I was creeping through the aisles, all senses alert, when a soft groan made me freeze. It came from the other side of the crate wall, and I quickly leaped up top to avoid detection, careful to land silently. Peering over the edge, I blinked.
A soldier lay in the middle of the corridor, facedown on the cement, his gun at his side. I watched, ready to pounce if he got up. Maybe he’d tripped, or maybe he was just taking a nap, I didn’t know. But he didn’t rise, though his legs moved weakly and faint groans came from his huddled form. Something was wrong.
I dropped soundlessly to the floor, gazing around for his teammates. No one seemed to be around. They were probably stalking different corners of the room, looking for me. The man in the aisle groaned again, tried to get up and failed, slumping back to the cement. He was obviously hurt, and there was no one around but me.
“Hey,” I said, trotting forward. I wished I could’ve Shifted into human form and not look so...targetlike, but as always, I was nude for these little exercises. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
He moaned again, and I stepped closer. “Can you walk?” I asked urgently. “Do you want me to get Scary Talon La—”
Quick as a snake, he flipped onto his back, leveled his gun and me and fired point-blank at my chest.
Dammit! I flinched back, not bothering to dodge, knowing it was useless. I wasn’t even surprised when the rest of the squad appeared from hidden nooks and crannies and fired on me, too. Dammit, dammit, dammit, I walked right into that one. I’m sure she will have all kinds of things to say about this.
Closing my eyes, I hunkered down until the storm of paint finally stopped, and waited for my trainer to appear.
As usual, it didn’t take long. Scary Talon Lady emerged from an aisle, shaking her head, her eyes crinkled with disgust. I growled, curling my lips back, as the soldiers took their guns and vanished again, including the one on the floor.
“I know,” I growled before she could say anything. “Pathetic. You don’t have to tell me, I know what I did wrong.”
Her eyes bored into me. “If you knew,” she said in a soft, unamused voice, “why did you do it?”
“I...I thought he was hurt! Really hurt. He’s not a soldier of St. George—if he really was injured, I wanted to help him.”
“And that,” my trainer said in a hard, icy voice, pointing with a sharp red nail, “is exactly why you failed. Who cares if he was hurt? He was still your enemy, and you had no business wanting to aid him.” She straightened, giving me a look of contempt. “What is it you should have done, hatchling?”
I bit back the snarl rising to my throat. “Killed him.”
“Without mercy,” my trainer agreed. “Without hesitation. If you are ever in this type of situation again, I expect you to get it right. Because you may never have another chance if you don’t.”
* * *
Dante was on the couch watching some kind of action movie when I got home. He lay there looking perfectly nonchalant, with his head on the armrest, one leg dangling off the side and a soda resting on his stomach. I shook my head as I came through the door, on my way up to the shower. Dante never came home looking like a cow exploded on him.
He glanced up at me, and I held my breath. Ever since that night in my room after the party, we’d been walking on eggshells around each other. In typical Dante fashion, he never spoke of the encounter and acted like everything was fine. I knew better. It wasn’t fine, we weren’t fine, but I didn’t know how to fix it.
“Good God,” he commented as I paused in the frame, feeling hot and sticky and generally cranky. “Were you swimming in it today?”
“Shut up.” The response was mostly out of habit, something easy and familiar, and the tension between us eased a bit as I made my way toward the steps. “Why are you home, anyway?” I asked, keeping my voice light, uncaring. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something with Calvin and Tyler today?”
“I’m meeting them at the Hut in an hour,” Dante said, taking a swig from the can on his stomach. “Tyler found a new rock-climbing spot just out of town, so we’re heading up there to check it out.” He glanced at me and offered a wry half grin. “You’re welcome to ‘tag along’ if you like. The guys won’t care, and I’m pretty sure you can keep up.”
He was extending an olive branch and, another time, I would’ve gladly accepted. Beating Dante and his friends to the top of a cliff was exactly what I needed to clear the bad air between us. Tonight, though, I had other plans. Plans that made my stomach squirm in a way surfing, dancing or rock climbing never did. Tonight, I would be with Garret.
“No, thanks,” I told Dante. “I’ll kick your ass some other time.”
He shrugged and went back to watching TV. I continued toward the stairs but paused, hovering at the foot of the steps, watching him until he looked up again and raised an eyebrow.
“Yes?”
“Dante...” I hesitated, wondering if I should tempt fate like this, especially when we were still on shaky ground. But I continued, anyway. “Do you ever wonder...what they’re training us for?”
“What do you mean?”
Hope flickered. At least he wasn’t immediately brushing me off, or pretending he’d forgotten something in his room so he could leave. I raised my paint-drenched arms. “Well, look at me,” I stated. “They’re obviously not teaching us the same things. I’m running around getting shot at by lunatics with guns, and you’re sitting in a nice room learning Tea Ceremony or something.”
“Not yet,” Dante said, smirking to show he wasn’t being serious. “Tea Ceremony is next month.”
“Why is our training so different?” I went on, ignoring his last statement. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think they’re going to separate us. You’ll go to some nice academy for important rich students, and I...I’ll be sent off to military school or something.”
