Rogue (The Talon Saga Book 2)

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Rogue (The Talon Saga Book 2) Page 22

by Julie Kagawa


  He was being unreasonable. Of course I wasn’t thinking about the future; what sixteen-year-old—of any species—did that? I hadn’t been trying to piss Riley off tonight. I was just feeling bored, guilty, homesick and frankly pretty miserable, and somehow, Garret could bring me out of it. He made me forget the bad things for a while, just like he had in Crescent Beach. When I was with him, I could almost pretend I was normal.

  My dragon snarled at me, disgusted. You’re not normal, she whispered, an insidious worm in my brain. You’re not human, and the soldier won’t be here forever. Riley will.

  A slight brush against my leg jolted me out of my dark thoughts. I peeked over and met Garret’s eyes, worried and questioning, red neon lights washing over his face. His hand lay between us, the back of his knuckles resting against my jeans. A warm glow spread through my stomach and I gave him a furtive smile, even as my dragon recoiled with a hiss.

  The cab took us away from the main flow of traffic, moving away from the Strip and the glittering behemoths on either side of the street. We drove for several more silent minutes, going deeper into the fringe neighborhoods, until the taxi pulled up to a curb seemingly in the middle of nowhere and lurched to a stop. A tall chain-link fence ran the length of the sidewalk, and beyond the metal barrier, a flat expanse of nothing stretched away into the darkness.

  Riley shoved a bill into the driver’s palm and exited the cab without speaking. Garret and I followed, and the taxi sped off. Leaving us on a deserted sidewalk many blocks from the lights and crowds of the Strip.

  “What is this place?” I asked, peering through the fence. There were no lights, no roads or even pavement. The ground was dusty and flat, an odd field of dirt surrounded by concrete. Though in the distance, I could see the uneven, skeletal outline of some huge structure hiding in the shadows.

  “It’s a hotel,” Riley said brusquely, shoving his wallet into his back pocket again. “Started but never finished due to the recession, most likely. It’s abandoned now.”

  “Why are we here?” Garret added, observing the area with a wary, practiced eye. The paranoia had returned; he was a soldier once more, and every shadow could hide a possible threat.

  Riley gave him a cold look, as if debating whether to explain or not, then shrugged. “I got word of a couple runaways tonight,” he said, making my stomach leap to my throat. “Possibly mine. They’re supposed to be here, somewhere, hiding from Talon. I figured with all the St. George activity in the city, I’d better get to them first. Before the Order shows up and blows them to pieces.”

  Garret frowned. “You didn’t think it important to tell us before we left the hotel?”

  “I don’t owe you any explanations, St. George,” Riley said. “You’re not here because I need you to be. We’re going in, grabbing a couple hatchlings and getting out as fast as we can. If that flies in the face of your dragonslayer convictions, feel free to take the next cab back to the hotel. No one here is stopping you.”

  I bristled at Riley’s assholey-ness, but Garret’s voice was calm when he answered. “This could be a drug den,” he said. “Or a gang hideout. At the very least, there will be homeless people and squatters wandering around. If we’re going to extract two dragons without opposition, one or more of us should be armed.”

  Riley snorted. “Against a bunch of humans? What are they going to do, babble me to death?”

  “They could have weapons.”

  “Then we’ll be really careful and not attract attention,” Riley snapped. “I didn’t have time to grab anything, thanks to your and Ember’s little disappearing act, and I didn’t want to risk carrying a duffel bag of guns through the casino. So no, we don’t have any weapons this time. Get used to the idea.”

  “And the Order?”

  “Wes is hacked into a couple traffic cams around the block,” Riley answered, making a vague gesture at the street. “He’ll let me know if there’s trouble. Don’t worry, St. George.” He gave Garret a cold smile. “I’ve got it all figured out.”

  Before either of us could protest further, he turned and leaped gracefully to the top of the fence, then dropped noiselessly to the other side. Without a word, he spun and strode away into the darkness. Garret and I exchanged a glance and then hurried after him.

