by Julie Kagawa
“You’re about two hundred yards from the fence.” Wes’s voice buzzed in my ear, courtesy of the wire I was wearing. Part of the package I’d picked up in L.A. “No security cameras as far as I can tell, but be careful.”
“Got it.”
We reached the perimeter fence, nothing heavy duty or unusual, just simple chain link topped with barbed wire. Signs reading Private Property and Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted hung from the links every thirty or so feet, but there was nothing to indicate that a heavily armed military compound lay beyond. St. George was nearly as good as Talon when it came to hiding in plain sight, as private armies were sort of frowned on by the United States government. The bases where the soldiers were housed used isolation and misdirection to stay off the radar of those that might take issue with a large number of armed fanatics squatting on US soil.
Good news for us: this base was counting on its remoteness to deter unwanted visitors, so the fence wasn’t well patrolled. Bad news for us: if they did start shooting, no one would ever hear it.
Ember crouched beside me, peering through the barrier. We’d approached the base from the north, giving the fence a wide berth as we circled around, and I could see a cluster of squat buildings about a thousand yards beyond the fence. The space between was dark and shadowy, but terrifyingly flat and open.
No turning back now.
Pulling out my wire cutters, I began snipping through the links, silent and methodical. Oddly enough, the familiar task helped calm my nerves; how many times had I done this before? Ember pressed close, her shoulder brushing mine, and my pulse leaped at the contact, but I didn’t stop until I’d cut a line just big enough for us to slip through.
“Stay close,” I murmured, replacing the cutters. “Remember, don’t do anything until I give the word.”
She nodded. Reaching down, I peeled back the steel curtain, motioned her through, then slipped in behind her. As we passed through, the fence gave a soft, metallic slither, echoing the chill running up my spine.
Okay, here we were, on St. George soil. Still in a crouch, I scanned the layout of the base, noting buildings, lights, how far the shadows extended. Ember waited beside me, patient and motionless, green eyes shining with resolve. I sensed no fear from her, only stubborn determination, a will to see this through no matter what, and squashed the flicker of both dread and pride.
“We’re in,” I whispered to Wes.
“All right.” I imagined furious typing on the other end. “Hang on, I’m trying to find the security system…there we go.” More silence followed, as Ember and I huddled at the fence line, gazing around warily. “Okay,” Wes muttered at last. “Looks like only headquarters and the armory actually have cameras. So you’re going to have to get inside before I can walk you through.”
“Got it,” I muttered back. “I’ll let you know when we’re in. Riley out.”
Staying low, we scurried across the open ground toward the buildings, keeping to where the shadows were thickest. It being the very dead of night, the compound was quiet; most soldiers were asleep, probably having to be up in a couple hours. I did spot a couple guards near the perimeter gate, but other than that the yard was deserted.
“It’s so quiet,” Ember whispered as we crouched behind a Hummer, maybe a hundred yards from the first set of buildings. “Just like you said. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yeah, but let’s not get cocky.” I nodded at the roof of the largest structure, straight ahead behind a clump of smaller buildings. “If this isn’t exciting enough for you, wait till we get inside. All it takes is for one alarm to go off, and the entire base will swarm out like we poked a stick down an ant nest. So stay on your toes, Firebrand. We’re not out of here yet.”
Her eyes flashed, but she nodded. We continued across the yard in silence, even more wary for hidden dangers and sudden patrols. The base remained quiet and still, but I stayed on high alert. Ember might think this was a walk in the park, but I knew how quickly things could turn. And if they did turn, our chances of getting out were slim to zilch.
As we drew close to the first row of buildings, creeping along the outer wall, the door in front of us swung open. Biting back a curse, I dived behind a corner, pressing myself against the wall, as Ember did the same. I felt the heat of her body against mine and squashed the impatient riling of my dragon as a pair humans paused at the bottom of the steps, talking in low, rough voices.
“Damn kitchen duty,” one growled, sounding sullen. “Of course, I’d have to pull it today. You going to the execution?”
“I dunno,” the other replied as Ember stiffened beside me. “It seems…kinda wrong, you know? I saw him in the South American raid, when he charged that damn adult lizard by himself. Kid’s completely fearless.”
“He’s a dragonlover.” The other soldier’s voice was cutting. “Did you not hear what he said at his trial? I personally can’t wait to see his guts sprayed all over the ground. Better than he deserves, if you ask me.”
They walked on, arguing now, their voices fading into the darkness. When they were gone, I blew out a quiet breath, slumping against the wall, then glanced at Ember.
Her face was white with horror and rage, her eyes glowing a bright, furious emerald in the shadows. Like she might Shift, here and now, and tear those two soldiers to pieces. Quickly, I put a hand on her arm, feeling it shake under my fingers, and leaned close. “Easy, Firebrand,” I whispered as my dragon tried pushing its way to the surface again. I shoved it back. “This is why we’re here. He’s not dead yet.”
