Talon Read online

  “That’s what I was doing, before you shaved a couple years off my life,” I whispered, moving away from the door, back toward the stairs. I kept my head down as we climbed the steps so he wouldn’t see I was lying. “Are you going to tell Liam?”

  I heard the irritation in his voice as he answered. “You know I wouldn’t do that. You’re an idiot, but you’re still my sister. We stick together, no matter what.” I relaxed, and his tone sharpened. “Even when I think you did something completely stupid and dangerous tonight, just because you wanted to fly.”

  I stopped outside the door to my room. “It isn’t that bad.”

  “Ember. It’s the one thing that can get us called back to Talon. Or get you called back to Talon. I don’t want us to be separated, and I sure as hell don’t want to go back.” Dante shook his head with a frustrated sigh, before giving me a half angry, half pleading look. “You can’t do that anymore, okay, sis? This one time, I understand. But we have to follow the rules or risk losing everything we’ve worked so hard for. Sixteen years of preparing for this, all gone in an instant. Am I making any sense to you?”

  I slumped. “Yeah,” I whispered. He was right; I’d been stupid and stubborn and had taken a huge risk tonight. I’d endangered not only my time here but Dante’s, too. My actions affected both of us, and I’d forgotten that. I might be okay with risking my own neck, but I wouldn’t risk my brother’s. “Okay, fine,” I said. “I was a moron. No more flying around after midnight, I promise.”

  Even though something inside me shriveled a bit in misery. My dragon, perhaps, mourning the loss of her wings, and knowing she would never see Cobalt again. She already missed him.

  Dante nodded. “Good,” he said, and gave me a lopsided little grin. “Because I’m going to be a zombie today, thanks to you. Next time, at least have the courtesy to sneak out on a weekend when I don’t have to be up in an hour.”

  I snorted. “Good night, Tweedledum.”

  He smirked and turned down the hall, and I went through my own door, letting it click shut behind me. Walking to my bed, I did a face-plant into the mattress, replaying the events of the day.

  Busy night. And it wasn’t done yet. I still had to meet Garret later this afternoon for surf lessons. The thought sent a little thrill through me; the human was gorgeous, mysterious, and those metallic gray eyes made my tummy squirm. I was definitely looking forward to seeing him again. Though, I had to admit, flying the waves with Cobalt, feeling that surge of pure adrenaline as we soared the wind together, was just bliss. The rogue was cocky, arrogant and exasperating, but he certainly knew how to live.

  And, if what Cobalt said was true, there was still the matter of the hidden room in the basement. There was no time to search for it now, of course, but I would get down there soon and see if the rogue knew what he was talking about. If Talon was keeping secrets, I wanted to know why.

  My eyes flickered shut, the tired contentment of soaring the wind stealing over me. No matter what I promised my brother, tonight had been amazing. And I knew I wouldn’t forget it—or the mysterious rogue—anytime soon.

  Worth it, my dragon side whispered smugly.

  Just as the alarm buzzed.

  * * *

  “You look tired, hatchling.” Scary Talon Lady eyed me critically across the desk, arms crossed as she looked me up and down. “Did you not get enough sleep? I told your guardians I wanted you here early today.”

  “It’s five-thirty in the morning,” I said, knowing how I must look—eyes bloodshot, hair spiky with wind and salt. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

  “Well, this should perk you right up.” My instructor smiled in that way that chilled my blood. “We’re doing something a little different this morning. Follow me.”

  Nervously, I trailed her down to the storage room, then blinked in surprise when she opened the door. The normally vast, empty space was filled wall-to-wall with crates, pallets, steel drums and ladders. Some were stacked nearly to the ceiling, creating a labyrinth of shadowy aisles, hallways and corridors, a gigantic maze inside the room.

  “What’s this for?” I asked, just as something small and fast streaked from the darkness and hit me right in the chest. With a yelp, I staggered back, clutching my shoulder. Thick liquid spread over my clothes, and my hand came away smeared with red. “What the hell?” I gasped.

