Scorched

Chapter Thirty-One

“Have you seen this girl?”

Connor watched wearily as Trinity’s grandfather approached two teenage girls walking out of the convenience store, flashing the five-by-seven school photo in their faces. “Her name is Trinity. She might have been traveling with a brown-haired boy who looked something like him.” He pointed over at Connor. The girls studied him with interest, giggled, then shook their heads before walking away. Connor sighed. This was beyond useless.

Trinity’s grandfather dropped the photo to his side and rejoined Connor by the car. “I think we’ve hit a dead end,” he admitted mournfully. “I can feel traces of her spark, as if she were here at one point, but no one remembers seeing her.”

Connor clamped a comforting hand on the old man’s arm. He looked beyond exhausted and for good reason. Maybe it had been a mistake to teach him how to glean energy signals from the atmosphere. It was a useful Hunter trick when tracking down dragons and it could work on others with the gift as well. But while Connor had discovered Trinity’s grandpa to be a natural-born Hunter, he was also very old and very weak. Energy gleaning took a lot out of even the hardiest of Hunters and was a technique to be used sparingly. But once Grandpa had learned what he could do, he refused to stop doing it. Every second she was gone, she was in danger, he’d reminded Connor. They’d come this far; they couldn’t give up now.

“It’s as if she’s vanished off the face of the earth,” Grandpa muttered, raking a hand through his thinning gray hair. His whole body was trembling, Connor noticed, and he looked as if he could barely stand.

“Look, why don’t we find a hotel and get some rest,” he suggested kindly. “Once you’ve regained some spark we can try again.” He was pretty drained himself and could use a small break before pressing on.

“No.” Grandpa frowned. “There’s no time for rest.”

Connor gave him a stern look. He was beginning to realize where Trin had gotten her stubbornness from. “You’re dead on your feet. You’ll be no good to her if you collapse and I have to bring you to the hospital.”

Trinity’s grandfather groaned in response but thankfully didn’t try to argue. “Okay, fine,” he said. “But just for a short time. Then we’ll try again.”

“Right. Now wait here and I’ll grab us some supplies.” Connor gestured to the convenience store. “You want anything special?”

Trinity’s grandfather shook his head and Connor headed inside the store to make his purchases. In addition to water, he grabbed a few oranges and energy bars. It was important for a Hunter to properly fuel his body in order to achieve maximum spark. And at this point, they could both use as much spark as they could get.

Once he had paid for his purchases, he headed back outside. “Are you ready to…?” He started to say, but then realized Trin’s grandfather was no longer leaning against his car. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen at all. Connor’s gaze darted from one end of the street to the other, anxiety prickling at his skin. He tried to tell himself that the old man had probably gone to find a bathroom or something—his bladder was beyond useless at his age. But as the minutes ticked away, that idea started to seem more and more unlikely.

Charlie? He reached out, grimacing at the effort. His spark was so low at this point it wasn’t even funny. Where’d you go? Are you okay?

I’m fine! Grandpa’s excited voice shot through Connor’s head a moment later. I met some guys—they know where she is! They’re going to take me to her!

Connor tensed, warning bells clanging in his head. No! he cried. Wait for me. Don’t go anywhere until I get there.

It’s fine, Connor. They’re real nice fellas. They’re going to—

His send stopped abruptly, as if the connection were severed by a knife. Fear throttled Connor as he tried to find the old man with his mind. But it was as if a brick wall had slammed down between them.

Flecking hell. What had he been thinking—leaving him alone like that? Trinity had told him her grandpa was gullible, but he didn’t think even he would be so stupid as to go off with a bunch of strangers alone. Evidently he underestimated the man’s determination to find his granddaughter at any cost.

Suddenly Connor heard a cry—an old man’s cry of pain—echo through his head. He sprang into action, racing down the street in the direction of the sound. Stomach churning, he pushed past curious bystanders, not bothering to apologize, as his pulse drummed out his fear.

This couldn’t be happening. Not after he’d promised Trinity he’d keep her grandpa safe. If he couldn’t come through with that, how could he expect her to trust him with anything else? And it wasn’t just that, either, he admitted to himself. He’d grown fond of the crotchety old geezer in the last few days. He couldn’t let anything happen to him.

He swung into an alley and stopped short, dropping down behind a trash compactor at the sound of men’s voices. Peering around, he froze as he saw Trinity’s grandpa surrounded by a group of thugs who were glaring at him menacingly. The old man’s face was awash with confusion and fear as he looked back at the men.

“I don’t understand,” he babbled. “I thought you were going to take me to my granddaughter.”

“Oh, we’ll take you to Trinity all right,” one of the men said with a nasty sneer. A scar slashed across his cheek and, from the way the others looked to him, Connor figured him the leader. “You’ll make a good dinner for her dragon.”

Connor stifled a groan. He’d been praying this was just some kind of robbery—a group of street rats taking advantage of an old man. But no, these men knew about Trinity and they knew about her dragon. Which could mean only one thing.

They were sent by the Dracken.

Oh, Trinity, he thought. Be careful who you trust.

Grandpa’s face paled. He made a move to escape, but the men grabbed him, yanking him back. One slammed a foot into the back of his knees, sending him flying forward. The other clubbed him across the face, hot blood splattering as his nose burst open. A third drew his gun, shoving the barrel up against the back of his head, execution style. Connor cringed.

“No!” The leader wrestled the gun away from his buddy, giving him a scolding look. “Darius says we have to make it look like a heart attack.” He peered down into Grandpa’s terrified eyes with a mocking grin. “You’ll be a good old fart and come along quietly, now won’t you?”

“Why are you doing this?” Trinity’s grandpa cried, tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks, mixing with the blood.

The Dracken mercenary didn’t answer. But Connor didn’t need him too. In fact, it all made perfect sense. Grandpa was Trinity’s only family—the only tie she had left to the outside world. Cut that tie and she’d have nothing left except them and the dragon and their empty promises to save the world. She’d be completely under their control.

It was the perfect plan except for one thing. He wasn’t about to let them get away with it.

His mind raced for a plan. This is what he’d trained for, why they’d sent him here in the first place. But he hadn’t bargained on being so weak—practically out of spark. Group pushes were tricky at best, even at full energy levels, and he was running on empty. But he had to try. He couldn’t take on five armed men by himself. Closing his eyes, he pulled deep within, drawing up all his reserves, not holding anything back.

You’ve got the wrong guy.

He opened his eyes, scanning the group, praying they’d heard him and would obey. But they were busy dragging Grandpa to his feet and shuttling him to a nearby van with blacked-out windows. His push hadn’t affected them at all.

Connor tried again.

The cops are on their way. You need to leave. Now!

Icy pain stabbed his skull and he nearly passed out from the effort. But when he opened his eyes, he realized it was all for nothing. The men kept at their tasks, as if nothing had happened.

He gripped his head in his hands, trying to think past the pain. This was not going well. A few more minutes and they’d be gone—Trinity’s grandpa never heard from again. He watched, helpless, as the old man struggled uselessly against his captors. From this close proximity, he could feel Grandpa’s terror and confusion as if it were his own. He certainly was a strong sender. Maybe one of the strongest Connor had ever met, save for Trinity herself.

That’s it! The idea struck him like a lightning bolt. If he could get Grandpa to help him, maybe their combined spark could complete the push. He didn’t know if the old man could focus past his injuries, but he had no other options and they were running out of time.

To me! he sent out. I need as much spark as you can spare!

He watched, praying for some reaction, some clue to tell him Grandpa had heard him and would obey. For a split second, he thought he saw something in the man’s eyes, but he couldn’t be sure. Still, he had no time to send again. He had to hope for the best.

Pushing past the pain in his skull, he closed his eyes one more time. Drawing his energy into a tiny, bright white ball and thrusting it as hard as he could.

You’ve got the wrong guy. Walk away now. The cops are almost here.

He fell back, seeing stars, unable, for a moment, to even move. His legs and arms were Jell-O and his stomach swam with nausea. Still he watched, waiting. Praying. They’d almost reached the van. If this hadn’t worked, it was all over. It was too late to try again.

For a moment, he saw no sign. Then one of them looked up.

“I don’t think we have the right guy,” he said.

“What?” the leader lashed at him. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s the right guy.”

“No,” his buddy agreed, looking at Grandpa, his face awash with confusion. “I don’t think it is.”

“Do you hear sirens?” added the third man. “I think the cops are on their way.”

The leader’s face twisted in rage. “You morons. What’s wrong with you? There’re no sirens. And no cops either. Now get him the hell in the van and let’s get out of here.”

But the men had already released Grandpa, the old man collapsing unceremoniously down onto the pavement. They looked at one another, fear clear in their faces, then rushed to the van, jumping in and closing the doors behind them. A moment later the engine roared to life.

“What are you doing?” screamed the leader. “Get back out here! Get him in the van!”

But his cries were for nothing. And the vehicle soon sped away. Connor let out a silent cheer. Now it was one on one. Even in his weakened condition, he liked those odds. Too bad his gun was back in the car—that would have made it almost easy.

“Aw hell,” the leader was growling, watching the van disappear around a corner. Then he turned back to Grandpa. “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pistol. “Guess I have no choice now.”

This was it! Connor dove in, throwing himself on top of the man. The gun went off with a loud bang and for a split second Connor thought the guy had missed, that the bullet had rang out into thin air. But then he felt a warmness soak his arm, followed by a stabbing pain. No such luck.

