by Mari Mancusi
She could be her Fire Kissed again.
“I don’t know,” her father said. “In truth, I may never be able to get this thing working again. But I promise you this, baby girl—I’m going to give it my best try.”
PART 2:
EMBER
Chapter Twelve
The Surface Lands—Year 190 Post-Scorch
What a waste. What a horrible waste.
Caleb grimaced as the ’vator’s doors slid open, and he stepped out into the middle of the carnage. The grounds that had once housed a small, experimental garden had now been mutilated into nothing more than a blood-soaked graveyard. The Council had, once again, done its worst, stealing the lives of five magnificent dragons and abandoning their corpses to rot out in the hot sun.
Stomach roiling, he forced himself to pull out his transcriber in order to properly catalog each beast. One of his jobs as a member of the Dracken was to keep a ledger of Council kills. This ledger was then compared to the roster of known dragons some of the other Dracken had been compiling. Ultimately, Darius hoped to complete a sort of dragon census to help him study the habits and family trees of the mighty beasts.
Caleb leaned down to examine the foot of one of the saffron-colored corpses nearby. He groaned as he recognized the Dracken brand, burned into the dragon’s right paw. Bastards. He sighed, releasing the leg and then turning back to his transcriber, looking up the dragon’s number on his list.
He found it almost immediately. Daisy. It had been Daisy. One of the study dragons and a Pureblood to boot, now nothing more than a black, bloody stain on the landscape. Caleb scowled, now angrier than ever. Killing hybrids he could understand. But this indiscriminate slaughter without even doing a blood check first—this was too much.
He’d always liked Daisy. She was silly, greedy, goofy—like his own dragon, Trinity, had been before she’d needlessly been slaughtered as well. He remembered watching Daisy flip through the sky, as fond of barrel rolls as she was of barrels of food. Darius was not going to be pleased that the Council had gotten one of his own this time.
God, what a flecking waste. It made him sick to his stomach. How could these Dragon Hunters live with themselves? How could everyone laud them as heroes? They were clearly nothing more than mass murderers.
“Better to murder than be murdered, don’t you think?”
Caleb jerked his head at the sound of the voice. Lost in his revulsion, he hadn’t realized someone had come up behind him. No, not just someone. Connor himself. The biggest murderer of them all. Having the nerve to jack into his thoughts without even asking permission.
“Is that your new catchphrase?” he sneered, turning around to take in his brother’s crisp Academy uniform, glistening with a multitude of medals. One medal for each murder. He wondered, not for the first time, which shiny pin Connor had received for killing his dragon. His stomach clenched again.
“It’s just a fact,” Connor said simply. “The dragons know they’re not allowed to come within five miles of the Sector. If we hadn’t killed them, who knows the damage they could have done?”
“They were probably coming for the cows,” Caleb protested. “They’re starving. There’s not a lot left to eat on the Surface.”
“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” Connor shot back. “They burned all the life off the earth. What did they expect would happen?”
Caleb rolled his eyes. Here we go again. “Seriously, Connor, do you ever have even a single original thought in your head?” he demanded. “Or is too stuffed with Council propaganda?”
“I should ask you the same thing about your little Dracken cult,” his twin shot back without missing a beat. “I mean, really, Caleb. Why on earth would anyone want to save these hideous beasts?” He kicked Daisy’s helpless corpse with his heavy boot. “They’ve destroyed our world. They’ve made us prisoners underground.” He paused, pursing his lips. “They killed our own father, Caleb.”
“Yeah, well, who could blame them?” Caleb ground out, the fury rising inside of him. “They didn’t ask to be brought back here. They didn’t ask to be genetically manipulated and cloned and made into Frankenstein monster dragons.” He looked down at poor, pitiful Daisy, his heart aching. “Maybe if we had respected them. Maybe if we hadn’t been so greedy. Maybe if we had been nice to them—maybe things would have turned out a lot differently.”