  “It’s paint,” my trainer said calmly, easing my panicked confusion. “But, make no mistake, had that been a real bullet, you would most assuredly be dead.” She waved an arm toward the labyrinth of boxes looming before me in the darkness. “There are a dozen ‘St. George soldiers’ hiding in that maze,” she continued, smiling down at me. “All hunting you. All looking to kill you. Welcome to phase two of your training, hatchling. I want you to go in there and survive as long as you can.”

  I stared into the room, trying to catch glimpses of my attackers, these “soldiers” of St. George. I couldn’t see anything, but I was quite certain they could see me and were probably watching us right now. “How long is long enough?” I asked quietly.

  “Until I say so.”

  Of course. With a sigh, I began walking toward the maze, but Scary Talon Lady’s voice stopped me before I took three steps.

  “What do you think you’re doing, hatchling?”

  Annoyed, I turned back, wondering what I’d done wrong this time. “I’m doing what you told me to. Go into maze, get shot at, survive. Isn’t that what you want?”

  My instructor gave me a blatant look of disgust and shook her head. “You’re not taking this seriously. If you are trapped in a warehouse with a team of well-trained, heavily armed St. George soldiers, do you really think you are going to survive as a human?”

  I stared at her, frowning, before I got what she was really saying. “You...you mean I can do this in my real form?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I do hope your brother catches on faster than you. It would be a shame to lose you both to stupidity.”

  “Yes!” I whispered, clenching my fist. I barely heard the insult. I could finally be a dragon without breaking the rules. That almost made this whole crazy exercise worth it.

  My trainer snapped her fingers and pointed to a large stack of crates in the corner.

  “If you are concerned about modesty, or your clothes, you may change over there,” she ordered in a flat voice. “Though you are eventually going to have to get over that. There will be no time to find a bathroom if you are being chased by snipers in helicopters.”

  I hurried over and ducked behind the boxes, then shrugged out of my clothes as fast as I could. My body rippled as the dragon burst free again, wings brushing against the wooden crates as they unfurled for the second time that morning. It was still liberating, still completely freeing, even after a whole night of flying around.

  My talons clicked over the concrete as I stalked back to the maze, feeling comfortable and confident in my dragon skin. Even Scary Talon Lady didn’t look quite so scary anymore, though she eyed my dragon self with as much bored disdain as she did my human self.

  “Hold still,” she ordered, and pressed something into my ear hole, right behind my horns. I snorted and reared back, shaking my head, and she cuffed me under the chin. “Stop that. It’s just an earbud. It will allow me to communicate with you in the maze, and to hear everything that is going on around you. So stop twitching.”

  I curled my lip, trying not to think about it, even though it was uncomfortable. My trainer didn’t notice. “On my signal,” she continued, pulling out her phone, “you have two minutes to find a good position and prepare for the hunt. If you are shot, you are ‘dead.’ Which means you have two minutes to find another position before the hunt starts again, and I add another fifteen minutes to the overall game. How long we are here depends on how long you survive, understand?”

  Crap. That meant I just wou
ld have to avoid getting shot. No way I was staying here all afternoon, not with Garret waiting for me. Dragon or no, I’d promised him a surf lesson, and I still wanted to see him. “Yes,” I answered.

  “I will be observing your progress from up top,” she continued, “so do not think you can lie about being killed. We will stay here all day if that is what it takes until I am satisfied.”

  Double crap. How long would I have to stay alive before this unappeasable woman was “satisfied”? Probably much longer than I thought.

  “Two minutes,” Scary Talon Lady reminded me. “Starting...now.”

  I spun, claws raking over the cement, and bounded into the maze.

  I didn’t see any soldiers as I wove my way through the endless corridors, peeking around crates to make sure the aisles were empty. Everything remained very quiet, save for my breathing, and the click of my talons on the cement. As I crept farther into the room, no one shot at me, nothing moved in the shadows, no footsteps shuffled over the ground. Where were these so-called soldiers, anyway? Maybe this was an elaborate hoax my trainer had cooked up to make me paranoid. Maybe there was no one here at all....

