by Julie Kagawa
“Whatever, man.” The human scratched his arm, glaring mulishly. “I know what I saw.”
I slid to the edge of the booth, my thoughts whirling. Two new hatchlings in the city. Were they mine? Wes hadn’t gotten any messages from our safe houses; could these two have escaped the recent Order strikes sweeping the country like the plague? I’d have to find them, and quickly, before St. George did.
Glancing at the human, who watched me with a greedy, hopeful expression, I held up a couple bills. “This was worth about twenty bucks, if that,” I said, watching his face fall. “But I’ll bump it to fifty if you can do two things. Stay away from that hotel, and don’t tell anyone about this, ever. Think you can do that?”
“Sure, man.” The junkie shrugged. “Whatever you want. No one else believed me, anyway.”
Alarm flickered, and I narrowed my eyes. “No one else? How many did you already tell?”
He cringed and scratched his neck. “No one, man,” he mumbled, not looking at me. “I didn’t tell no one.”
He was lying, but I couldn’t dwell on that now. Throwing the cash on the table, I rushed out and looked around for a taxi. If there were hatchlings in this city, rogues or runaways, I had to find them. Especially with St. George on the move, looking for me. They could easily get caught in the cross fire, and then it would be on my head if more innocent kids were murdered by the Order.
I had to get to them first. But as I stood there on the corner, cursing the taxis that cruised blissfully by, my phone buzzed, making me wince. The only people who had this number were Ember and Wes, and I’d told them to call only in emergencies.
Bracing myself, I pulled the phone out of my jeans and held it to my ear. “Ember?”
“Not quite, mate.” Wes’s voice was taut with anger and disgust. My gut churned, and I closed my eyes.
“What happened?”
“Your bloody hatchling,” was the peevish reply, “is what happened. I can’t find her, or the soldier, anywhere. You’d better get back here, Riley. Before something else blows up in our faces.”
Ember
You’re not supposed to be doing this.
I shoved the little voice aside as I descended the final escalator to the casino floor. It was truly another world down here: colored lights, ringing bells, an air of chaos and excitement that was lacking in my empty hotel room. Just what I needed to take my mind off…everything. I didn’t want to think about Talon or St. George. I didn’t want to remember Lilith’s training, or Dante’s betrayal. I didn’t want to think about Riley, or this sudden, crazy longing for the human standing beside me. I didn’t want to feel any of that. For a few hours, I wanted to turn off my mind and forget everything.
Garret, looking even less enthused as we stepped off the escalator onto the carpeted floor, did his normal crowd-scanning thing while talking to me. “Where to first?”
Good question. I’d never been to Vegas before, though I’d seen plenty of commercials and several movies that featured the famed City of Sin. They all showed Las Vegas in the same light: an almost mythical city where you could make your fortune in a few hours, or lose everything just as quickly. To our kind, that concept of instant wealth was intriguing, almost intoxicating. I might’ve been a hatchling, on the run from the organization and St. George, but I was still a dragon.
Spotting a row of bright slot machines along the wall, I smiled and tugged Garret’s sleeve. “This way,” I told him and started toward the twinkling lights. “That looks easy enough. Let’s see how fast you can lose a dollar to penny slots.”
* * *
Answer: about thirty seconds, the first ten spent figuring out how to make the machine work. Modern-day slot machines, I discovered, didn’t require you to pull the “arm” on their side down. In fact, the arm was just for decoration now. Everything was automatic, which meant you pressed a button and watched the pictures of apples and bells and sevens spin around for a few seconds before they came to a stop—always unmatched—and the screen announced that you had lost.
“Dammit,” I muttered, after I’d fed a third dollar into the side of the machine and lost it almost as quickly. “That was my last single.” I looked to the soldier, standing vigilant at my side like an alert guard dog. I didn’t think he’d taken his eyes off the crowds once. “Hey, Garret, you don’t happen to have any loose change weighing you down, do you?”