Connor sighed. “Look, I know it’s a bad situation,” he said. “And hell, if I could go back two hundred years and stop the scientists from creating those first hybrids, I would. But that’s impossible. Which means we have no choice but to live in the world as it is. And these dragons? They’re violent and cruel. And they’re out to destroy mankind.” He looked at Caleb and gave a small shrug. “And if it’s kill or be killed? Well, I know what choice I’ll make every time.”
Caleb opened his mouth to answer, then sighed, staring down at the ground. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his brother did have a point. The Dracken had been working to try to tame dragons and bring them into the fold for years now. And while the pure-blooded dragons—the ones directly descended from Emberlyn herself—gladly bonded with guardians and accepted man’s hospitality, those with genetically altered genes—the hybrids, as they were called—always ended up turning on them by the time they hit puberty. No matter what the Dracken tried to do.
To make matters worse, the hybrids matured faster. They laid more eggs. They grew stronger and larger than their pure dragon brothers and sisters. And according to the Dracken census, if something wasn’t done soon, they would rise to dominance. And the true dragons—the ones with the powers to save mankind—would die out all together.
Which would happen even quicker if the Council kept refusing to differentiate when it came to their kill orders. Despite what the Dracken had tried to show with their research studies, the Council—and most of the stupid sheep below—insisted that the only good dragon was a dead dragon.
And now, here were five more dead dragons.
Connor was right about one thing. This couldn’t go on much longer. Something had to be done.
But what?
Chapter Thirteen
Present Day—One Month Later
Scarlet slipped out of bed quietly, so as not to wake the others, then headed out of the dorm and through the terminal, making her way to Caleb’s sickroom. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her, then approached his bed. For a moment, she just stood, watching him lie there, as if he were a corpse. His pallor was still deathly pale. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head. She looked down at the small vial she clutched in her hands.
Would this really work?
She’d been biding her time for nearly a month now, waiting for one of the baby dragons to grow large enough to harvest the healing blood from their soft scale. Each day, she’d wake up petrified that someone had discovered the maintenance shack at the far end of the property where she’d stashed her brood. But no one ever had. Nor had anyone voiced concern about how much food she was “eating” each night for dinner or where she disappeared to afterward. She supposed they were all too wrapped up in their great dragon social media experiment to pay her any mind.
From what she could tell, Emmy was becoming quite a superstar online, with thousands of fans flocking to her daily broadcasts. Scarlet wondered what the dragon herself thought of the show—was she enjoying her newfound fame, or was she still depressed? She’d considered checking up on her once but then decided against it. After all, the last thing she needed was for Emmy to overhear a stray thought in her head and learn she hadn’t exactly followed orders.
At times, she’d wondered if she should leave the camp, taking Zoe and Zavier with her. But where would she go? How would she find food? And most importantly, how could she walk away and leave Caleb behind?
She looked down at him now. It was funny; she’d only known him a few short days before he�
��d entered this Nether coma, yet she felt closer to him than anyone else here. Maybe it was from the time she’d spent as a prisoner in the government lab. She’d thought a lot about Caleb back then, while stuck in her dark cell for endless hours with nothing to do. In fact, some days, when things got really bad, the memory of his lips brushing against her own, his hands tangled in her hair, was all she had left to help her get out of bed. To keep surviving—to not let them break her. Somehow, just knowing he was out there, waiting for her to come back to him—needing her to come back—gave her the strength to keep holding on until she could.
And now, here she was—the only person on Earth with the power to wake the sleeping prince.
On impulse, she leaned over his bedside, pressing her lips softly against his mouth, a silly attempt to wake him on her own. But of course, that was just a fairy tale. And thanks to Emmy’s children, she had a much more realistic remedy.
She looked down at the vial. Even after a month, Zavier’s scale was still tiny, and it didn’t contain much blood. Hopefully it was enough to do the job. Otherwise, she’d have to wait until the dragon grew even bigger for her to try again. And she didn’t know how much time Caleb had left…if he had any left at all.