Though that was the confirmation I needed. They were going to execute the soldier today, probably as soon as it was light outside. Not that I cared—I’d be more than happy if another St. George bastard kicked it—but that didn’t give us a lot of time to work with. If we were going to get him out, it had to be now. But Ember’s reaction to the news sent a flare of anger through my veins. Why did she care about this kid so much? He was just a human and, more important, he was St. George. I remembered the way she’d looked at him, the way she had danced with him, and my anger grew. Ember was a dragon; she had no business getting involved with a human. Once we rescued this bastard and were far enough from St. George that I could breathe again, I would show her exactly what it meant to be a dragon.
Ember took a deep breath and nodded. Carefully, we eased around the buildings, hugging the walls and shadows, inching steadily toward the large, two-story building near the center. We avoided the brightly lit front, of course, sidling along the back wall until we reached a small metal door.
Ember started forward, but I grabbed her arm, motioning to the camera mounted over the steps. We shrank back into the shadows again as I spoke into the mic. “Wes, we’re at the back door of the main building. No guards, but there is a camera up top and it looks like you need a key card to get in.”
“Hang on.” Wes fell silent while Ember and I pressed against the wall and waited. “Okay,” he muttered after a few seconds. “Just give me a minute to see if I can turn it off.”
As he was talking, a body suddenly came around the corner. A human, wearing normal clothes, his dark hair buzzed close. He jerked, startled, and for a split second the three of us gaped at each other in shock, before his muscles tensed, mouth opening to shout a warning.
And Ember lunged in, a black blur across my vision, hitting the soldier in the jaw right below the ear. The human’s head snapped to the side, and he collapsed as if all his bones had turned into string, sprawling facedown in the sand.
I breathed in slowly, as Ember blinked and stared wide-eyed at the fallen soldier, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done, either. My arms were shaking, adrenaline coursing through my veins. It had happened so quickly; I hadn’t even had time to move before the soldier was unconscious. And my reflexes weren’t slow by any means.
“Firebrand,” I breathed,
and she looked at me, almost frightened. “That was…impressive. Where did you learn that?”
“I don’t know.” She backed away from the body, as if afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing something else. “I just… I saw him and…” Her eyes darkened, and she shook her head. “I don’t even remember what I did.”
Lilith’s training. This was what the Vipers taught their
students—how to be fast, how to be quick and lethal, and to strike without thinking. To recognize a threat and take it out. Immediately.
“Riley.” Wes’s voice crackled in my ear, wary and anxious. “You okay? What’s going on?”
I shook myself. “Nothing,” I told him, moving toward the fallen soldier. Ember had had to silence him, no question, but we still had to deal with him. Last thing we needed was for him to wake up and alert the rest of the base. “Small problem. It’s been dealt with,” I continued, kneeling beside the human and reaching into a compartment on my belt. “How’s the unlocking the door part coming along?”
“What are you doing, Riley?” Ember asked suddenly, watching me with wary green eyes. “You…you’re not going to kill him, are you?”
I shook my head, showing her the plastic zip ties I pulled from my belt, though I found it a little ironic. Had Ember been a full Viper, I doubted this human would be alive. And I wasn’t going to snap his neck or slit his throat while he lay there, helpless. Even though I hated the bastards, and would gladly blast him to cinders if I had to, I wasn’t a killer. Not like them.
Wes’s voice continued to buzz in my ear. “I can get the door open,” he said as I pulled the soldier’s arms behind him and zip-tied his wrists together. “But if I start blacking out cameras, they might get suspicious. Best I can give you is a thirty-second feedback loop, but you’ll have to get inside before the feed goes normal again. Think you can do that?”
I gagged the human with the roll of duct tape in my belt, then heaved the unconscious body over my shoulder. He hung like a sack of potatoes—a heavy, well-muscled sack of potatoes. “Do it,” I grunted, staggering toward a Dumpster we’d crouched behind a moment ago. “Just give us fifteen seconds. Ember, get the cover, will you?”
She scurried to the Dumpster and pushed up the lid, releasing the stench of old milk, rotting things and decay. I probably shouldn’t have felt so spitefully pleased as I dropped the body between reeking sacks of garbage and closed the top, but I did.
At the bottom of the steps, we hung back in the shadows, watching the door and the camera up top. “Gimme a moment,” Wes muttered as I drummed my fingers against my knee, feeling highly exposed. Another soldier could come waltzing around the corner anytime. We might’ve gotten lucky once; twice would be pushing it. “All right,” Wes finally said. “In ten seconds, the camera will go off and the door will unlock. Both will happen almost simultaneously, so you’ll have to get up there fast. Ready?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, feeling Ember tense beside me.
“Then…go! Now!”
I burst forward and raced up the steps, not daring to look at the camera peering down at me with its soulless black eye. My fingers closed on the handle just as there was a soft beep, and the light above the key-card slit turned green. Wrenching open the door, I motioned Ember inside, then ducked over the threshold myself. The door closed, shutting behind us with a soft click that seemed to echo down the long, brightly lit corridor ahead.
We were inside St. George HQ.
Now the real fun began.
Ember
I should probably be terrified.
I was pretty nervous. I was inside the St. George complex, surrounded by a whole army of dragonslayers who’d kill me without a second thought if they knew I was here. We still had to find Garret and somehow sneak him out without being discovered. And that close call with the soldier…my nerves were still singing, my hands shaking with adrenaline. I hadn’t even thought. I’d just seen him and…boom, he was on the ground. Would I do that again? Could I do that again, if I had to?
