Destiny Kills

Chapter Fourteen

The air was cold against my skin, seemingly colder perhaps than the water. It crept across my body, stealing the warmth from my skin, settling into my bones.

I reached the top of the well and pressed a hand against the thick metal cover. It was heavy, thick with rust that flaked away as my fingertips pressed against it, but nevertheless it was basically solid to the touch. I took a deep breath, then pushed with all my might.

The cover slid up and back, and clanged to the ground with an almost bell-like sound. It seemed to reverberate across the silence, a sharp call to arms to anyone who was listening.

I scrambled over the lip of the well and dropped to the cold stone of the ground as the last of the bell-like reverberations faded away and silence returned. I remained there, my muscles taut and limbs trembling—whether with fear or the readiness to run, I couldn’t honestly say—listening for anything that might indicate someone had heard the crash of the cover and was coming to investigate.

Nothing. No footsteps, no alarm.

I rose and squeezed my hair to help dry it, then found the stairs and padded upward. My feet slapped lightly against the stones, making little noise.

The door at the top of the stairs was heavy, made of metal like the well cover but nowhere near as rusted. I gripped the knob and turned it carefully. The door creaked open, revealing a long corridor lit by a solitary bulb about halfway down.

These were the corridors I’d briefly glimpsed in the mist this morning, and they were a part of the old sections of the house. The newer additions to the basement—the cells—were ahead and to the left. If I went right, I’d reach the old stone staircase that wound up through the largest of the turrets to the roof. If the morning mist was right, the exits on the other floors were still well hidden. If I could get the kids to the stairs, they’d have a clear run to freedom.

But that was a whole lot of ifs.

I slipped through the doorway and headed down the corridor, keeping to the shadows and hoping they hadn’t installed motion detectors in the time I’d been away. I ran through the patch of yellowed brightness, then walked on, passing several semi-open doors. The rooms beyond were silent and dark, and I felt no immediate inclination to investigate. Not until I knew what lay ahead, anyway.

I padded on, my bare feet making little noise on the stone. Each breath sent little puffs of white drifting into the darkness, but I couldn’t actually feel the cold. The night and my own nature had seen to that.

I reached the tunnel junction and stopped. In the distance to the left there were voices and music, and it took me a couple of seconds to realize it was a TV, not the guards, I was hearing.

I risked a quick peek around. The guard station had been installed at the junction between these old corridors and the newer ones that led down to the cells. The guard sat in the middle of the room, his feet propped up on the desk and munching on a sandwich as he watched the TV.

To get to my mother and the kids, I’d need to get past that man.

How long had it been since I’d left Trae standing by the loch’s edge? Surely it had taken me at least twenty minutes to traverse the twists and turns of the passage? And yet there was no sound, no alarm. Nothing to indicate he’d begun his diversion.

But even if there were only a few minutes left of his twenty-minute limit, I couldn’t risk waiting. The longer I stood here, doing nothing, the more chance there was of getting caught. The guards didn’t just sit in the box watching TV; they patrolled regularly.

I worried at my lip for several seconds, trying to think of the best way to distract that guard without getting myself caught, then turned around and walked back to the first of the storerooms. Inside were lots of boxes and equipment, but on the shelf lining the back wall, I found a box of tools. I grabbed a heavy wrench and several small screwdrivers, then left.

A quick peek around the corner told me the man hadn’t moved. I took a deep, calming breath, then tossed one of the screwdrivers toward the guard’s box as hard as I could.

It hit the wall several yards shy of the box, and fell to the ground with a clatter. The guard didn’t turn around, didn’t move.

I cursed silently and tried again. This time the screw-driver clattered to the ground much closer, and the guard jerked around. I ducked back behind the wall, my breath caught in my throat as I listened for his reaction.

For several seconds there was no sound other than the TV, then the chair creaked and footsteps echoed on the stone. There was a pause, and while I imagined the guard bent over to inspect the screwdrivers, I didn’t dare look.

The footsteps started again, coming toward me. I gripped the wrench harder, my knuckles practically glowing as I waited.

Light flashed across the wall opposite as the foot-steps got closer, and closer. Despite the chilly air, sweat trickled down my spine. I waited, my fingers aching with the force of my grip on the wrench, as the smell of pine and man began to sting the air. Then the light sharpened abruptly and the guard appeared.

I swung the wrench, smashing it across his face. Blood spurted, spraying across my cheeks and the wall behind me. He barely made a sound, crumpling to the ground almost instantly. The flashlight rolled from his fingers, sending crazy patterns of light across the walls until it came to a halt. I stood over him, sucking in air, the wrench raised and ready in case he moved. He didn’t.

I blew out a relieved breath, then scrubbed an arm across my face and stepped past him, turning off the flashlight before heading back to the storage rooms. A search through several more boxes uncovered what I needed—rope.

With the guard on his side so that he didn’t drown in his own blood, I tied his feet and hands—ensuring his palms were facing outward rather than inward, so I could place them on the scanners—then patted him down. The keys were in his trouser pocket.

I stepped over him again and moved on into the other passage. The TV still blared in the guard box, and several banks of monitors sat in front of the guard’s chair, showing various shots of corridors and cells.

