Talon Page 71

Trying not to think about that, I held out a hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Ember looked confused. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” I muttered, leading her down the hall, past Tristan’s room and the kitchen, to the front door. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. My dad’s…kind of important,” I temporized. “He doesn’t call unless it’s an emergency.”

The lie felt sour on my tongue. We halted in the entrance, and I couldn’t stop my hand from reaching out, running my fingers through her hair. Maybe for the last time. “I’ll…call you later, okay?” I hoped that wasn’t a lie, too.

She leaned forward, gently touching her lips to mine, and I closed my eyes. “Talk to you soon,” she whispered, and slipped through the door. I watched her walk away, feeling a small part of me leave with her, than firmly shut the door on Ember Hill and a normal life.

Tristan was standing over the laptop when I came into his room, hovering inside the doorway. “St. George just contacted us,” he announced, his eyes glued to the computer screen. “We’re on a twentyfour hour alert. Apparently, they’re tracking a couple dragons that escaped a raid in Colorado, and they think they’re somewhere in Crescent Beach, possibly with the sleeper. They’re on their way now.

We have orders to join the team when they arrive, so until we hear from mission control, we’re on standby. So get ready to head out as soon as they give the word.” A shadow of a smile crossed the stern look on his face, and his dark eyes gleamed as he glanced up at me.

“Finally, some movement. I was half-afraid they’d forgotten we were here.”

I didn’t answer. Whirling from the desk, Tristan walked to his closet door, reached all the way to the back, and gently removed a long black case, setting it almost reverently on the bed. Clicking it open, he ran his fingers over the polished metal of his sniper rifle, his eyes never leaving the deadly weapon. “Enough with this sitting around,” he muttered, “staking out houses, and following teenagers down the beach. I was getting tired of it. It’s about time we got back to the war.”

Normally, I would’ve agreed. Before I came to Crescent Beach, the news of a raid, where there could likely be several dragons under one roof, would have made my heart race in excitement. Now, I was filled with disquiet, a faint unease that nagged at me and refused to settle. I’d never questioned orders before, never given our purpose a second thought. Before a certain redhead, I saw dragons as only one thing: monsters to be hunted down and slain.

Before Ember, everything was far less complicated.

“Garret.” Tristan’s voice was hard. I glanced at him warily, and he glared back. My partner had this uncanny ability to know exactly what I was thinking, even when I gave him nothing. “This is our job, partner,” he told me, his voice firm. “We both knew this was coming. Everything we’ve done here has led up to this.”

“I know,” I muttered.

“Then get ready, because the Order is on its way. And when they get here, you’d better have your priorities straight.”

“I know what I have to do,” I said flatly. “Nothing will change that.”

“Good,” Tristan nodded, and picked up his scope, peering down the lens. “Because we move out as soon as they arrive.”

I retreated to my room, reached under my bed, and pulled out a large black duffle bag. Yanking it open, I quickly changed into my battle dress; flame retardant suit, tactical fatigues, flak jacket, boots, gloves. My helmet and mask I left off for now, but when they did go on, no patch of skin would be left uncovered.

As I slipped my Glock into its thigh holster, I caught a glimpse of myself in the oval mirror above the dresser. A stark, cold-eyed soldier stared back at me, dressed for combat, for dealing death. It was a sudden, harsh reminder; this was who I was. The past few weeks had been a fantasy, a pleasant distraction. But it was time to return to the real world, and what I was trained for. I was a soldier of St.

George. My purpose was to kill.

Snatching my helmet from the bed, I returned to the kitchen, where Tristan had drawn all the blinds and was standing at the counter with the laptop. He had also changed into combat gear, and gave me a short nod as I came in.

“They’ve located the nest. Get ready. We move in tonight.”

Ember

After I left Garret’s apartment, I rode aimlessly for a while, my mind still a chaotic, swirling mess. Lexi had called me earlier, wanting to go surfing in the cove, but I knew I wasn’t clear-headed enough to tackle giant waves and would just end up getting pounded. Besides, Lexi would probably know something was up, and while she was great with human problems like boys and clothes and feelings, she could not help me with this.

I wished I could’ve talked to Garret, come totally clean and told him everything. After my training session and the atomic bomb Scary Talon Lady had dropped in my lap, I’d gone straight to his apartment, not really knowing what I would say, just that I had to see him.

That had been a mistake.

Meeting with Garret, stealing those kisses in his room, hearing his whispered confessions, made me realize how much I had to lose when the summer ended. I had thought it was just my freedom, but even that seemed to pale in comparison to losing Garret. He wasn’t just a cute human boy who could surf and play arcade games and take me to the carnival. This wasn’t a rebellious desire to show up my trainer, to experience human emotions because dragons weren’t supposed to have them. No, I really, truly wanted to be with him.

And the thought of him leaving, of never seeing him again, made my heart ache in a way I’d never felt before.

So now there were two black clouds hanging over my head, making me even crazier. Or, maybe it was just the one big cloud, and all my smaller issues stemmed from it. The suffocating, giant-ass cloud called Talon. Talon said humans were the inferior species. Talon forbade us from flying, or even changing into our real forms, without their permission. Talon sent an evil, sadistic trainer to make my life a living hell.

Talon wanted me to become a Viper.

I shivered, clenching the handlebars of the bike. Of all the factions and positions in the organization, I had never dreamed I would become a Viper. I knew I wasn’t big or strong enough for the Gilas, and I didn’t have the charm and grace to become a Chameleon.

After talking with Riley that afternoon on the pier, I was almost certain I was destined to become a Basilisk. Not ideal, but better than getting lumped with the Monitors, doing boring busy work for the rest of my life.

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