Was this what my trainer meant when she said I’d be an amazing Viper?
I pushed those thoughts away. Focus, Ember. Find Garret. That’s why we’re here.
“Where to now?” I whispered to Riley.
He huddled against the wall, speaking softly into his wire. “Wes, we’re in.” A few seconds passed with Riley listening to whatever the human was saying. Finally, he nodded. “Right,” he muttered. “Heading there now.”
“Did he find Garret?” I asked.
“No,” Riley answered, making my heart sink. “But he’s jacked into the security system and says that there’s a prison floor somewhere below us. If your human is scheduled for execution in a couple hours, that’s where he’s going to be.” Riley cast a wary look down the corridor. “There are still guards wandering about. Be careful.”
I nodded, and we started down the hall, which at this time of night was empty and deserted, but way too bright for comfort. Doors lined the corridor, most of them closed, but a few sat open, showing office-type rooms with desks and computers. I wondered what the soldiers and officers of St. George did when they weren’t killing dragons. It was hard to picture them doing normal things like checking email and IMing with friends.
As I passed yet another office door, a glint of metallic red caught my eye. And, for some reason, the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I paused just outside the door and peeked in, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. At first glance, it seemed like just another office, with standard office furniture: chairs, metal cabinet, giant desk in the center. Nothing strange or out of place…until I saw where that faint glimmer was coming from. For a second, I frowned, not knowing what I was looking at.
Then it hit me like a punch to the stomach, and bile surged up my throat, burning the inside of my mouth. I was frozen, unable to look away, unable to do anything but stare at what lay through the door.
On the wall above the desk, spanning nearly corner to corner, hung the hide of a small red dragon. I could see the long elegant neck, the lighter belly scales, the curved black talons still attached to the feet. Its scales were a darker red than mine, almost rust colored, and it had thin stripes down its back and tail. From its size, it had been a hatchling at the time of its death, my age or younger. At one time, this lifeless skin had been a dragon, just like me. And now…now it was a trophy decorating someone’s office.
I think I made a choked, strangled noise, because Riley was suddenly at my side, pulling me away. “Shit,” I heard him growl, almost yanking me from the door. “Don’t look, Firebrand. Don’t look at it. Come here.”
I was shaking. Riley dragged me into the hall and pulled me to him, holding me close. I buried my face in his shirt and squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn’t forget the horrible image seared into my brain. I could still see that limp, empty skin hanging on the wall, and I knew it would probably show up in my dreams.
Riley’s arms were around me, a shield between me and the rest of the world, a world that slaughtered teen dragons and nailed their hides to the wall. “You okay?” he whispered, his head bent close to mine. I wasn’t, but I nodded without looking up, and he blew out a breath. “Damn St. George,” he muttered, and his voice was slightly choked, too. “Murdering bastards. Damn them all.”
“I’m…okay,” I whispered, though I really, really wasn’t. It was like something out of a horror movie, seeing someone’s skin nailed to the killer’s wall. I wondered what they’d done with the rest of the dragon once they’d peeled its hide away, then immediately wished I hadn’t. “It’s all right,” I managed, drawing back, though his grip didn’t loosen. “Riley, I’m fine. It’s…”
A door squeaked somewhere in the mazelike hallway. We tensed as footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder every second. Riley jerked up with a whispered curse. As the steps drew closer, we ga
zed frantically around for a hiding place, but, other than the open door behind us, there was nothing.
Sorry, Firebrand, Riley mouthed, and yanked me into the room with the dead dragon. I bit my cheek, feeling tainted, as if the ghost of the murdered dragon lurked in the room with us, and I might glance up to see a pale, bloody figure watching accusingly from the wall.
Pressing into the corner beside the file cabinets, we held our breath as the footsteps came toward the room. I turned my face into Riley’s arm and clenched my jaw, trying not to look at the grisly symbol of death on the wall in front of us.
The footsteps passed the room without slowing down and continued down the corridor. Riley waited a long moment after they had faded away and silence fell once more, before finally leading us from the room. I kept my face down and my eyes half closed until we were out of the office, but I could still feel the dead dragon’s presence at my back.
“Damn St. George,” Riley hissed again, sounding almost as sick as I felt. “Depraved, murdering… Ugh. I’m sorry you had to see that, Firebrand.” He put a hand on my arm, steady and comforting. “Sure you want to keep going?” he asked. “It’s not too late to turn around. Do we keep looking for the human, or get the hell out of here?”
Frowning, I pulled back to look at him. He gazed back grimly. “This is the true face of St. George, Ember,” he said, and his voice was almost a challenge. “This is what they do. What they all do.” He nodded to the room behind us. “How many times do you think your soldier saw that hide hanging on the wall and thought nothing of it? It was just a skin, a trophy, not a living creature with thoughts and fears and dreams, like everyone else.” His eyes narrowed. “We’re not people to them, Firebrand. They don’t see us as anything but monsters. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but your human was raised to think exactly like them. He saw you in the same way he did that hide on the wall.”