But he had no time to consider the extent of his wound. Instead, using his good arm, he managed to wrestle the gun from the mercenary’s grip, tossing it away. Then he clamped his fingers around the man’s neck, squeezing as hard as he could. The man struggled, kicking and gasping, but Connor had him well pinned.

“This is for Trinity!” he growled, digging his thumbs into the man’s sunken flesh. “This is for my dad!” He dug in harder, finding himself oddly enjoying the terrified bulge in the man’s eyes.

“Connor, stop! You’re going to kill him!”

He felt a hand grab his injured arm and he screamed in agony as the pain exploded all over again. But the jolt was enough to break the spell. He loosened his grip, looking up to see Trinity’s grandfather looming above him, a scared but determined look on his wrinkled face.

“Come on,” he hissed. “We have to get out of here.”

“Wait,” Connor said, his soldier training conquering his raging emotions. “I need to get information from him first.” Ignoring his throbbing head, he plunged into the unconscious man’s mind, gasping at what he found inside.

It was ugly—black and decrepit and rank. Smelling of death and decay. The Dracken had evidently chosen their mercenaries well. There was no pity in this man, no sense of humanity. If he had ever lived and loved and hoped and dreamed, all of that had died out a long time ago.

The ugliness made Connor’s stomach turn, but still he pressed on, crawling through the darkness until he finally reached the small nugget of information he needed. He yanked hard, grabbing it and securing it into his own consciousness. Only then did he allow himself to pull back. Once he was out, his stomach wrenched and he vomited, the ugliness spewing out in black pools onto the pavement.

He looked up, staring blankly at Grandpa, all his energy expended. The old man grabbed his good arm. “Come on,” he pleaded. “I can hear sirens. You’ll be no good to her if they lock you up.”

Connor forced himself to his feet. He glanced at his arm, horrified at the blood soaking through his shirt. Cradling it against his chest, he ran after Grandpa, back toward their car and away from the scene of the crime.

When they reached the outskirts of town, Connor finally allowed himself a much-needed breath. His arm throbbed, his head felt thick and dizzy. He was losing too much blood, he realized vaguely.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” Trinity’s grandfather said, glancing over at him with concerned eyes. He didn’t look in much better shape than Connor felt. His nose had swollen to twice its size and blood had crusted on his unshaven chin. They made quite a pair, he thought grimly.

“I’ll be all right,” he assured the older man, reaching into his bag and pulling out his precious burn salve. In addition to soothing burns, it did a good job of closing wounds and preventing infection. He winced as he forced himself to smear the salve over the spot where the bullet had hit him. Thankfully, it appeared to have gone right through. He wouldn’t have to dig it from his skin.

“I’m sorry, Connor,” Grandpa said, watching him with dismay clear on his face. “I should have never taken off on you like that. I was just so hopeful that they really knew where she was.”

“They knew,” Connor replied grimly, relaxing against the back of the seat. The burn salve was doing its job and the pain was thankfully subsiding a bit. “Believe me, they knew. And now, thanks to you, so do we.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Are you there, girl?”

Caleb had to duck as he entered the low-ceilinged cave, narrowly missing a hanging stalactite. Blinking, he peered into the darkness, searching for something Fred shaped.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

He took another few cautious steps, careful not to step in a hole. Even here in the Nether, where dragons no longer had to worry about predators, the beasts gravitated toward hard-to-reach places—preferring dark, dank crannies to flower-strewn fields where they could more easily stretch out and worship the sun. Lingering instinct from the old days, perhaps, when they would hoard huge troves of treasure, deep in their lairs, safe from even the cleverest of thieves. Some dragons—the really old ones—still kept the tradition, manifesting shiny gems and glittering gold anytime they had the spark. Fred, on the other hand, preferred treasures of a more edible sort.

A bellowing roar echoed through the cave and a moment later Caleb found himself almost knocked over by a rampaging beast. His rampaging beast. He laughed as a solid snout rammed into his chest, tickling him as it sniffed at his various pockets.

“Hey, hey! Put that thing away!” he protested, playfully shoving the dragon’s nose. “You could hurt someone with that, you know.”

Fred snorted and twin puffs of smoke twined from her nostrils as she gave Caleb an offended look. He rolled his eyes. Dragons. “Don’t you even think about getting huffy with me,” he scolded, wagging his finger at her, “or you won’t get what I brought you.”

Fred’s eyes widened and she stumbled backward so fast it made Caleb laugh out loud. “Thought so,” he said with a nod. As Fred watched him, he closed his eyes, envisioning a large chunk of horsemeat—one of his dragon’s favorite foods. (Not that Fred was all that picky.) At first nothing appeared and he could hear his dragon’s impatient panting beside him.

“Hang on, girl,” he promised, sucking in a breath and pushing again. “Just one more…”

The horsemeat fell from the cave’s ceiling—smaller than he’d aimed for and a bit rotten from the smell, but Fred didn’t seem to mind. She attacked the flesh with gusto, smacking her lips in appreciation between bites. Once it had been completely consumed, she gave Caleb a baleful look, batting her eyes and lolling her giant tongue.

“Are you kidding me?” he scolded, forcing his laughter at bay. “That last manifest nearly killed me. Have some mercy on your poor Guardian. Besides, you keep eating like that and you’re going to get fat.”

It wasn’t strictly true—in the Nether, Fred could look svelte or swollen, depending on her mood—but Caleb had been harassing her about her caloric intake since they’d first met in the real world and old habits died hard.

“Are you ready to fly?” he asked. Flying was the one thing Fred liked better than eating. Or at least she pursued both with equal gusto.

Sure enough, the teal dragon bobbed her head excitedly. Then she glanced behind Caleb, her golden eyes searching.

He looked over his shoulder. “What?”

Did you bring my namesake?

Caleb groaned loudly. Not again. “Are you going to ask me that every time I come visit you?” he admonished. “I’m beginning to get a complex. And she’s not your namesake anymore either. We talked about this. You’re called Fred now, remember?”

Fred is a silly name for a dragon.

“Well, you’re a pretty silly dragon, so it works out just fine,” Caleb retorted, feeling his face heat. He hadn’t been prepared when Trinity had asked him his dragon’s name back at Dracken Headquarters and had blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Because the alternative—to admit whom he’d really named his dragon after—well, that would be beyond embarrassing. “In any case, no, I didn’t bring her. Sorry I’m not enough for you.”

He meant it as a joke, but the words came out more bitterly than he’d intended. Fred seemed to hesitate. You like her. You’re happy when she’s here.

Ugh. Maybe going off the food conversation had been a mistake. He closed his eyes, tried to manifest something else for his dragon to eat, but it was no use. His spark had gone out. And it would be hours, maybe days, before it regenerated. Opening his eyes again, he caught Fred giving him a disapproving look, but brushed her off.

“Look, Trin has more important things going on right now,” he told his dragon. “She and Emmy have a lot of training to get through. You remember how brutal training can be. Trin doesn’t have time to come to the Nether. She’s got things to do in the real world.”

And you do not?

Caleb flinched at Fred’s pointed question. Seriously, for a ridiculous, food-obsessed reptile, his dragon could also be startlingly perceptive at times. But what could he say? That he was hiding out in the Nether to avoid the mess he’d created in real life?

He should have never kissed her. That was his first mistake and probably the stupidest thing he could have done. She was a legend. A leader. The Fire Kissed, for God’s sake! She deserved a match of the highest order. A real man with character and integrity and power.

And what was he? Nothing. Nobody. Just a petty criminal from Strata-D—not even his own family wanted him around. He wasn’t good enough for someone like her. He wasn’t even worthy of licking her boots to clean them.

And yet…

His mind flashed back to her hands, gripping him tightly and pulling him close. Her heart matching the erratic beats of his own. The look in her eyes, the catch of breath at her throat, her soft, silky skin melting against him—he’d lost himself in the fantasy of it all. And as her lips clung to his as if her life depended on it, he’d allowed himself—for one precious moment—to believe she could see beyond what everybody else saw. Just once, he wanted someone to look up to him.

Instead her dark eyes gazed upon him with apology. With…pity.

Anger rose as he remembered that look. Shards of glass, tearing into his soul as she yanked herself away. She’d had excuses, many, many excuses. But the truth remained the same. She only felt sorry for him. The boy with the dead dragon.

He scowled, digging his nails into his palms. Well, she could keep her pity. He was doing just fine on his own. And as for Fred? Well, who cared that she was technically deceased? He could see her anytime he wanted to here in the Nether.

Not anytime. Not if you value your health.

Caleb grunted, waving off his dragon’s warning. But deep down he had to admit she was probably right. The extended trips to the Nether were taking a massive toll on him. In fact, he’d hardly recognized his face in the mirror that morning. Sallow skin, sunken eyes, cracked lips. And that was just on the surface. He didn’t want to think about his hands shaking uncontrollably. His heart palpitating far too fast. His mind unable to focus on something as simple as tying his shoes.

He’d told himself he’d take the day off. Spend some time in the real world, regain his strength. But then he ran into Trinity in the corridor. Saw the haunted look in her eyes. Remembered all the things he’d said the night of the party—his desperate attempt to save some sort of face. And before he knew it, he was palming the sapphire.

He knew he had to be careful. While a single trip to the Nether would leave you with a headache, extended trips could cause your brain to go into permanent stasis. You’d still be alive—your heart would still beat and blood would still flow through your veins—but your mind would be gone, on a one-way trip to Dragon Land, never to return.

And while sometimes the idea didn’t sound half bad, Caleb knew he could never allow himself to succumb. Darius was counting on him. He’d seen something worthy in the rat he’d plucked from the gutter. How could he let his mentor down?