  It was eerie, being on this side of the fence. My shoes raised small poofs of dust as we walked. Stacks of rotting wood, iron and huge cement tubes were scattered about the barren landscape, like modern skeletons in the dirt. There were no signs of life. Even the eternal sound of traffic faded, red taillights becoming distant mirages, leaving us in a bubble of darkness.

  The entrance of the hotel loomed ahead, the strangely elegant front marred by a crown of jagged beams and unfinished upper floors. Again, I was struck by the eerie silence as we approached the shattered lobby doors and stepped carefully over the threshold into the darkness of the dead hotel.

  The first thing I noticed was the heat. The second was the smell. The air through the doors was hot and stale, and reeked of piss, sweat, puke and general human disgustingness. I gagged and pressed closer to Garret. Who, of course, seemed unfazed by it all. Damn soldier unflappability. Riley, clicking on a small flashlight, wrinkled his nose, then turned to us.

  “Stay close.” His voice, though soft, echoed in the emptiness of the lobby. “Looks like there are people here after all.”

  “Ya think?”

  There was a shuffle in the darkness, and Riley swept the flashlight around, pinning a thin, almost skeletal figure in the glare. A woman, her shirt nearly falling off her bony shoulders, gave us a glassy, deer-in-headlights stare before shambling away. My skin crawled, and I crossed my arms to hide my fear.

  “Oh, that’s great,” I whispered, as the shuffling footsteps faded away in the darkness. “We’re in a zombie movie. I swear, if I see any walking dead, I don’t care who’s around—they’re all getting a fireball between the eyes.”

  Riley gave an amused snort, as if he couldn’t help himself, and eased forward, sweeping the beam around the barren lobby. “Try not to burn down the hotel, Firebrand,” he warned, as the light slid over the front desk, which was covered in several layers of dust and cobwebs. “This place is a tinderbox. One spark, and it’s likely to explode.” Something small and furry darted across the floor and vanished into a crack in the wall. Riley shook his head. “Actually, that might not be a bad thing, but if an abandoned, multimillion-dollar hotel suddenly goes up in smoke, it’ll tell Talon and the Order exactly where we are. So no fireballs.”

  “Oh, fine,” I whispered back, as we ventured farther into the hotel, following a wall as it curved away into the dark. “That’s okay. If we are attacked by zombies, I don’t have to run fast. I just have to run faster than you.”

  Garret’s hand suddenly closed on my arm in a grip of steel, pulling me to a stop. At the same time, Riley froze. I looked past the thin beam of light from Riley’s hand and tensed.

  We’d reached the edge of what was probably the casino floor, had the hotel been finished. The room beyond was large and open; I could see the aisles of carpet where slot machines would go, the long strips for blackjack tables. Though the space was vast, it was even hotter here than in the lobby, and the smell was so bad it nearly knocked me down. I didn’t know how anyone could stand it, but the small clusters of ragged, unwashed people scattered about the room didn’t seem to notice.

  A few yards away, a trio of humans sat huddled on a stained, threadbare mattress, giggling as they passed something small and bright between them. The glow of a lantern washed over their slack, pale faces and staring eyes. Nearby, another human glanced up from where he sat on an ancient sofa between two human girls. The girls stared at us, expressions slack and far away, but the guy’s face hardened and he rose quickly.

  “This ain’t a public party, friends,” he said with a menace-filled smile. He was tall and
lanky, his torn jeans just barely clinging to narrow hip bones. A filthy red hoodie covered his head, even in the heat, and his eyes were bulging and eager. “I think you’re a little lost. That’s too bad, ain’t it?”

  Riley crossed his arms. “You mean this isn’t the Palazzo?” he said, his voice echoing through the bare beams overhead. “Well, don’t I feel silly. Especially since I blew all my cash on the penny slots.” His voice changed, becoming slightly more ominous. “I don’t suppose we can skip the pleasantries and get to the part where we walk through unmolested?”

  The human snapped his fingers, and a trio of equally thin, ragged guys uncurled from the floor and shuffled forward to flank him. A knife suddenly gleamed between long dirty fingers as he raised his arm, and I went rigid. “Gimme your wallet,” the junkie demanded. Garret tensed and stepped in front of me, his body like a taut wire. “And your phone. And whatever cash you have. Put it on the ground, and step away. Them, too,” he added, jerking his head at me and Garret. “Jewelry, purses, whatever. Leave everything you have on the floor, and you can walk out still breathing.”

