Scorched

Chapter Fifteen

“Trinity! Wake up! Wake up!”

Trinity shrieked as rough hands grabbed her, shaking her shoulders, forcing her awake. Her eyes flew open. Connor stood above her, a strained expression on his face. “They’ve found us,” he said in a tight voice. “We have to get out of here.”

The jolt of terror was a better wake-up call than any shot of espresso, and Trinity was up in an instant, stuffing her feet into her shoes. As she looked around, eyes still bleary, her foggy brain tried to piece together the night. Connor had left to get her grandfather. She’d gone upstairs, drained from her trip to the Nether, and collapsed onto her old bed, hoping to rest her eyes for just a moment before they returned.

“Where’s Grandpa?” she asked. “Did you get him?”

He shook his head grimly. “There was…a complication,” he told her, shoving a coat, then a backpack into her hands. The dragon egg was inside, she realized, feeling the warm, smooth shell under the canvas, even now tempting her to pull it from its sheath and cradle it in her arms. Pushing the urge from her mind, she slipped the straps over her shoulders instead. Then she turned to Connor. He put a finger to his lips.

“They’re downstairs,” he hissed. “We need to go out the window.”

Who was downstairs? The government? Or worse…the Dracken? Panic surged through her as she watched Connor force open a creaky window at the other end of the room. A complication. What did that mean? Was her grandpa all right? Or had they gotten him after all? A cold knot formed in her stomach as nightmarish possibilities whirled through her brain.

“Go!” Connor instructed, gesturing to the now-open window. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Forcing down her fear, Trin managed to climb out through the window frame onto the sloped roof. The temperature had dropped and the wind rushed in her ears. Thank goodness Connor had thought to give her a coat. Gingerly, she slid her way down to the edge of the slick roof, peering over the side. Oh God. She bit her lower lip, terror racing through her. They were still up so high!

“You’ve got to jump!” Connor commanded, his voice suddenly in her ear, startling her and almost causing her to slip. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her. “I’ve jammed the window, but it won’t take them long to break it.”

She stared down at the ground below, which seemed to weave in and out of focus. Her stomach roiled. “I’m…I’m afraid of heights,” she confessed, a sudden dizziness overwhelming her.

Connor looked at her as if she were crazy. “But you’re Fire Kissed!” he protested.

“What?”

He waved her off. “Never mind,” he said. “I’ll go first.” Without pausing, he proceeded to push himself off the roof, landing hard on the ground with an omph. After righting himself, he looked back up at her, holding out his arms. “I’ll catch you,” he shouted. “But you have to jump now!”

The ground loomed, seeming a thousand miles away. Above, she could hear a banging sound, footsteps entering the bedroom.

“Come on!” Connor begged from below. “Hurry!”

The window began to creak.

Trinity sucked in a breath, realizing she had no choice. She closed her eyes and slipped off the roof. Air whooshed in her ears like thunder as she flailed to the ground, her mind spinning with visions of cracked ankles and smashed wrists—

Strong arms seized her, breaking her fall. She opened her eyes. Connor’s face was inches away, his mouth locked into a self-satisfied smirk. “See?” he said, setting her down onto the ground. “I told you.” He motioned to a motorcycle leaning against a dilapidated fence. “Get on behind me,” he instructed as he threw a leg over the bike.

She stared at him, her still half-asleep brain torn with confusion. “Where did you get a motorcycle?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just come on! We’ve got to go, now!”

She reluctantly complied, climbing on behind him and holding on tight. Above them, the window shattered and a voice called out into the night.

“Trinity! Wait!”

She tried to look up, but the motorcycle took off, flying across her former front yard at way too fast a speed. Down the road, up the off ramp, and back onto the abandoned interstate without slowing down. She tightened her grip, clinging on for dear life as icy wind blasted her already frozen ears and the potholes from the abandoned highway caused the bike to bounce and weave dangerously.

As they passed old exit 13 without slowing down, Trinity bit her lower lip, worry worming through her insides. What had happened with her grandpa? Connor had promised her he’d get him. Did he now mean to leave him behind?

“Where are we going?” she tried to ask, her pulse kicking up in alarm.

But he either couldn’t hear her or chose not to answer.

Chapter Sixteen

“Connor! Could we please stop for a moment? I’m about to fall off the bike.”

The sun was rising, bruising the horizon with blues and pinks, as Trinity squirmed in her seat. They’d been riding for hours and she was sore and frozen, not to mention confused and scared. All she wanted to do was stop for two seconds and get some answers. Like why had they had to make such a quick escape? Who had come after them at her mother’s house? And, most importantly, what had happened with her grandpa and where was he now?

To her relief, Connor pulled the bike up to a stop sign, then dropped his feet to the ground. “Sorry,” he said, allowing her to dismount before parking the bike a few feet off the road. “I just wanted to make sure we put enough distance between us and them. We can rest here a few minutes.”

As he knelt down to check the bike, Trinity assessed their surroundings. They’d left the highway hours before, Connor choosing back roads over main thoroughfares in an apparent attempt to keep a low profile. Which was smart, she supposed, even though she found the desolation more than a bit creepy. From what she’d been able to tell, they’d crossed into New Mexico over an hour ago, and since then there’d been nothing but brown, empty desert, stretching out on both sides of the road, as far as the eye could see. The only signs of life were the beady-eyed vultures, circling the roadkill, and they hadn’t passed another car in hours. And here she’d thought Old Oak Grove was in the middle of nowhere. Her hometown was a bustling metropolis compared to this

Except…she squinted her eyes, peering south. Was that a small town out there, far in the distance? From here she could just make out the shadows of a few one-story buildings, scattered across the landscape. Some tiny, nothing town the rest of the world had forgotten, she supposed, just waking up, ready to face the day.

To celebrate Christmas, she realized dully. Because it was indeed Christmas morning, as much as it didn’t feel like it. She sighed. What was it about this particular holiday that seemed determined to make everything in her life go to hell? Next year—if they survived all this—she should just cancel the whole event.

The thought made her cringe. What was she doing here? All alone, in the middle of the desert, a fugitive from the law, with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a mythical dragon egg in her pouch. And her grandpa still MIA.

She fumbled for her phone. Maybe he’d left her a message…

“No!”

The phone was knocked from her hand. It skittered to the ground, the screen cracking on impact. Trinity turned to Connor in shock. “What are you—?” she started, but the words died in her throat as she caught the look in his eyes.

She dove for her phone. But he was too quick, grabbing it and slamming it down on the pavement. Trinity watched, horrified, as her only link to her grandpa smashed into a thousand useless pieces.

“What the hell did you do that for?” she demanded furiously.

Connor stared at her, his blue eyes wild. “You can’t let anyone know where we are!” He grabbed her roughly by the hand, his fingernails digging into her burn. She screeched in surprise and pain. “Now get back on the bike. We need to keep moving.”

She yanked her arm away, staring at him in disbelief and fury. What was going on here? This was not the same Connor from the night before. The one who’d held her close and comforted her—the one who’d kissed her softly and promised to keep her grandpa safe. It was as if he’d transformed into another person altogether.

“Connor, what’s wrong with you?” she demanded, the hurt in her voice impossible to hide. “You’re scaring me!”

Connor let out a frustrated breath, squeezing his hands into fists, then loosening them. “Look, I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just…I don’t think you understand how much danger you’re in here. I’m only trying to protect you.”

“I know you’re trying to protect me,” she tried to reason. “But I also need some answers. Like where are we going, for one?”