His ruminations were interrupted as he felt Fred twitch. “What’s wrong, girl?” he asked, snapping back to the present. But before the dragon could answer, he saw for himself.

His brother was dressed in formal Academy attire—black pants, white shirt, crimson jacket, adorned with scattered medals and pins, each representing one of the Dragon Hunter’s kills. Caleb couldn’t help but wonder which shiny medal Connor had been awarded for slaying poor Fred, and in a moment of rage considered ripping each and every one of them off of his brother’s chest.

You think they make you a hero, he thought bitterly, but you’re nothing more than a killer.

Forcing his anger aside, he stepped between his dragon and his brother, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. He knew Connor couldn’t hurt Fred in the Nether—he’d already done all he could to his poor dragon in real life—but he felt a bristle of protectiveness all the same.

“How did you find me?” he asked, not bothering with pleasantries. But even as he voiced the question, he knew. Too much time in the Nether had obviously weakened him, made him easier to locate by those with the gift. Another reason it was good that Trin was spending all her time in the real world. The last thing she needed was for his brother to track her down. “And what do you want?”

“I wanted to congratulate you,” Connor said simply, ducking under the cave’s low entrance and strolling toward him with deceptively casual steps. As he drew closer in the dim light, Caleb got a better look at the Dragon Hunter, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Connor looked in worse shape than he did—evidently he’d been power-using his gift as well these past few days. Though, of course, his reason was very different than Caleb’s—seeking to find Trinity, not escape her.

“Congratulations from you?” he drawled, keeping his face neutral. No need to let his brother see his upset. “Have pigs finally learned to fly?”

“No, but I understand dragons have. Or one particular dragon in this case.”

Connor spoke lightly, easily, but Caleb could detect the flicker of annoyance cross his brother’s otherwise smooth face. And suddenly he realized why. He must have found out somehow that the egg had hatched. That he had lost. The great Dragon Hunter had been defeated at last. And not only defeated, but defeated by his own no-good, Strata-D criminal twin! A smile tugged at the corners of Caleb’s lips.

“Don’t thank me,” he replied smoothly, running a hand along Fred’s long neck. “It was your girl who did it all.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the worst part, you know. You couldn’t have just gone and done this stupid thing on your own. You had to drag poor Trinity down with you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I have left her behind to make it easier for you to kill her?”

“I wouldn’t have had to kill her if you’d just left the flecking egg. It could have gone down the volcano and everything would have been fine. No one would have had to die.”

“Um, yeah, except for the entire world,” Caleb reminded him. “The human race needs dragons to survive. Otherwise we’ll be the ones going extinct.”

Connor groaned loudly. “Is that how the Dracken are playing it now? That they’re on some mission to save the world?” He shook his head. “Seriously, Caleb, how could you believe that? You saw what dragons are capable of. You saw what that one did to our own father.”

“What, defend herself against a man who was trying to slaughter her for no reason?” Caleb asked. “Face it, Connor. Our father wasn’t a hero. He was just a money-grubbing mercenary, killing for coin.”

“And what’s Darius willing to kill for?” Connor shot back. “What does he hope to gain from striking down a poor, helpless old man?” He screwed up his face. “Trinity’s grandfather barely escaped with his life, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” Caleb blurted, against his better judgment. “Trinity’s grandfather is dead.” His brother was starting to piss him off. “And it’s pretty obvious who killed him.”

To his annoyance, Connor started to laugh. “Oh, so they’re trying to pin it on me, are they? I should have known.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, you can call off the lynch mob, seeing as he’s very much alive.”

Caleb stared at him, a strange flurry of emotions hitting him hard and fast. Joy at the idea of Trinity’s beloved grandpa being alive; fury at Connor for trying to blame his friends for his attempted murder.

“You’re lying,” he stammered, trying to catch his breath.

He’s not.

Caleb whirled around. Fred was still standing behind him. The dragon gave him a hard look.

Listen. You know he’s not.

“But why would Darius do something like that?” Caleb demanded, turning away from the dragon. “He wants Trinity on his side.”

“Exactly. He needs her,” Connor agreed. “If she leaves, his whole operation is botched for good. So why not take out the one thing she cares about more than anything in the world? Leave her completely dependent on the Dracken with no place left to go.”

Caleb frowned. He wanted to tell his brother that he was crazy. That Darius was good and kind and had rescued him when he had nowhere else to turn. But that would just prove Connor’s point, wouldn’t it? Everyone here—every Potential they had—was orphaned or otherwise alone in the world, with no ties to their previous lives. That way Darius never had to worry about divided loyalties; no one had anything left to lose.

But Trin was different. She hadn’t come here of her own free will. She hadn’t needed a rescue. She had a life outside these walls. And as long as she did, she could never fully become part of the Dracken. Not in the way Darius wanted her to anyway.

He looked up at his brother. “Why are you telling me this?”

Connor leveled his eyes on him. “Because Trinity deserves to know the truth. And since she’s shut me out, you’re the only one who can tell her.” He shrugged. “But don’t take my word for it. Meet me in Tucson. See her grandpa yourself and hear what he has to say.” He paused, then added, “You say you care about her. Well, now’s your chance to prove it.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Argh! That was so close! Try again, Em! I know you can do it!”

Trinity reached down, palming the tennis ball, then stretching to full height again, preparing for another throw. Emmy hovered a few feet away, her wings beating madly at the air, her eager eyes glued to the ball. Trin could barely believe how big the dragon had gotten, going from the size of a baby bird to a plump, full-grown Chihuahua in just a few days. She supposed it wasn’t too surprising, though, given the dragon’s never-ending appetite. Caleb had told her dragons would eat until they exploded; Trinity was now beginning to believe it.

The little dragon did a showy flip, then tossed Trin an impatient look, once again eyeing the ball in her hand. Trinity let the ball fly, watching it spiral high into the open-air courtyard of the west wing. “Have at it, Emmy!” she crowed. “Go, go, go!”

Before Emmy’s birth, if you’d asked Trinity what being a Dragon Guardian meant, she probably would have guessed it was just hop on a dragon and hope for the best—as she had with Caleb in the Nether. But in real life, it turned out, there was a lot more to it than that. The Dracken had created a highly regulated training regimen—one, they insisted, all Guardians go through. From offensive maneuvers to healing arts, defensive tactics to stealth operations—the program covered it all. It was like training to be all the character classes in a Dungeons and Dragons handbook at once—all with the aid of an actual dragon.

The green dragon’s face was awash with concentration, her eyes drilling into the falling ball. She pulled back her head, waited for just the right moment, then opened her mouth.

Whoosh! The flames shot from deep in her throat, hurtling through the air and smacking the tennis ball square on. The ball burst into flames before falling harmlessly to the ground in a puff of black smoke. Trinity let out a loud whoop of triumph, pride gushing through her.

“Yeah, baby! That’s how it’s done!” She held out her hand as the dragon flew by, slapping her palm against an outstretched wing. Emmy squeaked in excitement, dropping to the ground and doing a little victory lap around the still-smoking tennis ball. Trinity couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” she teased.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the guard making his move, crossing the courtyard, then disappearing through the door at the far end of the room. She glanced at her watch, her smile fading. Right on time. She turned to Emmy.

Okay, we’ve got five minutes. Let’s do this.

She ran to the edge of the courtyard to the west wall, where a colorful tapestry, depicting a dragon fighting a medieval knight, hung from floor to ceiling. To a casual onlooker, the wall would seem solid and seamless behind its flashy decor. But Trin had studied Aiko’s blueprints and knew there had once been a door, covered up by drywall when the Dracken remodeled. A door that led to a series of twisty passageways which employees had once used to transport trash or receive deliveries. From what Trin could determine from the blueprints, these back hallways culminated at a large underground garage, where a single elevator offered an unguarded exit—a chance to escape.

Trin pulled back the tapestry, scanning the blank wall, running her fingers over its smooth surface. She’d been timing the patrols all day and had calculated five minutes between shift changes. Which meant they didn’t have time to get this wrong.

It should be right about here, she told the dragon. Give it a try.

Emmy pulled back her little head, letting loose a long, steady stream of fire. The drywall cracked and hissed under the heat but soon melted away, revealing, to Trinity’s excitement, the outline of a door underneath. She beat out the flames with the emergency fire blanket they’d given her for training purposes, then turned to her dragon.

Good work! Now let’s get out of here.

As she grabbed chunks of charred drywall, ripping them away to unblock the door, she wondered what the Potentials would think when they realized she’d gone. She felt a little guilty, to be honest, just taking off without even saying good-bye. They’d been so nice to her, so welcoming. But she couldn’t trust them to stay quiet if they learned of her plans and she really couldn’t blame them either. Their entire lives had been constructed around the idea that Emmy would stay and grow and hatch baby dragons that they would be assigned to take care of. Without Emmy, there would be no dragon program. No reason for them to remain. She didn’t want to think about where they’d end up if the Dracken turned them out on the streets.

But she had no choice. She had to know for sure whether Darius was telling the truth. If her grandpa was really dead. And if he was, well, at least this way she’d get a chance to attend his funeral. To give him a proper good-bye. Maybe after all was said and done she’d consider coming back here to resume her training. But under her rules this time. She refused to be made a prisoner. Even if it was for her “own good.”

Trinity studied the door. It appeared as if its handle had been removed when it had been covered up, meaning it wouldn’t be easy to pull it open. She bit her lower lip, glancing at her watch. They only had about two minutes left.

Try to pry open the door, she told Emmy. Use your claws.

