by Mari Mancusi
She scanned the small room, desperate for an escape route, but realized there was no window and she was, for all intents and purposes, trapped. Outside, she heard the door bell’s jangle; Caleb was now in the building. She slipped into the far stall and yanked the door shut behind her, sitting on the toilet with her feet up, trying to still her erratic pulse.
Maybe he was just here to order a cup of coffee to go.
Yeah, right.
A moment later, the bathroom door burst open. “Trinity!” he called. “Get out here now!” She heard a crash and realized he’d kicked open door number one. Followed quickly by door number two. How many stalls were there in this bathroom? Three? Four?
“I know you’re in here!”
BANG! Door number three. She stifled a squeak of fear, not knowing why she bothered. He’d find her in a—
BANG! The door burst inward and she found herself face-to-face with her enemy. He gave her a disappointed look. “You’re really going to have to learn at some point that I’m not the bad guy,” he muttered as he grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her off the toilet seat. She struggled in protest until he pulled out a small pistol that looked just like Connor’s laser one—and pressed it against her back. Her mind flashed to the man at the museum, his head exploding in a burst of green goo, and she reluctantly stopped fighting.
“That’s better,” he soothed. “Now let’s go.” He gestured toward the bathroom door. “Ladies first.”
Somehow, some way, she managed to force her feet to cooperate and shuffle forward toward the bathroom’s exit. When she stepped back into the diner, the pay phone started ringing. She glanced at it longingly. Caitlin…
Caleb stiffened, turning to Trin, a horrified look of realization on his face.
“You didn’t,” he whispered accusingly.
“What if I did?” she demanded, somehow finding her voice. “Does that spoil your little kidnapping plan?” She forced herself not to look over at the phone, even though every fiber in her being wanted to dive across the room to answer it. She realized all the other diners had cleared out, probably after seeing Caleb’s gun, and only Mary remained, a frightened but determined look on her face. The waitress started toward Caleb.
“Look here, you leave that girl alone!” she cried in a voice bordering on hysteria. Trin’s eyes misted as the waitress came to her defense. At the same time she wished the woman would just turn and run out the front door—out of danger.
“You don’t understand,” Caleb cried, sounding exasperated. “I’m trying to save her life!”
Blue lights flashed through the diner’s windows as two cop cars whipped into the parking lot. Caleb let out a frustrated breath. “You really are determined to make my job as difficult as possible, aren’t you?” he groaned, shaking his head. He turned to Mary. “Is there a back door?”
“Like I’d tell you!” she shot back as the police officers entered through the front. The bells jingled merrily, the sound jarring with the current situation.
“Mary, what seems to be the—”
Before they could finish their question, Caleb had the waitress by the ponytail, yanking her back. Mary screamed in protest as he dragged her in front of Trin, his laser gun pressed against her head. “Get back!” he screamed at the cops, who were now fumbling uselessly for their own weapons. “Drop your guns. On the floor. Or I’ll kill her. I swear to God!”
The small-town cops, looking confused and frightened, obliged, dropping their firearms and crawling down to the diner’s black and white tiled floor.
“Please don’t kill me,” Mary squeaked. “I have kids at home. Three little girls.”
“Let her go!” Trin added, horrified by the fact she’d managed to drag a poor innocent mother into this whole mess. “I’ll go with you. Whatever you want. Just let her go.”
He ignored her. “Just be a good girl,” Trin heard him whisper to Mary, “and lead us to the back door.” Raising his voice, he added, “Stay still and count to a hundred. Or I’ll kill her!”
As the cops began to count, the three of them backed through the kitchen and out the rear door. Trinity looked around, wondering if she should make a run for it. But Caleb still had the gun pinned on Mary, and she wasn’t about to let the kindly waitress get hurt or killed on her account.
“Let her go!” she tried again instead, turning to Caleb with pleading eyes. “I’m the one you want, not her.”
To her surprise, he nodded, releasing Mary. The waitress fell to the ground, crying out as her bare knees scraped against concrete.
“I’m sorry,” Caleb said, looking surprisingly remorseful as he held out a hand to help the waitress to her feet. Mary refused his assistance, shooting him a death look as she scrambled up on her own. Her legs were cut and bleeding, her hair had come loose from its ponytail. Caleb sighed and dropped his hand. “Fine. Have it your way,” he said with a shrug. Then he turned to Trinity, his face hard and cold.
“Now, if you’re done messing around,” he said, “we’re late for our date with the Dracken.”
Chapter Eighteen
“You need to turn left at that stop sign up ahead,” Caleb instructed from the passenger seat, after consulting his transcriber. “We’ll be taking that road for the next hour or two.”
Trinity put on her blinker, shifting in an attempt to get comfortable as the cracked vinyl seats pinched at her thighs. Caleb had stolen the old Ford pickup from the driveway of a darkened house near the diner and insisted she drive, making her wonder if cars were as extinct as airplanes in a post-dragon-apocalypse world. Though he had seemed pretty skilled on his motorcycle…
“And slow down!” he added, cradling the egg protectively in his arms as she stepped on the gas.