  Something small and oval dropped into the corridor from above, bounced once with a metallic click and came to rest near my claws. As I stared in confusion, there was a sudden deafening hiss, and white smoke erupted from the tiny object, spewing everywhere. I backed away, squinting, but the smoke had completely filled the aisle and I couldn’t see where I was going.

  Shots erupted overhead, and several blows struck me from all sides. As the smoke cleared, I looked up to see six humans standing atop the aisle, three on either side. They wore heavy tactical gear and ski masks, and carried large, very real-looking guns in their hands. My whole body was covered in red paint, dripping down my scales and spattering to the concrete. I cringed as the realization hit. I’d stood no chance against them. I’d walked right into their ambush, and if these were real St. George soldiers, I’d be blown to bits.

  “And you’re dead,” buzzed a familiar voice in my ear as the figures slipped away and vanished as quickly as they had appeared. “A very dismal start, I’m afraid. Let us hope you can turn this around, or we will be here all day. Two minutes!”

  A little daunted now, I hurried down another corridor, attempting to put as much distance between me and the six highly trained soldiers as I could.

  * * *

  Sometime later I crouched, exhausted, behind a stack of pallets, my sides heaving from the last little scuffle. I’d been running from the soldiers for what seemed like hours, and they always seemed one step ahead of me. I’d slip away from one only to be shot by another hiding atop the crates overhead. I’d enter a corridor to find it blocked by two soldiers, and when I turned to run, two more would appear behind me, boxing me in. I was almost completely covered in paint; it seeped between my scales and dripped to the floor when I moved, looking very much like blood. And each time I was hit, my trainer’s bored, smug voice would crackle in my ear, taunting me, telling me I had failed again, that I was dead.

  I had no idea how much time had passed from the last time I’d been shot. Minutes? Hours? I didn’t think it mattered, not with my sadistic instructor keeping track. Curling my tail around myself, I huddled in the dark corner, breathing as quietly as I could and hoping that maybe the “hide and hope they don’t notice you” method would allow me to survive long enough to get out of here.

  A small oval object sailed over the stack of crates, hit the wall and bounced toward me with a clink. I hissed and shot out of the corner before it could go off. Most of the projectiles lobbed at me had been smoke grenades, which, while I didn’t have to worry about things like smoke inhalation, made it very difficult to see in the tight corridors. Death by paint usually followed as I thrashed around in confusion. But the last grenade had exploded in a blinding burst of light, and the soldiers had pumped me full of rounds as I’d stood there, stunned. Not going through that again, thanks.

  I darted for another shadowy corner and ran into a bullet storm. The bastards were lying in wait right outside my hiding spot and had trapped me inside a funnel of death. Cringing, I closed my eyes and hunkered down as I was bathed in red paint, again.

  “Pathetic,” snarled a familiar, hated voice when the ambush was done and the soldiers had slipped back into the maze. “Let us pray that you are not ever hunted by the real soldiers of St. George, because your head would be mounted over their fireplace in no time. Two minutes!”

  Anger blazed, and my fraying temper finally snapped. With a snarl, I turned and lashed out at a pile of crates, ripping a huge chunk of wood from the boxes with my claws.

  All right, enough was enough! Why should I be the hunted? I was a freaking dragon. The apex predator, according to Talon. If survival meant not getting shot at all costs, maybe I should be the one doing the hunting.

  I crouched, then leaped atop one of the crate piles, landing as quietly as I could. The labyrinth spread out before me, looking much different from up top. All right, you bastards, I thought, lowering myself into a stalking position, my belly scales nearly brushing the crates. We’re changing the rules a bit. This time, I’m coming for you.