She still wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do with her dragon once they were out in the wild. It wasn’t as if Emmy could exactly blend in. And at the rate she was growing, she couldn’t be a house pet for long. But when Trin had floated the idea of the dragon remaining here, where it was safe, Emmy refused to even consider it.

I go where you go. We are destined…

Deep inside, Trinity was relieved to hear it. The little dragon was a part of her now. She needed Emmy as much as Emmy needed her.

Come on, she urged her dragon. We almost have it.

The sound of a door slamming behind her interrupted their progress. She whirled around, startled, to see a lone figure entering the far end of the courtyard. Horrified, she yanked the curtain down over the gaping hole, obscuring it from view. What is he doing? she thought furiously. This place was supposed to be off limits while she was training except for the regular patrols. Who would dare to interrupt the Fire Kissed at work?

Then she realized exactly who.

Caleb.

Her heart fluttered involuntarily in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to him since the night she’d learned of her grandpa’s death—the night he’d been so cruel. Now, as he approached, she couldn’t help but notice his gaunt face, his hollow, shadowed eyes. He looked terrible, she realized, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. And was his arm wrapped in some kind of sling?

“What happened to you?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay casual as she gestured to his arm. “Some girl get a little too feisty in the Nether?” She said it as a joke but caught a tinge of bitterness thread through her voice all the same.

Caleb didn’t reply. Instead, he walked straight up to her, coming too close, invading her space. She found herself trembling, her heart pounding in confusion, as he took her hands in his and squeezed them tight. What was he doing? Desperately, she attempted to clear her mind, force it into blankness so he couldn’t discover what she was hiding just beyond the curtain.

“What you do want?” she demanded angrily. “I don’t have time to—”

She stopped short as her eyes met his own—eyes as clear blue as the sky on a cloudless day. Eyes she’d recognize anywhere.

Her face clouded with confusion. “You’re not Caleb,” she gasped. “You’re—”

Connor clamped his mouth over hers, silencing her with a hard, long kiss just as the guard stepped back into the room. She struggled to free herself, but his hands closed around her forearms. As his lips moved against hers, she felt a voice sweep through her consciousness.

Look under your bed. I left you something.

Then he released her, pushing her away. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the guard giving them an amused look before continuing his rounds. She stared at the Dragon Hunter, unable to speak, unable to move. What was he doing here? Had he come to rescue her?

Or finish her once and for all?

Chapter Thirty-Four

Trinity ran to her room, Emmy flying high above her. When she got there, she dismissed her maid and shut the door, locking it behind her. Dropping to her knees, she peered under the bed, pulse beating erratically as she wondered what Connor could have left for her there. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she pulled out a small laptop accompanied by a pair of headphones.

“What the…?” she trailed off, walking the computer over to her desk and setting it down. With shaking hands, she lifted the cover, bringing it to life. She gasped as her eyes fell upon the sole program sitting on the desktop.

Fields of Fantasy. With the expansion pack already installed.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, glancing up at Emmy. Of all the possible things she could have imagined, this was definitely not it. The dragon looked down at the game with mild curiosity, her eyes narrowing at the splash screen depicting a knight slaying a dragon. She gave a disapproving snort.

“Sorry, this game does have its share of dragoncide,” Trin admitted with a rueful grin. “But it’s pretty awesome all the same.” She stared at the screen, elated yet confused as hell. Why had Connor left this for her? Surely it was more than a late Christmas present.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” She looked up at Emmy. “Wait for me outside,” she said. “Sound the alarm if someone comes.” She wasn’t sure what the Dracken would do if they found her with an unauthorized laptop, but she didn’t want to find out.

The dragon tossed her head in agreement and Trinity opened the door to allow her to exit. Then she returned to the laptop. It had been rigged, she noticed, to some kind of wireless hot-spot device, giving her Internet access even in this dead zone of a mall. Very clever. With trembling fingers, she somehow managed to log in with her character and waited for the game to load. The expansion pack had a spanking new intro scene that she was desperate to watch, but she forced herself to click through it, not wanting to waste any time.

A moment later, her Elven mage StarrLight appeared on the screen, exactly where she’d left her: dancing on the table in the middle of the town tavern, scantily dressed and double-fisting two large mugs of beer. Trin couldn’t help but laugh. The last time she’d played was with Caitlin, who passionately believed the game’s only redeeming quality was its hook-up potential. Trin had never had the heart to tell her that the majority of the strapping elves she flirted shamelessly with were probably actually forty-year-old men living in their mothers’ basements.

Quickly, she did a search for her friend.

>>HotElfChick69 is not online.

She sighed. That would have been too easy.

She turned her attention back to the situation at hand, directing her character to jump off the table and walk out of the tavern. Now what? she wondered. What did Connor want her to do?

>> Stegosaurus65 has come online.

Wait, what? Trinity scrolled back up the dialog box at the bottom of the screen to make sure she’d read that right. At the same moment, a big, burly, and very familiar-looking level one barbarian walked out of the tavern. Stegosaurus65—she’d recognize him anywhere.

“But that’s impossible,” she whispered. Stegosaurus65 was the character she’d helped her grandpa create last year when he’d been curious to see for himself the game that took up so much of his granddaughter’s time. He’d lasted all of ten minutes before declaring that all the colors and sounds were making him dizzy and he’d never logged on again.

>>Stegosaurus65 invites you to join his party.

She swallowed hard, then hit accept, grabbing the headphones off the desk and shoving them over her ears.

“Um, hello?” she said through the microphone. “Who is this?”

She waited, breath lodged in her throat, for his reply. As the moment stretched on, she tried to prepare herself for inevitable disappointment and—

“Is this thing on?” There was a rapping on the microphone. “Goddamn futuristic technology…”

“Grandpa!” she screeched, then clamped a hand over her mouth, glancing worriedly at her closed door. The last thing she needed was to get caught now. “Is that you?”

“Trinity?” His voice was so loud she had to turn down the volume. “Speak up, girl! I can’t hear you over this blasted thing.”

She laughed even as the tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s me, Grandpa,” she told him as loud as she dared, while she watched the barbarian on the screen stumble into a tree and get stuck in its branches. What a noob, she thought, her heart soaring with affection. What a total noob.

“Where are you?” she asked. “They told me you were dead.” Her hands fell to the keyboard and she instructed StarrLight to give Stegosaurus a hug. It wasn’t the same as a real-life one, but at the moment she’d take what she could get. The whole thing was just so surreal—she could barely believe it was happening.

“Please. You think I’d go off and croak, and let you have all the fun raising the world’s last dragon?” he retorted gruffly, his voice cracking at the edges. On the screen, his barbarian broke out into a jig. She laughed and joined him, feeling totally silly yet totally happy too. Seriously—best game ever.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, then repeated herself louder so he could hear her. “I should have believed you from the beginning.”

Her grandpa’s voice was firm. “You believe now. That’s all that matters.”

He was right, she thought, as she looked around the colorful town square, drinking in all the familiar sights and sounds. It was funny—though the Dracken had created real-life accommodations made of her wildest fantasies, this simple video game felt a thousand times more luxurious.

>>ConnorTheDragonHunter has joined the party.

“Pretty clever, huh?” Connor’s voice broke in through her headphones, just as a dashing blond warrior wielding a two-handed sword walked onto the screen. Trinity’s heart melted a little at the sight of him. Talk about a knight in shining armor…

“It was your grandpa’s idea,” the dragon hunter continued. “I needed to talk to you and you’d blocked me from your mind. But your grandfather knew you wouldn’t be able to resist logging into your precious game.” He walked over and joined Stegosaurus in his dance.

“He knows me too well,” she said with a groan. She wondered where he was now—was he still inside Dracken Headquarters? She glanced at the door, both longingly and fearfully. A part of her wanted to see him so badly, but the other was afraid of what he’d do. He’d obviously seen Emmy in the courtyard. He knew she’d hatched. And if Caleb and the Dracken were to be believed, that meant he was here for one thing and one thing only.

“Why are you here, Connor?” she asked, deciding there was no time to be coy. “What do you want from me?”

Connor’s knight stopped dancing. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she snapped. “I know all about your little mission to save the world. Specifically the part where you were planning to kill me if things didn’t go your way.”

“Wait, what?” her grandpa broke in. “What are you talking about? Connor’s there to rescue you, not kill you.”

“He probably told you that, Grandpa, but that was never his true mission,” she said in a flat voice. “Was it, Connor?”

She waited for him to deny it. To tell her that Caleb had been lying. That he’d made it all up just to get her on his side. But Connor only sighed deeply. “Yes,” he said at last. “That was my mission.”

She glared at the screen—at his avatar—wanting to be furious, but instead feeling only hurt and betrayal clawing at her insides. “You kissed me,” she seethed. “You made me think we were on the same team. I trusted you. I saved your life from those government agents. And the whole time you were just leading me on! To get me to trust you so you could cut me down when the time was right.”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“Then what was it like?” she demanded. “I think I deserve to know the truth.”

“You’d better start talking,” her grandpa added, the level one barbarian stepping in front of the knight, his massive arms crossing over his beefy chest. “Now.”

The knight nodded, sinking down onto a nearby bench. “You have to understand,” he began in a low voice. “When I first got my orders, I didn’t know anything about you except what I’d learned at the academy. They taught us you were evil, that you’d set dragons on the world. They told us you were the one responsible for all the destruction. For millions of deaths.” She could hear his hard swallow in her ears. “For my father’s death.”

Trinity cringed. In all her self-righteous anger, she’d conveniently forgotten about her future self’s role in this whole mess. She, with the help of her Dracken friends, had inadvertently released monsters upon the world, destroying everything Connor loved. She supposed she could understand why he might be a little reluctant to confide in her.

