Trinity sighed, thinking back to their conversation in the barn. Emmy had been so frustrated. So angry. And that was after spending the night flying free. What would she have been like if Caleb hadn’t been letting her stretch her wings on a regular basis?
“She has to understand it’s for her own good.”
“She’s a teenager, Trin,” Caleb replied bluntly. “Or the dragon equivalent of a teenager anyway, seeing as they mature much faster than we do. But the idea is the same.” He gave her a hard smile. “Imagine a thirteen-year-old who can breathe fire. Do you want to be the one to tell her she’s grounded and can’t go to the mall?”
Trinity grimaced. “Point taken.”
His smile faded. “Keep her locked up and, at best, she’ll start to resent you. At worst…” He shrugged. “She may turn against you. Find another to bond with instead.”
Trinity stared at him, startled. “What?” she cried out before she could stop herself. “She wouldn’t do that. I’m her Fire Kissed. We’re bonded.”
We’re destined…
“Only because she chose you to be,” Caleb pointed out. “And she can un-choose you just as easily.”
Trinity bit her lower lip, wanting to argue. Wanting to insist that Caleb didn’t know what he was talking about. That Emmy was like her sister, her daughter, her best friend—that the dragon would never even think to leave her side. But how did she know that for sure? She thought back to Emmy’s secret nights with Caleb. Her mysterious broken scale.
Emmy had asked Trin if she trusted her. But did Emmy trust Trin?
Slumping to a nearby boulder, she scrubbed her face with her hands. I’m doing the best I can, Em. You know that, right?
She felt Caleb’s pitying stare. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice softening. “Trust me, I’m not trying to freak you out.” He dropped to his knees and took her hands in his. His touch was warm, gentle, and against her better judgment, she found herself meeting his eyes with her own. For one fleeting moment, she wished she could just hide out here in this world forever and leave all the struggles of real life behind.
But that, of course, was impossible. Caleb might be able to justify checking out, but she couldn’t. The world needed her. And so did Emmy.
“Look, Trin,” Caleb continued. “I’m only trying to get you to face reality. We can’t go on like this, despite what my illustrious brother might think. We have to do something. We can’t keep running away.”
“You’re one to talk about running away,” she couldn’t help but mutter.
“Excuse me?” Caleb’s eyes grew hard. He dropped her hands.
She sighed then made a sweeping gesture over the bleak world around them. “How many times have you come here in the last few months?” she asked. “It seems like every time I turn around, you’re back in the Nether.”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”
“Is it?” She raised an eyebrow. “You had thirteen gems last week. How many do you have left?”
His face flushed. “I don’t know. Plenty, I’m sure. I didn’t count them.”
“Well I did,” she said, “before I came here to find you. You have two left. That means in the last week you’ve come here eleven times.”
A shadow of horror crossed Caleb’s face, as if he himself hadn’t realized how much he’d been using. And maybe, she thought uneasily, he hadn’t.
“You shouldn’t be going through my stuff,” he growled, as if that were the real issue here. “And besides, what do you care how often I come?” He scrambled to his feet, turning away so she couldn’t see his face. “This is between me and Fred. It has nothing to do with you. I come here for her. She needs me.”
He gave the teal dragon a heartbreaking look, and Trin winced at the anguish she recognized on his face. She tried to imagine what it would be like if Emmy was the one who had died. Would she herself be finding reasons to come here every day?
Still…
“Look, I’m sorry. I love Fred too,” she said. “She’s a great dragon. Super smart and super sweet. But she’s also dead, Caleb. And there’s nothing you can do to change that fact.” She sighed, hating the harsh hurt she was piling on with her reality check. But it had to be done. “Emmy, on the other hand, is still alive. She’s the one who needs our attention now.”
Caleb scowled, the sand swirling around his legs as if swept up in a storm. Behind him, lightning slashed across the sky, mirroring his mood. “She doesn’t need me. She’s got you and my brother. I’m just the a-hole who put her life in danger, remember?”