He gave me a split-second glance, the corner of his lip curling up as he went back to surveying the floor. “I thought dragons liked to hoard their wealth,” he said in a low voice. “Not throw it away at slot machines.”
“I’m investing.” I wrinkled my nose at him. “That last spin was almost triple sevens. I’m gonna get lucky any second now.”
“Right.”
I poked him in the ribs. He grunted. “Fine,” I muttered, digging in my shorts pocket. “Guess I’ll have to use that five instead.”
But before I could stick the money into the machine, Garret abruptly pushed away from the stool and took my hand. My pulse jumped, and a tingle shot up my arm, even as the soldier pulled me away from the aisle and into the crowds.
“Garret.” I almost had to jog to keep pace with him. “What are you doing?”
“Security,” he replied, and I looked back to see two men in uniforms pass the row we were just in. One of them caught my eye, frowned and angled toward us through the crowds. I squeaked.
“He’s following us!”
“Don’t panic.” Garret’s fingers tightened around mine. “And don’t act nervous. Just keep walking, and don’t look back.”
Squeezing his palm, I faced forward and followed his lead. We “fast-ambled” through the casino, weaving through crowds, circling around roulette tables, trying to appear nonchalant and move quickly at the same time. I didn’t dare look back, but Garret, without stopping or turning his head, somehow knew exactly where the guard was and what he was doing.
“Still following us,” he muttered as we strolled through a slot machine aisle hand in hand. “I think he’s waiting to see if we try to play a game. I believe that’s illegal here, right? You have to be twenty-one to gamble?”
“I am twenty-one,” I protested, and he shot me a quizzical glance. I raised my chin. “According to the ID of Miss Emily Gates, I turned twenty-one this January.”
His lip twitched. “Do you really want them checking up on that?”
“Um. No.”
“And do you really want Riley finding out that they checked up on that?”
I grimaced at him. “Right. Point taken. How do we ditch the rent-a-cop?”
“Just be ready to move when I do.”
I nodded. Garret made a meandering left turn down a slot machine aisle, but as soon as we were out of sight of the guard, lunged forward with a burst of speed. I scrambled to keep pace. He pulled us around another aisle, and I followed, clinging to his hand and biting my lip to keep a maniacal giggle from slipping out. We wove through a couple more slot machine corridors, melted back into the crowd and circled a noisy, cheering roulette table. Abruptly, Garret pulled me to the edge of the table, somehow squeezing us between a pair of half-drunk guys and their girlfriends. They jostled us, their attention solely on the spinning roulette wheel and the little ball bouncing within, but then Garret wrapped his arms around me from behind and leaned in close, and I forgot about everything else.
“Keep your head down,” he whispered, his voice low in my ear. “The guard is still following, but he’s lost sight of us now. Don’t make eye contact, and when he passes, we go back the other way and lose him for good.”
“Got it.” I held my breath, keeping my eyes on the table but hyperaware of Garret’s arms around my stomach, holding me against him. I could feel his breath, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the taut coil of muscle in his arms.
After a tense
, yet still far too short moment, Garret pulled away, looking back over his shoulder. “Clear,” he muttered, as I risked a glance in the direction he was facing. The guard was moving away from us, following the crowds as they ambled through the casino. I couldn’t see his face, but from the way he was turning his head from side to side, he was still looking for us. I let out a breath and started to relax.
But then, he turned and came back our way. With a squeak, I quickly faced forward as Garret did the same, pressing close. His heart beat crazily against my back, and I suspected he could feel mine pounding away, too. Thankfully, the guard passed us by once more, and this time continued through the casino until he was lost from view.
I exhaled, then collapsed into helpless giggles, leaning against Garret. He looked down with that amused half smile on his face, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with me.
“Well.” I peered down the aisle, making sure the guard was really gone, then looked back at Garret. “That was exciting, wasn’t it? I think next time we should try the poker tables.” He raised an eyebrow, looking alarmed, and I laughed again. “Sorry,” I offered. “I suppose we should head upstairs before Riley comes back and bites our heads off. I’m sure dodging casino security wasn’t exactly what you signed up for tonight.”
