Smoked (27 page)

“Okay, we're on approach. Everyone stand by.”

Caleb barked the commands into his headset as he and his fellow dragon riders approached the squat, gray mall that had once served as a shopper's mecca, now transformed into an apocalyptic bunker. As they'd practiced, he laid a hand on Zavier's neck to get the dragon to slow and wait for the others to fall in line behind him. This had to be a synchronized effort if they had any chance of pulling it off.

Okay
, he pushed to his dragon.
We'll start the flyover now. Hold your fire until I give the signal. Then, you alert the others.

He glanced back at the team. They all looked excited but nervous—but mostly excited, he decided, and he couldn't blame them either. He was pretty excited himself. The whole time they'd been training, it all felt so right—as if he'd finally stumbled on what he'd been born to do. What all of them here, now, had been born to do.

He heard a noise and turned to see Scarlet and Zoe had come up to hover beside them. Scarlet grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. Caleb smiled back, returning the gesture. He hadn't wanted her to join in; it was a dangerous mission, and he couldn't bear the idea of her getting hurt. But of course, Scarlet and Zoe would have none of that “sexist male talk.” They were just as capable as the boys and weren't about to sit on the sidelines.

Caleb drew in a breath. “Okay,” he said into the headset again. “Let's start our initial flyover. We'll circle the mall clockwise, dropping a few firebombs as we go. Be careful with your aim though. We're just trying to lure them out at this point. We don't want to burn the place down or collapse it before we can get Emmy out.”

A chorus of “okays” and “roger thats” came through his earphones as everyone called out their assent. They were ready and raring to go, and there was no time like the present. Caleb dug his heels into Zavier's flanks. “Okay, boy. Let's rock and roll.”

His dragon didn't need a second invitation. He spread his wings and dove down, gliding on the air currents as if they were a slippery slide. As they approached the mall, his mouth creaked open, and he belched a small stream of fire in its direction. A moment later, the fire hit an abandoned car below, and it burst into flames. The other dragons followed suit, and soon there were small fires everywhere, lighting up the night sky as the dragons flew together around the mall.

After they completed their circle, they rendezvoused a short distance off, watching. Waiting. Summoning more heat for the next round. It was the Dracken's move now. And Caleb could only hope they took the bait.

At first, they saw nothing. Then…

“Look!” Scarlet cried. He followed her pointing finger to a loading dock at the farside of the mall. It was opening—a dark, gaping maw, like a giant beast yawning.

“Here they come!” he reported over his headset. “Stand tight. Do not break formation.”

And then they came, dark shadows torpedoing from their underground lair, filling the air with ear-splitting screams as they shot into the skies.

“Steady,” Caleb reminded them, noting a few of the dragons were looking a little too eager. “Let them come to us.”

He watched as the hybrids approached, cataloging them quickly. Like their predecessors, they were all malformed in some way—misshapen, ugly, some missing body parts, others with extra to spare. Some didn't even have wings or feet and were grotesquely squirming on their bellies out of the bulkhead like massive worms.

But what they lacked in majesty and beauty, they made up for in sheer size—more than twice the size of Zavier and Zoe and their siblings. And as they grew closer, Caleb recognized the icy coldness in each dragon's eyes. There was no mistaking it; these were true hybrids. And they were out for blood.

Let's do this already!
Zavier hissed.

Caleb raised his hand and started the countdown. “In three, two, one…”

The Potentials shouted a victory cry as their dragons let loose their flames, creating a tsunami of fire sweeping toward the other dragons, stopping them in their tracks. Then, at Caleb's command, they directed their beasts to fly up and over the fire, dive-bombing the hybrids before they could figure out what was going on, claws outstretched and mouths ready to bite and tear.

Then it was dragon on dragon, with humans holding on for dear life, using their mental gifts to push at the enemy in an attempt to disorient, confuse, and, if they were lucky, scare them into fleeing. It wasn't something that would work on every dragon, Caleb had warned, but if they could convince even a couple to bow out of the fight, it would be worth the effort. And sure enough, two dragons seemed to succumb almost immediately, taking off in the opposite direction, squawking madly. Caleb gestured for Scarlet and Zoe to go after them and ground them for good.

But just as he was admiring their defeat, Zavier bellowed in pain. A moment later, Caleb felt it too, thanks to the bond he and the dragon shared, and he whirled around, realizing one of the hybrids had somehow gotten behind them and was slashing at Zavier's tail with razor-sharp claws. It was a huge dragon, and whatever deformities it might have, Caleb couldn't see them from his position. He urged Zavier to turn around, to face the beast, but as they pivoted, the dragon made another swipe, this time slashing Zavier's scales, creating a huge gash in his side. Blood fountained from the wound, and Zavier staggered, dazed, for a moment forgetting to fly. Caleb gripped on tight as they started plummeting to earth, his own sides aching with phantom pain from his dragon's injury.