He frowned. “To see some friends who can help us.”

Friends? Trinity cocked her head in confusion. He’d never mentioned any friends. In fact, it was pretty clear he’d been on a solo mission. She stared at him, warning bells going off in her head.

“What about the volcano?” she asked slowly.

A shadow of confusion flickered across his face before he was able to mask it with a reassuring smile. But it was enough. Fear cut her to the core. Oh God. She’d been such a fool.

“You’re not Connor,” she realized aloud. “You’re Caleb. His twin.”

He looked at her for a moment, as if trying to decide something. Then his mouth quirked to a grin. “At your service, m’lady,” he quipped, dropping to an exaggerated bow. He actually had the nerve to look pleased with himself. She squeezed her hands into fists.

“How dare you?” she cried, furious beyond belief—at him for tricking her, at herself for falling for such a stupid trick. “You can’t kidnap me!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Um, I think the word you’re looking for is ‘rescue.’ I rescued you.”

“Oh really? Since when is dragging someone out of their bed in the middle of the night considered a rescue?”

“Simple. When that someone is in the clutches of a guy who plans to kill her.”

She stared at him. Stunned. He gave her a smug smile, followed by an impish shrug. It was all she could do not to punch his lights out.

“You’re crazy,” she growled. “There’s no way Connor would…” She trailed off, doubtfully. Was she really so sure of that? After all, she’d only met the guy yesterday…

No. That was crazy. Connor had saved her life. More than once, in fact. If he’d wanted to kill her, he could have easily done it. He’d had a million opportunities.

“Look, I’m sorry I had to trick you, but trust me, it was for your own good. If you’d just get back on the damned bike, I’ll explain everything.” He made a step toward her.

“Get the hell away from me!” she hissed. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Caleb regarded her, a regretful look on his face. Now that she realized it was him, she could clearly see the differences in their eyes. “I’m sorry, Trinity,” he replied. “But I’m afraid you have no choice.”

He lunged at her with lightning speed. But she was ready for him. Grabbing the backpack, she slammed the egg at his head with all her might, half praying it would just break, then and there, and end this once and for all.

But the egg remained intact. Caleb, on the other hand, collapsed onto the ground, out cold.

Trinity: one. Crazy evil twin from the future: zero.

Trinity tossed her head with satisfaction, kicking him a few times to make sure he was really out. Then she turned to the motorcycle, giving it a doubtful look. Even if she did figure out how to turn it on, she’d never be able to ride it. Instead, she yanked out what appeared to be an important wire, then took off down the road on foot. She turned back once, to make sure Caleb hadn’t made a quick recovery. But he was still prostrate where she’d left him.

“Come on, dragon,” she whispered to the egg in her pack. “Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Seventeen

Trinity’s skin glistened with sweat as she stepped into a sleepy little diner a few miles from where she’d left Caleb lying unconscious on the roadside. She’d chosen to skip the first town she’d come to—feeling it would be too obvious a hiding spot—and forced her feet to keep moving until she came across this tiny restaurant completely off the beaten path. There was no way he’d find her here. At least not anytime soon.

The bells hanging from the front door chimed merrily as she entered and the few locals sitting at the counter gave her curious looks before going back to their breakfasts. After catching sight of her reflection in the beer sign mirror hanging on the wall, she could see why. She was red-faced and wild haired from her run in the early morning air.

Breathing in the comforting smells of frying eggs and burnt coffee, she walked purposely through the diner, stopping at the ancient pay phone at the very back. Picking up the receiver, she shoved some change in the slot, then forced her trembling fingers to dial her grandpa’s number. When there was no answer, she tried her best friend Caitlin’s cell—the only other number she knew by heart.

After a few rings, her friend’s cheery voice greeted her into voicemail. “Hi, you’ve reached Caitlin! I’m either on the other line or purposely ignoring you. Or maybe Mrs. Mitchell confiscated my phone for texting in class again. That bitch. Leave a message and if I deem you worthy, or at least hot, I’ll call you back. Mwah!”

Trinity’s heart sank. Of course. Caitlin’s family had gone to Disney World for Christmas. They were probably hurtling down the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror that very second.

Leaving Trin stuck in this real-life version alone.

“Caitlin!” she cried into the phone, not willing to give up. “It’s me, Trin.” Feeling the eyes of the other patrons on her, she lowered her voice. “I’m…well, I’m at this diner. In some town in New Mexico.” God, she didn’t even know where she was. How could she expect her friend to help her? “I think I’m in trouble, Caitlin!” she confessed, her breath hitching. “And…well, I don’t have my cell anymore. But I’ll wait by the payphone, okay?” She read the number off the phone’s base in case it didn’t get picked up by her friend’s caller ID. “Call me as soon as you can!” she pleaded before reluctantly hanging up.

“You just here to make calls or you want breakfast too?” asked the blond, ponytailed waitress behind the counter. Her voice was gruff, but there was something kind in her brown eyes, which crinkled at the corners. Trin slunk over to one of the red-vinyl stools and took a seat. Reaching her grubby hand into her pocket, she pulled out a few random coins—all the money she had in the world after making her calls.

“Can I get a cup of coffee for this?” she asked. She wasn’t the biggest coffee lover in the world, but she was exhausted from her all-night ride.

The waitress—her nametag identified her as Mary—studied Trinity for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind. “Sure, honey,” she said, reaching under the counter to pull out a cracked ceramic mug with remnants of pink lipstick still clinging to the rim. “In fact, we’re running a Christmas special this morning. Buy one coffee, get eggs and toast free. And bacon too if you’d like it.”

“Hey, Mary, how come you ain’t told me about that special?” called the old trucker at the other end of the counter. The waitress shot him an amused look.

“Shut up and eat your oatmeal, Stu,” she scolded. “Your wife would skin me alive if I let you eat bacon and you know it.” She gave Trin a knowing look and Trin found she couldn’t help but smile back. The down-home normalness of it all was starting to help her relax. All the horror of the last twelve hours was beginning to feel like a bad dream. “Now, did you want those eggs scrambled or sunny side up?”

Trinity ordered scrambled, her empty stomach growling in anticipation, and Mary turned to the griddle to start preparing her breakfast. Sipping her coffee, she looked over at the pay phone, praying Caitlin would call her back soon. Not that she had any idea how her friend would be able to help her. Especially from inside the Magic Kingdom. How would she even be able to explain what was going on—when she didn’t even know for sure herself?

She closed her eyes, feeling defeated. What was she going to do?

“Are you sure you’re okay, hon?” Mary asked, coming over to refill her mug. “No offense, but you don’t look so good.”

Trin’s first instinct was to say she was fine. But something in Mary’s face made her change her mind. “There’s this guy,” she confessed, squirming in her seat and sneaking a peek out the window into the nearly empty parking lot. “He’s…well, I think he’s after me.” God, she sounded like a paranoid freak.

“A boyfriend of yours?”

Trin shook her head. “No. Just someone…I met.” She looked up at Mary. “I’m in trouble,” she confessed. “I’m far away from home. I don’t have any money and I’m afraid he’s going to find me.”

Mary frowned. “That’s it. I’m calling Sheriff Baker.” She walked over to the phone behind the counter. Trin wondered if she should try to stop her. After all, she was a wanted felon at this point. If the police figured out who she was, they were going to take her away. Though at the moment a jail cell seemed like a better alternative than running into Caleb again. At least she could keep the egg out of his hands. Connor had told her the government was the least of their problems, that the Dracken were the biggest threat.

