by Mari Mancusi
Trinity thought back to the scale, her brow furrowing. “Do you think she’s telling the truth when she says she doesn’t remember? I mean, I felt it myself when it happened—on my own arm, thanks to our little bond. If the pain felt anything like that for her, there’s no way she wouldn’t notice.”
“I don’t know,” Connor replied doubtfully. “I’m just glad it wasn’t serious. It’s not like we can just take her to the vet if something worse happens. Which is, again, why she needs to stay in the barn, where it’s safe.”
“I know,” Trin said with a moan. “I do. I just wish she didn’t hate it so much in there.”
“Yeah, well it beats being dead, right?”
Connor’s tone was deceptively light, but there was a thread of bitterness underneath, making Trinity’s skin prickle. As she glanced up at the former hunter, she wondered, not for the first time, if he was having second thoughts about abandoning his original mission. After all, in a matter of months, the guy had gone from being a celebrated Dragon Hunter to a glorified babysitter, responsible for the care and feeding of a creature whose progeny had murdered his father and decimated his world. That couldn’t be easy.
“Look, Trin,” Connor added, catching her expression. “You’re right. Emmy probably would be happier if she was given more freedom—just like the rest of us. I mean, I don’t imagine you love spending your days holed up in some abandoned farmhouse either. Away from your home, your friends. We’re all making sacrifices here. Emmy doesn’t get a pass.”
She sighed. As always, he made perfect sense. As much as it pained her to see Emmy so miserable, there was too much risk involved in letting her loose. The Dracken for one thing. While Darius—and maybe his co-leader Mara—were still in prison, that didn’t mean others had given up the search for Emmy. The Potentials, for example, the group of kids the Dracken had gathered from around the world to help raise the new crop of dragons. They would still believe that Emmy had the power to save their home countries from poverty and war, and that Trinity had stolen her away from them. They weren’t going to just give up and go home.
“And that’s not even counting the rest of the world,” Connor reminded her, evidently reading her thoughts—or maybe just the look on her face. “Imagine what would happen if people learned there was a fire-breathing beast on the loose in Texas.”
She cringed. “It’d be open season on dragons,” she admitted. “If the government didn’t swoop in and take her away first.”
“And then we’d be right back where we started,” Connor concluded. “Emmy would be cloned and those violent hybrid dragons would be let loose on the world. The apocalypse, all over again. Everything we’ve worked so hard to prevent would have been for nothing.”
And her nightmares would finally come true.
She nodded slowly, frustration building up inside of her, threatening to explode. “I hate this!” she blurted, squeezing her hands into fists. “I’m supposed to be her guardian, not her jailer!” She turned to Connor, looking up at him with anguished eyes. “What are we doing?” she demanded. “Running from place to place, barely surviving. We have no plan. No way to make any of this turn out okay.” She raked a hand through her tangled hair. “Maybe it would have been better to let her die in her egg.” Her voice broke. “At least that way it would be over. She wouldn’t have to suffer like this!”
She started to turn, but Connor grabbed her, tugging her into his arms. “You don’t mean that,” he scolded in a fierce voice. “I know you don’t mean that. You’re just upset. And you’re scared. We all are.”
Trinity swallowed hard, her whole body trembling with emotion. “I can’t even tell you…When I walked into the barn. When I saw she was gone.” She closed her eyes, shuddering. “If I had lost her…after all I promised…”
“You’re not going to lose her,” Connor interrupted. “Not now, not ever. Remember, she chose you—out of everyone else—to be her guardian. The one to keep her safe. And you’ve already proven yourself more than worthy of that choice. You saved her from the government agents. You saved her from the Dracken. Hell…” He gave her bashful grin. “You even saved her from me. And that’s saying something. I’m usually damn good at my job.”
She chuckled despite herself and Connor pulled her closer. With her ear flush to his chest, she could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, just like the dragon hunter himself. Suddenly she felt bad for having doubted his intentions. After all, he’d sacrificed everything he believed in, abandoned his quest for revenge against the species that had destroyed his world. And it had all been for her.