Jace, Tate, and Cooper were all sitting in front of laptops, playing shoot-’em-ups. Carli was sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, watching The Simpsons and giggling softly. I couldn’t see Sanat or Marco, but the bathroom door was closed in both their cells, so maybe they were in there. I couldn’t see my mom, either, but there were only a couple of cells with water in them down this end of the house, so she had to be in one of those. I doubted they’d move her to the end Egan and I had escaped from—the fire had damaged a fair section of that area and it was no longer secure.

I took note of all the cell numbers then glanced at the time. As much as I wanted to flick off all the monitors and race down to free everyone, I couldn’t. Not until Trae’s distraction started. They might not miss one guard, but someone was sure to notice a whole heap of blank screens.

So I waited, tapping my fingers on the desk, watching the clock and the slow progress of the minute hand. Tension tightened my muscles and sawed at my nerves, and sweat formed at the base of my neck before trickling down my spine. Each minute that passed was another minute wasted.

Finally, all hell broke loose.

An explosion shuddered through the night, followed closely by a shrill alarm, the noise so strident, so loud, it would surely wake the dead. Not that there were any of those around here. Or so I hoped, anyway.

My heart began beating like a jackhammer, feeling like it was going to pound right out of my chest. I flexed my fingers, trying to relax, listening to the noises underneath the racket of the alarm.

I looked up at the screens again. Jace and Cooper had abandoned their games and were on their feet, looking toward the ceiling. Jace had a smile on his face.

He knew we’d come for him.

The younger kids hadn’t really moved, though Marco had come out of the bathroom and was now standing in the middle of the room, as if wondering what to do next.

From above came the sound of running feet, shouts, then several more explosions ran across the night—a mass of noise that blew away any remaining sense of peacefulness. Tension tightened my muscles, and it was all I could do not to run down the corridor to the cells and free everyone. But to give in to that sort of need would be stupid. Any sort of speed or careless movement would be stupid. Trae might have given me his diversion, but these were trained guards we were talking about. It was highly unlikely they’d all leave their posts to go investigate whatever havoc Trae was causing. There’d be guards still around somewhere, and even the slightest hint of something out of place might bring them running.

I’d learned that the hard way.

So I waited until another massive explosion made the old building shudder, then flipped all the monitor switches. The screens went black—hopefully, the guards above would think the explosions had taken them out.

Hopefully they wouldn’t come down to investigate.

I propped open the metal door leading out to the main corridors, then retraced my steps back to the guard. He was still out, and though blood pooled thickly around his head, the bleeding had actually stopped. And he was still breathing, albeit a little shallowly, so I hadn’t actually killed him, which was good. I had no idea if a hand scanner needed the prints of a living, breathing person to work.

I blew out a breath, then grabbed him and hauled him up and over my shoulder, letting him flop down my back like a sack of grain. He wasn’t a big man, but he was damn heavy, and my back muscles protested. But I ignored them and staggered back to the guard box, then went through the metal door and walked down the brightly lit corridor, hoping I wasn’t leaving a blood trail. Hoping no one chose that moment to come around the corner. If they did, I was a goner.

I passed Tate’s and Marco’s cells, and went straight for Jace. I’d need his calm head and watchful eyes to help me with the little ones. When I reached the metal doorway, I grabbed the guard’s limp hand and flattened it against the scanner. A blue light swept across his fingers, then the light above the door flicked from red to green. I shoved the key into the lock and opened the door.

Jace was there, waiting for me, his smile as wide as the Pacific. “I knew you’d come. I told the others that, every single day.”

I gave him a hug with my free arm. “I’m just sorry it took so long.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

I smiled. “No, it doesn’t.”

I shut the door once he was out and relocked it. We moved on and collected the rest of the boys. I then sent Jace and Cooper down the far end to watch for any roaming guards, and walked around the corner to collect Carli.

There was no one in the halls, but smoke poured down the stairs at the far end. Whatever Trae was doing, he was doing it well.

After using the guard’s handprint to unlock the door, Marco and Tate propped him against the wall for me, holding him tight so he didn’t slide down to the floor. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with a trembling hand, then unlocked Carli’s door and pushed it open. Before I could blink, she was flying at me, her little arms wrapping around my neck and holding on tight.

“You came!” she all but shouted. “Jace said you would.”

“Shhhh, Carli,” I said, wincing a little as her high-pitched squeal reverberated through my eardrums and along the silent halls. “We have to be quiet until we can get out of here.”

Her eyes went wide, and she whispered, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I gave her a hug, then knelt. “Hold Sanat’s hand and let him look after you while I take care of the guard.”

She nodded, and offered her hand to Sanat. He wrapped his fingers around hers, looking pleased to have some responsibility.

I locked the door, then grabbed the guard again and staggered down to one of the empty cells. I dumped the guard on the far side of the bed, where hopefully he wouldn’t be seen. And just in case he woke, I tore some strips off the sheets and gagged him.

Then I closed the cell. I still needed him to get my mom out, but my first priority had to be the kids. If worse came to worst, Mom and I could call the loch and escape with the water. The kids didn’t have that choice.

I scooped up Carli, then we ran back down the hall to where Jace and Cooper were watching.

