Rogue (6 page)

“I’ve never fired a gun before, Riley. I don’t even know if I could…shoot someone. Not for real. I’ve never killed anyone before.”

Riley’s lip curled in a hard smile. “Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to get over that, Firebrand,” he stated bluntly. “We might not be part of Talon anymore, but St. George doesn’t give a damn about that little fact. To them, all dragons are the same. Rogue, hatchling or Viper, it makes no difference to the Order. They’ll kill us regardless of faction or sympathies.” He lowered the gun, his gaze almost accusing. “This is still a war, but we aren’t just fighting one side anymore. Not only do we have to be on the lookout for St. George—Talon will be breathing down our necks, as well. We kind of got the shit end of both sticks, if you haven’t noticed by now.”

I blinked, stunned. I’d never heard Riley sound so bitter. Although, ever since we’d left Crescent Beach, he’d seemed…different. More serious and take-charge. This was not the cocky, insufferable, devil-may-care rogue I’d met before. He was not the mysterious lone rebel I’d thought he was, but the leader of an entire rogue underground, with who knew how many dragons and humans depending on him. I suspected now that the dragon I’d met in Crescent Beach had been putting on a show, a mask, the perfect identity for the current situation. I wondered, yet again, if the Riley I faced now was the real one.

At my silence, Riley gave me a weary, sympathetic look, his voice going softer.

“Sorry, Firebrand. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat like that. I know you’ve never killed anyone, and I don’t expect you to. Not tonight, anyway.” He sighed and raked his hair back. “I’ve just…seen a lot, you understand? From Talon and St. George. I’ve lost friends and hatchlings to both organizations, and some days it feels like I’m pushing a boulder up a never-ending cliff, and if I let up for one second, it’ll roll back and crush me.” His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened as he looked away. “One day it
will
roll back and crush me.”

His gaze flicked back to mine. “What I’m trying to say is, if you’re going to stand against Talon, you have to do whatever it takes to stay alive. And one day, that might involve shooting someone. Or incinerating them. Or tearing them apart. Yeah, it’s ugly, it’s messy and it’s not fair, but that’s the truth of it. This is our world, Firebrand. This is the world you live in now.” He held the gun out to me once more. “Unless you want to go back.”

I swallowed. “No,” I said, and reached out for the weapon, curling my fingers around the hard metal. “I’m not going back.” Riley tossed me a holster as well, and I slipped it around my shoulder, feeling the weight of the gun, cold and deadly, against my ribs. I hoped I would never have to use it.

“All right.” Riley shut the van and looked toward the distant base. I saw him take a short, furtive breath, as if steeling himself for what was to come. “I think we’re about ready. Just remember…” He shot a firm glare in my direction. “We do this my way. If I tell you to do something, don’t question it. Don’t even think about it. Just do it, understand?”

I nodded. Riley glanced at Wes, who watched him with the grave, resigned expression of someone who thought they might never see him again. “We’re going. If I give the word, get out and don’t look back. Wish us luck.”

“Luck?” Wes muttered, shaking his head. “You don’t need luck. You need a bloody miracle.”

And on that inspiring note, we started across the desert.

Riley

One mile to the gates of hell.

I shoved the thought away as I led Ember across the dusty plains, heading closer to that ominous glow looming ahead of us. Fear and second thoughts were dangerous now. This insane rescue was officially under way, and I had to focus on what was important; namely, getting us in and out without being discovered and gunned down. When I was a Basilisk, I’d been taught never to ask questions or think too hard about what I was doing. I didn’t need to know the
whys
, I just needed to complete the missions.

Of course, it was when I’d started asking questions that I’d realized I couldn’t be part of Talon anymore.

Ember walked behind me, silent in her black Viper’s outfit, gliding over the sand like a shadow. She made no noise, moving like a Basilisk herself, graceful and sure without even realizing it. Lilith had taught her well. The only thing she hadn’t taught her was the Vipers’ ruthlessness, that apathy toward killing that Vipers were known—and feared—for. I was glad of it, but at the same time, I knew it wouldn’t last. Not in our world. There was too much at stake. Too many factions that wanted us dead, too many people to try to protect. Eventually, the day would come when Ember would have to kill someone and when it did, she would have to make a choice as to what kind of dragon, and person, she really was. I just hoped it wouldn’t change her too drastically.