Trinity shook her head. “Caleb, I already apologized for—”
“Look, you and my brother obviously have everything worked out perfectly between you. Emmy doesn’t need me screwing things up all the time. Hell, it’d probably be better for everyone if I just stayed in here with Fred forever.”
“That’s not true,” she cried, her heart breaking at the hurt she could hear hidden beneath his anger. “We do need you.”
But he had already turned from her, storming across the arid plain, leaving her and his dragon behind. She watched him go for a moment, her stomach lurching with nausea mixed with fear. He wouldn’t really stay here, would he? In this horrible, lonely place?
Her mind flashed to the last time she’d seen her mother—of her sunken cheeks, her ghostly pallor, her glazed-over eyes. The Nether had stolen away the woman’s very soul and, in the end, death had been the only possible means of escape.
Trinity hadn’t been able to save her mother. But Caleb…
Somehow, she found her feet, sprinting after him, reaching him and jerking him around by his arm. His gaze caught hers, trapping her where she stood, and for a moment they just looked at one another as her knees threatened to buckle out from under her.
“I need you,” she corrected in a hoarse whisper. It was the only thing to say.
He stared at her for a moment, anger and hurt warring on his face, as if he wanted desperately to believe her but just couldn’t. Despair washed over her and she found herself moving toward him. Wanting to show him what she couldn’t speak.
But before her lips could brush against his, he pushed her away, with a gentleness that belied the tortured look on his face. “Don’t,” he said in a strangled voice. “Please don’t, Trin. It’ll only make it harder.” He stared down at the ground. “And it’s so damn hard already.”
Trin’s heart broke. “Caleb—”
He shook his head vehemently. “Look, I’ll be there for you, okay?” he cried. “You know I will. I dedicated my life to you long ago and nothing has changed. Whatever you want, whatever you need from me, I’ll do it. I’ll always do it.” He gave her an anguished look. “Just please don’t ask me to walk away from my dragon. That’s the one thing I can never do.” He paused, turning away. “Even for you.”
Chapter Eight
“There it is,” Scarlet whispered as she crouched down behind a rusty tractor, a few feet from the darkened farmhouse. Her gaze traveled to the adjacent barn and she closed her eyes to listen. While her ears could pick up nothing beyond the typical cicada and cricket chorus soundtracking the Texas night, her mind caught something else entirely. She opened her eyes, beckoning for Rebekah to catch up. “It’s in there,” she told her friend, pointing to the barn. “I’m sure of it.”
Rebekah joined her behind the tractor, peering around its rear wheel and leveling her eyes on the darkened farmhouse and barn. Then she turned back to Scarlet. “How do you know?” she asked, her voice filled with skepticism. “It’s so dark I can barely see my hand in front of my face, never mind a fire-breathing beast hiding out in a barn.”
Scarlet shrugged, not sure how to explain. Truthfully, she had no idea how she knew—just that she did, without a shadow of a doubt. Almost as if she’d been gifted with some kind of crazy dragon-homing device directly implant
ed into her brain. Had the dragon’s blood connected her to the creature in some weird psychic way, letting her know where it was at all times? That was, of course, how these things always seemed to play out in the fantasy novels she’d read, where poor peasant girls of no consequence bonded with dragons and became heroes of the realm.
But this wasn’t a fantasy. It was real life. And how this was all happening was a complete mystery. But it didn’t matter, she told herself. The important thing was they were there. They’d get in, they’d get their video, and they’d get back to the football game before anyone knew they were gone.
“Why would a dragon be hiding out at the Old McCormick place anyway?” Rebekah added, looking doubtfully at the neglected yard, strangled by weeds. “You’d think a creature of myth and legend would choose someplace a little more…I don’t know…glamorous?”
“Maybe the Four Seasons was booked for the weekend,” Scarlet suggested wryly.
“Or they just couldn’t afford the fire insurance premiums?”