“Nothing,” Jace said, green eyes solemn as he looked at me. “And the noise has stopped upstairs.”

I nodded, and hoped like hell the silence didn’t mean something bad had happened to Trae. “This way. Quickly.”

I led them back through the guard’s box and down the old corridor. At the junction, I stopped long enough to pick up the heavy wrench, then we continued on.

The tunnel seemed to be climbing, and the air was less fresh—more full of mold and age. The younger boys huddled a little closer to me, but weren’t quite touching. Trying to be brave.

A gated doorway appeared. There was a padlock on the door, but it didn’t look new. More like one the scientists might have found.

I stopped and handed Carli to Sanat. “Jace and Cooper, keep your ears open. Tell me if you hear anything that sounds like they might be looking for us.”

They nodded. I raised the wrench and smashed it against the padlock. Sparks flew and sound rang through the darkness. The lock dented, but didn’t break. I tried it again. This time, splits appeared in the metal. The third time, it smashed open.

I blew out a relieved breath and opened the gate. Stairs ran upward, highlighted by moonlight that washed in at regular intervals from the arrow slits.

I looked back at the kids. “Okay, we’re going up a secret stairway to the roof. Although the scientists don’t know about the other gates, we still need to be as quiet as possible.” I looked at them all. “Okay?”

They nodded. Marco asked, eyes widening as he studied the darkness of the stairwell, “Why are we going to the roof?”

“We’re going to meet a friend there. He’s going to lead you to a safe place.” I stood back and waved them all through. Jace went through first, and the others were so used to following his lead that they didn’t even hesitate.

“Egan’s not here?” Cooper asked.

I hesitated. “No, Egan . . . couldn’t make it. But he sent his brother Trae. That’s him upstairs, making all the noise.”

With the kids all through, I closed the gate and put the lock back, so that at least it would appear locked from a distance. I picked up Carli and we began to climb. Up and up, through the dust and the cobwebs, our footsteps echoing quietly across the moonlit shadows and our breathing a rasping accompaniment.

Another explosion ripped through the night, and relief slithered through me. At least Trae wasn’t caught yet. We walked on, our pace slowed by the younger boys. None of the kids would have gotten much exercise in their cells, and their unfit state was telling on these stairs. I hoped to God they’d have the energy to fly once we got to the roof.

We passed the first floor, moved up to the second. The dust in the air was lessened here, the cobwebs not so thick, but the scent of smoke and oil and burning rubber was intense. We passed a wall that was fiercely hot, and as I ushered the kids to the other side, I wondered just how close the fire really was.

My legs were beginning to shake by the time we reached the door at the top. I put Carli down, making her hold Jace’s hand, then hefted the wrench and brought it down on the old lock. It shattered straightaway. I gripped the door handle and swung the door open.

The night was ablaze. Flames shot skyward, burning across the darkness and blotting out the stars. In the distance, the flashing lights of emergency vehicles could be seen, but they didn’t seem to be moving. Maybe they were having trouble getting through the gates. I wouldn’t have put it past the scientists to have kept them locked.

Screams and smoke filled the air, and the smell of burning rubber was more pungent out here. Flames licked one side of the building, washing brightness across the roofline. We’d have to keep low, otherwise we might be spotted. Surely twenty minutes had passed since he’d started the explosions, which meant he should be here soon.

“Okay,” I said, turning around to face the kids. “We’ve got to go out onto the roof to wait for Trae. There’s some flames on one side, and a bit of smoke, but nothing too dangerous. Everyone keep low, so they won’t spot us down below.”

They all nodded. I took Carli’s hand, and led the way out, keeping low as we moved to the center of the roof. Two seconds later, there was a scuffing sound from the left, a grunt of air, and Trae appeared, falling more than sliding over the roof battlements.

“That’s the good thing about old stone buildings,” he said, his grin all cheek as he rose and dusted off his hands. “Plenty of handgrips.”

“So glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I said dryly. “But we’re a little pressed for time, so if you wouldn’t mind hurrying?”

“Did she always nag like this in the cells?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over the kids before coming to rest on Jace. He offered the kid his hand. “You’d be Jace, then?”

Jace nodded, his face solemn. “You’re Egan’s brother?”

“I am. And he had a lot of good things to say about you boys.” He looked at Carli, and knelt down. “And you’re even prettier than he said.”

Carli giggled and pressed lightly against my leg. I smiled, and knelt down beside her. “Trae’s going to make you a seat in his claws, and fly you across the lake. You think you can handle that?”

She looked at Trae, then Jace and the boys, and doubt crossed her features. “You’ll be safe,” Trae said, “and Jace and the boys will be right there with us.”

“We will, Carli,” they piped up in unison, before Jace added, “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She studied him for a moment, expression solemn, then nodded. “Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay.” Trae rose and glanced at me. “They’re going to spot me the minute I change, so perhaps the boys better shift shape first.”

I looked at them. “You ready?”

They nodded. Sanat and Tate closed their eyes, their expressions ones of fierce concentration, while Jace, Marco, and Cooper simply reached for the magic in their souls. The haze of changing swept over their bodies, shifting, remolding, and lengthening their forms, until what stood on the roof was a hue of dragons as colorful as the rainbow. Silver, brown, green, blue, and red. They spread their wings, fanning lightly.