“You’re about two hundred yards from the fence.” Wes’s voice buzzed in my ear, courtesy of the wire I was wearing. Part of the package I’d picked up in L.A. “No security cameras as far as I can tell, but be careful.”

“Got it.”

We reached the perimeter fence, nothing heavy duty or unusual, just simple chain link topped with barbed wire. Signs reading Private Property and Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted hung from the links every thirty or so feet, but there was nothing to indicate that a heavily armed military compound lay beyond. St. George was nearly as good as Talon when it came to hiding in plain sight, as private armies were sort of frowned on by the United States government. The bases where the soldiers were housed used isolation and misdirection to stay off the radar of those that might take issue with a large number of armed fanatics squatting on US soil.

Good news for us: this base was counting on its remoteness to deter unwanted visitors, so the fence wasn’t well patrolled. Bad news for us: if they did start shooting, no one would ever hear it.

Ember crouched beside me, peering through the barrier. We’d approached the base from the north, giving the fence a wide berth as we circled around, and I could see a cluster of squat buildings about a thousand yards beyond the fence. The space between was dark and shadowy, but terrifyingly flat and open.

No turning back now.

Pulling out my wire cutters, I began snipping through the links, silent and methodical. Oddly enough, the familiar task helped calm my nerves; how many times had I done this before? Ember pressed close, her shoulder brushing mine, and my pulse leaped at the contact, but I didn’t stop until I’d cut a line just big enough for us to slip through.

“Stay close,” I murmured, replacing the cutters. “Remember, don’t do anything until I give the word.”

She nodded. Reaching down, I peeled back the steel curtain, motioned her through, then slipped in behind her. As we passed through, the fence gave a soft, metallic slither, echoing the chill running up my spine.

Okay, here we were, on St. George soil. Still in a crouch, I scanned the layout of the base, noting buildings, lights, how far the shadows extended. Ember waited beside me, patient and motionless, green eyes shining with resolve. I sensed no fear from her, only stubborn determination, a will to see this through no matter what, and squashed the flicker of both dread and pride.

“We’re in,” I whispered to Wes.

“All right.” I imagined furious typing on the other end. “Hang on, I’m trying to find the security system…there we go.” More silence followed, as Ember and I huddled at the fence line, gazing around warily. “Okay,” Wes muttered at last. “Looks like only headquarters and the armory actually have cameras. So you’re going to have to get inside before I can walk you through.”

“Got it,” I muttered back. “I’ll let you know when we’re in. Riley out.”

Staying low, we scurried across the open ground toward the buildings, keeping to where the shadows were thickest. It being the very dead of night, the compound was quiet; most soldiers were asleep, probably having to be up in a couple hours. I did spot a couple guards near the perimeter gate, but other than that the yard was deserted.

“It’s so quiet,” Ember whispered as we crouched behind a Hummer, maybe a hundred yards from the first set of buildings. “Just like you said. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah, but let’s not get cocky.” I nodded at the roof of the largest structure, straight ahead behind a clump of smaller buildings. “If this isn’t exciting enough for you, wait till we get inside. All it takes is for one alarm to go off, and the entire base will swarm out like we poked a stick down an ant nest. So stay on your toes, Firebrand. We’re not out of here yet.”

Her eyes flashed, but she nodded. We continued across the yard in silence, even more wary for hidden dangers and sudden patrols. The base remained quiet and still, but I stayed on high alert. Ember might think this was a walk in the park, but I knew how quickly things could turn. And if they did turn, our chances of getting out were slim to zilch.

As we drew close to the first row of buildings, creeping along the outer wall, the door in front of us swung open. Biting back a curse, I dived behind a corner, pressing myself against the wall, as Ember did the same. I felt the heat of her body against mine and squashed the impatient riling of my dragon as a pair humans paused at the bottom of the steps, talking in low, rough voices.

“Damn kitchen duty,” one growled, sounding sullen. “Of course, I’d have to pull it today. You going to the execution?”

“I dunno,” the other replied as Ember stiffened beside me. “It seems…kinda wrong, you know? I saw him in the South American raid, when he charged that damn adult lizard by himself. Kid’s completely fearless.”