  I prowled along the top of the maze, keeping my body low and straight and my wings pressed to my back, all senses attuned for the sights, sounds and smell of my prey. Slithering over the narrow aisles, my steps light so my talons wouldn’t clack and give me away, I felt a savage, growing excitement. This felt natural, easy. The fear I’d had before disappeared, and everything seemed sharper, clearer, now that I was on the hunt. I could sense my enemies, lurking in the shadows and darkness, waiting for me. But now, they were the ones in danger.

  I caught a whiff of human ahead of me and froze, one claw suspended above the crates. Holding myself perfectly still, I watched a soldier creep along the top of the maze without seeing me, then drop silently into the narrow aisle below.

  Crouching even lower, my chin just a few inches from the wood, I stalked noiselessly to the place the soldier had dropped out of sight and peered over the edge. He stood almost directly below, his gaze and the muzzle of his gun pointed at the end of the corridor, where another two soldiers waited, I saw. None of them had noticed me.

  Hello, boys. I grinned, and felt my back haunches wriggle as I tensed to pounce. Payback’s a bitch.

  “Death from above!” I howled, leaping toward my opponents with talons and wings spread. The soldier jerked and looked up, just as I landed on him with a snarl, driving him to the cement. His helmeted head struck the back of a pallet and he lay there, dazed.

  The other two soldiers instantly whipped around and raised their guns. I roared, baring my fangs, and went for them, barely avoiding a paintball to the face as I lunged. Bounding toward the first soldier, I leaped sideways, catapulted off the wall to avoid the spray of bullets and drove my horned head into his chest, flinging him back several feet. He crashed into a stack of crates, which collapsed on top of him, and struggled to rise. The last soldier swiftly backed away as I spun on him, growling, and tensed to pounce.

  “Stop!”

  The command rang in my ear, but also directly in front of me, and I stumbled to a halt a lunge away from the last opponent. Shouldering the gun, the last soldier reached up and pulled off his helmet and mask, revealing Scary Talon Lady’s face in the dim light. I blinked in surprise and quickly stepped back.

  “Finally.” My trainer raked a hand through her hair, long golden strands falling down her back. Her acidic eyes regarded me over the hall. “About time, hatchling. I was wondering if the purpose for this exercise would ever penetrate that thick skull of yours. I was certain we’d be here until midnight, chasing you around the building, before you finally figured it out.”

  Confused, I shook my head. “You...you wanted me to attack,” I guessed. “To go on the offensive. That was the whole point, wasn’t it
?” My trainer raised a mocking eyebrow, and I scowled. “You weren’t going to let me quit until I started fighting back, no matter how long I survived down here.”

  She lowered the gun and nodded. “Exactly. Dragons are never prey, hatchling. Dragons are hunters. Even to the soldiers of St. George, we are deadly, intelligent, highly adaptable killers. We are not to be taken lightly. If you are ever trapped in a building with a soldier of St. George, his life should be in just as much danger, do you understand? Because you’ll be hunting him, as well. And one more thing...”

  Faster than thought, she raised the gun and fired it, point-blank, at my chest. The paint bullet exploded in a spray of crimson, making me flinch even though it didn’t hurt. My instructor smiled coldly.

  “Never hesitate to go in for the kill.”

  Garret

  Fifteen twenty-two, and still no Ember.

  I resisted the urge to check my watch again and leaned back in the hard booth seat, staring out at the parking lot. The orange smoothie I’d gotten in an effort to look normal sat melting on the edge of the table, condensation pooling around the foam cup. Around me, the small fast-food restaurant was fairly packed; people sat at tables or in booths, talking and laughing, while I sat quietly by myself and waited for a girl who might be a dragon.

  An ancient white Volkswagen with several surfboards strapped to the roof wheeled into the parking spot next to my Jeep, and Ember hopped out almost before the car stopped moving. All my senses went alert as the girl, dressed in shorts and a loose top with a bikini underneath, scurried up the walk and ducked through the glass doors.

  She spotted me almost instantly and hurried over, smiling. “Garret! Hey, sorry I’m late. I, uh, lost track of time. Thanks for waiting—were you here long?”