“Good lads,” Trae said, then glanced at me. “You be careful going back in for your mom.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’d better be.” He took several steps back, and the haze swept across his body, until he was no longer a man, but rather a glorious gold and silver dragon, his scales gleaming like polished copper in the sharp firelight.

“Wow,” Carli said, echoing what I was thinking. I doubted I’d ever get tired of seeing his dragon form.

Trae lowered himself down and cupped his front claws so that they formed a chair-like structure. “Ready?” I said to the little girl.

She looked up at Trae, then nodded solemnly. I led her forward, and helped her get seated. Trae gently closed his claws around her, so that she was locked in tight.

I kissed her cheek, then said, “You okay?”

Again she nodded. There was fear in her brown eyes, and perhaps the glitter of tears, but she gave me a tremulous smile nevertheless.

“I’ll see you soon, okay? Enjoy the ride, Carli. It’s lovely, flying right up there with the stars.”

She looked up at that, and her smile blossomed. I touched a hand to Trae’s chest, and he looked down at me and winked. I stepped back, well out of the way.

“Get going, everyone.”

Wings swept into action, pumping hard. The boys lifted off somewhat shakily, but soon they were soaring high. Trae glanced at me, blue eyes bright in the darkness, then sprung skyward after them.

Carli’s delighted laughter seemed to linger in the air long after they’d disappeared.

There were shouts from below, indicating they’d been spotted. I waited for several precious seconds, scanning the sky and hoping there were no hunters about to spring into the air and give chase. No one did, and relief slithered through me. But it was short-lived. I needed to go rescue my mother, before the scientists got the fires under control and I got trapped.

I turned and ran for the stairs.

The journey downward took a quarter of the time, though I was sweating and breathing heavily by the time I took off the old lock and swung the gate open. The corridors were shadowed and silent, and I prayed to the Gods of sea and lake that they kept that way. I ran down the hallway, my feet slapping against the cold stone, the sound echoing lightly across the silence.

I grabbed the still unconscious guard from the cell, and once again carried him down to the next lot of cells, the muscles in my back and legs on fire. In the second cell along, I sensed my mother.

I flopped the guard against the wall near the scanner, holding him upright with one hand as I wiped the sweat from my eyes and sucked in great gulps of air. I was shaking so hard anyone would think I’d run a marathon—and I suppose in many ways I had. A marathon of fear. Fear for Trae, fear for the kids, fear that I’d be back too late to free my mom.

After several more deep breaths, I grabbed the guard’s hand and flattened it against the scanner. Again the scanner read his prints, and the light above the door changed color.

I dragged the guard inside the cell, then turned and looked around. The large room was shadowed and quiet. Water trickled softly to my right, the smell of it warm and familiar. Loch water.

So why hadn’t my mother called the loch? She could have, given time and patience.

To the immediate right lay a basic bed. A bedside lamp pooled yellow light across a sparse rug, and highlighted the dust on the cold stone floors. Beyond the bed lay the open bathroom facilities. My mother was in neither the bed nor the bathroom, but she was here somewhere.

“Mom?” I said softly. “It’s me.”

“No.” There was a long pause, as if she were searching for the right thing to say, then, “I told you not to.”

Her words were slurred, her voice filled with a deep sense of weariness and hopelessness. And pain, great, great pain.

It hurt to think that she’d come to such a point where nothing seemed worth fighting for. But it also hurt that she would think I could simply walk away, leaving her here for these monsters to continually prod, and poke, and sample.

I studied the shadows, trying to pin down her location. “I won’t let you die here, Mom. Come on, I’ve found a way out for us.”

“There is no point. My time is too near.”

Fear clutched at my heart. She had given up on her life. Well and truly given up.

No, part of me wanted to shout. This isn’t like you. We need to fight them. We can’t let them win. Damn it, she’d always been a fighter. Even Dad had acknowledged that. I guess that was part of the reason I’d gone to find her when I was old enough. She hadn’t come, as Dad had promised she one day would, so I’d gone to find and free her. And in the foolishness of youth, had presumed I’d succeed where she had long failed.

What had the scientists done to her that it had come to this?

I finally spotted her silhouette. She was standing near the air-conditioning vent, not facing it but rather with her back to it, so that the slight breeze stirred her hair and flung the dark strands across her face.

For some reason, fear stirred all the more strongly.

“Mom, I won’t leave unless you do.”

“Destiny—”

“No,” I said, more violently than I intended. “There’s no debating this. You’re leaving this goddamn place. They’ve taken you from our lives, taken your life. I won’t let them take you in death as well.”

She was silent for a moment, then sighed. “If you wish.”

“I damn well do wish.”

She hesitated, then stepped forward, and the lampshade’s pale light washed across her face. Or what remained of her face.

My mother had been blinded.

And not just blinded, but disfigured. It almost looked like acid had been splashed across part of her face and her eyes. The left side of her face had an almost melted look, reminding me of the way plastic held too close to a fire softened, then ran. And her eyes—oh God.

I gulped back bile and resisted the urge to look away. One socket had no eye at all. It was just a space filled with scarred and ravaged skin. The other, barely visible under her drooping eyelid, was white. Pure white.