With trembling hands, she pried open his mouth, then put the vial to his lips. The blood dripped down, coating his tongue in a black oil-like substance. She waited for a moment, not exactly sure how this was all supposed to work, then pulled the vial away and closed his mouth, her pulse skittering madly as she waited for a reaction. Any reaction.
At first, there was nothing. Caleb’s eyes remained closed. His skin still white as snow. His arms limp at his side. Only his chest, slowly rising and falling in silent rhythm, gave her any indication he was even alive at all.
Still, she waited, trying to ignore the ache of doubt that began to creep into her bones. Was she too late? Was there just not enough blood? Was dragon’s blood unable to cure this kind of thing after all?
“Please, Bad Seed,” she begged. She laid a hand over his. “Come back to me.”
Caleb didn’t move.
She slumped into the folding chair next to him, scrubbing her face with her hands, her stomach wrenching with frustration. Come on, she begged him silently. Please wake up. You have to wake up.
And then, suddenly, his mouth twitched.
Scarlet leapt to her feet, pulse skyrocketing. Had that really just happened? Or had her desperate mind only imagined it?
But no. He was still moving. His eyes were fluttering. His nose was wiggling. And finally, a small, wet burp escaped his mouth—the most disgustingly beautiful sound Scarlet had ever heard in her life. She dropped back down to the chair, grabbing his hand in hers and squeezing it tight, her eyes glued to his face.
“Come on!” she whispered. “Come back to me! You can do it! I know you can!”
She watched, breathless, as his eyes lifted to half-mast, the pupils rolling around underneath, still unfocused and weak. But then they somehow managed to lock onto her face. His mouth quirked to a weak, cocky smile. The very same smile whose memory had kept her alive on those darkest days was now blasting fully on her in real life. It felt like the very sun.
“Buttercup,” he gurgled, his voice hoarse. “Where have you been all my life?”
Oh my God. She’d done it. She’d really done it!
She squealed, then bit her lip to quiet herself, not wanting to wake the others. They could find out soon enough that Caleb was back among the living. Right now, she wanted him all to herself. In fact, it was all she could do not to hug the life out of him and cover his face with kisses.
But he was weak. Disoriented. She didn’t want to overwhelm him. So she kept herself firmly glued to her chair, though she didn’t let go of his hand.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, peering down at him more critically now.
“Like I’ve been run over by a grumpy dragon,” he admitted, reaching up to rub his forehead with his free hand. “How long have I been out?”
“Just over nine months.”
His blue eyes clouded with horror. “Nine months?” He shook his head, and she could see his hard swallow. “Why, I’ve missed the whole party.”
“You do have a bit of catching up to do,” she admitted. “But it’s okay. Everything’s okay. We’re all back together. We’ve rescued Emmy from the government lab. She’s growing stronger every day. In fact, it’s pretty much happily ever after around here these days.” She smiled down at him. “Even more so now that we have you back.”
As she spoke the words, her mind flashed to the baby dragons, and she wondered if she should tell him about them. He of all people would understand, right? He would want to protect them too, despite what the others thought. A thrill spun down her spine. Finally, she’d have a partner in crime. She’d no longer have to bear the burden on her own. And maybe, with him on her side, they could convince the others that these dragons weren’t something to fear.
“Oh, Caleb,” she breathed. “I’ve really—”
“And Trinity?” he broke in before she could finish. “Is she here too? Did she find her father? Was he able to help?”
Scarlet frowned. “Uh, yeah. She’s here. And her father’s here too. I’m not sure what you mean about him helping though. I mean, he helps out in the restaurant a lot. And he’s always tinkering in his lab, though I don’t really know what he’s up to with—”
“Has she been by to see me?” he interrupted. His hopeful look sent worry fluttering through her stomach. She watched as he glanced around the room, as if he expected Trinity to be hovering somewhere in the shadows.