Connor. Where was he now? Did he have her grandpa with him? If only she could figure out a way to get back to Old Oak Grove. She looked around at the other diners. Maybe one of the truckers was going her way and could give her a lift. Of course it was dangerous to just get in a truck with a stranger. But considering the alternative…

A flash of movement outside caught her attention. She turned, her eyes widening in horror as they fell upon none other than Caleb himself, striding purposely toward the diner, his right eye swollen into an ugly purple bruise from where the egg had hit him. She dove off her stool and straight to the bathroom, her throat closing, cutting off air. How had he found her so quickly? It was as if he’d known she’d be there somehow!

She scanned the small room, desperate for an escape route, but realized there was no window and she was, for all intents and purposes, trapped. Outside, she heard the door bell’s jangle; Caleb was now in the building. She slipped into the far stall and yanked the door shut behind her, sitting on the toilet with her feet up, trying to still her erratic pulse.

Maybe he was just here to order a cup of coffee to go.

Yeah, right.

A moment later, the bathroom door burst open. “Trinity!” he called. “Get out here now!” She heard a crash and realized he’d kicked open door number one. Followed quickly by door number two. How many stalls were there in this bathroom? Three? Four?

“I know you’re in here!”

BANG! Door number three. She stifled a squeak of fear, not knowing why she bothered. He’d find her in a—

BANG! The door burst inward and she found herself face-to-face with her enemy. He gave her a disappointed look. “You’re really going to have to learn at some point that I’m not the bad guy,” he muttered as he grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her off the toilet seat. She struggled in protest until he pulled out a small pistol that looked just like Connor’s laser one—and pressed it against her back. Her mind flashed to the man at the museum, his head exploding in a burst of green goo, and she reluctantly stopped fighting.

“That’s better,” he soothed. “Now let’s go.” He gestured toward the bathroom door. “Ladies first.”

Somehow, some way, she managed to force her feet to cooperate and shuffle forward toward the bathroom’s exit. When she stepped back into the diner, the pay phone started ringing. She glanced at it longingly. Caitlin…

Caleb stiffened, turning to Trin, a horrified look of realization on his face.

“You didn’t,” he whispered accusingly.

“What if I did?” she demanded, somehow finding her voice. “Does that spoil your little kidnapping plan?” She forced herself not to look over at the phone, even though every fiber in her being wanted to dive across the room to answer it. She realized all the other diners had cleared out, probably after seeing Caleb’s gun, and only Mary remained, a frightened but determined look on her face. The waitress started toward Caleb.

“Look here, you leave that girl alone!” she cried in a voice bordering on hysteria. Trin’s eyes misted as the waitress came to her defense. At the same time she wished the woman would just turn and run out the front door—out of danger.

“You don’t understand,” Caleb cried, sounding exasperated. “I’m trying to save her life!”

Blue lights flashed through the diner’s windows as two cop cars whipped into the parking lot. Caleb let out a frustrated breath. “You really are determined to make my job as difficult as possible, aren’t you?” he groaned, shaking his head. He turned to Mary. “Is there a back door?”

“Like I’d tell you!” she shot back as the police officers entered through the front. The bells jingled merrily, the sound jarring with the current situation.

“Mary, what seems to be the—”

Before they could finish their question, Caleb had the waitress by the ponytail, yanking her back. Mary screamed in protest as he dragged her in front of Trin, his laser gun pressed against her head. “Get back!” he screamed at the cops, who were now fumbling uselessly for their own weapons. “Drop your guns. On the floor. Or I’ll kill her. I swear to God!”

The small-town cops, looking confused and frightened, obliged, dropping their firearms and crawling down to the diner’s black and white tiled floor.

“Please don’t kill me,” Mary squeaked. “I have kids at home. Three little girls.”

“Let her go!” Trin added, horrified by the fact she’d managed to drag a poor innocent mother into this whole mess. “I’ll go with you. Whatever you want. Just let her go.”

He ignored her. “Just be a good girl,” Trin heard him whisper to Mary, “and lead us to the back door.” Raising his voice, he added, “Stay still and count to a hundred. Or I’ll kill her!”

As the cops began to count, the three of them backed through the kitchen and out the rear door. Trinity looked around, wondering if she should make a run for it. But Caleb still had the gun pinned on Mary, and she wasn’t about to let the kindly waitress get hurt or killed on her account.

“Let her go!” she tried again instead, turning to Caleb with pleading eyes. “I’m the one you want, not her.”

To her surprise, he nodded, releasing Mary. The waitress fell to the ground, crying out as her bare knees scraped against concrete.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb said, looking surprisingly remorseful as he held out a hand to help the waitress to her feet. Mary refused his assistance, shooting him a death look as she scrambled up on her own. Her legs were cut and bleeding, her hair had come loose from its ponytail. Caleb sighed and dropped his hand. “Fine. Have it your way,” he said with a shrug. Then he turned to Trinity, his face hard and cold.

“Now, if you’re done messing around,” he said, “we’re late for our date with the Dracken.”

Chapter Eighteen

“You need to turn left at that stop sign up ahead,” Caleb instructed from the passenger seat, after consulting his transcriber. “We’ll be taking that road for the next hour or two.”

Trinity put on her blinker, shifting in an attempt to get comfortable as the cracked vinyl seats pinched at her thighs. Caleb had stolen the old Ford pickup from the driveway of a darkened house near the diner and insisted she drive, making her wonder if cars were as extinct as airplanes in a post-dragon-apocalypse world. Though he had seemed pretty skilled on his motorcycle…

“And slow down!” he added, cradling the egg protectively in his arms as she stepped on the gas.

Damn. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t register her sudden burst of speed—a desperate attempt to get a traffic cop to notice them and pull them over. She half wondered if she should just plow into the SUV ahead of her—or slam into a guardrail even—giving herself a chance to make a run for it. That sort of thing always worked great in the movies. But in real life, she feared, it might just land her with a broken leg…or worse.

“It probably would,” Caleb agreed.

Startled, she snapped her head in his direction. “What?”

“Crashing the car like that. It’d probably kill you. Or at least hurt really bad. Definitely not a good idea.”

She turned back to the road, gritting her teeth. “How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked finally, against her better judgment. She didn’t want to engage him in another conversation, listen to his lies about “rescuing her” at gunpoint.

He looked surprised at the question. “I have the gift,” he replied as if it were the most obvious explanation ever.

“The gift?” she repeated. “What gift?”

“The gift,” he emphasized. “The one that gives us the spark.”

“Yeah. Not really clearing things up.”

Caleb sighed. “Didn’t my brother tell you anything?” he muttered, shaking his head. Then he turned to her. “There are certain people in this world who are born with something special inside of them, a certain energy. We call it the spark. Those who are born with this spark can do amazing things. Some can sense emotion. Some can hear other people’s thoughts. A few can go one step further and actually bend people’s wills. They call that pushing. My brother can push. Which is one reason you have to be careful around him. You never know what he might try to get you to believe.”

He paused, glancing over at her for her reaction, then continued, “Think about it. How else would I have been able to find you last night? Or at the diner this morning? I simply followed your fear and it led me straight to you.”

Her hackles rose at the idea. The implication that it was somehow her fault—her weakness—that allowed her to be caught.

“Okay, fine,” she snarled. “If you can read my mind, what am I thinking right now?”

Caleb chuckled. “That you want to kill me. Though, to be fair, I don’t need to read your mind for that. It’s written all over your face.”