But still…

“It’s a bit harsh to judge me for something I haven’t even done yet,” she pointed out, “something that I might not even do.”

“You’re right,” he said simply. “You’re absolutely right. And when I finally did meet you—when I started to get to know who you were—I realized the history texts had to be wrong. You weren’t some cold, world-destroying monster. You were just an innocent girl who had no idea of the situation she was about to be put into.” He sighed. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to know I might have to kill you to save the world, all while you’re trying to help me figure out a way to do it?” He paused, then added, “Let’s just say suddenly things didn’t seem so black and white anymore.”

Trinity twisted her mother’s ring. “I guess I know what you mean,” she admitted. “It was kind of the same—once I met Emmy.” She remembered how much she wanted to destroy the egg when she’d first learned of what it was capable of. To snuff out Emmy’s life force before she even had the chance to be born. It was inconceivable to think of now. And maybe Connor felt the same way about her.

“It doesn’t help that I’ve had to spend the last week sharing hotel rooms with this old guy,” Connor added, his character tossing his head toward the barbarian. “Having to hear how amazing you are. How smart and dedicated and loyal you are. How hard you work every day to keep him and his museum afloat. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Well, it’s true!” Grandpa blustered over the headphones. “I owe this little girl everything.”

Trinity stared at the screen, tears welling in her eyes. All this time she’d assumed her guardian had been too wrapped up in his own fantasy world to recognize any of the work she’d put in behind the scenes. But he’d noticed. He’d been paying attention all along. A choking sound escaped her throat.

“I love you, Grandpa,” she whispered, then repeated it louder so he could hear.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he said. “And I’m not going to let anyone touch a hair on your pretty little head.” He huffed. “I am Stegg the Barbarian after all!” His character beat his chest and roared.

She laughed. “Yes. Very frightening.” Then she sobered. “So what’s the deal, Connor? You still haven’t told us what you plan to do.”

She heard his deep sigh over the headphones. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “The thought of allowing dragons to exist in the world terrifies me more than you could ever know. But at the same time, how can I go and mercilessly cut someone down in cold blood who has done nothing wrong?” He paused, then added, “And not just someone. You.”

His breath hitched and Trinity felt her heart beat a little faster. She suddenly wished she wasn’t in the game but right in front of Connor in real life, so she could look into his eyes and see the truth that she so desperately wanted to see.

“I always prided myself on following orders,” he continued in a rush, “never questioning what they told me to do. But what if they were wrong? What if there is another way? Should I blindly stumble on because some people from an alternate future once told me to?” He cleared his throat. “I can’t. I just can’t. Maybe that makes me a terrible soldier. Maybe they should have never sent me here in the first place. But I’m here now. And I think it’s time to start making my own rules. Find a way to make this all work—where no one innocent has to die.”

His words were passionate, his tone fierce, sending chills down Trinity’s spine. Did he really mean what he said? Could they really have a chance? “What about Emmy?”

“Well, I’m not likely to let her sleep at the foot of my bed or lick my face anytime soon,” he said dryly, “but I’m willing to give her a chance. Most historians claim it was the hybrids that caused all the trouble. If this is true, then it should be okay for Emmy to exist—as long as we can get her away from the Dracken.”

“But wait,” Trinity hesitated. “Can’t the Dracken help us? They’ve got everything you’d need to raise a dragon here, not to mention a good hiding spot.”

Silence fell over her headphones. “What?” she demanded, a cold chill rising inside of her. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Trinity, honey,” Grandpa interjected at last, “the Dracken tried to kill me.”

She froze, staring at the screen in horror. She suddenly realized that in her joy of seeing her grandpa still alive, she’d neglected to connect the dots in her mind. Darius must have doctored that newspaper, assuming the deed had already been done. And worse, he’d tried to pin the whole thing on Connor to make sure she’d never trust him again.

He’d been so sympathetic. So willing to comfort her when she’d fallen into his arms. Ready to hold a memorial service even—to honor a man he himself had ordered killed. She squeezed her hands into fists. “God, I should have had Emmy flambé that bastard when I had the chance.”

Connor’s knight put a comforting hand on her character’s shoulder. “While I’d definitely be the first to toast marshmallows on that bonfire,” he assured her, “there’s no time for that now. I had to trick my poor brother so I could get inside and give you the laptop. It won’t take him long to figure out what I did and return. We can’t be here when he does.”

Trinity’s heart squeezed as she thought of Caleb. “He isn’t…” she started, then trailed off. “I mean, he’s not like…”

“He didn’t know about your grandfather,” Connor told her gently, “which means he wasn’t in on Darius’s plans.”

Trin let out a sigh of relief. That was something at least. “I’m pretty sure the rest of the kids here—the Potentials—aren’t either. They’re so nice. They truly believe they’ve been brought here to save the world.” Her heart ached at the thought.

“We’ll figure out what to do about them later,” Connor said. “First we need to find a way to get out of here. I could walk right in, pretending to be my brother. But I can’t exactly waltz you and Emmy out the front door.”

“No, but we can take the back,” Trinity broke in excitedly. “There are back passageways that run along the entire mall. The Dracken had them all sealed off—I don’t think many people here even know they exist. But I was able to find a door in the west courtyard that leads to a parking garage underground where an elevator can take us outside.” She paused. “In fact, I was about to head down there and make my escape when you showed up.”

“You were?” Connor’s character face-palmed. “And here I thought I was your knight in shining armor coming to your aid.”

She smirked. “Please. This princess can save herself,” she declared. She paused, then added, “But I am glad you’re here all the same.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

“The door to the parking garage should be right around here somewhere,” Trinity whispered, consulting her blueprints before beckoning for Connor to follow her down the long, dark hallway that wound parallel to the mall. Emmy flapped along behind them, her eyes darting to every corner, her ears pricked for signs of trouble. The passageways hadn’t been used for some time, judging from the dust and cobwebs, and it was all Trin could do to keep from sneezing and giving their position away. The walls were so thin that at times they could hear muffled conversations going on behind them, and Trin realized it would take only the slightest noise for the Dracken to discover that they had rats in their walls.

The passageway rounded a corner and the three of them stopped to take a peek. Sure enough, as the blueprints had indicated, the corridor dead-ended in a set of tall double doors rising before them, banded with iron. What the blueprints hadn’t been able to tell them, however, was that these particular doors were guarded by two armed men. Trinity’s heart fluttered with apprehension as she exchanged a look with Connor. What were they doing here? The Dracken must have left another entrance open when they did their remodel. But why? Was there something hidden behind these doors besides freedom? Something worth guarding?

She looked down at the blueprints, searching for another way out. But this was it—the only way into the underground parking garage and their only hope for escape. They’d have to take out the guards somehow—quickly, quietly, as to not alert anyone on the other side of the walls. At least from the blueprints, she knew the store behind them was being used as unoccupied storage space, so it was unlikely anyone was in close proximity, but a gunshot would definitely be heard throughout the mall. There had to be another way. But how? Walk up to the guards and ask nicely?

You’re going to have to push them, Connor told her silently. I’d help you, but it took all the spark I had left just to get inside and get you that laptop. I’m completely drained.

She let out a slow breath, thinking back to the cop she’d unknowingly pushed on Christmas morning. It had practically killed her. But what choice did she have? They had to get past the guards somehow.

Emmy can help you, Connor added, if you combine your spark.

Right. She nodded. That was one of the things they’d been working on during training—pooling their energies to become twice as strong. But still, practice was one thing. Two heavily armed real-life men was quite another. If she failed…

Connor reached out, squeezing her hand in his and giving her an encouraging look. You can do this, he assured her. You’re the Fire Kissed, after all.

She rolled her eyes. Oh God, don’t you start all that too, she moaned. But inside she was secretly pleased. Connor believed in her. He trusted her with his life. She wasn’t about to let him down.

Okay, she declared. Here goes nothing. You ready, Emmy?

She reached out to her dragon, finding her with her mind. Emmy responded immediately, melding her spark with her mistress’s. Soon the whirling ball of their combined energy spun and sparkled at the front of them, seeming as big as a planet. Trin grinned at the dragon, her confidence rising.

Oh yeah, baby. We gotz mad skillz. Just try to resist us!

Connor gave her a dry look. Um, let’s not overdo it.

Quiet, peanut gallery, she scolded. Just count us down.

In three…two…one…

She pushed. Let us in. Let us in. LET US IN.

The all-too-familiar nausea washed over her like a tidal wave. Trin winced, closing her eyes until the initial feeling passed. Forcing in a shaky breath, she looked up at Connor in question. Did it work?

Only one way to find out. Connor motioned for her to stay put as he rounded the corner.

“Hey, guys!” he greeted the guards casually. “How’s it going? I’ve got some business behind these doors. Do you mind letting me in?”

The guards looked at him, then at each other. “Sorry,” the first one said. “Darius left specific instructions that no one is allowed to pass through these doors.”

Connor rolled his eyes in a perfect mimic of his brother. “Darius was the one who told me to come here in the first place. So how about it? Will you let me in?” He said the words slowly, so Trinity could repeat them with another push.

Let us in. Let us in. Let us in.

The effort almost knocked her off her feet. Yet the guards’ expressions didn’t change. They didn’t step aside. Trinity bit her lower lip, glancing up at Emmy nervously. Why wasn’t it working? The strength of their combined push should have had the guards falling over one another trying to be the first to let Connor through. Instead, they seemed completely unmoved.

