Smoked (17 page)

Connor opened his eyes. It was dark. The middle of the night. Quiet. Everyone must have still been asleep. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was, what had happened. Then he reached up and touched his forehead, and it all came rushing back to him. The dragons. His attempt to sing them down. His brother attacking him, slamming a rock into his temple. Blackness crashing around him.

The
dragons.
His heart pounded in his chest.
What
had
happened
to
the
dragons?

He slid out from under his blanket, stifling a groan as his bare feet connected with icy-cold floor. He paused for a moment as the room spun. God, he felt as if he'd been run over by a truck. He glanced at the bed, tempted to lie back down. To close his eyes. To sleep away the pain.

Instead, he slipped out the door and into the hallway. When he passed Trinity's room, he stopped for a moment, staring at it wistfully. Things had been so strained between them, and now it would only get worse. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if, after tonight, she never spoke to him again. A heavy remorse blanketed his shoulders.

The
soft
spot
you
have
for
that
girl
will
be
the
death
of
you…and the rest of the world
, his father's voice jeered in his head.

And for once, the old man was right.

His mind flashed to little Salla back in his world, sucking on a messy pigtail as she looked up at him with awestruck eyes. She was counting on him. The world was counting on him, whether they knew it or not, and he was the only one who could save them now. He'd warned Trinity of the potential dangers time and time again. He'd begged her to take precautions. But she'd refused to believe him. Now things had come to the boiling point. And the time for hesitation was through.

He'd traveled two hundred years back in time to stop the dragon apocalypse, only to be thwarted at every turn. Now here was his chance, once and for all, to make things right.

For
you, Salla
, he thought.
And
for
you, Trinity, even if you'll never understand why.

He slipped outside. Closing his eyes, he drew in a breath, focusing his Hunter's gift on his prey. They were still alive. Nearby. Most likely holed up in that second hangar. But quiet—maybe asleep. Good. If all went well, perhaps they'd never even wake up. Walking around to the storage locker at the back of the terminal, he spun the combination dial and opened it. Then he reached for his gun-blade.

“What are you doing?”

He froze at the sound of the voice piercing the otherwise still air. Whirling around, he recognized none other than Rashida, dressed all in black, slipping through the darkness like a thief in the night.

“I thought you were, like, in a coma and locked up or something,” she said, giving him a skeptical look.

He swallowed hard. “I…had to go to the bathroom.”

Rashida raised an eyebrow. “Funny. And here I thought the bathrooms were inside.”

Fleck. What was he supposed to say now? “Yeah,” he stammered. “I just… I wanted some fresh air, I guess.” He started to back away, trying to conceal the gun-blade behind his back.

“Please. You expect me to believe that? After all we've been through? Come on, Connor. You know I'm not stupid. And I know you don't give a crap about fresh air. Admit it, Hunter. You're out here for one reason and one reason only.”

He pursed his lips, his pulse thrumming at his wrists. “Which is…?”

She met his gaze. “The same reason I am. To kill the dragons.”

Connor stared at her, for a moment rendered speechless. Then he grabbed her and dragged her under the shadow of the storage locker so as not to be caught by anyone else. His hands found her shoulders, and he shook her hard. “No,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You can't kill the dragons.”

“Well, I'm certainly not going to let them live,” Rashida shot back, grabbing his hands and wrenching them from her body. “I mean, did you see the black one? It almost killed poor Emmy. How can we just stand around and risk it happening again?” She scowled. “Besides, you're the one always going on and on about the looming dragon apocalypse. I actually thought you'd approve.”

Connor groaned. This was so not how he'd wanted this to go down. “Look, just go back to bed, okay?” he pleaded. “I'll take it from here. Trust me. This is what I trained for, after all. This is what I do.”

“Yeah, well, this is what
I
do when a dragon threatens my friend. Sorry, Connor, but you're not getting rid of me that easily.”

Connor let out a frustrated breath, shooting a look at the dark and quiet hangar. They were wasting precious time. And who knew how long it would take for someone else to wake up and start nosing around? Besides, he told himself, it was never a bad thing to have backup along. Rashida understood the dangers, and he wouldn't mind having her along to help.

“Fine,” he said, reaching back into the storage locker and tossing her his laser pistol. “Then let's do this. Let's end this—once and for all.”

A loud creak echoed through the hangar, startling Zavier awake. He opened one sleepy eye, then another, trying to focus on the crack of light that had appeared across the room. Was someone coming? He reached out, trying to feel for the sudden presence. Was it Scarlet-mom, returning for them at last? But no, it wasn't her. It wasn't Caleb-dad either. But there was definitely someone there.

A cold chill seemed to sweep over him, and the scales on his back bristled, though he wasn't sure why. Forcing himself to lie totally still, he watched the sliver of light widen. He wondered if he should wake his sister, who was sleeping soundly beside him. She was exhausted and weak from giving Caleb's brother her blood.
Poor
thing
, Zavier thought, his nostrils flaring a little.
He'd better appreciate her sacrifice.

He strained to listen again as a song began to weave through the air. No, not just any song, he considered, but perhaps the most beautiful song he'd ever heard. Against his better judgment, he found himself craning his neck forward, his ears pricking, desperate to catch each and every note. Beside him, he could feel his sister stirring; she must have heard it too.

He realized he'd risen to his feet without even being aware of doing so—as if his body had somehow taken over his conscious mind. He took a step forward, feeling himself drawn to the song. The hauntingly beautiful song.

He wanted to roll around in it, bathe in it, drown in it if he could. It was that good.

What
is
that?
he heard Zoe breathe softly beside him.
It's so…beautiful.