Connor pulled away from the hug, his hands finding her face and his eyes holding hers with a piercing gaze. Her breath hitched. Sometimes she forgot how blue those eyes of his were. Like the summer sky on a cloudless day. Eyes that could give a person hope—something that admittedly was in very short supply.
“You’re doing the right thing,” he told her. “Not the easy thing. But the right thing. Emmy may not understand it now, but she’ll appreciate it later. I truly believe if we stay strong and keep out of sight until we figure out what to do, we’ll find a way to make this all turn out okay. For Emmy…and the rest of the world.”
He trailed off, staring at her with an intensity that made her shiver. Then he gave her a goofy smile. “You may be her Fire Kissed,” he teased, “but we’re all on Team Dragon here.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at this and the tension broke between them. Grandpa had made that joke about a month ago, after skimming through one of her teen romance novels, and it had stuck ever since. It sounded so cheesy, but she kind of liked the sentiment all the same. She wasn’t alone. They were all in this together.
“Can you unlock the door?” she asked, gesturing to the padlock. When Connor gave her a questioning look, she shrugged. “She’s part of the team too, right? I don’t want her to feel all alone.” She paused then added, “You can lock up behind me and come get me in the morning.”
Connor did what she asked, though he didn’t look too thrilled about it. But she gave him her best reassuring smile then stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She waited to hear the click of the padlock then felt her way to the back of the barn. It was pitch-dark, but she could hear Emmy’s soft breaths, guiding her steps. Kneeling down, she reached out until her hands connected with the dragon’s satiny soft scales. When Emmy opened her eyes, they glowed like blue diamonds in the darkness.
You’re back, the dragon observed, her normally sweet voice sounding a little cold. Did you forget something?
“No,” Trinity replied. “I just wanted to talk to you.” She reached out to stroke the ridges on Emmy’s snout. Usually it was the dragon’s favorite spot to be scratched. But this time she only jerked her head away, small puffs of smoke billowing from her nose.
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Trinity observed sadly, reaching over to pull the LED lantern out from under a bench and flick on the switch. She wondered how much of the conversation Emmy had caught between her and Connor outside the barn. Sometimes it was hard to remember how self-aware the dragon had become over the last couple of months. While in some ways she was still very pet-like, in other ways she had become very human.
With very human emotions.
No, you’re mad at me, remember? Emmy corrected in a sulky voice. Because I left the barn without your permission. Her mimic of Trinity’s voice was dead-on, and Trin felt her face flush.
“I’m not mad,” she protested. “I was just scared. When I saw you weren’t in the barn…I thought something bad had happened to you, Ems. And when I found out Caleb has been sneaking you out all this time and you’ve been keeping it from me? What am I supposed to think about that?”
And there it was, she realized with a start. It wasn’t that Caleb had been sneaking Emmy out that had been bothering her—not really. It was that Emmy hadn’t told her he was doing it. They were
supposed to be bonded—as close as two souls could be. And yet the dragon had been keeping secrets from her. Were there other secrets as well?
Her eyes fell to Emmy’s broken scale and her heart panged.
Don’t you trust me?
The dragon’s question was stark and simple, spoken without judgment or rebuke. But it felt like a knife to the gut all the same. Trust had never come easy to Trinity, not after all the times the people in her life had disappointed her. And Emmy knew that—better than anyone. For her to throw it back in Trin’s face now felt intentional.
“Of course I trust you,” she said, her voice cracking at the edges. “I trust you more than anyone else in the world. It’s other people I don’t trust, Ems. If they were to see you. If they were to find out you were here…”
What, they might take me away? Emmy questioned, raising a scaly eyelid.
When Trin nodded, the dragon huffed. I’d like to see them try. I am a dragon, after all. I’m not afraid of a few humans.