He chuckled. “I’ve had to lose a couple tails in my life,” he admitted. “Not all pursuers have been large angry reptiles. Tristan and I once spent the night dodging security guards in a museum warehouse. Nothing like huddling under a tarp with a family of cavemen to give you perspective.”
I blinked at him. “Did you have a few drinks before we came down here?”
“No. Why?”
“You realize you just made a joke.”
A cheer went up from the roulette crowd, and one of the drunk guys jostled me, knocking me into Garret. He quickly put out his hands, steadying us both, and my annoyance at Rude Guy was instantly forgotten as I glanced up and met those steely gray eyes.
Garret blinked. His hands lightly gripped my arms, rough, calloused fingertips warm on my skin. Slowly, he slid them up my shoulders, raising goose bumps and leaving a trail of heat. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me,” he mused, serious again. “Or maybe…I’ve come to the realization that everything I know is wrong, and I’m starting not to care anymore.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“I don’t know.” He drew closer, looking thoughtful. His gray eyes were still intense, piercing, as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. “But I’d be willing to find out.”
My heart turned over. He was giving me that look, the look of the boy from Crescent Beach, the one who had danced and surfed and kissed me in the ocean. The boy who didn’t know I was a dragon, not yet, who saw me only for me.
I swallowed hard. Ever since the night we’d faced each other on the bluff, dragon to soldier, I’d known that whatever we had over the summer was gone. Garret was part of St. George, the Order who saw all my kind as evil, soulless monsters. He might not believe that anymore, but I was still a dragon. Very much not human, despite these crazy humanlike emotions urging me forward, to reach up and pull his lips down to mine. I’d never thought we would be here again, face-to-face, with Garret watching me like I was the only person in the entire world. A ripple of doubt filtered through the happy longing. If I Shifted now, if I stood here in my real form, wings, scales, talons and all, would he still look at me like that?
The crowd at the table erupted once more, this time with loud groans and gestures of disgust. I swallowed a growl as Rude Guy hit me in the ribs with an elbow, and saw a dangerous light pass through Garret’s eyes as his attention shifted to the oblivious human. I didn’t think Garret would knock Rude Guy on his ass right here, much as I’d love to see that, but it was definitely getting crowded. I suddenly didn’t want to be surrounded by bright lights and mobs of humans. I wanted a nice dark corner to see this—whatever this was—through in peace.
“Come on,” I told Garret, backing away from the table. He followed me, that same bright, intense stare making my insides dance. “Let’s find someplace quieter.”
Garret
What are you doing, Garret?
I followed Ember through the casino, keeping a wary eye out for security, and one guard in particular. The soldier in me operated on instinct, scanning the floor, constantly alert for hidden threats. I knew it was unlikely that St. George was here, and even more unlikely that they would attack us in the casino, but a lifetime of war and fighting had made me paranoid; I couldn’t turn that off even if I wanted to. Which was good, because my emotions had become somewhat…distracting.
You know what she is. You can’t plead ignorance anymore.
I knew that. Ember was a dragon; it was impossible to forget that now. I remembered the groggy red creature staring at me from the bloody floor of a van. I remembered the way she spoke in the abandoned house, the hurt on her reptilian face when she thought I was afraid of her, that we were enemies. Even then, she’d still sounded like Ember, like the girl I’d met in Crescent Beach, though her outside form had changed. It was strange; not long ago, dragons had been monsters. Ruthless, cunning and intelligent, but monsters nonetheless. Ember wasn’t human, and maybe I was being profane, but the line between girl and dragon had somehow blurred, and I didn’t see either of them as monstrous anymore.
You’re a soldier of St. George. A dragonslayer. She should hate you, and everything you’ve done to her kind.