“Not a pretty sight, is it?” she said softly.

There was no bitterness in her voice, no anger, and I think that was even more shocking than what had been done to her.

“Why?” It was all I could say, all I could think to say.

She smiled, though only half her mouth lifted. “They got sick of me trying to escape, so they decided to do something about it. I’ve had a long time to get used to the feel of it, Destiny.”

It certainly explained why they’d never let me see her. I was fiercely glad they hadn’t decided to blind me, as well, and suddenly wondered if Egan had been my savior in more ways than one. After all, I’d done more than my fair share of attempting to escape in the early years of my capture, and blinding me most certainly would have stopped that.

But maybe they figured that having a mutilated female wouldn’t have done their aim to have a breeding pair too much good.

“That’s just—”Words fled. Somehow, monstrous and evil just didn’t seem to cover what they’d done adequately enough. I took a deep breath in an effort to cut the sick churning in my stomach, then said, “Was it deliberate?”

“They intended to take my sight, so yes, but my strength took them by surprise and it went slightly wrong.” Bitterness crept into her voice. “Even after all this time, they are still surprised by the things we do. Despite all their technology, they have not learned that much about us. It is, perhaps, the only blessing in this whole mess.”

Anger swirled through me. “Damn it, Mom, why didn’t you call the loch? Why didn’t you punish the bastards for doing this?”

“Because I can’t.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I can’t call the loch. At first I think it was drugs, but the longer it went on, the more the restriction became a part of my very nature. I can’t control water anymore, Des. It’s been too long, and that part of my soul has shriveled up and died.”

Fear slithered through me. “But controlling water is as much a part of you as flying and fire are to an air dragon. How can your own nature restrict something like that?”

“Because there is a limit to how long a sea dragon can be away from the sea, Destiny. Loch and lake may sustain us for years, but we need to be in the sea if we are to retain the sea in our souls.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddery breath. I’d speculated that this might be the case, but I’d certainly been hoping that it wasn’t true. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re a half blood. Because no one—not even me—really knows how the rules apply to a sea dragon who has the fire of the day running through their blood.” She hesitated. “What was the point in warning you, when the rules might not apply to you? Only . . . it seemed they did.”

A chill ran through me at her words. “How close had I come to losing my powers?”

“Very.” She rubbed her arms lightly, as if similarly chilled. “It took five years for my control to fade, Des, and that was longer than I’d thought possible. I could feel the slip of power in you after eleven years. You were walking the edge of losing your soul when you broke out of here.”

And still she hadn’t warned me. Maybe she simply didn’t want to worry me any further. “So it wasn’t just for Dad’s sake that you wanted me out?”

She smiled gently. “It was for both of you. I didn’t want either of you to suffer.”

“And you think Dad or I don’t want the same for you? Do you think we don’t care whether you die here or die free?”

“Des, the love of my life is dead, and my soul is shattered. The place of my death no longer matters, only death itself.”

The place did matter, because without the dawn ceremony, her soul would be as lost as my dad’s would have been. It was just more evidence to the fact that she wasn’t thinking entirely straight—and whether it was drugs, or losing the sea, or something else entirely didn’t matter. She might sound reasonable, but she wasn’t.

“And,” she continued softly, “I have no choice in the death matter anyway. The drug they used to keep me calm over the years has done far more than just dampen the abilities I no longer have. Too much has built up in my system and it has poisoned me. It eats away at my insides, and there is no stopping it now. My time is close, Destiny.”

Her words made my heart ache—not just for her pain, but because I was losing her just when I’d finally found her. The family I’d hoped to regain once she was free was nothing more than ashes blowing on the wind. Just like my dad.

I blinked back tears and swept my gaze down the length of her, for the first time noticing how thin she was. Her hands were little more than skin stretched over bones, her ribs and hips protruding. Even if she could have escaped, it was doubtful she’d survive the cold, dark waters of the loch in that condition. There was no padding, no insulation against the cold. And while a dragon’s skin might be designed to protect us against the icy depths, tough hide alone was not enough.

“There may be no stopping it, but that doesn’t mean you have to die here.” I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her. I might have been hugging a skeleton, but it felt so good to hold her after all these years of not even being allowed to see her. And to have her taken away so soon after finding her . . . Tears stung my eyes again but I blinked them back again. Now was not the time for grief. That could come later, when it was all over.

“It’s so good to see you,” I whispered, when I could.

She hugged me back, her frail arms displaying a surprising amount of strength. “And it’s good to finally be able to hold you, my stubborn, beautiful child.”

I squeezed my eyes shut against the run of more tears, and kissed her ruined cheek. I so wanted to do more, to hug her and kiss her and tell her how much I missed her, how much I loved her, but we just didn’t have the time. Besides, she knew. It was in her touch. In her gentle, mutilated smile.

I pulled away, and tucked my arm in hers. Her skin was like paper. Brittle, icy paper. And not all of the cold in her skin was the night and the nature of a sea dragon. Some of it was the ice of death. I bit back the rise of bile and anger, and forced a calmness in my voice as I said, “Let’s get out of here. Dad awaits, and you know how impatient he can be.”

She laughed softly. “Yes. And I’m afraid it’s a trait our daughter shares.”