What about me? she wanted to ask. Didn’t you miss me like I missed you? But the words seemed to stick in her throat.
“Sure, she’s come by,” she managed to say, trying to push down the hurt welling in her throat. “She’s been pretty busy though. They’ve got this whole social media campaign they’re working on to let people know about Emmy.” She forced a laugh. “You know Trinity when it comes to that dragon. Nothing else seems to matter.”
She swallowed hard, distressed by the disappointment she saw clearly in Caleb’s eyes. Suddenly, a horrible thought struck her. What if he didn’t remember his time in the Nether? What if the dragon’s blood had wiped out the whole trip in his mind? What if he didn’t remember their kiss—her confessions—all the promises they’d made to one another? What if all of that lived in Scarlet’s memory alone?
She let out a small moan. All this time, she’d been holding on. The idea of their reunion keeping her going through the darkest days. What if it was nothing more than a fantasy?
“Can I ask you a favor?” Caleb broke in, interrupting her tormented thoughts.
Hope rose inside of her again. “Of course! Anything! Anything at all!”
He gave her a weak smile. “Would you go find Trinity and ask her to come see me? I don’t think I can master the whole getting out of bed thing quite yet.”
For a moment, Scarlet couldn’t speak, the lump in her throat so large it threatened to choke her. Instead, she managed a small nod of her head. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll…go find her now.”
Caleb smiled at her—the very same smile that had, only minutes before, warmed her like the sun. Now it made her blood run cold.
“Thanks, Buttercup,” he said, resting his head back on the pillow. “I appreciate it. It’s good to see you again, by the way. I’m glad you’re still Team Dragon.”
She rose to her feet so quickly she knocked over the folding chair. It crashed to the ground with a large bang, and her face burned as she reached down to right it again.
When she rose, she found Caleb peering at her intently. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she spit out with more venom than she’d meant to. She was biting her lower lip so hard at this point she was certain she would draw blood. “You rest
. I’ll get…Trinity…for you.” The name tasted like sawdust in her mouth.
Tell him you cured him! a voice inside of her begged. Tell him it was all you! That he owes you his life!
But she kept her mouth closed, her lips sealed. Because, she realized, it didn’t matter in the end. After all, she wasn’t in need of his gratitude; she wanted much more than that. And if he didn’t feel about her how she felt about him, well, she wasn’t about to guilt-trip him into doing so.
Besides, that would be compromising her dragons’ safety. After all, what if she told him and he went and told Trinity? Trinity would probably go tell Connor and maybe even Emmy. And then they’d all want to make double sure that the sweet baby dragons “destined to destroy the world” had been destroyed themselves.
She couldn’t let that happen. She’d made a promise to keep them safe, and nothing—not even Caleb’s approval—could make her break that promise.
After all, who needed a boyfriend when you had your very own dragons?
Chapter Fourteen
“Whoo-hoo, Ems! Way to go!”
Trinity whooped and cheered as Emmy shot across the hangar, body outstretched and wings close to her side. The dragon tucked her head, executing a perfect barrel roll, then dropped back down to the ground, sticking the landing like a pro. Turning back to Trinity—and Luke, who was filming the whole thing—she did a showy little bow.
“That’s my girl!” Trinity cried, clapping her hands together.
“That’s definitely going in tomorrow’s show,” Luke added, giving her a fist bump. “Now, should we do some fan mail before we go to bed?”
Emmy nodded, padding over to the small studio they’d set up at the end of the hangar, on the opposite side of her bedroom. Trinity gathered up the computer printouts off the table and walked over to sit down beside her.
The social media campaign had gotten off to a slow start. But viewership had skyrocketed about a week ago, after BuzzFeed had done a “13 Things to Love about Emberlyn” feature that had gone viral. Now the dragon was well on her way to becoming an Internet sensation, just as they’d hoped. Natasha had even set up an official Team Dragon fan club, and applications were coming in by the hundreds each day.