“You’re overreacting.” Dante swung his feet to the floor, watching me with his elbows on his knees. “They’re not going to separate us.”
“How do you know?” I demanded.
“Because my trainer told me.”
“Oh, well, how great for you,” I shot back, not knowing where this sudden anger was coming from. Dante scowled, but the suppressed rage and frustration from this morning, from every session with Scary Talon Lady, surged up with a vengeance. “My trainer doesn’t tell me anything. Just lets me know how pathetic I am, that I’ll never be a proper dragon, that I’m a waste of time and Talon shouldn’t have even bothered hatching me. I hate going there. I hate her, and Talon, and this whole stupid—”
“Ember, that’s enough!”
Dante’s voice filled the room, sharp and guttural. Stunned, I fell silent, staring at him. “Be angry at your trainer all you like,” he said firmly. “Be angry at me all you like. But start talking like that, and it sounds like you could be harboring rogue tendencies.”
“So what?” I challenged. “Maybe I am. Who would tell them? You?”
He gave me an angry, hooded stare, and didn’t answer. Rising from the couch, he vanished into his room, shutting the door behind him, a clear message that he didn’t want to talk anymore. Feeling abandoned and despondent, I showered, then wandered down to the beach, walking along the water’s edge.
I ached, both from the bruises I’d gotten in training and from my twin’s cold dismissal. Nothing had changed between us, not really. The sun warmed my skin, and a breeze fluttered in from the ocean, smelling of salt and the waves I loved so much. Both would normally be a comfort, but not today. I was going to see Garret that evening, and while that made my stomach dance with anticipation and excitement, I couldn’t talk to him about dragon problems. And Dante was out of the question, at least for today. Maybe forever.
If you need to talk, Firebrand, about anything, I’m here.
Reaching into my short
s, I pulled out my phone and stared at it. After going back and forth with myself several times, wondering if Talon was monitoring my phone, as well, I finally touched the screen and began typing a message, making it as vague as I could.
Can we talk?
I hit Send and waited. The sun beat down on my head and flashed across the phone screen, making me squint and shade it with my hands. The answer came back almost immediately.
When?
I swallowed. Right now, I texted. Meet me at the pier?
Again, only a few heartbeats passed before his message popped onto the screen.
On my way.
Riley
Perfect. Sending the last text, I lowered the phone and smiled. Already starting to question things, huh, Firebrand? That didn’t take long.
“I’m heading out,” I announced, grabbing my keys and jacket from the counter. “I’m meeting Ember at the pier, so I might come back with a guest. If that’s the case, we’ll probably leave town in the morning, so be ready to move out fast.” I glanced at the only other person in the room and frowned. “Hey, other target who is actively wanted by Talon. Repeat what I said so I know you still care.”
Wes, sitting at the dining room table with his laptop, didn’t even look up as I paused in the foyer. “Meet a bloody hatchling, get ready to move out, done this a million times, blah blah blah,” he said, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Have fun with your hatchling. Oh, and on the way back, if you don’t have a chance run-in with St. George, we’re out of Red Bull.”
* * *
“Uh-oh,” I commented as Ember, perched atop the wooden rails, glanced up and saw me. “I know that look.”
She frowned, the sea breeze tugging at her hair. Around us, the long gray boardwalk, stretching out over the water, bustled with activity. Mothers with strollers, sweaty joggers, couples walking hand in hand and fishermen hanging their lines off the edge, all milling around completely unaware of the two dragons standing next to the railing. A woman and her tiny white dog passed us, and the thing stopped peeing on everything long enough to yip at me hysterically before being carted off by its owner. I smirked. Such a noisy little mouthful. One snap, and it would be gone.
“What look?” Ember demanded when the woman and the yappy hors d’oeuvre left. I caught her staring at me while my attention was distracted by the pooch, and bit back a smile. “That ‘I hate my trainer and wish he would die’ look,” I replied. When she gaped at me, I chuckled. “Like I said, I’ve been around the block with Talon a few times. It doesn’t get any easier from here, trust me.”
“Great,” she muttered darkly. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
I caught a tiny flash of color on her bare shoulder, a sliver of red that looked like dried blood. Only, it was too bright to be blood, and memories crowded my brain, making me wince with sympathy. “Oh, Firebrand.” I sighed, lightly touching the red splotch. “Soldiers and paintball guns, huh? That sucks.”
She jerked up, eyes widening. “You, too?”
“Yup.” Stepping beside her, I leaned back, resting my elbows on the railing. Ember watched me, green eyes awed and intense, burning the side of my face. “Only, mine were rubber bullets at first, which you wouldn’t think would hurt, but damn, they sting like a mother when they hit. They switched to paintball guns when some poor bastard got his eye put out.” I shook my head and gave her a rueful look. “Be thankful you were hatched after the new regime started. It’s only a little unbearable now.”
She wrinkled her nose and gazed back at the ocean. “So, what happens next?” she asked, kicking one ankle against the railing. “After this training is done? What are they planning for me when I’m finished?”