“That, unfortunately, is true.”

I guided her past the pool, around the still unconscious guard and through the door, which I closed behind us. The green light I could do nothing about, not without grabbing the guard and using his fingerprints again—and that was time I didn’t want to waste. I had a feeling we didn’t have a whole lot of it left anyway.

Another explosion ripped through the air as we began to walk, and the very walls around us seemed to shake. Dust puffed down from the ceiling. Trae had obviously set timers on some of his explosions. I wondered how he’d managed it. And whether we’d actually have an ancestral home to worry about by the time all his diversions had finally gone off.

“What’s that?” Mom whispered.

“A little something to sidetrack the scientists.” I tightened my grip on her and tried to hurry her steps a little. Though the hallway itself was quiet, my skin itched with the need to be gone, to get out of this place. My luck might have held so far, but my luck had never been that good for long.

A point proven when the sound of rapidly approaching steps whispered across the air.

“Oh, no,” my mother said, her voice cracked and unsteady. “Not now. We can’t be caught now.”

“We won’t.”

The footsteps were coming from the corridor in front of the guard’s box—the one that ran at an angle to this one—and were still some distance away. I stopped, hoping they’d take another corridor, hoping they’d go into one of the other rooms.

They didn’t.

I cursed softly, then guided my mother into the nearest open cell—one that was bigger than some of the others I’d seen. The wide pool was deep, and the dark water smelled fresher than the water in my mother’s cell. The ceiling soared above us, the rafters dark with age and decorated with dust and webs. We might be in the basement, but this room rose the full height of the house. Those were roof rafters above us, not the supports of the next floor.

“I know this room,” my mother said, her nose in the air and nostrils flaring. “They do tests here. Air tests. Underwater tests.”

I didn’t need to ask what those tests were, because I’d been put through a few of them in my time in this place. But never here.

I guided her over to the water’s edge, then gently pressed her down. “Hide in the water. If they come in here and discover us, duck under. You may not be able to use the water’s power anymore, but you’re still a dragon.”

“But you can’t—”

“Mom, just trust me.”

“I do trust you. I just don’t want these monsters catching you again.”

I smiled. “I thought we were the only monsters in this world.”

“Monsters come in all shapes and sizes,” she said grimly. “And many of them are human-born.”

Wasn’t that the truth. “Please, Mom, get into the water. I’ll hide over near the door. With any sort of luck, they won’t even come this way.” Even as I said the words, I didn’t believe them. But as long as she did, nothing else mattered.

She hesitated, then slipped into the cold, dark water. As her sigh of pleasure ran across the silence, I walked behind the door. The footsteps drew closer, not stopping at the guard’s box but moving on quickly. I flexed my fingers, trying to ease the tension creeping through my muscles and wishing I still had the wrench. But I’d put it down when I’d dragged the guard inside Mom’s cell, and I hadn’t thought to bring it with me.

The footsteps came closer, then stopped just outside the door. My breath caught somewhere in my throat and refused to budge, and my pulse seemed to beat in my ears, so loud I swear that person outside the door would surely have to hear it.

For several seconds, the stranger didn’t move. He just stood there, breathing steadily. I couldn’t see him through the crack between the door and the jamb, and he didn’t seem to have any particular scent.

Sweat trickled down my spine. I licked my lips, praying he’d move on. But he didn’t, and it was pretty easy to guess why.

He knew we were in here. Knew because he held one of the receivers. It didn’t matter whether it was my signal or Mom’s, because in the end, we were both here and both caught.

“I know you’re in the water, Aila. Come out where I can see you.”

My breath caught at the sound of his voice, and my stomach began twisting itself into knots.

Because it wasn’t just a guard who stood outside our door. It was the man in charge himself.

Marsten.

The one man I’d been hoping to avoid.

The one man I would probably have to kill if I was ever to have any hope of living a peaceful life.

I flexed my fingers, and forced myself to remain still. He obviously wasn’t standing close to the door, otherwise I’d see him. And until he was close enough for me to see and assess whether he was armed, I had to remain where I was.

“Aila, we know it’s your daughter and her latest flame out there causing problems. If we catch her, we’ll kill her. Unless you come out. Unless you stop her.”

I glanced at the dark pool, saw no ripple in the water, nothing to indicate my mother was there or listening. But his words made me frown. Was Marsten picking up my signal, Mom’s, or both?

And if it were both, why would he say it was me out there causing problems?

Was he trying to bluff us? Or biding his time and waiting for reinforcements? After all, how much more could there be out there for Trae’s little diversions to blow up?

Urgency pulsed and suddenly my feet were itching with the need to move, to get out of here, while we still had the chance. But until Marsten moved, until I knew whether he was armed or not, that really wasn’t an option.

Neither was standing here waiting.

I looked around the room. There were various cases around walls, but even if they held something that could be used as a weapon, they were all locked, and therefore useless to me. And the scientists still weren’t foolish enough to leave anything that might provide weaponry laying about.

“Aila, you have to the count of three, then I’ll start firing. And who knows just what—or who—I’ll hit?”

My heart jumped into my throat and seemed to lodge there. Yup. He knew Mom wasn’t in here alone.

“One.”