She looked so offended that Trinity had to laugh. “Yes, yes, you’re a great and terrible Smaug,” she couldn’t help but tease. “But we’re hoping to keep the peace here, remember? That’s sort of the whole point of doing this.”
She stopped short, realizing Emmy didn’t look amused. In fact she looked kind of angry. “I’m sorry,” Trin said. “I was just being stupid.”
The dragon bristled. Do you think the idea of me protecting you is stupid?
“No, Emmy. Of course not. I’m just saying—”
I thought I was here to help people. Why can’t I do that? There are people out there, Trinity. People who are hurt. People who are dying. I could help them. I know I could. I could make things better, instead of just rotting away uselessly in a barn.
“Oh, Emmy.” Trinity’s heart wrenched. “I want you to be able to do all of that too. But it’s not that simple. There are people out there who want to use you—and not for helping people either. If you show yourself, they’ll take you away.”
A low growl rumbled in Emmy’s throat. I repeat: I would like to see them try.
Trinity closed her eyes, frustrated beyond belief. She had come in here to apologize to her dragon. But it seemed everything she tried to say was only making things worse.
“Look, Emmy, you’ve got to understand—”
Will you please put on my show? the dragon suddenly interrupted, effectively declaring the conversation over. I want to watch my show now.
Trinity stared at her for a moment then shook her head. “Sure,” she said, giving up. “Let me get the player.”
Reaching under the wooden bench where the lantern had been stored, she pulled out the portable DVD player she’d bought the dragon a month ago. It was the kind that you could charge in the car, which allowed for watching without electricity. “What do you want me to put in?”
Merlin, Emmy declared, not surprisingly. She’d fallen in love with the Arthurian BBC show from the first episode, declaring that the dragon Kilgharrah was rather hot—no pun intended.
“Sure,” she said with forced brightness, trying to take the high road. “Let me cue it up.” She worked the remote then turned to the dragon. “Did you want me to text Connor for popcorn or something?”
No, thank you, Emmy said in a clipped voice. But you can ask him to let you out of the barn if you like. So you can go back and sleep in your own bed.
“Oh. Okay,” Trin replied, trying to speak past the lump that had solidified in her throat. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
She rose to her feet, the hurt settling into her stomach like lead as she walked toward the door. She turned to the dragon, giving her one last look. “I’m sorry, Emmy,” she said. “I know it sucks. But it’s for the best. It really is. For your own safety and the safety of the entire world…no one can know you exist.”
Chapter Five
Ten million views. Ten million views in the last ten hours.
Scarlet stared at the thirteen-inch computer monitor in Vista High’s tiny school library, scarcely able to believe her eyes. Ten million, six hundred thousand, three hundred and twenty-three—no, make that twenty-four—views of her dragon video since she’d uploaded it—a mere ten hours before. She couldn’t believe it; people from all over the country—all over the world—all logging in and watching her little home movie.
And commenting too. While some professed amazement that such a creature had been caught on tape—smack dab in the middle of Texas, no less—others were a bit more…skeptical…to say the least, posting the wildest conspiracy theories on how she had managed to doctor the footage before uploading. From comments insisting the dragon was nothing more than a tiny insect up against a studio green screen to those who suggested an entirely computer-generated beast, ripped from the popular Fields of Fantasy video game, the theories went on and on. Some of the accusations were so complicated, in fact, she was pretty sure that even a master CGI expert at LucasArts would find them difficult to replicate.
“Whatcha looking at?”
Startled, Scarlet jumped at the voice. Her hands flew to the keyboard, guiltily alt-tabbing out of Internet Explorer and back to the Civil War essay she was supposed to be working on for her American history class, until she realized it was only Rebekah.
Her best friend leaned over the chair, tossing a lock of bright blue hair over her shoulder as she eyed the computer screen with mock suspicion. “Did I catch you looking at porn again, young lady?” she scolded. “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s no sex in study hall.”
Scarlet snorted. “It was YouTube, thank you very much.”