“I don’t know, Firebrand.” I hopped onto the railing beside her. “It depends, I guess, on what they have you slotted for. Every dragon has a place in the organization, and your initial training is to determine if you’ll excel at where they want to put you. Really, they’ve watched you since your hatching, trying to decide where you’ll fit. If you pass this stage, they’ll announce your faction placement, and then your training begins in earnest.” I snorted. “Course, they don’t tell you what you’re going to be until they deem you ready for it.”
“What were you?” Ember asked.
I looked at her. She gazed back, and my dragon stirred in response. “I was a Basilisk,” I said, and she furrowed her brow, clearly not familiar with that position. “A spy, basically,” I went on. “One of the prime factions Talon uses in the war with St. George.”
“I’ve never seen us at war.”
“We’re always at war with St. George, Firebrand.” I remembered those years, the years I was still with the organization, bloody and dark and terrible, and repressed a shiver. “Yes, much of Talon—the Chameleons, the Monitors and the Elder Wyrm’s council—never see the war. They hide deep within human society and don’t engage the soldiers of St. George if they can help it. They’re far too important to the organization to risk discovery. But Talon has elite agents they’ll sometimes send against St. George. Never in force, and never in an all-out assault. Our numbers are too small, and the humans in general would slaughter us if this ever became public. There’s just so damn many of them.
“But,” I continued as Ember listened in rapt fascination, not even caring that there were humans around, “Talon does have a number of trained operatives they send out, striking where they can, usually from shadow. I was one of them. Someone to gather information on the Order, sneak into their bases to steal data or sabotage equipment, discover which of their own agents weren’t loyal, basically act against Talon’s enemies.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Oh, it was.” I grinned. “I can’t remember the times I escaped St. George by the skin of my teeth. Took a few bullets, avoided an ambush, dodged a sniper attack, that sort of thing. Fun times.”
“Is that why you went rogue?”
The question took me by surprise, and I sobered quickly. Trust Ember to get to the heart of the matter. “No,” I replied, shaking my head. Memories flared up again, and I shoved them back. “It wasn’t St. George that made me run. It was Talon itself.”
She gazed at me, every bit of her attention focused like a hawk. “Why?”
My heartbeat picked up, and my mouth was suddenly dry. This was it, the perfect opportunity. I wouldn’t get a better chance. “Because, Firebrand—”
The phone shrilled loudly in my jacket pocket.
“Dammit.” Sliding off the rail to the deck, I pulled it out and gazed down at the number. Of course it was Wes; he was the only one, besides Ember, who had this number. “Hang on.” I sighed, moving a few feet away. “Lemme take this. I’ll be right back.”
“Wes,” I said cordially when I put the phone to my ear, “for your sake, you had better be halfway down a dragon’s throat right now, because otherwise I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Where the bloody hell are you?” Wes spat, making my gut squeeze tight. “Get back here right now. We’ve got another problem!”
I glanced at Ember, then hunched forward, lowering my voice. “What type of problem?”
“The type that has scales and claws and is sitting on our doorstep problem!”
“Shit.” I dragged a hand through my hair, cursing his timing. But this could definitely not be ignored. “I’ll be right there,” I said, and hung up, turning back to Ember.
She hopped from the railing and gazed up at me, concerned. “Problems at home?”
Dammit, I was so close. “Yeah,” I growled, resisting the urge to kick something. “I have to go. But this isn’t over, okay?” I stepped close, putting a hand on her arm. Inside, something flared, a rush of heat through my veins, nearly making me jump back. The same reaction my dragon instincts had had at the party, roaring to life. “I still want to talk to you,” I said as E
mber’s cheeks flushed, as well, making me suspect she felt the same. “I have more information on Talon, and I think you’ll want to hear it. Promise you’ll meet me again.”
She stared back, unafraid. “When?”
“Soon.” It was more a promise to myself than to Ember, a claim that whatever this dire problem was, it wouldn’t keep me from her. I squeezed her arm and backed away, forcing a grin as I retreated. “Don’t worry, Firebrand. I’ll be around. See you soon.”
Ember
I watched Riley jog to his motorcycle, swing aboard and roar off down the street. Part of me wished I could go with him, longed to Shift and fly after the rogue, apocalyptic consequences be damned. My skin still surged from where he’d touched me, the dragon dancing all up and down my veins. She wanted Riley. Not in the way I missed Garret, or thought about him constantly. This was more...primal? Instinctive? I didn’t know the exact word, really, but one thing was for certain. My dragon wanted Riley; she almost ached for him. And she would not be ignored.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. She wanted Cobalt. Which was ridiculous, because Riley and Cobalt were the same. The boy with the lopsided smirk, messy black hair and almost-gold eyes was the same being as the proud blue dragon who had soared the waves with me that night. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand how my instincts, once a seamless part of me, could be so alien now. Almost like I was two different creatures: dragon and human.
I shook myself and started down the pier, back toward the beach. Inner turmoil aside, I did know a little more about Talon now. None of it was really bad, though. Not yet. Even the war with St. George wasn’t a surprise. The dragonslayers wanted our extinction. Why shouldn’t we fight back and defend ourselves?