There was no movement from the water. I stepped back. I wasn’t sure where I was going or what I intended to do. I just knew I didn’t want to be near that door when Marsten started firing.

“Two.”

The whisper of a safety being clicked off ran across the silence. Sweat trickled down my spine, and I retreated another step.

“Three.”

Water stirred. Soft ripples of movement ran from the far end of the pool, growing ever stronger as they raced toward us, reaching the end and splashing upward.

“If you want me, Marsten, come and get me. I’m through dancing to your particular tune.”

Though her words were defiant, I could hear the weariness in her voice. The pain. She was closer to joining Dad in the forever lands than I’d imagined.

I blinked back tears, and waited for Marsten’s response. It wasn’t long in coming. Lights flooded the room, their brightness making me blink.

“Come out of the water, Aila.”

“You come into the room, and maybe I’ll consider it.” The words rumbled out of the water, causing little ripples to scurry across its surface.

There was one footstep, then another, and the scent of smoke and sweaty male began to sting the air. Obviously, Marsten had been outside when Trae had begun his diversion.

More steps, then suddenly Marsten was in the room, his silver hair glistening in the brightness as he edged sideways, the weapon clenched in his hands and pointed directly at the water.

More ripples ran across the pool, then suddenly my mother appeared, her head breaking the water just enough to let her ruined eye and nose emerge.

Though I wasn’t near the pool, I began to move my fingers, caressing the energy building in the air, calling to the dark water and feeling the eagerness of it slide across my skin—a kiss filled with such fury that the hairs along my arms stood on end.

“Your time here with us has ended, Marsten. Give it up, and walk away, while you still can.”

Amusement flitted briefly across his craggy features. “Aila, we’ve seen the worst you can do, and it doesn’t scare us. Get out of the water, or I will shoot. Remember, you’re just as useful to me dead as alive, so don’t for a moment think that I won’t.”

I didn’t. And I knew my mother wouldn’t have cared either way. But I would not let her die in this place—not through a bullet, and not through her own will.

I stepped forward, into his sight.

The gun in Marsten’s hand didn’t waver. “I was wondering when you’d move, Destiny.”

I continued to move my fingers as I edged forward, trying to get closer to the water. Trying to raise a barrier between my mother and that gun.

“You gain nothing by shooting either of us, Marsten,” I said, as the energy I was collecting began to pull at my hair and my hands, and tiny sparks seemed to dance across the dark, rippling waters. “You have no real idea about what my mother and I can do. And you won’t ever know just what we’re capable of if we’re dead.”

“What I know,” he said, “is that you’ve killed a number of good scientists, and have proved difficult animals to keep.”

“We’re not animals,” I said, glad my voice showed none of the rage and fear that was boiling through me. “We’re still more valuable alive than dead.”

“Actually, you’ve proved the exact opposite time and time again. And you’ve destroyed the viability of this facility.”

“And just how have we managed that?” I continued to move forward, creeping toward the pool’s edge inch by tortuous inch, all the while wishing I could simply run to my mom. Yet that was a chance I couldn’t take. Any sudden movement might cause him to fire that gun. “We may have blown up a lab and burned out a bit of equipment here and there, but that’s about all we’ve managed to do.”

“What you’ve managed to do is destroy the secrecy of this operation. Half of Drumnadrochit probably saw air dragons flying over Loch Ness, and the scientific world will guess we have discovered something and want a piece of it. We needed more time to uncover the secrets hidden in your genes, and that is what you have robbed us of.”

And you’ve robbed us of life, of humanity, and each other, I wanted to snap back, but what was the point? We might hold human shape, but Marsten was never going to see anything more than an interesting puzzle to unravel.

“You haven’t even begun to touch on our secrets, Marsten, and trust me, you need us alive to even begin to understand us.”

“I think I’m the only one who’s qualified to be the judge of that,” he said, and pulled the trigger.

“No!” I screamed, and unleashed the waiting energy. The dark water flew up, swirling around my mother, swiftly becoming a thick whirlpool through which nothing would get through. Not even a bullet.

The bullet hit the wall of water and ricocheted away. Marsten swore, then swung the gun and pulled the trigger again. This time straight at me.

I had no time to call the water and protect myself. The most I could do was throw myself sideways. But I wasn’t superman. I wasn’t even an air dragon. I didn’t have wings and certainly couldn’t fly. I wouldn’t beat that bullet, and I knew that, but that didn’t stop me from trying.

The air seemed to scream. Or maybe it was me screaming. I don’t know. The safety of the dark water was close, so close, but the bullet was faster than my fall. Metal tore through my thigh, blood, skin, and muscle flying into the air as the bullet punched its way through my leg. I hit the water and went tumbling, crashing into the far edge of the pool, landing half in, and half out of the water.

The air whooshed from my lungs and all I could feel was pain—thick, gut-churning pain—and all I wanted to do was slide into the beckoning darkness of unconsciousness. But it wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, and I fought to remain awake and aware as a slick red puddle began to form around my leg and drip slowly into the pool.

Water splashed, and then my mother was beside me. “Oh God, oh God,” she said, her frail hands on my face, my neck. Feeling for the wound she could smell but not see.

Behind us both, footsteps approached. My heart accelerated, pumping fear through every inch of me. Pumping my life out onto the cold concrete.