I winced. That was true, as well; I could never erase the years I’d fought with St. George, killing dragons, driving them toward extinction. That Ember had rescued me, risked her own life to save mine, was still hard to believe. She had to realize how dangerous it was, crossing into St. George territory, just to find me. Had it been a sense of obligation, the fact that I’d helped her and the rogue escape Crescent Beach, that made her risk everything to break into the Order chapterhouse? A debt that needed to be paid? Or could it be…something else?
Could I hope for something else?
I shook myself, trying to clear my head, calm the storm of confusing thoughts and emotions that battered me from within. I was still unsure what I was going to do, what was going to happen tonight, as Ember pushed back a door and led us outside. A rooftop pool glowed in the center of the space, and a few civilians lounged in a nearby whirlpool, despite the heavy desert heat.
Ember led us across the roof to an isolated corner surrounded by planter boxes and fake trees, where the bright lights of Vegas glimmered beyond the rails. The space was empty, but the soldier in me scanned the area out of habit, making sure it was safe, that we were alone. Ember gave a low chuckle and shook her head.
“Relax, oh paranoid one. I doubt there’ll be Talon agents hiding in the potted plants.”
“You never know,” I returned, feeling strangely light and flippant, not like myself at all. Being around Ember had that effect on me, I was discovering. “It could be a brilliant Talon plot. Instead of humans, dragons Shift into benches.”
She laughed. “Oh, great. Now I’m going to be paranoid every time I sit down. I hope you’re happy.” She turned and rested her elbows on the railing, gazing out over the city. I mimicked her pose, leaning against the rails, our arms almost touching. I was acutely aware of her body next to mine, radiating warmth, especially when Ember let out a sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder, making my pulse spike.
“Thanks for this,” she murmured, as I told myself to keep breathing. “I needed to get out, to do something, or I was going to go crazy. Staying in that room alone, there were just so many memories. I can’t be in my own head right now…” She paused, giving herself a slight shake, as if to drive those memories away. I didn’t move, afraid that if I did it would break the spell and she would pull back. Instead, Ember pressed closer, causing all my nerve endings to stand up, and we stared out at the city lights for
several silent heartbeats.
“Does it ever get any easier?” she whispered at last.
She didn’t have to explain what she meant. “Yes,” I told her. “Unfortunately. You have nightmares for a few weeks, and you question yourself for a long time—did you do the right thing, was there anything you could have done differently—but after a while, if you keep at it, pulling the trigger gets easier and easier. Eventually, it becomes routine, something you do without thinking.” I glanced at her, hoping she didn’t think I was bragging. “It’s not something to be proud of,” I said softly. “And it’s not something you should strive for, not if you want to be anywhere near normal. I’ve been a soldier all my life. St. George taught me how to kill, but that’s all I can do. It’s the only thing I know how to do.” Ember didn’t answer, her gaze far away and dark. Maybe she despised me now, a soldier who took lives so easily, who killed without thinking. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. “You don’t want that, Ember,” I said, not adding what I really thought, my own selfish desires. I don’t want that for you. I kill when I must for survival, but I wish you didn’t have to be part of this war. If I could take you away from all of it, I would.
“I know.” She shivered and pulled away, hugging her arms as if cold. “That’s why I left, after all,” she went on, her voice barely audible. “Because they wanted to turn me into a killer, an assassin for Talon. They wanted me to slaughter people, not only in the war with St. George, but to silence anyone who wasn’t loyal to the organization. They expected me to take out my own kind, rogues like Riley, if they ordered it.”
I nodded, remembering an earlier conversation with Riley, how he’d said not all dragons wanted to be a part of Talon. And while he hadn’t actually come out and said what happened to the rogues who left the organization, it had been strongly implied. Suspicion rose up, mingling with the guilt. Before this summer, it had never occurred to me that there were dragons who rejected Talon’s ambitions, who wanted to be free of the organization. Dragons like Riley and Ember. Rogues hunted by their own.