She groaned, forcing her focus back on the road. She wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous. That the only gift he had mastered was that of being a total dick. Yet, reluctantly, she had to admit he had known exactly what she’d been thinking. And he had found her—in the middle of nowhere. Both last night and just now.

And then there was Connor, his own twin. She thought about how he’d grabbed her back at the barn. She’d heard his thoughts, echoing through her head, though he’d never moved his lips. And when he’d finished, she’d wanted to do exactly what he’d told her to. Had that been this pushing thing Caleb was talking about?

She attempted to empty herself of thoughts, concentrating only on the road ahead, while Caleb continued to stare at her with piercing eyes from the passenger seat. His face was identical to his twin’s, she realized, yet at the same time so different. How could she have not noticed it before? Whereas Connor’s eyes were clear blue, the color of the sky on a cloudless day, Caleb’s had flecks of gold and green, swirling about in a storm of color.

Connor. Where was he now? What was he doing? Did he have her grandpa with him? Was he trying to find her, wanting to make sure she was okay? Her heart panged as she remembered what must have been his shadow at her bedroom window, his desperate voice calling out her name just as Caleb stole her away. Did he know she’d been tricked? That his brother had assumed his identity? Or would he believe she’d left of her own free will, the evil dragon convincing her to join up with his worst enemy?

No, she decided. Connor would know. He’d know that she’d never take off on him willingly, leaving him and her grandpa behind. Not after what they’d been through—after what they’d shared. Her lips twitched involuntarily, still branded by his kiss. She barely knew the guy and yet there was something about him. Something…protective. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t rest until he was sure she was safe.

“I have to say, you think pretty highly of a guy who wants to murder you,” Caleb pointed out absently, turning to look out the passenger side window. His voice was calm, emotionless, but his eyes had darkened to angry thunderclouds.

“Excuse me?”

“Connor,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a dimwitted child. “Your big knight in shining dragon scale. He would have killed you if I’d left you there.”

“Oh, right,” she retorted tartly. Seriously, why did she keep feeling the need to encourage his lies? “He wanted to kill me. Well, then why didn’t he? He had plenty of chances and, at the moment, I still seem to be pretty much alive, don’t you think?”

“That’s only because your bond is not yet complete,” Caleb replied evenly. “No offense, princess, but you’re not worth killing until your death can bring down a dragon.”

What? Her lips parted in surprise.

“Oh dear,” he cried, catching her expression. His mouth twisted. “Could it be that my brother forgot to mention that pesky little detail when he was rescuing you?”

“What are you talking about?” Trinity demanded, getting annoyed. “Whatever it is, just come out and say it.”

“Sure.” He shrugged dismissively. “When you first touched Emmy back at the museum, a bond began to build between you.”

She gritted her teeth. “I know that. Get to the part where Connor’s trying to kill me.”

“Patience, princess.” Caleb’s fingers danced lazily over the egg, still swaddled in his lap. “The great mysteries of the universe take time to untangle.”

“I’ll be happy to untangle you if you don’t start explaining.”

Caleb snorted. “It’s simple, really. Once Emmy breaks free of her shell, the bond between you will be complete. Meaning you’ll share a common life force. We call it Fire Kissed where I come from and it’s a rare thing indeed.” He looked down at the egg. “You should consider yourself lucky—it’s a great honor to be chosen by a queen.”

Trinity found herself glancing over at the egg, a shiver tripping down her spine. Emmy’s words came whispering back at her.

We are destined…

“In any case, it’s really tough to kill a queen dragon once she’s hatched,” Caleb continued in an easy tone, “especially with your current primitive technology. It would be much easier, let’s say, for a Hunter to go after its partner instead—a weak little human with a fragile mortal coil. Not so difficult to kill.” He gave her a winning smile. “Does that answer your question?”

Trinity found she couldn’t reply, the implications of his words making her blood run cold. As much as she wanted to accuse him of lying, the story made a weird kind of sense. After all, why else would Connor have been so bound and determined to keep her around, even when she’d tried to push him away? Could she really have been his insurance policy all along—in case he failed in his mission to destroy the egg?

“Look, I don’t mean to sound harsh,” Caleb added, his tone softening. She could feel his pity but refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. “But why do you think my brother wanted you tagging along on his mission to save the world? So he could qualify for the two-for-one special at the local truck-stop cafe?”

She scowled, wishing he’d stop talking. She didn’t want to hear anymore—not now that the doubts had already seeded themselves in her mind. Could Connor really be capable of such deception? Luring her in, making her feel protected and safe—all the while ready to cut her down if things didn’t go to plan? The idea hurt more than she wanted to admit.

We have to do whatever it takes, he had said, even if it means sacrificing ourselves.

Had he been planning to sacrifice her as well?

Her troubled thoughts were interrupted as blue lights flashed in her rearview mirror. “Crap,” she swore under her breath, making a move to pull over. “A cop.” It was strange—just a few minutes ago, she’d been practically begging for a rescue. Now she wasn’t so sure.

“No!” Caleb cried, grabbing the steering wheel and yanking her back on the road. “We can’t stop!”

“But we have to,” she argued. “There’s no way we can outrun a cop in this hunk of junk.” She’d been flooring it just to reach fifty-five. She started to pull over again.

“Fine,” Caleb replied, reaching for his gun.

“Wait!” She jerked the truck back onto the road. “What are you going to do?”

“Whatever I have to to keep you and Emmy safe.”

“But you can’t just kill him!” she protested. “He’s innocent.”

“Trinity, no offense, but aren’t you on the run from the law? What do you think Mr. Innocent will do when he discovers we’re not exactly the poster children for innocence ourselves?”

Trinity’s face fell, knowing he was right. There was no way the cop was going to just let them go once he checked the license and registration. There was sure to be an APB on them from the diner incident, and maybe a stolen car report to boot. And she didn’t even want to think about the penalties that might be involved in basically assaulting two Homeland Security agents…

But she couldn’t just let Caleb kill him.

Think! she berated herself as she slowed down and guided the truck to the shoulder of the road. The policeman pulled in behind her, stopping about twenty feet back. There has to be another way.

Caleb fingered his gun.

“Put it in the glove box!” she hissed, pointing to the dashboard compartment, a plan forming in her mind. A trick she’d seen her mother do, back when she still had command of her senses. “And follow my lead, okay?”

Caleb hesitated. “I don’t know…”

The police car door opened.

“Just please, do it!” she begged.

“Fine.” Caleb stuffed the gun in the glove box. “We’ll do it your way. But if things start to go wrong, I’m going to shoot.” He dropped the egg between his legs and shielded it with his jacket.

Relieved, Trinity placed her hands on the steering wheel, in the proper ten and two position, just as she’d been instructed in driver’s ed, her heart beating a mile a minute and her palms damp with sweat. From her mirror, she watched the policeman get out of his car and amble toward them.

“He doesn’t have his gun drawn,” she said quietly. “That means he doesn’t know the truck is stolen.”

Yet.

Caleb reached into his pocket and slid a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes, hiding the ugly bruise she’d given him. A moment later, the officer knocked on her window and she rolled it down, looking up at him with her best blinding smile.

“What seems to be the trouble, Officer?” she asked brightly, trying to conceal the tremble in her voice.

“Ma’am, do you know you’re driving with a taillight out?” the officer asked. He was young—maybe a year out of the academy—tall, and well-built.