Damn. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t register her sudden burst of speed—a desperate attempt to get a traffic cop to notice them and pull them over. She half wondered if she should just plow into the SUV ahead of her—or slam into a guardrail even—giving herself a chance to make a run for it. That sort of thing always worked great in the movies. But in real life, she feared, it might just land her with a broken leg…or worse.
“It probably would,” Caleb agreed.
Startled, she snapped her head in his direction. “What?”
“Crashing the car like that. It’d probably kill you. Or at least hurt really bad. Definitely not a good idea.”
She turned back to the road, gritting her teeth. “How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked finally, against her better judgment. She didn’t want to engage him in another conversation, listen to his lies about “rescuing her” at gunpoint.
He looked surprised at the question. “I have the gift,” he replied as if it were the most obvious explanation ever.
“The gift?” she repeated. “What gift?”
“The gift,” he emphasized. “The one that gives us the spark.”
“Yeah. Not really clearing things up.”
Caleb sighed. “Didn’t my brother tell you anything?” he muttered, shaking his head. Then he turned to her. “There are certain people in this world who are born with something special inside of them, a certain energy. We call it the spark. Those who are born with this spark can do amazing things. Some can sense emotion. Some can hear other people’s thoughts. A few can go one step further and actually bend people’s wills. They call that pushing. My brother can push. Which is one reason you have to be careful around him. You never know what he might try to get you to believe.”
He paused, glancing over at her for her reaction, then continued, “Think about it. How else would I have been able to find you last night? Or at the diner this morning? I simply followed your fear and it led me straight to you.”
Her hackles rose at the idea. The implication that it was somehow her fault—her weakness—that allowed her to be caught.
“Okay, fine,” she snarled. “If you can read my mind, what am I thinking right now?”
Caleb chuckled. “That you want to kill me. T
hough, to be fair, I don’t need to read your mind for that. It’s written all over your face.”
She groaned, forcing her focus back on the road. She wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous. That the only gift he had mastered was that of being a total dick. Yet, reluctantly, she had to admit he had known exactly what she’d been thinking. And he had found her—in the middle of nowhere. Both last night and just now.
And then there was Connor, his own twin. She thought about how he’d grabbed her back at the barn. She’d heard his thoughts, echoing through her head, though he’d never moved his lips. And when he’d finished, she’d wanted to do exactly what he’d told her to. Had that been this pushing thing Caleb was talking about?
She attempted to empty herself of thoughts, concentrating only on the road ahead, while Caleb continued to stare at her with piercing eyes from the passenger seat. His face was identical to his twin’s, she realized, yet at the same time so different. How could she have not noticed it before? Whereas Connor’s eyes were clear blue, the color of the sky on a cloudless day, Caleb’s had flecks of gold and green, swirling about in a storm of color.
Connor. Where was he now? What was he doing? Did he have her grandpa with him? Was he trying to find her, wanting to make sure she was okay? Her heart panged as she remembered what must have been his shadow at her bedroom window, his desperate voice calling out her name just as Caleb stole her away. Did he know she’d been tricked? That his brother had assumed his identity? Or would he believe she’d left of her own free will, the evil dragon convincing her to join up with his worst enemy?
No, she decided. Connor would know. He’d know that she’d never take off on him willingly, leaving him and her grandpa behind. Not after what they’d been through—after what they’d shared. Her lips twitched involuntarily, still branded by his kiss. She barely knew the guy and yet there was something about him. Something…protective. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t rest until he was sure she was safe.
“I have to say, you think pretty highly of a guy who wants to murder you,” Caleb pointed out absently, turning to look out the passenger side window. His voice was calm, emotionless, but his eyes had darkened to angry thunderclouds.
“Excuse me?”
“Connor,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a dimwitted child. “Your big knight in shining dragon scale. He would have killed you if I’d left you there.”
“Oh, right,” she retorted tartly. Seriously, why did she keep feeling the need to encourage his lies? “He wanted to kill me. Well, then why didn’t he? He had plenty of chances and, at the moment, I still seem to be pretty much alive, don’t you think?”
“That’s only because your bond is not yet complete,” Caleb replied evenly. “No offense, princess, but you’re not worth killing until your death can bring down a dragon.”
What? Her lips parted in surprise.
“Oh dear,” he cried, catching her expression. His mouth twisted. “Could it be that my brother forgot to mention that pesky little detail when he was rescuing you?”
“What are you talking about?” Trinity demanded, getting annoyed. “Whatever it is, just come out and say it.”
“Sure.” He shrugged dismissively. “When you first touched Emmy back at the museum, a bond began to build between you.”
She gritted her teeth. “I know that. Get to the part where Connor’s trying to kill me.”
“Patience, princess.” Caleb’s fingers danced lazily over the egg, still swaddled in his lap. “The great mysteries of the universe take time to untangle.”
“I’ll be happy to untangle you if you don’t start explaining.”