Fly, you overgrown marshmallow burner!
he screamed in Zavier's head, desperate to get him back in the game. He was
this
close
to passing out from his own agony at this point, so he could only imagine what his dragon was suffering.

Thankfully, Zavier seemed to hear this, his eyes shooting open, his claws slashing out at his enemy. But they'd dropped down too far, and he missed his mark, swiping only at empty air. The other dragon's lips curled, and his mouth opened, and Caleb winced as he caught sparks igniting from inside. There was no way Zavier was going to be able to dodge this in time.

Zavier seemed to realize this too. He dove toward the ground, landing hard and bucking his rider from his back. Caleb was thrown to the earth, hard, and saw stars seconds before the hybrid let loose his flames on his dragon.

Dragons could usually withstand a great deal of heat, Caleb knew, thanks to their heavy scales, but the open wound on Zavier's side provided no such protection, and the fire from the hybrid seared him hard, knocking him over with its force. As Caleb watched helplessly, his own body feeling as if it had caught fire, the dragon screamed in a mixture of pain and rage, clawing uselessly at the air as he attempted to rise. The hybrid landed in front of him, his beady eyes locking onto Zavier. Steam shot from his nostrils. He opened his mouth to fire again.

“No!” Caleb cried. He leapt to his feet, ignoring the pain, his brother's gun-blade in hand, shooting before he had time to line up the shot properly. The bullet hit the dragon's side, missing the sweet spot. But it did the trick all the same; the dragon left Zavier to turn on Caleb instead.

Fleck. Caleb raised the gun again, but it was useless until it recharged. In the meantime, he was a sitting duck. And there was no place to hide.

But just as the dragon was about to stomp him flat, Zavier jumped back into the fray, wrestling the dragon to the ground and biting him hard on the neck. Over and over, they tussled, each gaining then losing advantage. Caleb's gun was now recharged, but he couldn't get a clean shot. And Zavier was starting to tire.

Scarlet!
he cried.
I
need
you! Now!

And then, like angels from heaven, Scarlet and Zoe were there, dropping down from the sky, Zoe's claws outstretched. She grabbed the other dragon in her talons, ripping into his flanks, black blood spraying everywhere. Zavier took advantage, diving on top of him. Now, two against one, it didn't take long to finish him.

Once the dragon was down, Zavier staggered backward, dropping heavily to the ground. Zoe let out a worried whine, bounding over to him and nudging him with her nose. His flank was still badly burned, and the skin was still smoking. Caleb ran over to him, reaching into his bag to pull out the burn salve. Grabbing a handful, he spread it liberally over the wound, desperate to cool the burn. But though it seemed to provide Zavier a little pain relief, the dragon was not getting up.

Zavier! No, Zavier! Please!

Tears stung Caleb's eyes as he watched Zoe dance around her brother with marked agitation, her eyes wide and her mouth trembling. But there was nothing she could do. And there was still a battle to be won.

“Caleb, look!” Scarlet cried, pointing upward. He reluctantly turned his attention back to the skies. The other dragons were still fighting, locked in fierce battle. As he watched, two purple hybrids cornered Burgess and Trevor, savagely ripping at Burgess's wings. A moment later, dragon and rider were careening to the ground, Trevor's screams echoing through Caleb's headset at deafening volume. He ripped off the headset and turned to Scarlet.

“I'll stay with Zavier!” he cried. “You get him!”

Scarlet and Zoe leapt into the sky, diving under Trevor and catching him midair. Burgess, however, was not so lucky, crashing to the ground, writhing in pain. The two purples dropped on top of him, ripping into his flesh, blood pouring out like black water.

Zoe dropped to the earth, and Scarlet and Trevor hopped down. Then Zoe attacked the two dragons violently, biting, spitting, clawing.

“We need help down here!” Scarlet shouted into her headset.

A moment later, Aiko and Filia dove down, accompanied by Noa and Baby—surprising their enemies, taking them by the tails, grabbing them, and dragging them off Burgess. It was all the advantage the red dragon needed. He ripped into the first purple, pulling his head clean from his body. Zoe followed suit.

Caleb watched in awe. Gone was the gentle, sweet dragon they all knew. Now she was a warrior and she was determined to avenge her brother. Opening her mouth, she blasted the second dragon with fire, literally burning its eyes from its head. Now blind, the dragon stumbled around uselessly until Burgess, Zoe, and Filia put it out of its misery.

“Man, that sister of yours…” Caleb swore under his breath. The pain was starting to subside somewhat, and he was feeling a little better. “She's something else, isn't she?”