“Is it?” she cried, feigning surprise. Inside, she cursed Caleb for picking such a hunk of junk as their getaway vehicle. “I had no idea. This is my uncle’s truck. He never fixes anything.” She considered batting her eyelashes at the cop but decided it would be overkill.

Believe me! she begged. Please believe me!

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Caleb shoot her a startled look, though she had no idea why. A shimmer of nausea fluttered in her stomach. She prayed he’d keep his promise to stay quiet.

The policeman’s frown lifted. “I have an uncle just like that,” he told her, shaking his head. “His guest toilet’s been out of service for ten years if it was a day. He’s always going on about fixin’ it. But it never seems to happen.”

“That must be really fun at Christmas,” she joked, giving him a forced laugh. She realized her hands were shaking and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Speaking of, Merry Christmas!”

Walk away, walk away, she pleaded silently. Please walk away.

Her stomach lurched so forcefully she almost threw up right on the cop. With effort, she forced the smile back on her face. What was going on with her?

Keep it together, Trin. Just a little longer.

What are you doing? Caleb hissed in her head. It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t speaking out loud. Like Connor back at the barn. Another part of the gift?

Shut up, she tried to send back, feeling a little ridiculous at her first attempt at mental telepathy. To the cop, she added, “I can’t believe they make you work on a holiday!”

The cop glanced at his watch. “Actually I worked the nightshift,” he told her. “I’m off in a few minutes.”

“Going home to the family?”

Go home, go home, go home.

Pain stabbed at her forehead. Her vision swam. For a moment she thought she was going to pass out. What was wrong with her? This was so not going to help her case with the cop.

Thankfully, he seemed oblivious to her sudden distress. He reached into his pocket for his wallet. “My boy’s one year old,” he boasted, handing Trinity a picture of a chubby-faced cherub that looked a lot like his dad. “First Christmas!”

“Aww,” she managed to choke out. “He’s so cute.”

She handed the photo back, the sick feeling intensifying. If she screwed this up, that adorable baby boy would have to grow up without a father—just as she had.

She had to make this work. Somehow. Some way.

She lowered her eyes demurely. It was time to go in for the kill. “I don’t suppose we could just forget the taillight—in the name of Christmas and all? I’d promise to get it fixed the second we get home.”

The officer’s smile faded. “Now you know I’m supposed to at least run your plates, ma’am. It’s protocol. I could get in trouble.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to get in trouble!” Trin protested. Damn it. “I just want you to be able to get home to your baby!” This time, she did bat her eyelashes, desperate for something to work.

The officer stiffened. She’d gone too far. “Why don’t you just give me your license and registration? We’ll get it done fast.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes, realizing she’d failed. Epically failed. Slowly, she reached for the glove box, her heart filled with despair. In a moment it would all be over. The cop would see Caleb’s gun. He’d reach for his own…

Caleb’s fingers grabbed her hand. He turned to her slowly, his expression unreadable from behind the sunglasses. “Allow me,” he said in a low voice, reaching for the glove box.

Trinity forced herself to nod. A trickle of sweat dripped down her back.

Please walk away, please walk away… she silently begged the officer one more time as sharp pain stabbed at her skull like knives. For your son’s sake, just please walk the hell away!

The glove box started to creak open…

“You know what?” the officer interjected, his face breaking out into a big smile. “You’re right. Who wants to give out a ticket on Christmas?”

Caleb pulled his hand away.

“Thank you!” Trinity cried, relief coming in a flood. “Thank you so much!”

“Merry Christmas,” the officer said, giving her a small wave. “And get that taillight fixed.”

And with that, he turned back to his car. A moment later, he was pulling off the shoulder and passing them on the road, leaving their lives forever. Trinity waited for him to disappear over the horizon, then stumbled out of the pickup truck, falling to her knees and vomiting on the side of the road, clutching her head in agony.

Caleb followed her out of the truck, clapping his hands slowly. “Wow, you really are Fire Kissed, aren’t you?” he remarked, sounding impressed.

She looked over at him blearily, her stomach still roiling. “What are you talking about?” she asked, annoyed that he looked so pleased when she felt so terrible. “I just sweet talked him a little, something I learned from my mother.”

“Trust me, no amount of sweet talk was going to make him drive away,” Caleb insisted. “You pushed him—harder than I’ve ever seen anyone do. Which is probably why you feel like hell. Using the gift can kick the fleck out of you, especially without proper training.”

“The gift?” Trinity looked up, confused. “You’re saying I have the gift too?”

“Do you think a dragon would bond to a reg?” he replied, ripping off his sunglasses. His eyes shone. “Seriously Trin, I cannot wait to get you to the Dracken. They are going to be so excited to see you.”

The Dracken. Trinity shivered. In her relief at escaping the cop, she’d almost forgotten she was still trapped, still a prisoner—her life still in danger. Slowly, she rose to her feet, gripping the side of the truck, trying to regain her composure. The nausea was starting to fade, but she still felt overwhelmingly weak—not unlike how she felt after her trip to the Nether. As if she could sleep for a week.

“You know, I don’t know what these Dracken people want from me, but I can tell you right now, they can just forget it,” she managed to spit out, forcing herself to meet his eyes with her own. “It’s not like I’m going to suddenly join them or whatever, just because you dragged me to their secret headquarters.”

To her surprise, Caleb started to laugh. She shot him an annoyed look.

“What?” she demanded. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just that…join us?” Caleb repeated, his eyes dancing in amusement. “But you’re the one who started the Dracken in the first place!”

Chapter Nineteen

Trinity stared at Caleb, a clammy chill washing over her. “What?” she managed to scrape out in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean ‘started the Dracken’?”

“Um, pretty much just like it sounds. You made it all happen. Brought everyone together, back in the day. Well, I guess more like ten years from now if we’re being technical. You even came up with the silly name—the Order of the Dracken. Legend has it that it came from some video game you were into back then.”

“What?” Trinity froze. Realization hitting her over the head with the force of a ten-ton truck. Oh God.

The Dracken. That’s why the name sounded so familiar when Connor had said it back at the barn. Why had she not realized it before? The Order of the Dracken was a dragon-filled dungeon in the expansion pack of Fields of Fantasy. The very game that was probably still sitting under her grandpa’s Christmas tree waiting for her to return.

The dizziness welled up inside her again, this time not as a side effect of the gift.

“But hey, don’t take my word for it,” Caleb continued, reaching into his bag and pulling out what looked like a high-tech tablet. He pressed a button and the screen illuminated into full-color video. She stared down at it; at first she thought she was watching some sort of movie—a fantasy epic straight out of Lord of the Rings. That was until the camera zoomed in for a close-up of a young woman, sitting on the back of an all-too-familiar-looking green dragon.

Trinity gaped. The woman had shorter hair than she did and was at least ten years older, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

“It’s me,” she whispered, unable to help stating the obvious. She watched in a mixture of fascination and horror as the woman and the dragon soared through the skies, looking elegant and elated and free. She wanted to protest that the footage had been doctored somehow, but what if it wasn’t? What if Caleb was telling the truth? What if she really had started the organization? Connor had warned her about falling under the dragon’s spell. Emmy had told her they were destined…

“It’s a pretty great story, actually,” Caleb said, turning off the device after the video faded to black. “A beautiful young girl, giving up everything she had to save the world’s last dragons. Of course,” he added, “it doesn’t exactly end well.”