Caleb snorted. “It’s simple, really. Once Emmy breaks free of her shell, the bond between you will be complete. Meaning you’ll share a common life force. We call it Fire Kissed where I come from and it’s a rare thing indeed.” He looked down at the egg. “You should consider yourself lucky—it’s a great honor to be chosen by a queen.”
Trinity found herself glancing over at the egg, a shiver tripping down her spine. Emmy’s words came whispering back at her.
We are destined…
“In any case, it’s really tough to kill a queen dragon once she’s hatched,” Caleb continued in an easy tone, “especially with your current primitive technology. It would be much easier, let’s say, for a Hunter to go after its partner instead—a weak little human with a fragile mortal coil. Not so difficult to kill.” He gave her a winning smile. “Does that answer your question?”
Trinity found she couldn’t reply, the implications of his words making her blood run cold. As much as she wanted to accuse him of lying, the story made a weird kind of sense. After all, why else would Connor have been so bound and determined to keep her around, even when she’d tried to push him away? Could she really have been his insurance policy all along—in case he failed in his mission to destroy the egg?
“Look, I don’t mean to sound harsh,” Caleb added, his tone softening. She could feel his pity but refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. “But why do you think my brother wanted you tagging along on his mission to save the world? So he could qualify for the two-for-one special at the local truck-stop cafe?”
She scowled, wishing he’d stop talking. She didn’t want to hear anymore—not now that the doubts had already seeded themselves in her mind. Could Connor really be capable of such deception? Luring her in, making her feel protected and safe—all the while ready to cut her down if things didn’t go to plan? The idea hurt more than she wanted to admit.
We have to do whatever it takes, he had said, even if it means sacrificing ourselves.
Had he been planning to sacrifice her as well?
Her troubled thoughts were interrupted as blue lights flashed in her rearview mirror. “Crap,” she swore under her breath, making a move to pull over. “A cop.” It was strange—just a few minutes ago, she’d been practically begging for a rescue. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“No!” Caleb cried, grabbing the steering wheel and yanking her back on the road. “We can’t stop!”
“But we have to,” she argued. “There’s no way we can outrun a cop in this hunk of junk.” She’d been flooring it just to reach fifty-five. She started to pull over again.
“Fine,” Caleb replied, reaching for his gun.
“Wait!” She jerked the truck back onto the road. “What are you going to do?”
“Whatever I have to to keep you and Emmy safe.”
“But you can’t just kill him!” she protested. “He’s innocent.”
“Trinity, no offense, but aren’t you on the run from the law? What do you think Mr. Innocent will do when he discovers we’re not exactly the poster children for innocence ourselves?”
Trinity’s face fell, knowing he was right. There was no way the cop was going to just let them go once he checked the license and registration. There was sure to be an APB on them from the diner incident, and maybe a stolen car report to boot. And she didn’t even want to think about the penalties that might be involved in basically assaulting two Homeland Security agents…
But she couldn’t just let Caleb kill him.
Think! she berated herself as she slowed down and guided the truck to the shoulder of the road. The policeman pulled in behind her, stopping about twenty feet back. There has to be another way.
Caleb fingered his gun.
“Put it in the glove box!” she hissed, pointing to the dashboard compartment, a plan forming in her mind. A trick she’d seen her mother do, back when she still had command of her senses. “And follow my lead, okay?”
Caleb hesitated. “I don’t know…”
The police car door opened.
“Just please, do it!” she begged.
“Fine.” Caleb stuffed the gun in the glove box. “We’ll do it your way. But if things start to go wrong, I’m going to shoot.” He dropped the egg between his legs and shielded it with his jacket.
Relieved, Trinity placed her hands on the steering whe
el, in the proper ten and two position, just as she’d been instructed in driver’s ed, her heart beating a mile a minute and her palms damp with sweat. From her mirror, she watched the policeman get out of his car and amble toward them.
“He doesn’t have his gun drawn,” she said quietly. “That means he doesn’t know the truck is stolen.”
Yet.
Caleb reached into his pocket and slid a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes, hiding the ugly bruise she’d given him. A moment later, the officer knocked on her window and she rolled it down, looking up at him with her best blinding smile.
“What seems to be the trouble, Officer?” she asked brightly, trying to conceal the tremble in her voice.
“Ma’am, do you know you’re driving with a taillight out?” the officer asked. He was young—maybe a year out of the academy—tall, and well-built.
“Is it?” she cried, feigning surprise. Inside, she cursed Caleb for picking such a hunk of junk as their getaway vehicle. “I had no idea. This is my uncle’s truck. He never fixes anything.” She considered batting her eyelashes at the cop but decided it would be overkill.
Believe me! she begged. Please believe me!
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Caleb shoot her a startled look, though she had no idea why. A shimmer of nausea fluttered in her stomach. She prayed he’d keep his promise to stay quiet.
The policeman’s frown lifted. “I have an uncle just like that,” he told her, shaking his head. “His guest toilet’s been out of service for ten years if it was a day. He’s always going on about fixin’ it. But it never seems to happen.”
“That must be really fun at Christmas,” she joked, giving him a forced laugh. She realized her hands were shaking and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Speaking of, Merry Christmas!”