He glanced over; her eyes were open but had a glazed look to them, as if under a spell, and her mouth had curved into one of her sweet smiles. Not surprising—Zoe had always loved music. In fact, when Scarlet-mom had first moved them into the maintenance shack, she'd brought them this amazing device that would play thousands of songs at the touch of a pane of glass. Sometimes, he'd wake in the middle of the night to find Zoe lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in the music.

But none of those songs sounded quite like this one. This song—well, it was almost as if all the dragons in the Nether were lifting their voices into a single chorus.

It's him
, Zoe exclaimed suddenly.
I
can
feel
him! I can hear him!

Zavier frowned, the spell broken at her words.
Who?
he asked, confused.

The
boy
I
healed! Caleb-dad's brother.
Zoe turned to him, her eyes alive and dancing with delight.
He's awake! He's come to see me! Do you think he knows I cured him? Is this his way of thanking me? By singing me this beautiful song?
She sighed dreamily, taking another step forward.
I'm here, my blood brother. I'm right here.

Zavier frowned, her words seemed to itch at the back of his brain, though he couldn't pinpoint why. But something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

He looked back to Zoe only to realize she was no longer standing beside him. She had broken her chains again and was already halfway across the hangar, bounding happily toward the source of song. He frowned.

Zoe!
he tried, worry winding through his voice.
Come
back
here!

He's calling me, Zavier! He wants me to come to him! He wants to thank me for—

A shot rang out, the recoil of the rifle cutting through the song like a knife through hot butter. Dazed, it took Zavier a moment to understand what was going on.

Then he heard his sister's scream—a scream that blasted his ears with such force, he wondered if he would go deaf from it. Horrified, his eyes locked on her a few yards away, terror pounding at his insides. He could see Zoe standing perfectly still, staring off into the distance, a confused look on her face.

The
bullet
missed
her
, he told himself, trying desperately to quell his fear.
It
just
freaked
her
out. But it didn't get her. She's okay. She's totally okay.

Zoe, we have to get out of here. Before—

His sister let out another scream, this one louder and more piercing—so piercing it could probably break glass. Then she fell, hitting the ground with a loud crash. Zavier watched her for a moment, frozen in place, as she writhed and kicked her feet in the air. Then somehow, he found his feet and raced to her, heart in his throat, steam shooting from his nose. When he reached her, he let out a horrified gasp.

No. Zoe, no!

Blood, black as night, gushed from his sister's soft scale as her chest heaved up and down with effort. The very same scale she'd used to bring a boy back to consciousness only hours before, now the instrument in her death. Helpless, Zavier let out an alarmed wail, desperately pawing her exposed flank with his foot. His sister looked up at him with glassy eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.

I
thought
he
wanted
to
thank
me
, she whispered.

Zavier dropped to the ground, trying to lick her wound clean. But the blood was gushing, too fast, too furious. Try as he might, he couldn't stop the flow.

Please, Zoe. Don't leave me!
he begged, the tears rolling down his cheeks, splashing onto his sister and soaking her scales. Even as the words spilled from his mind, he knew it was a selfish request. But the idea of living a life without her…

Another shot rang out. Zavier grunted as it nicked one of his scales and ricocheted off, bouncing across the hangar before dropping to the ground. He turned to glare at it, hating how harmless it looked, just lying there now. A tiny piece of metal with the power to destroy his world. Suddenly, his sorrow turned to anger, and his blood boiled as he let out a loud, angry roar.

For a moment, Zoe's cloudy eyes cleared.
Go
, she told him.
You
must
get
of
here!

No!
he cried, shaking his head furiously.
I'm not going to just leave you here! To this…this…butcher.

His sister—his beautiful, sweet, gentle sister—looked up at him with her wide, pleading, purple eyes.
Please
, she begged.
I
can't leave this world without knowing you're safe. Go find Scarlet-mom. She will protect you.

He bristled, anger threatening to throttle him.
I
don't need anyone's protection.

But
she
may
need
yours.

And with that, her body failed her, her neck going limp, her head crashing to the floor. Zavier let out a horrified cry, nudging her with his snout, pleading for her to get up. But he knew, in his heart, she would never get up again. And as another bullet rang out, this time missing him by a hair, he stretched back to full height, unfurling his wings and pushing back on his hind legs, rising to the rooftop—free.

The song came again. But this time it only sounded like a funeral requiem, and he put his paws over his ears to block it out. At the same time, his eyes sought out the singer, prepared to seek his revenge.

It was then that he saw them—two humans at the edge of the hangar, hiding cowardly behind a blue plane. One had a gun with a long blade at the end. The ugly weapon that had stolen the life of his sister.

In a rage, Zavier opened his mouth, releasing the fireball that had been building up inside of him, torpedoing it straight toward his attackers. Then, not waiting to see if he'd hit his mark, he shot down toward them, flames still streaming as he flew. One of the humans dove out of the way, but the other fell, the fire consuming her as she writhed in agony. He grabbed her in his mouth—her screams nothing more than a lullaby as his teeth dug into her flesh. He shook her violently until she went limp. Then he spit her onto the ground, disgusted. He didn't have time to eat her, even if she deserved it.

Besides, the fire was burning inside of him again, and so he turned to seek out the other killer, his gaze darting around the room but coming up empty. He was gone. But Zavier would find him again. And he would make him pay.

He swallowed the fire back down—for now—not wanting to waste the heat. Then he turned again for one last look at his sister. His sweet, sweet sister, who only wanted to love and be loved in return. And yet instead…

They
will
not
get
away
with
this
, he vowed.
I
will
stay
alive
for
you, Zoe. I will avenge you. I will kill them all.