She flinched. No, it didn’t. She thought back to Connor’s vision—of fiery skies and fallen friends, dragons destroying it all. What could have possibly prompted her future self to want to save these evil creatures who saw nothing wrong with burning the entire world to the ground? She couldn’t imagine any spell that powerful.

“Don’t feel bad,” Caleb said, seeing her expression. “I mean, sure, things didn’t turn out exactly how you planned, but you tried. Your heart was always in the right place.”

“I don’t understand,” she protested. “Why would I form a dragon rights group? How would I even know about dragons to begin with? I mean, if the government took the egg immediately after it arrived at the museum the first time around, I would have never seen it again. I probably would have forgotten all about it.”

“You didn’t forget,” Caleb corrected. “And a bond like yours and Emmy’s is not easily broken. You heard her cries for years after they stole her, echoing through your head. At first you thought you were going crazy—like your mother had. It wasn’t until Emmy lured you into the desert and you found a job at the facility they’d taken her to that you finally realized the truth.”

“The truth?” Trinity repeated with encroaching dread. She turned to Caleb, trying desperately to swallow down her fear. “And what truth might that be?”

“That dragons have the power to save our world,” Caleb replied matter-of-factly. “If only you could first save them.”

Chapter Twenty

Caleb stared out the grease-smeared window of their small, dingy motel room, watching the wind outside swirl up debris. Trinity had suggested the place because it was the type that took cash and didn’t ask for ID. Thanks to his little showdown at the diner, along with Trinity’s performance with Homeland Security, the two of them were basically fugitives. The TV announcer had called them armed and dangerous.

Of course this was nothing new to Caleb. He’d spent most of his life considered armed and dangerous down in Strata-D. And while his brother, Connor, had racked up the accolades for his merciless dragon slaughter, Caleb picked up demerits. Hell, he’d probably been only an infraction or two away from a lifetime in the mines before meeting Darius, who recognized his gift and gave him a job.

Not an easy job, by any means. But an important one. A very important one.

His eyes left the window to check on Trinity, who’d thankfully fallen into an uneasy sleep. Poor girl. It’d been a rough journey for her so far. And pushing the cop had pushed her body to its limits.

If only his stupid brother hadn’t gotten involved. Trin and her grandpa would already be reunited and the egg would be safe and sound at Dracken Headquarters, ready for hatching. But no. As always, the great and powerful Connor had to plow in and destroy everything in his path as part of his fanatical crusade.

And Caleb had almost lost Trinity—not to mention Emmy—because of it.

They still had a long way to go—both in physical distance and gaining trust. Sure, she’d been willing to listen to some of what he had to say, but he could see the disbelief reflected in her eyes. He didn’t blame her, he supposed. It’d taken him a while to get on board with the Dracken as well. In fact, he hadn’t truly believed anything Darius had said until the day he’d slipped the vial of dragon’s blood into his mother’s IV. The day she lived instead of died and the doctors called it a miracle.

The day, for the first time, Caleb was the hero, not Connor, even if no one knew it but him.

She was beautiful, he thought. The history texts did not do her justice. Sure, she had the same tangles of black curls falling down her back in waves, the same delicate features. But no photo could capture her long lashes, sweeping across freckled cheeks, or the way her lower lip plumped as she frowned in her sleep. And they certainly couldn’t capture the fiery passion in her black eyes, illuminating the spark that was so strong within her.

Trinity moaned in her sleep, tossing and turning. He watched the stress lines wrinkling her brow and wondered if he should wake her from her nightmares. He hated to see her in such agony and prayed he hadn’t been the cause of it. He’d never meant for everything to go so wrong, and the idea that she thought he was the bad guy tore at his heart.

“No one cares more about you than me,” he whispered. He sighed, then turned back to the window.

“Shut up!” Trinity shot up in bed, boxing her hands over her ears and letting out a piercing scream. “Just shut up! Get out of my head!”

Caleb flew to her side. “Trinity! Wake up!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her as hard as he could, forcing her awake. Her eyes flew open, wild and unseeing. Her face was blotchy and stained with tears.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“The voices…” she mumbled, still half in a daze. “So loud…”

He flinched. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

“Did my brother show you something?” he demanded. “Some kind of vision?” When Trinity reluctantly nodded, Caleb frowned. “I thought so. He probably opened up some doors by mistake. They’re hard to shut if you haven’t had the proper training.” Stupid Connor. Always botching up people’s heads.

“No,” she protested. “I…I heard them earlier as well.”

She said the words hesitantly, as if she was embarrassed to admit them aloud. “At the museum and then again at my grandpa’s house.” She moaned loudly, squeezing her eyes shut in agony. “God, I’m one shotgun blast away from becoming my mother, aren’t I?”

“Oh, Trin.” He gave her a sorrowful look, remembering exactly how it felt, how horrible and confusing and maddening it had all been. It was all he could do not to reach out, pull her close, and wrap his arms around her in an attempt to draw out her pain. But he knew in his heart she’d only pull away, rejecting any comfort from his touch. To her, he was still the enemy. The one who had tricked her and stolen her away. He had a lot to prove to her before she would trust him. And there was no better time to start then now.

“Look, Trin,” he tried, raking his aching hands through his hair in an effort to give them something else to do. “I can help you. But you have to trust me. Just close your eyes, okay?”

Her frown deepened. Her eyes remained open—stubborn as she was beautiful. “I know it hurts. But just do it, okay? I swear it’ll help stop the voices.”

“Fine,” she said, snapping her eyes shut. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he muttered. She was good at making things difficult, that was for sure. But he wasn’t going to give up on her—as everyone had once given up on him. “Now listen. I need you to do a little visualization. Imagine each voice you hear attached to a person and each person standing at a doorway at the edge of your mind.” He closed his own eyes, trying to remember how he’d been taught by Darius. “They’re all trying to push past one another to enter.” He paused. “Can you see it?”

She was quiet for a moment. He peeked an eye open and saw her squeezing her own eyes shut, a tormented look on her face. “Yes,” she said at last.

“Good. Now slam those doors shut.”

Her eyes flew open. “This is stupid.”

“Do you want the voices gone or what?”

Reluctantly she shut her eyes again. “Okay, fine. I’m shutting the door…blocking out the big bad—”

She gasped. He opened his eyes. She was sitting on the bed, a shocked look on her face. “Oh my God,” she murmured.

“Told you.” He couldn’t help a small smile.

“How did you do that?”

“You did it. I just showed you how. Don’t worry. It gets easier with practice. Soon it’ll be as natural as breathing.”

She looked at him wonderingly, her eyes liquid pools of ebony. “How did you know? Are you cursed with voices too?”

“I told you: it’s a gift,” he corrected, though, in truth, that was not always the case.

She screwed up her face. “Some gift. My mother shot herself in the head over this so-called gift.”

His heart squeezed at her words. At the naked pain blasting across her face.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “It can be overwhelming for those who don’t have proper training. The voices can get so loud they block out everything else.” He thought back to one particular torment-filled night of his own, when he’d been sure he wouldn’t live to see the break of dawn. “In any case, I won’t let that happen to you. I can help you control them. To shut them out until you need to listen.”

She started to nod, then winced.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There’s still this one sound,” she admitted, looking up at him, her face ghostly white. “This horrible, high-pitched sobbing. No matter how hard I try to block it out, it keeps slipping through the cracks.”

Caleb’s shoulders relaxed and he gave her a small smile. “Oh right,” he said. “I almost forgot about her. She’s going to be a little tougher to tune out.”