“Maybe we should give Darius a call,” the second guard said, “just to make sure.”

Connor snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that,” he replied. “I mean, personally I’d rather wake a sleeping bear, but maybe that’s just me.” His tone was casual and confident, but Trin caught a thread of fear winding through his voice. He obviously knew something was wrong. But what was it?

She searched the guards’ faces, praying for even a hint of doubt somewhere in the depths of their eyes. It was then that she realized how young they were. Under their imposing uniforms, they were merely teenage boys, unlike the other guards she’d seen milling about the place. The mercenaries the Dracken had hired were all ex-military—burly and beefy and scarred. These boys were skinny and fresh-faced and…

…not guards at all.

The realization hit her with the force of a ten-ton truck. These weren’t guards. They were Potentials. Whatever was behind the door was evidently too secret for mere mercenaries to be entrusted with guarding. Instead, the Dracken had manned it with those who would be resistant to mind manipulation.

Those who could read minds on their own.

Connor, we need to get out of here! she sent. This isn’t going to work.

If the Potentials read Connor’s mind, they would realize everything. They’d sound the alarm. They’d stop their escape. She and Emmy would be captured. Connor would be killed.

She couldn’t let that happen.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying one more time. Let us go, let us go, LET US GO!

Icy pain stabbed at her like a thousand icicles boring into her brain. Her legs gave out from under her and she fell to the ground with a crash. But the Potentials remained unaffected, the first one making a move for his transcriber.

“You know what?” Connor broke in with a barking laugh. “Maybe I made a mistake. Maybe I’m at the wrong door.” He hastily began to back away. But before he could break free, the second Potential grabbed him by his collar, yanking him toward him, then shoving him face-first into the cement wall. Trin let out a squeak of horror as she caught the blood trickling down Connor’s jaw as he staggered, dazed from the blow to his head.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” the Potential growled. “Not until we check your story out.” He pinned Connor to the wall by his neck, then turned to his friend. “Call Darius,” he commanded. “Inform him we’ve got a situation.”

The Potential palmed his transcriber, ready to make the call. Trinity’s fear threatened to throttle her and she grappled for a solution. In seconds it would all be over—any chance they had to escape gone for good. Desperate, she reached out to her dragon one final time.

Emmy—help!

She meant help with another push, but Emmy evidently had other ideas. The dragon took flight, diving into the room, facing down the Potentials with a fierce, furious expression on her reptilian face. The two men stared up at her, their faces draining of color.

“Oh hell,” one of them cried. “It’s the dragon.”

“Let’s get out of here!”

They turned to run, fighting one another to be first out of the room. In their haste, one of them bowled straight into Trinity, knocking her over. As she stumbled, her head slammed against the cement post and she cried out in pain.

Emmy reacted instantly, spinning around, diving after the boys, effectively blocking their paths. Black smoke billowed from her nostrils. Sparks danced on her tongue. The Potentials tried to scramble away but there was no place left to go.

I won’t let you hurt her! the dragon roared in Trinity’s ears. I won’t let you take her away!

“No, Emmy!” Trinity croaked.

But it was too late. The beast drew back her head, opened her mouth, and released her flames.

The fire hit them straight on, engulfing them completely before they even had a chance to scream. They fell to the ground, convulsing, writhing—their clothing consumed, their skin blackening to a charred crisp. Black smoke filled the room and the smell of burning flesh permeated the air.

“Oh God,” Trin whispered, horrified but unable to look away. “Oh God, no.”

But Emmy wasn’t done, swooping down on the boys again and again, clawing out their eyes, ripping away swaths of blackened flesh. Trin reached out with her mind, trying desperately to soothe her dragon’s frenzy. But Emmy’s consciousness was too hot to touch, the rage gripping the creature’s mind and refusing to let go.

“Please, Emmy…” she begged, staggering to her feet. “It’s okay. You can stop. Please stop.”

Vaguely, she realized Connor had ripped off his pack, yanking out his coat. He threw it over the burning boys in an attempt to smother the flames. Sweat dripped down his face as he pulled it away, then brought it down again. Over and over. Again and again—until he finally managed to extinguish the blaze. Breathing heavily, he dropped the coat over the corpses, then leaned against the wall, his face ashen and his expression grim.

Thankfully, Emmy’s own internal fire seemed likewise extinguished. The little dragon abandoned her victims and flew back to Trinity, giving her an excited look, as if waiting for congratulations for a job well done. Her claws were caked in flesh and her mouth was dripping with blood. Tears streamed down Trinity’s cheeks and the dragon’s face clouded with confusion. She looked at her mistress, her big, blue eyes filled with hurt.

Didn’t I do good?

Trinity’s gaze fell to Emmy’s handiwork. Then she leaned over and threw up. Emmy let out a whimper of dismay, then left Trinity, flying back up toward the ceiling, looking down on her with sad, uncomprehending eyes. As if to say, What did I do wrong?

“Yeah, sure, dragons aren’t dangerous at all,” Connor muttered under his breath as he reached down to hook the first corpse’s shoulders under his arms. He started dragging it down the hall. “Let’s go ahead and unleash them on the world. What could possibly go wrong?”

Chapter Thirty-Six

After hiding the bodies as best they could, they hurried through the double doors, closing and barricading them before rushing down the stairs. The Potentials’ deaths had been shockingly quiet considering the level of violence—their throats literally melted before any screams could escape—but neither of them wanted to take any chances that someone had overheard the struggle. The sooner they found the elevator and left the building the better.

Tears pricked at Trin’s eyes as she forced her feet to take step after step, her mind relentlessly replaying the nightmare they’d just witnessed. Her supposedly gentle dragon raging completely out of control, tearing through two human lives as if they were tissue paper. She tried to remind herself that the dragon had only been trying to protect her, that she had probably saved their lives. But the fear and horror refused to loosen their grip as she relived the scene of smoke and fire and blackened flesh over and over again. Those two boys weren’t evil monsters—they were orphans who had come here to help save the world. And yet they’d died horribly for it instead. What would the others think if they knew what her dragon had done? She imagined the revulsion on Malia’s gentle face. The fear in Aiko’s eyes. They’d think she was a monster. And maybe they wouldn’t be wrong.

And then there was Connor. She glanced at his grim face as he took the stairs two at a time. She’d promised him she could control Emmy. That their shared bond meant the dragon would do as she said. But it was as if Emmy couldn’t even hear her when she flew into her protective rage. Was Connor, even now, reconsidering his decision to allow her dragon to live?

To allow her to live?

She looked up at Emmy, who was still following though at a slight distance. The dragon had licked the blood and gore clean from her body and once again appeared to be her sweet old self. But when Trin had tried to reach out to her, the dragon refused to answer. She was still hurt by her mistress’s obvious disapproval, and try as Trin might to explain what had made her upset, the dragon seemed not to understand. In her mind it was simple: the Fire Kissed had been in trouble. She’d saved her life. How could that possibly be wrong?

After what seemed an eternity, the stairs ended, splitting into three hallways. After consulting the blueprints, Trinity selected the middle one, which was supposed to lead to the parking garage and elevator. They were getting close, she realized with growing excitement. They were almost free.

“We’re not out yet,” Connor said flatly, as if reading her thoughts. “Let’s keep moving.”

They crossed the parking lot as quickly as possible, feeling vulnerable and exposed in all the open space. But the place was deserted, and soon they spotted the rickety looking elevator, just as the plans had mapped out. Trin sent up a quick prayer of thanks as she reached out to press the red button embedded in the wall. She heard a rumbling from behind the doors and a moment later they groaned open, revealing the elevator’s interior.

“Come on!” she cried excitedly. “Let’s get out of here.” She waited for Connor and Emmy to enter, then stepped onto the elevator herself. But just as she was about to press the up arrow, a strange trilling sound reverberated through the parking lot.

“What was that?” she asked, looking around uneasily, her skin prickling with goose bumps at the high-pitched sound. It died out for a moment, then came again. Louder this time, bouncing off the walls and repeating back again.

“Forget it,” Connor said. “Let’s just go.”

She heartily agreed, pressing the up arrow and waiting for the doors to close. But just as they were about to slide shut, Emmy shot back out into the parking garage.

“Emmy!” Trin hissed, appalled. “Get back here!”

But, once again, the dragon seemed not to hear her. Instead, she bolted across the empty space in the opposite direction.

“Hell,” Trin swore. She dove out of the elevator. She couldn’t leave the dragon behind. “Emmy, get back here!”

“Trin! Wait!” Connor tried. She whirled around only to find the elevator doors sliding shut behind her, with Connor still inside. She pressed the red button frantically, but to no avail.

“Connor!” she cried. But the elevator was already shooting upward, sending him to the surface to where her grandpa would be waiting, leaving her behind.

She gritted her teeth. No big deal, she tried to tell herself. She’d go grab Emmy and by the time she got back, the elevator would have returned. Wait for me up top, she sent to Connor. I’ll be there in a minute. Sighing, she plodded through the parking lot, calling out to her dragon as she went.

Emmy, where are you?

Soon she found herself back where they’d started—at the bottom of the stairs and facing the three identical passageways. Her eyes caught a fluttering down the hall to the right and she shook her head as she headed after her errant dragon.

Come on, she scolded Emmy as she raced down the hall to catch up with her. You can be mad at me later. Right now we have to get out of here.

She caught up to the dragon at the end of the hall. Emmy was pacing back and forth—her eyes wide and her ears flattened against her skull. When she saw Trinity, she gave her a grateful look and took flight, landing on her shoulder, claws digging painfully into her skin.