  Riley sighed. Raising his hands like he was thinking it over, he took a half step back, standing next to Garret. “How many?” he murmured in a voice almost too soft to hear. I frowned in confusion, but apparently, the query wasn’t directed at me.

  “Three here, another two on the wall behind us,” Garret replied in an equally quiet voice.

  “Armed?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I’ll let you take care of them. Firebrand, watch your back.”

  “Hey.” The junkie leader stepped forward, raising the knife. “Didn’t you hear me? Gimme your stuff, man, or I’ll start cutting off body parts.”

  “I told you, I don’t have anything,” Riley insisted, lifting his arms in a placating gesture. “We came for the weekend and are now completely broke. I’m sure you hear that a lot here.”

  “Phones, then.” The human turned and brandished the knife at Garret. “Gimme your phones.”

  “Sorry.” Garret gave a helpless shrug. “Dropped it in the pool.”

  The junkie’s gaze shifted to me, and I smirked at him. “Left mine in the cab.”

  “Rotten luck, huh?” Riley added.

  “Man, do not fuck with me!” The junkie stepped forward, jabbing the blade at Riley’s face. “Do you want me to gut you like a pig? Is that—”

  Garret’s hand shot out, grabbed the hand with the knife and wrenched it sideways, making the junkie yelp with shock and pain. His cry was cut short as the soldier moved in with a savage elbow to his temple, dropping him like a sack of stones. Before the others even registered what was happening, Riley lunged and drove a fist into one’s jaw, snapping his head to the side. The junkie reeled away, toppled over the sofa to the shrieks of the two girls and lay still.

  Something moved in the corner of my eye. I spun, dodged the arm grabbing for me and kicked the human’s knee out as he passed, making the junkie crash to the floor. Garret blocked a fist from the second one and responded with a nasty right hook that rocked his opponent sideways. A third charged in, swinging a length of rebar, and my heart leaped to my throat. Garret ducked under the first swing and got out of the way, as Riley whirled around and smashed a fist into the human’s jaw. He reeled back into Garret, who grabbed his wrist, twisted the rebar from his hand and swept his feet out from under him. As the human hit the ground on his back, Garret tossed the rebar to Riley, who turned and whacked a junkie across the temple, sending him crashing into a pillar.

  As I grinned, watching the unconscious display of teamwork, something grabbed me from behind and pinned my arms to my sides. Another junkie, reeking of smoke and body odor, tried to lift me off my feet and drag me away. I snarled and jerked my head back, cracking my skull into his nose. He yelped and released me, but threw a hard backhand at my face as I spun to face him. I dodged, but it clipped my cheek all the same. Pain flared across my eyes, and the dragon surged up with a roar of outrage. As the human groped for me again, I brought my foot up and kicked him between the legs as hard as I could.

  His eyes bulged, and he staggered, mouth gaping. I kicked him once more for good measure, then shoved him back. He collapsed in a groaning heap on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, and didn’t get up.

  I curled a lip at him, then turned to find Riley and Garret. They stood back-to-back, surrounded by cringing, writhing junkies, while the rest of the den looked on from a safe distance away. Riley held the length of pipe casually at his side as he gazed around the room, grinning. Garret hovered behind him in a ready stance, protecting his flank, scanning the area for threats.

  “Anyone else?” he asked calmly.

  No one came forward. The junkies on the floor crawled to their feet and staggered away, and the remaining humans suddenly seemed very interested in other things. Riley snorted, tossed the rebar away with a clank and looked around for me.

  “Hey, Firebrand,” he said as I walked up. “Sorry I couldn’t get over to help. You okay?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. Feel sorry for the guy who tried to slap me.”

  Garret, stepping out from behind Riley, gave me a faint smile. “I notice you managed to kick him in your favorite spot,” he observed.

  “Twice.”