Her friend tapped a finger to her chin. “YouTube, huh?” she repeated. “Funny, I was quite certain that was on the prohibited website list at Vista Memorial High.”
“Not if you’re using it for research.”
“Right. Research.” Rebekah gave her a knowing look. “So what you’re saying is if I were to, say, hit alt-tab on your computer right this very second, I’ll be taken to some kind of Civil War reenactment relative to your history assignment? As opposed to, say….a Two Sad Boys concert video or other such non-educational drivel?”
Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Um, sure. As long as you don’t require any proof whatsoever of that statement—then yes. Yes, you would.”
Rebekah pounced on the keyboard. Scarlet tried to stop her, grabbing it back, giggling. As they wrestled over the keys, the librarian at the other end of the room gave them a nasty look, forcing Scarlet to reluctantly surrender.
Rebekah let out a triumphant cheer, followed by an overly dramatic alt-tab—just to rub it in. “Now, let’s see what you’re really trying to—”
She stopped short, her eyes lighting up as she stared at the screen. “Oh, dude, I saw this this morning!” she crowed, hitting play on the video to start it up again. “This thing is amazing. I mean, I’m sure it’s totally doctored and stuff. But it’s so freaking cool. Watch this—here’s where the dragon spreads its wings and…” She trailed off, catching Scarlet’s face. “What?”
Scarlet debated on whether or not to come clean to her friend. “I’ve seen it,” she admitted at last.
“And what, you’re not totally blown away? This amazing, once-in-a-lifetime video is just Tuesday to your sad and world-weary teenage heart?”
“No. It’s cool,” Scarlet corrected. “It’s really cool. It’s just…”
“You think it’s fake.”
She shook her head. “Actually, I know it’s real.”
“And you became a professional video authenticator when?”
Scarlet decided to go for it. “When the video in question came from my own cell phone.”
“What are you talking about? This video was clearly uploaded by…” Rebekah scanned the screen for a user name. “Scarlet-with-the-lead pipe-in-the-library.” She frowned. “Oh.”
Scarlet gave her a sweet look. “You were saying?”
“Back up a minute,” her friend demanded. “Start from the beginning. And don’t you dare leave anything out.”
And so Scarlet did, though she conveniently forgot to mention the whole “how she ended up in the woods in the first place” part, of course. Rebekah was a good friend. But she lived on the proverbial right side of the tracks, and the only family issues she had to deal with was Daddy having the nerve to deny her a new car for her super sweet sixteen and her brother refusing to let her drive his old beater. In other words, she wouldn’t understand.
Besides, how could she explain the rest? The whole dragon thing was about as unbelievable as you could get in the first place. Then you add supernatural healing through some kind of weird dragon blood transfusion to the mix? She was pretty sure Rebekah would be speed-dialing the men in white coats before she could even finish her tale.
She glanced involuntarily down at her arm. At the smooth, unbroken skin. In fact, if anything, it actually looked better now than before she’d cut herself on the broken glass. She felt better too. After getting Mom’s call that it was safe to come home around two a.m., she’d expected to be exhausted when her alarm went off the next morning. Instead, she felt great. Completely awesome, in fact. As if she were highly caffeinated but without all the jitters.
Coincidental? Or did the dragon blood have something to do with that too?
She realized Rebekah was still staring at her.
“What?” she asked, feeling a little sheepish.
“You saw a dragon,” her friend stated. “A real-life dragon.”
“Yes.”
“And you put it on YouTube.”
“As you do.”
“And now that shiz has gone viral?”
Scarlet’s eyes fell to the counter. Ten million, six hundred thousand, five hundred and thirty-three views. “See for yourself.”
Rebekah squealed. Literally squealed. “Dude! Do you know what this means?” she cried, jumping up and down. The librarian shot her another look, her finger to her mouth in an overly exaggerated shush gesture. Rebekah dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “We’re going to be freaking rich!”