Scarlet giggled, gesturing for Rebekah to follow her as she left the tractor and crept toward the barn, careful to keep her footsteps light and not make too much noise. The last thing they needed was to scare away the dragon before they could film it.
Just one shot. One really good shot, Scarlet told herself. That’s all we need.
She still admittedly felt a little guilty about the whole thing. Like she was some evil paparazzi, stalking the poor dragon in order to exploit it for cash. But she made Rebekah promise they’d remove the identifying geotags and not tell anyone where they filmed the footage. This way, the dragon couldn’t be tracked down by anyone else who might have a more nefarious purpose in mind.
No dragons will be harmed in the making of this video, she reminded herself. And no mothers will be either…ever again…if all goes to plan.
She imagined her mother’s face when she presented her with the check. It didn’t have to be the millions that Rebekah had bragged about—just a few grand for a security deposit and a U-Haul rental. Enough to pack their bags and drive out to New Mexico, to get a place on the reservation near Grandmother and start a new life, just the two of them. Leaving the monster behind for good. He was too lazy, too unorganized, and, of course, too broke to follow them that far. And she was pretty sure out of sight meant out of mind.
Somehow she managed to reach the barn without tripping over any rusty farm equipment. Rebekah joined her a moment later, flicking on her cell phone and shining it at the front doors. The dim light revealed a large, imposing padlock, securing the doors in place. Damn. Scarlet felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was locked from the outside. Which meant there was probably no dragon squatting on the inside. Had she been wrong?
“Maybe someone locked it inside the barn?” Rebekah suggested, a little too kindly, as if trying to spare Scarlet’s feelings.
“Yeah, maybe,” she muttered, walking around the barn with her own cell phone shining, standing on her tiptoes to try to look in the windows. Unfortunately, it appeared as if they’d all been blocked out from the inside with dark blankets. She sighed, returning to Rebekah, disappointment dropping like lead in her stomach.
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe my sixth sense was just a side effect of today’s Salisbury steak special…”
Rebekah gave her an exaggerated shocked look. “Are you saying you’re already thwarted, Scarlet-in-the-library-with-the-revolver?” She clucked in mock disappointment.
“I take it you’re not?”
“Come on. No way is some pesky padlock going to keep me from fame, fortune, and a Ford Fiesta. Watch and learn, grasshopper.”
Scarlet watched, eyebrows raised, as her friend pulled out a portable handsaw from her backpack, likely swiped from her father’s toolbox. “Will that break the lock?” she asked, a shred of hope rising within her.
“Well, it’s no sonic screwdriver, but it should do the job,” Rebekah replied with a grin. She grabbed the lock and began sawing.
“Remind me to text you next time I get locked out of the house,” Scarlet said with grudging admiration.
But as her friend worked at the lock, her apprehension grew. What if she was wrong about all of this? What if they went through all this trouble to break and enter only to find nothing more than a rusty toolbox and a few dusty saddles inside?
Then we’ll be right back where we started from, she told herself. Nothing lost, nothing gained.
But if she was right…
Promise me, Scarlet, promise me you’ll look after Mom.
She squared her jaw. The dragon would be there. She had to be.
“Ta-da!” Rebekah proclaimed a moment later as the lock cracked open. “It’s show time!”
“Shhh…” Scarlet hissed, slapping her on the arm. “Can we at least vaguely attempt to be stealthy here?” There were no lights coming from the farmhouse, but still. You never knew who might be in earshot. And then there was the dragon itself, if it was indeed in the barn.
“Sorry,” Rebekah whispered. “I just got excited. Who knew a life of crime could be so exhilarating?”
Scarlet didn’t dignify her with an answer. Instead, she reached out, wrapping her hand around the door handle and slowly pulling it open. The rusty hinges groaned in protest, and for a moment the door refused to budge. But with Rebekah’s help, they finally managed to pry it open enough to slip through.