But Zavier didn't answer. And when Caleb looked down at his dragon, he realized in horror that he would never answer again.

Zavier was gone. And Caleb was dragonless once again.

But, he told himself as the tears sprung uninvited to his eyes, at least this time it wasn't a senseless murder. Zavier had died a hero. Sacrificed his life to the greater good. To save his brothers and sisters. To save the world.

“You did good, Sparky,” Caleb said, his voice choking on the words. “Now get some rest. You've earned it.”

As the dragon battle raged on outside, Trin crept through the back door of the mall, using the rope to climb down into the Dracken basement. The hallways were eerily dark and deserted, prompting worry to crawl through her gut. She had hoped a good number of the Dracken would be distracted by the fight going on outside, but to have everyone gone—well, that was just too lucky to be a good thing. Her pulse kicked up in concern, and she found her eyes darting to every corner, sensing a trap. But in the end, she had no choice, and she forced her feet to move forward.

She followed the route Caleb had described until she reached the passageway that dead-ended at a large, heavy door. Peering inside, she saw a huge open room: the dragon holding pen. Empty except… Her heart leapt as she spotted Emmy at the far end, penned up in a metal cage.

Emmy!
Trin sent.
We're here to rescue you. I'm outside your door.

The dragon's head jerked up. Her eyes turned to the door, and Trin let out a breath of relief, realizing she'd been heard.

Just
hang
on, Emmy. I'll be there in a—

Wait! Don't—

But it was too late. Trin had already pushed open the door—just as a dark figure stepped out of the shadows.

It was Darius.

The Dracken looked older than she remembered him. Whereas once his skin had been smooth and unshaven, now he was scarred and burned, and his hair was wild and unkempt. In fact, he looked as crazy on the outside, Trin thought, as he had been on the inside all along.

She squared her shoulders. “Step aside,” she told him, hoping to exude a confidence she didn't quite feel. “It's over. You've lost.”

He raised an eyebrow but stood his ground. Then, to Trinity's chagrin, he started to laugh. “Over?” he repeated. “Now that's a good one.”

She frowned, feeling her semblance of control fleeing, though she had no idea why. “Your dragons are dead,” she added. Maybe he didn't know what was happening outside. “Or they soon will be.”

“Those dragons were already dead before the fight began,” he said dismissively. “Mutated, sterile, insane. Your dragons did me a favor, putting them out of their misery.”

Trinity stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “But you were going to breed them with Emmy,” she blurted before she could stop herself.

“Was I?” he asked. “No, of course I wasn't,” he answered quickly. “Why would I want to create an army of hybrids when I can have the real thing?”

“What?”

“They were bait beasts, of course, nothing more,” he said with a sick smile. “A means to giving Emberlyn's children their first taste of blood. Now that they have it, they will always thirst for more.”

Trinity watched, confused, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He pressed at the screen and then held it out to her. There, she saw a live stream of the dragon fight going on outside the building.

“In one hour, this video will be uploaded to all the major news outlets around the world, and humanity will see for themselves, once and for all, what dragons are truly capable of,” he explained. “Then it's just a matter of time. The government will mobilize. The army will be sent in. The dragons will be forced to defend themselves, and the Scorch will begin all over again, despite your best efforts to the contrary.” He smiled smugly. It was all Trin could do not to punch him in the mouth.

“But…they're purebloods,” she protested, feeling all her arguments slipping through her fingers like so much sand. Had Mara been lying? Were they really hybrids after all? But no, they couldn't be. They wouldn't have taken to riders so easily…

Darius laughed. “Yes. Mara thought she was so smart, breeding purebloods instead of hybrids. But what she failed to see is that, in the end, it makes no difference. Dragons are dragons. And now these dragons know how to fight as a team when someone does them wrong. And in this world, my dear? There's always someone ready to do them wrong.”

Trinity felt her stomach fall. “No,” she said, though the fight had fled from her voice. “I don't believe it.”

“My dear, it doesn't matter what you believe. It doesn't matter what you try to do. Everything will lead to the same outcome.” He paused, a slow smile crossing his whiskered face. “After all, do you really think this is the first time this has happened?”

“What?”

Now his smile was wide as the Cheshire cat's. “I hate to break it to you, but everything you've been told thus far has been a lie. Well, not a lie, exactly. At one time, I suppose, there was a kernel of truth. But that was many cycles ago.”

Trinity started to feel faint. “What are you saying?”

“Don't you see? You're not the ones who started this apocalypse. You're the ones who keep it going. Two hundred years from now, we will send a new Connor and Caleb back in time to find you. The three of you will attempt to prevent the apocalypse, and instead, you will be the ones to make it happen.” He snorted. “Time and time again.”