Trinity cocked her head in question. “She?” Her eyes widened as Caleb gestured to the egg, resting between two pillows on the adjacent bed. “You’re trying to tell me the egg is crying?”

“Not the egg,” Caleb corrected. “Emmy. She can sense you’re upset and it’s scaring her.”

“She can sense my emotions?” Trinity asked, rising from the bed and walking curiously over to the egg. Caleb watched, breath caught in his throat, as she reached out hesitantly, then dared pull the egg into her arms. The bond was growing. He could see it in her face. Her touch. She was fighting it, but still….

“I feel like I should…I don’t know…comfort her or something?” Trin dragged her gaze from the egg to Caleb. “But that’s stupid, right?”

“Actually it’s about the smartest thing you’ve said all day.”

She gave him a withering look but turned back to the egg, stroking it softly with her hand. A moment later she looked up, her face mirroring her surprise. “She stopped crying!”

“She can feel your warmth. It’s comforting to her.”

Trinity stared back down at the egg, her face warring with mixed emotions. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured more to the egg than Caleb. “You’re an evil dragon. I should be trying to destroy you. And yet…” She looked up at Caleb. “How did it all happen?” she asked slowly. “How did it go from this egg to a raging apocalypse?” She paused, then added, “And how do I fit in with the whole thing?”

Caleb paused, wondering what he should say. Then he realized he didn’t have to say anything. He could show her instead. It was the only possible way now to win her to his side. To get her to truly believe he meant what he said.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small amethyst, hoping it would do the trick. He walked over and pressed it into Trin’s palm. “I’ll show you,” he told her. “I’ll show you exactly what you did…and why you did it. All you have to do is take my hand.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Trinity jerked up in bed, a sharp pain slamming through her with a force that almost knocked her back to her pillow. She looked around, rubbing her temples, trying to gain her bearings. She was no longer in the motel room with Caleb, but some kind of large dormitory, with rows of bunk beds lining the walls. A military base perhaps? But no, the others sleeping around her definitely didn’t look like any soldiers she’d ever seen. The woman in the next bunk had to be eighty years old.

No! Please! Please stop!

She startled, recognizing the voice.

Emmy?

Suddenly it all came rushing back to her. This was another vision, like the one Connor had sent her of the Scorch. She let out a breath. At least this time she hadn’t been dropped into the middle of an inferno.

Sliding her feet out of bed and onto the cement floor, she rose silently, careful not to wake anyone around her. She could feel herself being drawn toward the door at the end of the room and decided not to resist the urge. After all, Caleb had sent her here for a reason. He had something for her to see. And she needed to see it, whatever it might be.

“Show me what you will,” she murmured, surrendering herself to the vision.

Her feet led her through the door, down a dark hallway, around a bend, and out of the dormitory altogether. Stepping into the warm summer night, she realized she was in some kind of military compound after all, with clusters of dark gray buildings surrounded by a barbed-wire fence. All the structures looked exactly the same, but at the same time, she somehow knew exactly which one she was looking for.

When she reached her destination, she found herself pulling out a set of silver keys she didn’t know were in her pocket, slipping one into a metal lock, turning it, and pulling open the heavy door. Without pausing, she slipped into the building, wondering what she would find.

At first she thought she’d entered some kind of prison. But then she realized it was more like an animal testing site, with rows upon rows of multilevel cages, rising high to the ceiling and filled with apes and monkeys and gorillas and…

…a dragon.

She squinted down the rows. Sure enough, there was Emmy herself, standing in the very last cell. The dragon looked a lot different than she had in Trinity’s previous vision. There, she’d boasted brilliant, almost blinding emerald scales, sparkling in the sunlight like precious jewels. Here, those shining scales had paled to a dull brown, so faded they appeared almost translucent.

Still, there was no mistaking it. It was Emmy. The dragon from the egg.

She started toward the dragon but stopped short, realizing Emmy wasn’t alone. A scruffy, older man dressed in filthy coveralls was lugging a large hose in the dragon’s direction. Trin watched from a distance, unseen, as Emmy shrank back in her cage, her eyes bulging with fear. The man gave a cruel laugh.

“Sorry, dragon,” he chortled. “It’s bath time.” He turned on the hose, full force, shooting Emmy square in the chest. Emmy fell backward from the force of the water, her fear and panic engulfing Trinity as if it were her own. As the high-pressure blast slapped against an open sore on the dragon’s left flank, Emmy bellowed in pain. Desperate, she lifted her mighty head, her massive jaws creaking open, preparing to unleash her fury on her captor. Trinity watched, almost rooting for the dragon as she waited for the fire to come.

But to her surprise, no flames shot from the dragon’s mouth—only a sputter of spark and the most pitiful puff of smoke. Emmy closed her mouth, looking confused. The man laughed again.

“Good try,” he snorted. “But your fire-breathing days are long over.”

Emmy’s face fell and she resignedly put up with the rest of the bath. Finally, the man turned off the hose and grabbed a mop, attached to a long pole. He stuck the mop into the cage, in a rough attempt to rub the dragon down. In response, Emmy turned her head, grabbing the mop in her teeth and playfully tossing it to the back of her cage. The dragon looked so proud of herself that Trinity wanted to laugh. The poor beast might have been robbed of her fire and dignity, but she wasn’t entirely helpless.

Sadly, the man didn’t find the scenario so amusing. “That’s it!” he declared, stalking over to a nearby wall and grabbing the hugest electric cattle prod Trinity had ever seen off a hook before heading back to the dragon. “You will behave,” he declared, jabbing Emmy in the neck with the prod. “If it’s the last thing you do!”

Emmy let out a bloodcurdling scream and Trinity was sent reeling as echoes of the dragon’s pain rocked her to her core. But the man refused to stop, jabbing the poor beast over and over again, electricity crackling from the stick and through the dragon’s trembling frame until Emmy finally collapsed, her body convulsing and her mouth foaming.

“Emmy!” Trinity cried in horror, involuntarily giving herself away. The man whirled around, his eyes locking upon her. Uh-oh.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded, stalking over to her, still gripping his electric prod. Trinity took a hesitant step back, then forced herself to stand her ground.

“Leave her alone!” she found herself saying. “You’re hurting her!”

“So what?” the man shot back. “In two weeks she’s going to be monkey meat.” He glared back at the dragon, who was still writhing in her cage in agony. “And good riddance too. She’s been nothing but trouble since she hatched from that stupid egg.”

Please. Trinity. Help me.

Fury overcame Trinity—fury at the coldhearted man for abusing this poor, helpless beast; at this compound—whatever it was—for caging her in the first place. On impulse, she charged the man, shoving him with all her might. He stumbled and fell onto the concrete floor, screaming in anger. Trinity lunged again, this time grabbing his cattle prod.

“Get the hell out of here,” she growled. “Or I’ll stick this thing so far up your ass…”

The man’s face went white and he lost his confident swagger as he scrambled to his feet, not taking his eyes off the prod. “Give that back,” he tried in a trembling voice.

“Not likely.”

“You don’t know what that thing can do. There’s enough electricity in there to kill a man.”

“Then I suggest you get moving if you want to live till morning.”

The man rolled his eyes, disgusted. “You just wait until your supervisor hears about this. You’ll be fired for sure.” He turned and fled, the exit door clanking loudly behind him. The primates in the other cages whooped and cheered for their newfound hero. The sound was nearly overwhelming.