But with the footsteps came another sound. The air was screaming again. But not from a bullet. Not this time.

Trae was coming.

Relief flooded through me. I didn’t care how he knew I needed help. All that mattered was that he was coming, that he was near. All I had to do was keep us both alive until then.

“Mom, get back into the protection of the whirlpool,” I whispered urgently.

“What? Don’t be—”

“Mom, shut up and just get into the damn water.”

My voice was little more than a hiss of air. I touched her face lightly, trying to convince her of my urgency, but my gaze went past her and focused again on Marsten. There was no compassion in his dark eyes, no doubt. We were nothing more than a couple of test subjects he had no intention of losing. A shiver went through me. There was no talking sense to someone like that. No way to make him see us as anything more than monsters who had no rights, no voice in this human-filled world.

“Mom,” I added, “trust me, please. I didn’t come all this way to get us both killed.”

She sobbed, but spun and dove into the water. I played my fingers through the water, calling to the energy of the loch, calling to the deep, dark waters that waited beyond this small pool.

“Well, well, well,” Marsten said, as he stopped at my feet. “That water spout of yours was a very neat trick. It would appear that the littlest sea dragon has been holding out on us.”

“I told you we were more useful alive than dead.” My gaze went past Marsten to the roof high above. Hurry. Please hurry, I thought, even though I had no idea whether he could actually hear me.

“If you were less troublesome, I’d probably agree with you. But with all the samples we’ve collected over the years, we’ve decided to grow our own little sea dragons.”

“Our control of water is learned rather than ingrained. Growing your own won’t give you your answers.”

“That’s a risk we’re prepared to take,” he said, and pointed the gun at my face.

“No,” my mother screamed, even as the roof was torn apart and a silver and gold dragon dropped like a stone toward us. His scaled hide gleamed like polished jewels in the bright light, his talons thick and deadly looking as claws widened then snapped shut, reminding me of the jaws of a crocodile grabbing for food. Never in my life have I seen a more beautiful sight.

Marsten spun and raised the gun. But he was too late. Trae’s swoop had brought him close enough to lash out with one wickedly clawed foot. As he snatched the scientist up, the gun went off, skimming his jeweled hide, leaving a slash of blood. Blood that was joined by a thick spurt as one of Trae’s claws slashed deep into Marsten’s middle, gutting him.

Trae trumpeted—a harsh, ugly sound—then his wings pumped, blasting me with air and dust as he rose skyward through the roof.

“The loch,” I screamed after him, hoping he could hear me. Hoping he’d listen. “She waits.”

He disappeared. I slumped back, feeling an odd weariness slithering through me, making my limbs seem heavy and yet my head light.

I licked my lips and tried to concentrate. It wasn’t finished yet. There were still others to be taken care of if we dragons were to have any freedom. I shifted position, and allowed my wounded leg to fall into the water. Loch water wasn’t seawater, and it didn’t have the same sort of healing power, but the freezing water would slow the bleeding, and the ancient energy caught within the loch would begin to heal the wound. Just not as fast as the sea.

“Mom,” I said, flicking my fingers through the water, letting the whirlpool of power go. “We need to call the loch and finish this.”

“I can’t,” she sobbed, splashing to a halt by my side and groping quickly for my hand. “God, I should kill you for taking such a stupid risk.”

“I’m okay, Mom, really.” I hesitated, then said, “I need to erase their fingerprints on this place. I need to call the loch.”

“Do what you wish. This place has no soul left for me now. It is your inheritance. Yours to do with what you wish.”

What I wished was for every bit of the scientists to be erased from this place. I wanted no memory of them left in the rooms or the cold stone walls. No trace of them remaining anywhere on the grounds.

Mom’s fingers wrapped around mine in the pool, and a tremor seemed to slice the dark waters. A tremor that was all excitement, all need. The loch wanted this as much as I did. With my mom’s grip somehow giving me strength, I took a deep, shuddery breath, then called.

Energy touched the air, raced across the water, across my senses. It was a rich, warm sensation, one of welcoming and of healing, and it flooded through my body, through muscles and bone and spirit, energizing and renewing. Giving me the strength I needed to fight on. To survive.

My mother sucked in a deep breath, and suddenly seemed more alive. Color warmed her pale features and her frail body suddenly seemed to have strength. She might not be able to call the magic anymore, but she was still a sea dragon, and she could still feel it.

“Come to me,” I said softly. “By the Gods of sea and air and lake, I command thee to come to me.”

The concrete underneath us shuddered, as if the very ground was trying to answer my call.

“Come to me,” I repeated, “and cleanse this place of the evil that has taken it. Let no room or person go unnoticed.”

As I spoke, thunder rumbled. It was a long, dark sound that went on and on, as if the very skies vibrated with fury.

“Take it all,” I whispered. “Cleanse it all. I want nothing of them left in this place. Nothing at all.”

There was a thick, long roar, a thunderous sound that seemed to surround us, a sound that was a combination of air and water and the very earth itself. The walls around us shook, as if in fear of its fury.

Mom smiled and squeezed my hand. “She comes. She answered.”

I had no time to reply, because the fierce dark waters rushed into our cell and swept us away to the safety of the loch.