“No.” She shook her head, unwilling to believe it. “It was you. You and your religious campaign to destroy the world.”

“You know, you really should learn not to take what people say at face value, Miss Foxx,” Darius scolded. “I mean, ‘religious campaign'? Come on. How cliché can you get?”

Trinity stared at him, for a moment not able to even speak as her world came crashing down all around her like a house of cards. She tried to tell herself he was lying. But something inside of her told her this was finally the truth.

“So then…why are you here?” she managed to ask, grasping at straws.

“Consider us…insurance. To make sure you and your group screw things up as royally as you always do. Though, to be fair, you never need much help. You're pretty capable of messing things up all by yourselves.”

Trinity swallowed hard, her stomach swimming with nausea. She thought of Connor. Of Caleb. Of her grandfather and her father and her mother and everyone else who had sacrificed so much to try to change the world. Could they really only be some part of a sick master plan?

“But why?” she choked out. “I mean, if not a religious campaign, why on earth would you want to bring about the apocalypse? Why would anyone want the world destroyed?”

“Because it allows us to live like kings,” he replied. “We made a deal with the Council a long time ago. They send their duff back in time, and we send ours, and together they bumble everything up so badly that it starts all over again. Each time we vary the game a bit, just for fun. Like this time we decided to send twins. That was my special added touch,” he added with a laugh. “I hope you enjoyed your little love triangle.”

Trinity's stomach roiled. She thought about Connor's constant concerns, about how everything was different yet still the basically same. He had no idea how right he'd been all along. She was only glad that he wasn't around to hear this. She imagined his devastation as he realized that his mission had been nothing more than a plot, that the Council he served was as evil and sick as his supposed enemy. She squeezed her hands into fists, the anger inside threatening to boil over. “You sick bastard,” she growled. “How can you just sit there and willingly allow the world to be destroyed?”

“Please. It won't be destroyed.” Darius snorted. “Well, the surface will take a beating. But we have been building beautiful cities underground for years now, ready to be sold to the highest bidder. Mankind will survive. We will profit. The world will keep spinning on its axis. All ends well.”

“But you won't be alive to enjoy it,” she growled. “Because this time, I'm not going to let you live. You make one move to escape, and I will gut you where you stand.”

Darius nodded, looking unperturbed. “I'm counting on it,” he said pleasantly. “If you don't, I'll be forced to do the job myself. And I find that's always far messier.”

“You…want to die?” She hated the despair in her voice, but she couldn't prevent it.

“Of course!” he cried. “Do you think I want to live through the Scorch? No. I will die now, and in about a hundred and sixty years, I will be reborn in my proper time line. By then, the Council will have rewarded my efforts with a trust fund of silver and a beautiful sky house. And this time,” he added, “was my last go around. I've played the part of the evil Dracken leader for five cycles running. Now I get to retire. In my next life, I can enjoy the fruits of my labor until I die peacefully in my bed.” He smiled slowly. “So I suggest you go ahead and do what you came to do.”

She stared at him, so sickened she could barely breathe. “No,” she said at last. “I'm not going to do it. Because I don't want you to die. I want you to live so you can see for yourself that this time we've foiled your plan, that we've stopped the apocalypse and you won't be getting your cozy little retirement plan when you respawn.”

To her chagrin, he only chuckled. “Come, come, my girl. You know that will never happen. As long as there are dragons in the world, the apocalypse will come. It's only a matter of time.” He shrugged. “But suit yourself. If you're not going to kill me, then I suggest you get on with rescuing your dragon. She's waiting for you, you know.”

And with that, he stepped aside, giving her a gallant bow as he allowed her to pass. She did, her legs feeling as if they were made of lead as she walked across the room to where Emmy was being held. Woodenly, she pulled open the cage door, which, of course, wasn't even locked. Because she was meant to free Emmy—just like she'd been meant to do everything else. Every choice she made, every conscious decision to try to save the world—the whole time, she'd been nothing but a puppet on a string, dancing.

But Emmy didn't know that. She didn't understand. She bounded forward, covering Trinity's face with slurpy kisses as she bounced up and down with glee. It was all Trinity could do not to throw up then and there, so sickened by the whole thing. But somehow she managed to hold herself in check. To smile at Emmy. To hug her back. It wasn't Emmy's fault, after all. She was as innocent a victim as the rest of them.

Oh, Fire Kissed
, Emmy cried joyously.
I
knew
you'd come for me. I never doubted it for a second.

“Of course I'd come for you,” Trin managed to say. “After all, we're destined, right?”

And it was true, she suddenly realized, but not in the way she had ever dreamed.