I guess this means I’m forgiven, Trinity thought wryly.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, starting to get a little worried. An angry and annoyed Emmy she could deal with. Scared-half-to-death Emmy scared her as well.

Then she heard it—the strange trilling—sounding as if it were coming from behind the wall.

I want to leave, Emmy told her. I want to go now. Trin realized the little dragon was literally shaking with fright.

“Why? What do you feel?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her. “Is there something down here?” She thought back to the two Potentials guarding the door. Was this what the Dracken didn’t want anyone to see?

Let’s go now, Trin. Let’s get out of here.

Trinity was tempted to comply. Connor was waiting—they were this close to a perfect escape. And yet, something compelled her to stay. If the Dracken were up to something, she needed to know what it was. Otherwise, how would they ever be able to stop them from doing it?

“We need to figure out what’s making that noise,” she told the dragon firmly. “Then we can leave.” She walked over and put her ear up against the wall. The noise came again, causing Emmy to squawk in alarm. Trin knocked on the wall with her fist and realized it was hollow.

“There’s something behind here.” Her fingers danced across the wall, feeling for some kind of handhold or crack. “Give me a little light,” she commanded the dragon. Emmy blew out a puff of fire, illuminating the dark corridor. Just for a moment, but it was enough for Trin to locate a lever hidden in the shadows. She wrapped her hand around it and pushed down. There was a groaning sound as the wall sank into the earth, revealing a dark passageway beyond.

“Come on,” Trin instructed Emmy with growing excitement. “Let’s go.”

Emmy hovered at the doorway, shaking her head vehemently. Trin rolled her eyes. “You know, for a fire-breathing killer dragon, you’re kind of a scaredy-cat.”

But Emmy only plopped down onto the ground, crossing her wings over her chest. Trin gave up. “Have it your way,” she told the dragon. “But I’m going in.”

She stepped into the passageway. The noises grew louder, the trilling sound now accompanied by pitiful squeaks and moans and cries. Her heart thumped in her chest as she pressed onward, no idea what she was about to uncover. Whatever it was, the Dracken definitely didn’t want anyone to see it.

The passage wasn’t long, dead-ending at a small wooden door. Reaching down, she wrapped her hands around its handle and pulled it open. As she stepped into the darkened room, a sharp pain dug into her ankle, like a needle piercing the skin, and the door slammed shut behind her. She screamed, stumbling off balance and crashing into a nearby wall, springing a switch in the process. The room burst into light.

She looked around, her eyes widening, her mouth falling open in shock. Her knees buckled, threatening to give out from under her.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “It can’t be!”

But it could it be. And it was.

Dragons. Sick, mutated, diseased-looking baby dragons, some three times the size of Emmy, stacked in cages from floor to ceiling on every possible wall. Some sported three eyes; others, a fifth leg or a stump where their leg should be. Some had no legs at all—flapping their misshapen wings against the wire cages, looking at Trin with hollow, desperate eyes. A few had broken free of their confines and were tottering across the floor on skinny, malformed legs. The ankle biter looked up at her, opening his mouth and revealing a single gleaming, bucktooth fang.

Trin’s stomach clenched. It was all she could do to not run screaming from the room. Instead, she stood, frozen in place, trying to digest what she was seeing, trying to understand how it could be possible. Her brain told her it was too horrible to be real, that her eyes must be playing tricks. But when she closed them and opened them again, the dragons remained. Somehow, some way, they were really here.

Emmy? she managed to send in a shaky voice. You need to see this.

But before the dragon could reply, Connor’s voice slammed into her consciousness. Urgent and afraid.

Someone’s coming down the elevator, he rasped. Wherever you are, get out of there. Fast!

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Trinity froze, Connor’s warning echoing through her head, as her ears caught voices down the hall, confirming his words. Her gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape, but there was only one way in and one way out. And the voices were getting closer.

“What are you doing all the way down here, little one?”

Trin flinched. The voice was unmistakably Darius’s, and she realized he must have found Emmy. In another moment, he’d open the door and head in her direction. Frantic, she hit the light switch and dove behind the dragon cages. She could feel Emmy’s growing alarm ringing through her head while the dragon croaked weakly back at the Dracken master.

“Unbelievable!” another voice, heavily accented, rang through the hall. Trin furrowed her brow, trying to place it. It didn’t sound like any of the Dracken or their mercenaries—at least none she’d met. “A dragon!” the voice continued in hushed awe. “A real-life dragon, just as you said!”

“I told you, didn’t I?” Darius proclaimed, his voice rich with pride. “Now come with me and I’ll show you the rest.”

Footsteps approached and Trin crouched deeper into her hiding spot. A moment later, the door squeaked open and the light switched on again. From her vantage point, she could just make out Darius, dressed in a dapper black suit, leading a distinguished, forty-something-year-old dark-haired man into the room. As he entered, the foreigner gave a low whistle.

“Amazing! Simply amazing!”

“Didn’t I tell you? It’s quite a sight to be seen,” Darius replied, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a metal band. He slipped it over Emmy’s mouth, effectively muzzling her. Guess he wasn’t about to take his chances with dragon fire. When Emmy struggled in protest, he dug a firm thumb into a spot under her wing. The dragon whimpered but meekly quieted down. He opened up an empty cage and shoved her inside, closing and locking it behind him.

“I have to confess, I didn’t really believe you,” the man exclaimed, his eyes darting from cage to cage. “It just seemed too fantastical to be real.”

“Oh, they’re real all right,” Darius assured him. “All with perfect pedigrees. The ones you see here are approximately one year of age. Soon each will be paired with a Guardian to begin their training.”

Trinity squinted at the men, trying to figure out what was going on. Why hadn’t anyone told her there were more dragons in the mall? She’d been led to believe Emmy was the last of her kind. But that was clearly untrue. Did the other Potentials know their dragons had already been born? They couldn’t have; they wouldn’t have been so excited to see Emmy.

But why keep the rest of them a secret? And what was wrong with them, for that matter? Why were they so deformed looking? She turned back to the conversation, hoping for answers.

“When will they be ready for delivery?” the man was asking, poking a finger into one of the cages. The dragon inside hissed angrily and he pulled his finger away with a nervous laugh.

“Each dragon will complete its training at five years of age,” the Dracken Master replied smoothly. “At which time we will deliver both dragon and Guardian to your people, yours to do with as you wish.” He gave a smug smile. “Dragons have many gifts, after all: curing disease, sniffing out natural resources, finding water in the—”

The man waved him off. “Yes, yes,” he said impatiently. “But can they fight?”

Trinity held her breath, praying for Darius to scold him for the idea. To tell him these creatures were made for saving the world, not destroying it.

But the leader’s lips only curled cruelly. “Your enemies will be annihilated before they even know what hit them.”

She collapsed against the wall, her heart sinking in despair. Connor had been right all along. Caleb had been completely deceived. The Dracken were never interested in using dragons to help mankind. They were nothing more than time-traveling arms dealers.

And the Potentials! They would be sold off along with their dragons. Made into slaves. Forced to go into battle. No wonder the Dracken took only those with no family. That way there was no one left to rescue them—no one to care—when they found out the truth.

“These dragons,” the foreigner remarked, his eyes scanning the cages again, “they don’t look like the other one.” He gestured to Emmy. “Is something wrong with them? I don’t want defective merchandise.”

Darius looked uncomfortable. “We had some…issues…with the original batch of eggs,” he admitted, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow. Trin stole another peek at the mutated dragons and wondered again what could have happened to them. Maybe something about being brought back through time? Maybe the process had corrupted their DNA somehow? It made sense now why they were so eager to get their hands on Emmy. She was perfect.

She realized Darius was still talking. “But purchase these now and you’ll get first pick of the next hatchlings. The ones born from our queen.” He gestured to Emmy, who was clawing at the inside of her cage, looking terrified. “Through her, the line will grow and strengthen, providing you with a never-ending supply of the strongest, most powerful, fire-breathing beasts the world has ever seen.”

Emmy let out a horrified squawk, now thrashing wildly in her cage. Trin tried to send soothing thoughts to calm her down.

I won’t let them do that to you, she promised. No matter what. Though, she had to admit, that was easier said than done. She turned back to the Dracken and his customer.

“So do we have a deal?” Darius asked, clamping his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I must have your commitment now. We have many potential buyers waiting in the wings. It would be a shame to allow your enemy to buy your dragons and use them against you.”

Don’t let him! Emmy begged. Stop him now!

The man opened his mouth to speak. Trin gulped down her fear. In a moment, the deal would be done. It would be too late to do anything to stop it.

You don’t want any dragons, she pushed, on sudden impulse. She didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth a try—if only to calm Emmy down. You want to leave. Now.

She opened her eyes, focusing back on the man in question, whose face had clouded with sudden hesitation. Trinity grinned, realizing she’d managed to reach him in time. Totally worth the headache now stabbing at her skull.

Sorry, Darius. No sale.

“My apologies,” he said to the Dracken leader in a voice wrought with confusion. “I don’t think I want any dragons. In fact, I’d like to leave. Now.”

Trinity waited, breath firmly lodged in her throat, as a shadow crossed Darius’s smooth face. For a moment he did nothing, said nothing, only stared at the man with growing realization. Then, without warning, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a gun, shooting the man square in the chest. The foreigner fell to the ground. Dead.

“You can come out now,” Darius announced, scanning the room. When Trin didn’t move, the Dracken leader sighed deeply, then marched over to her hiding spot, grabbing her by the neck and yanking her out into the open. She yelped as his jagged nails dug into her skin.