“Ew!” Rebekah whispered as she stuck her head in—then quickly back out. “It’s like the freaking bog of eternal stench in there!” She pinched her wrinkled nose. “Someone seriously needs to change drago’s litter box.” She reached into her bag for her dad’s video camera. Pulling off the lens cap, she turned it on and switched it to night vision. The view screen illuminated an otherworldly green color as the inside of the barn came into focus.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’m rolling. Here be dragons—take one.” She slipped into the barn, panning the camera from left to right. Scarlet followed, her misgivings increasing by the second. It was so dark all she could focus on was the glow coming from the camera, a green circle bobbing in midair. She squinted at it, trying to see what—
A pair of round eyes blinked back at her.
“Oh my God! Oh my freaking God!” Rebekah shrieked, dropping the camera to the ground.
“Shhh!” Scarlet hissed. “What are you—”
She felt her friend push past her, diving for the door.
“Get back here!” she cried, dashing after her. “What about your Ford Fiesta?”
But Rebekah was already halfway to the tractor. By the time Scarlet got there, her friend was on her bike and ready to go. From the glow of her cell phone, Scarlet could see her face had turned pure white.
“Forget it. It was a crazy idea,” Rebekah declared. “I’m going back to the game.”
“You left your dad’s video camera in the barn.”
“He can buy a new one. Did you see that thing, Scarlet? Did you see it?”
“Yes, I saw it. That was kind of the whole point of coming here, remember?”
“I thought you were joking,” Rebekah cried, sounding close to tears. “I thought we were just messing around. That it was going to turn out to be a mutated goat or something. But that thing…It’s real. It’s…” She shook her head angrily. “Get on your bike and let’s go.”
Scarlet surprised herself by shaking her head. “No.”
“Are you insane?”
“We came here to get that video. I’m not leaving until I get it.” After all, it was just a new car for Rebekah. But Scarlet’s whole future depended on these particular fifteen seconds of fame.
“Fine. But if you’re not back in twenty minutes, I’m going to call the cops.”
Scarlet let out a frustrated breath. “You won’t need to. I’ll be in and out. No big deal.”
Rebekah
gave her one more disparaging look then pedaled her bike off down the road. Scarlet watched her go, sighing, then turned back to the barn. She was on her own.
“Okay, dragon,” she muttered. “Hope you’re ready for your close-up.”
Slowly she made her way back to the barn. The door was still cracked and she wondered, for a moment, why the creature hadn’t tried to follow them outside. With careful steps, she slipped through the doors and found the camera on the ground, still rolling and glowing green. Picking it up, she scanned the barn again, her hands shaking so hard she wasn’t sure even steady cam could compensate.
“Hey, dragon,” she whispered hoarsely. “Are you in here? I’m not going to hurt you. I just need a little video, okay? It’s for a good cause, I swear.”
As if in answer, the dragon stepped out from the shadows. Now that her eyes had adjusted a bit, Scarlet could make out her silhouette. It was small. Well, small for a dragon, anyway. The night before in the woods, she’d been so freaked out, she’d pictured the creature to be larger than life. But in reality, it wasn’t much bigger than her neighbor’s Golden Retriever. Was that normal for real-life dragons? Or was she just a baby?
She trained the video camera on the creature. “That’s it,” she whispered. “Good girl. That’s a good girl.”
Good girl? What does she think I am, some kind of dog?
Scarlet squeaked, nearly dropping the camera. She staggered backward, her eyes bugging from her head as she stared at the dragon.
“Oh my God, you can talk?” she cried.
The dragon looked just as startled. It backed up slowly, looking at Scarlet with wary eyes.
You can hear me?
The voice whispered across her consciousness like a gentle breeze, though the creature’s mouth never moved. It was high-pitched, young, definitely female—and definitely belonging to the dragon standing in front of her. Even though that was, of course, totally, utterly impossible. But then, so was everything else about this whole scenario.
An excitement swelled in Scarlet’s stomach. A dragon—a talking dragon. This was getting cooler and cooler by the second.