  Riley winced, then looked at Garret. The other boy regarded him coolly, and Riley smirked. “See, St. George? We don’t need guns. You’re actually fairly competent at disabling people without them.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Garret said drily, “the next time we face a dozen soldiers with assault rifles.”

  Riley shook his head. “Hopefully not tonight,” he muttered, and turned away, observing the room once more. “So now the question is, how do we find two scared runaways in this mess?”

  Soft footsteps interrupted us. I glanced over to see a skinny, zombielike figure shambling toward us from the shadows.

  Riley

  The human edged into the light, shoulders hunched, watching us like a stray dog who wasn’t certain if you would toss it food or kick it. A woman, I saw as she got close. As humans went, she might have been pretty once, maybe even gorgeous. But her blond hair was lank and stringy now, her skin pale and wasted, glassy blue eyes sunk into her face. She looked like a bony marionette as she eased forward and stopped just out of reach, the hollow expression and thousand-yard stare making my dragon stir restlessly.

  “Angels,” she whispered.

  I frowned. My adrenaline was up; the fight had made me edgy and restless. I was not in the mood for this. “What?”

  “The angels,” she murmured again, and I saw she had only a few teeth left in her head. “The ones you want. The one’s you’re looking for. The pretty ones.” One hand rose like a limp fish and pointed behind her. I squinted across the floor. A door sat against the far wall, barely visible in the shadows, looking like the entrance to a stairwell. “Near the sky,” she whispered, as if in a daze. “The angels. They have to be near the sky.”

  “Upstairs?” Ember asked, but the human turned and shuffled back into the darkness, muttering to herself. I listened to her footsteps fade away, listened to her babble softly to herself, until the sounds were swallowed by the blackness, leaving us alone.

  “Crazy humans,” I muttered, and resisted the urge to brush imaginary loony off my jacket. “Well, at least we know where we’re going.”

  Sick-looking, emaciated people gave us blank stares as we crossed the open floor, giggling uncontrollably, or talking to themselves in hushed voices. No one tried to stop or harass us again, except for some crazy old guy who grinned and made a lewd comment to Ember. She whirled on him, bristling. The soldier quickly grabbed her, stopping her midlunge and halting whatever she was planning to do, which was probably kick the old codger in his withered jewels. I snickered, almost sorry he’d stopped her, but b
y that time, we had reached the other side of the room and I pushed open the door.

  A wave of dry, stale heat billowed through the opening, and a rusted metal staircase ascended into utter darkness.

  “How far do you think we should go?” Ember asked once we had all stepped through the door, crowding the bottom of the stairs. It was even hotter here than the casino. My hair stuck to my neck, and even though I didn’t mind the heat, I could feel sweat running down my back through my shirt.

  “All the way,” I answered, shining the light up the tube. “As far as we can.”

  So we climbed. Up several flights in blistering, oven-like temperatures, Ember and the soldier trailing behind me. We met no one else; it was just our footsteps echoing up the shaft. I assumed the heat and utter darkness kept most junkies out of the stairwell at night, though the tube still reeked of piss and garbage and other things.

  And then, quite suddenly, we couldn’t go any farther. The stairwell ended at another simple metal door that creaked as I pushed it back, shining the light through the opening.

  We’d reached the end of the hotel’s construction. Beyond the door, half walls and rotting wooden frames created a labyrinth of metal and iron. Carefully, we eased inside, brushing aside ragged plastic sheets that hung everywhere, fluttering in the hot wind. I glanced up, and saw that the roof was open to the sky, though it was impossible to see the stars through the haze of the city. I could breathe easier, though, just being this close without the stink of human filth and craziness clogging my nose. If I were two runaway hatchlings, this was where I would go.

  “What are we looking for?” St. George asked as we maneuvered our way across the floor. The wood groaned under our feet, and I stepped lightly over beams and rusty metal screws. Hopefully nothing would give way beneath us; the floor looked pretty rotten.

  “Two kids,” I told him. “Hatchlings. Probably no older than either of you.” I brushed aside a sheet and ducked under a low-hanging beam, poking the light into dark corners. “If you find either of them, let me handle it. They’re going to be terrified of strangers, of anyone who could be from Talon. I don’t want them running off before I—”

 

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