But Trinity only had eyes for Emmy. Setting down the prod, she approached the dragon’s cage slowly, peering inside. At first she worried the dragon might already be dead, but then she caught Emmy’s ribcage heaving up and down with effort. Trin let out a sigh of relief.

She scanned the creature; from this close proximity, she could see that the dragon was missing a whole section of scales, as if they’d been ripped from her body one by one. Her right wing was misshapen—broken and not set properly, maybe in an effort to keep her from flying. Under the wing, several ugly welts and burn marks marred the dragon’s flanks, some festering and crusted with oozing, yellow pus. And the spot under her neck where the man had poked her was still smoking.

Trinity’s heart wrenched and it was all she could do not to throw up then and there. This beautiful creature…so abused. But she forced herself to stay strong.

“Are you okay?” she asked Emmy, daring to reach through the cage’s bars to stroke the dragon’s long nose. She knew it was probably a good way to get one’s hand bitten off, but somehow she knew Emmy wouldn’t harm her.

Sure enough, the dragon nuzzled her giant head against Trinity’s hand, her whiskers tickling Trin’s sensitive skin. The dragon opened her large, liquid eyes, staring up at her savior with such gratitude it made her want to cry. She observed, sadly, how Emmy’s once brilliant blue eyes had faded to a dismal gray.

My thanks, Fire Kissed, Emmy whispered in her mind, her voice weary and broken.

“Who was that?” Trinity demanded, glancing back at the door, praying the man wouldn’t reemerge. She couldn’t stay long. He might return with backup. Still, she had to make sure Emmy was okay first.

Just a man assigned to care for me. He’s worse than some, but not as bad as others.

Trinity shuddered at the idea that there could be worse. “But why?” she asked. “I mean, how could anyone do this to you?”

She tried to remember the other vision—the city engulfed by flames—but instead all she could see was this one gentle giant before her and her great suffering at the hands of mankind. Was this why the dragons rose up and destroyed the world? Was it merely an act of survival?

I do not know, Emmy whispered in her mind. With great effort, the dragon managed to right herself, letting out a long, surrendering sigh. Then she met Trinity’s eyes with her own. But I need your help.

Trinity found herself nodding. Of course. At that moment, lost in the dragon’s beseeching eyes, she would have done anything she’d asked. “What can I do?”

My time grows short, but my children…they still have a chance to live.

“Children?” Trinity cocked her head in question. “You have children?”

A shadow of confusion passed over the dragon’s face. I have not laid any eggs, she admitted. And I’ve never seen their faces. But I can hear them call to me all the same. My children are here. Somewhere nearby and still unscarred. They still have a chance to fly free.

Trinity remembered what Connor had told her. The government had cloned Emmy. They’d taken her DNA and created a whole race of dragons. That’s why they didn’t care about Emmy’s condition. She was nothing more than a tissue sample, to be used and discarded. The keeper’s words came rushing back to her.

In two weeks, she’ll be monkey meat.

Trinity gritted her teeth, squaring her shoulders. She wouldn’t let that happen—couldn’t let that happen. Not to this poor beast who had suffered so greatly, who was willing to sacrifice her own life to save her children.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” she declared, giving Emmy her most confident look. “You and your children. You won’t die in here, Emmy. If it’s the last thing I do, I will set you free.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The scene faded and, once again, Trinity found herself in the motel room with Caleb, the egg still cradled in her lap as tears streamed down her cheeks. Caleb reached out and stroked her hand gently. She didn’t pull away.

“That night, you went online,” he told her, “you emailed everyone you could. The most passionate, the most militant, the most dedicated animal rights’ activists out there—you told them of Emmy’s plight and asked for their help. Of course they were more than willing to join up. After that, it was just a matter of breaking into the facility and freeing Emmy and her offspring.”

Trinity drew in a breath. Before now, she couldn’t have fathomed why anyone would want to unleash a pride of dragons on the world. But after seeing Emmy’s suffering…

“What did we plan to do with them?” she asked. “I mean, they’re not exactly stray pets, ready to find forever homes once they’re out and about.”

“The history texts are vague on that account,” Caleb admitted. “But I’m sure you had something in mind. Or maybe you didn’t—maybe you were only focused on setting Emmy free. All I know is, as I said earlier, your heart was in the right place.”

Trinity frowned at that. “Yeah, I’m sure that made people feel a hell of a lot better once the dragons started chowing down on their children,” she retorted bitterly. “I mean, sure, we miss little Lucy, not to mention the entire planet’s infrastructure, but hey, at least that chick’s heart was in the right place.”

Caleb gave her a wry look. “Seriously, don’t beat yourself up. At the time, you had no way of knowing the fifteen baby dragons you rescued alongside Emmy had been genetically altered.”

“Altered?” She cocked her head in question.

“Their technology wasn’t as good back then as it is in my time,” Caleb explained. “They had to combine Emmy’s DNA with some other lizards—nasty, violent things. And then, to keep them alive once they were born, they pumped them full of steroids.” He shrugged. “Some historians will tell you their goal was to turn them into weapons. And, well, weapons they became, breaking free of their Dracken rescuers and flying wild.” He gave her a rueful look. “You can probably guess the rest.”

“The Scorch,” she said in a dead voice. “The end of the world. All thanks to me. Wow. That’s going to look awesome on my college application.”

“Actually it won’t,” Caleb contradicted. “Because it’s not going to happen this time around. Don’t you get it? That’s why we’ve come back. We’re going to change things. We’re going to get that happily ever after—for both the human race and the dragons themselves.” He beamed widely.

She stared at him. “Are you stupid or just utterly insane?”

His smile faded. “What do you mean?”

“Um, gee, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you seem to think bringing dragons back into the world is a good thing? I mean, hello? Fire and brimstone? Worldwide apocalypse? Didn’t you guys learn anything the first time around?”

“Yes! We did. We learned tons,” Caleb replied eagerly. “Don’t you see? That’s why we decided to come back and do it all over again. This time we have control of the dragon, not the government. Those mutated dragons will never be born. Instead, we’ll just breed more Emmys. Sweet, gentle creatures, with gifts to help mankind.”

Trinity gave him a skeptical look. “Gifts? What, like helping Boy Scouts cheat on their campfire merit badges?”

“Try curing cancer,” Caleb shot back, “eradicating diabetes, wiping out AIDS. Dragon blood has almost magical healing properties,” he informed her. “Not to mention the creatures are pretty much unsurpassed at sniffing out natural resources buried deep in the ground. Oil, precious metals, water, new food sources—the types of materials we need for continued survival on this planet—dragons can help us excavate them all.”

He sounded like he was quoting from a press release. “Okay, fine. Say that’s true. What do the dragons get out of the deal?” she asked. “I mean, seeing as they’re basically being volunteered to dedicate their lives to save the human race and all?”

“Everything,” Caleb declared staunchly. “They’ll be treated like royalty—given food to eat, space to fly. They’ll be protected, honored, worshipped around the world.” He paused, then added, “And most importantly, they won’t be dead. Which, you know, is kind of the biggest thing, if you think about it.”

He met her gaze, as if daring her to argue with his logic. When she didn’t immediately reply, he continued, “We’ve done our calculations, Trin. We need dragons as much as they need us. Without them, very soon we’re going to be the ones on the endangered species list.” He squeezed his hands into fists. “I, for one, am not willing to let that happen.”

Trin didn’t know what to say. “You really believe this?” she found herself asking. “You really, truly believe that this dragon egg here has the power to save us all?”

Caleb gave a fierce nod. “Everything depends on her survival.”