“Very clever,” he sneered. “Though very stupid. Had you kept quiet I might not have known you were here.” He tsked. “Very stupid indeed.”

“Why would you do this?” she demanded, fighting to free herself but to no avail. “Why would you try to sell dragons to that guy? You’re going to end up destroying the world all over again!”

“Actually,” he corrected, “we’re going to save it.”

“What?” She stopped fighting, staring at him, confusion mixing with fury. “What are you talking about? You put dragons in the hands of these people—who want to wipe each other out—what do you think is going to happen?”

“I think the fire will burn and the world will be purged,” he replied simply. When she gave him an uncomprehending look, he continued, “Don’t you see, Trinity? This is why we came back here in the first place—the Dracken have been chosen to do God’s work.”

“What are you talking about?” she stammered, not sure she really wanted to hear.

“It’s simple, really. Just as once upon a time the Almighty washed away the world’s evil by sending a mighty flood, so now we have a chance to cleanse it again—this time with flame.” He looked down at her, his eyes shining. “God’s word is clear. Only through destruction can we have any hope of salvation.”

Holy crap. She stared at him, heart beating wildly in her chest. He was totally looney tunes! Could this really be the true reason the Dracken had come back in time? On some kind of insane religious crusade?

“You can’t be serious!” she cried, though the look in his eyes told her otherwise. “You’d really burn down the world on purpose? Let millions of innocent people die?”

“Innocent?” Darius repeated incredulously, for the first time losing his cool. “Innocent? Please. Have you watched your local newscasts lately? Spent any time on your Internet?” He loomed over her, his eyes darkening to angry thunderclouds. “Not a day goes by when there isn’t a bombing or a shooting or a kidnapping. Rape, torture, or war. Child abuse, drug abuse, not to mention a complete disregard for the environment.” He shook his head. “Just like Sodom and Gomorrah, the world has become a filthy, corrupt place—far beyond the point of redemption. And it only gets worse in the future.” He drew in a breath, as if trying to regain control of his emotions. “We are left with no choice but to raze the whole thing to the ground and then rise again, like a phoenix from the ashes. Except this time,” he added with a triumphant smile, “it will be on the backs of dragons.”

Trinity shrank back, unable to speak as the enormity of what he was saying sunk in. Sure the world had its problems, she wanted to protest, but there were good people here too. People worth saving.

“We never lied to you, Trinity,” Darius continued. “We told you from the very start we planned to use dragons to save the world. And that’s what we’re doing: saving the world from itself.” His gaze bore down on her. “You should feel honored,” he added. “You have been chosen out of millions as a pure soul, worthy of becoming part of our brave new world. You and the other Potentials—our own little Noah’s Ark.”

Trin nodded grimly, everything sliding into a sick sort of place. That’s why they’d gathered representatives from every country. Just like Noah saved each species of animal. Her stomach churned and she suddenly knew what she had to do.

Sorry, Emmy. But we have no choice.

“You’re sick!” she declared, drawing up all the courage she had left inside of her. “Not to mention totally insane. And if you think for one second I’m going to play your little reindeer games, you’ve got another thing coming.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him with defiant eyes. “You might as well go ahead and do it. Kill me now and get it over with. Because I’ll never join you—no matter what you try to do.”

She held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest, praying the Dracken leader would take the bait.

Sacrifice one to save the world. Turned out it’d been her mission all along.

Darius looked at her for a moment, then he burst out laughing. “Do you think I’m stupid?” he demanded. “Do you think I don’t know that Emmy’s life force is entwined with your own? If I kill you, she dies. Unless…” His lips curled into a smirk. “I de-bond you and bring in the backup.” He nodded slowly, as if coming to some sort of conclusion. “Yes, I think that’s the only thing to do at this point, seeing as you’re so unwilling to see the light.”

Trinity froze. “Backup?” she repeated doubtfully.

“My dear girl, do you think we came all this way without a plan B?” Darius asked in an incredulous voice. “Of course we kept a spare around, in case this kind of thing was to happen.”

“You’re telling me you have a spare Fire Kissed just sitting on ice?” she shot back. The idea was ridiculous. But something in Darius’s eyes told her it was also somehow unfortunately true.

“But of course. There’s usually one in every generation. And it can often be hereditary.”

She gasped, what he was saying suddenly making perfect sense. “You mean my grandpa!” she breathed. Thank goodness Connor had him under his protection. She prayed he was far, far away and out of the Dracken’s reach.

Darius raised an eyebrow. “No, no,” he corrected, giving her a cold, hard look. “I mean your mother.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Trinity stared at him, her mind reeling at his pronouncement. “That’s impossible,” she protested. “My mother is dead.”

“On the contrary,” Darius replied smoothly, “she’s very much alive. Would you like to see for yourself?”

Trin nodded dumbly—what else could she do? She tried to tell herself it was some kind of sick joke, a trick Darius had concocted to screw with her head. Because her mother couldn’t be alive. Trinity had seen her body, her head blown to smithereens. Her beloved bunny slippers still on her feet. The emerald ring still on her finger.

She twisted the ring in question almost violently, her stomach flip-flopping madly, this close to throwing up. How could she be alive? There was no way. No way on Earth.

Except, what if there was?

Giving one last longing look at Emmy, still stuck in her cage, she allowed Darius to escort her back to the staircase with the three hallways, this time taking the one to the left. The only one she hadn’t been down. She followed the light from the Dracken leader’s industrial-strength flashlight, her pulse pounding out her fear as she forced her feet to step, one foot in front of the other, down the featureless hallway. She wondered dully if she should try to escape. To overpower him and make a run for the elevator where Connor was probably still waiting. But Emmy was locked in a cage, and now more than ever, she couldn’t leave her behind. Not now that she knew what the Dracken were planning to do with her. She couldn’t even dare risk sending a message to Connor to let him know what had happened for fear Darius would intercept it and learn of his location.

And then there was her mother. If she was really here somehow—really alive—there was no way Trin could just walk away. Not without knowing for sure.

They stopped in front of a door at the far end of the hall—a simple door made of wood with no fancy locks to keep it secured or closed. Darius wrapped his hands around the knob and pulled it open, gesturing for Trinity to enter. She did, stepping into a small bedroom.

It was stark and barren, with none of the luxuries of her own room upstairs. A plain twin bed, lodged up against one wall, fitted with crisp, hospital-cornered sheets. A washbasin and toilet sat against the other, simple but recently cleaned.

But it was the back of the room that pulled Trinity’s gaze. A lone figure, silhouetted in the darkness, rocking slowly in a small wooden chair. From here, Trin could just make out the woman’s long, stringy black hair and emaciated frame, a dingy white tunic dress hanging from her shrunken flesh.

She stepped closer to get a better look, her mind a crazy tangle of hope and fear. She wanted it to be a lie but she wanted it to be the truth all the same. As she approached, Darius flipped a switch and light flooded the room.

Trin gasped, staggering from the shock. It couldn’t be.

But it was.

“Mom?” she whispered

The woman in the chair—her mother—did not respond. Instead, she continued to rock herself slowly, as her vacant black eyes stared into space. Trinity ran to her, dropping to her knees, peering up at her, waving her hands in her face. But it did no good. Her mother did not respond.

“What’s wrong with her?” she demanded, turning back to Darius. He shrugged.

“She’s in the Nether,” he said simply. “It’s where she prefers to spend all her time these days. It’s more pleasant in there, I suppose, than her everyday reality.”

Looking around the room, Trinity couldn’t blame her. Slowly she rose to her feet. “She was dead,” she protested weakly. “I saw her body. And the coroner confirmed it. Fingerprints, DNA. It all checked out.”

“All bought and paid for,” Darius replied. “You’d be amazed at how little the coroner charged us for the false identification. He had no idea how valuable she really was.”

“But why?” she asked, staring down at her mother, feeling out of body and disconcerted. The last two years she’d had to deal with the horror of walking in on her mother’s corpse. Only to find out now that it belonged to someone else entirely. “I mean, why go through all that trouble to fake her death?”

“The space-time continuum is a fragile thing,” Darius explained. “Your mother did die the first time around—she accidentally mixed up some pills and took too many of the wrong kind—the day after spending Christmas with you. Because of this, you were sent to live with your grandfather, where you bonded with the egg. We still needed that to happen, but we wanted to save your mother’s life this time around, just in case. So we went in a day early and replaced her with one our own—a Dracken woman who didn’t survive the trip back in time. We simply dressed her in your mother’s clothes and used her as a stand-in. Thus, the important threads of the timeline remained largely unchanged. We did unfortunately have to change the cause of death, seeing as keeping her face intact would have given the game away. But with her history of mental illness, it didn’t seem too farfetched to have her blow her head off.”

And Trinity had believed it. Believed her mother to be capable of such a horrible thing without even questioning it. What kind of daughter did that make her?

“Oh, Mom,” she whispered, reaching down to embrace the woman who’d given her life. She was cold and stiff, but Trinity clung to her all the same as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t have any idea!”

She thought back to all the resentment she’d allowed to build up inside of her over the last two years. Believing her mother had broken her promise. Had abandoned her on Christmas Eve forever.

But that had never been her mother’s intention. The Dracken had stolen the last day of her life. Ripping her from reality and imprisoning her all alone, in a dark lonely room—as backup in case her daughter didn’t meet their expectations. It was all too horrible, too much to even contemplate, and she felt guilty as hell for every bad thought she’d had over the last two years.

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” she babbled, burying her face in her mother’s lap, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry I ever accused you of letting me down.”

But her mother did not answer. And soon the guards arrived to take Trinity away.