted the cover, bringing it to life. She gasped as her eyes fell upon the sole program sitting on the desktop.
Fields of Fantasy. With the expansion pack already installed.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, glancing up at Emmy. Of all the possible things she could have imagined, this was definitely not it. The dragon looked down at the game with mild curiosity, her eyes narrowing at the splash screen depicting a knight slaying a dragon. She gave a disapproving snort.
“Sorry, this game does have its share of dragoncide,” Trin admitted with a rueful grin. “But it’s pretty awesome all the same.” She stared at the screen, elated yet confused as hell. Why had Connor left this for her? Surely it was more than a late Christmas present.
“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” She looked up at Emmy. “Wait for me outside,” she said. “Sound the alarm if someone comes.” She wasn’t sure what the Dracken would do if they found her with an unauthorized laptop, but she didn’t want to find out.
The dragon tossed her head in agreement and Trinity opened the door to allow her to exit. Then she returned to the laptop. It had been rigged, she noticed, to some kind of wireless hot-spot device, giving her Internet access even in this dead zone of a mall. Very clever. With trembling fingers, she somehow managed to log in with her character and waited for the game to load. The expansion pack had a spanking new intro scene that she was desperate to watch, but she forced herself to click through it, not wanting to waste any time.
A moment later, her Elven mage StarrLight appeared on the screen, exactly where she’d left her: dancing on the table in the middle of the town tavern, scantily dressed and double-fisting two large mugs of beer. Trin couldn’t help but laugh. The last time she’d played was with Caitlin, who passionately believed the game’s only redeeming quality was its hook-up potential. Trin had never had the heart to tell her that the majority of the strapping elves she flirted shamelessly with were probably actually forty-year-old men living in their mothers’ basements.