“He’s a dragonlover.” The other soldier’s voice was cutting. “Did you not hear what he said at his trial? I personally can’t wait to see his guts sprayed all over the ground. Better than he deserves, if you ask me.”

They walked on, arguing now, their voices fading into the darkness. When they were gone, I blew out a quiet breath, slumping against the wall, then glanced at Ember.

Her face was white with horror and rage, her eyes glowing a bright, furious emerald in the shadows. Like she might Shift, here and now, and tear those two soldiers to pieces. Quickly, I put a hand on her arm, feeling it shake under my fingers, and leaned close. “Easy, Firebrand,” I whispered as my dragon tried pushing its way to the surface again. I shoved it back. “This is why we’re here. He’s not dead yet.”

Though that
was
the confirmation I needed. They were going to execute the soldier today, probably as soon as it was light outside. Not that I cared—I’d be more than happy if another St. George bastard kicked it—but that didn’t give us a lot of time to work with. If we were going to get him out, it had to be now. But Ember’s reaction to the news sent a flare of anger through my veins. Why did she care about this kid so much? He was just a human and, more important, he was St. George. I remembered the way she’d looked at him, the way she had danced with him, and my anger grew. Ember was a dragon; she had no business getting involved with a human. Once we rescued this bastard and were far enough from St. George that I could breathe again, I would show her exactly what it meant to be a dragon.

Ember took a deep breath and nodded. Carefully, we eased around the buildings, hugging the walls and shadows, inching steadily toward the large, two-story building near the center. We avoided the brightly lit front, of course, sidling along the back wall until we reached a small metal door.

Ember started forward, but I grabbed her arm, motioning to the camera mounted over the steps. We shrank back into the shadows again as I spoke into the mic. “Wes, we’re at the back door of the main building. No guards, but there is a camera up top and it looks like you need a key card to get in.”

“Hang on.” Wes fell silent while Ember and I pressed against the wall and waited. “Okay,” he muttered after a few seconds. “Just give me a minute to see if I can turn it off.”

As he was talking, a body suddenly came around the corner. A human, wearing normal clothes, his dark hair buzzed close. He jerked, startled, and for a split second the three of us gaped at each other in shock, before his muscles tensed, mouth opening to shout a warning.

And Ember lunged in, a black blur across my vision, hitting the soldier in the jaw right below the ear. The human’s head snapped to the side, and he collapsed as if all his bones had turned into string, sprawling facedown in the sand.

I breathed in slowly, as Ember blinked and stared wide-eyed at the fallen soldier, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done, either. My arms were shaking, adrenaline coursing through my veins. It had happened so quickly; I hadn’t even had time to move before the soldier was unconscious. And my reflexes weren’t slow by any means.

“Firebrand,” I breathed, and she looked at me, almost frightened. “That was…impressive. Where did you learn that?”

“I don’t know.” She backed away from the body, as if afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing something else. “I just… I saw him and…” Her eyes darkened, and she shook her head. “I don’t even remember what I did.”

Lilith’s training.
This was what the Vipers taught their
students—how to be fast, how to be quick and lethal, and to strike without thinking. To recognize a threat and take it out. Immediately.

“Riley.” Wes’s voice crackled in my ear, wary and anxious. “You okay? What’s going on?”

I shook myself. “Nothing,” I told him, moving toward the fallen soldier. Ember had had to silence him, no question, but we still had to deal with him. Last thing we needed was for him to wake up and alert the rest of the base. “Small problem. It’s been dealt with,” I continued, kneeling beside the human and reaching into a compartment on my belt. “How’s the unlocking the door part coming along?”

“What are you doing, Riley?” Ember asked suddenly, watching me with wary green eyes. “You…you’re not going to
kill
him, are you?”

I shook my head, showing her the plastic zip ties I pulled from my belt, though I found it a little ironic. Had Ember been a full Viper, I doubted this human would be alive. And I wasn’t going to snap his neck or slit his throat while he lay there, helpless. Even though I hated the bastards, and would gladly blast him to cinders if I had to, I wasn’t a killer. Not like them.

Wes’s voice continued to buzz in my ear. “I can get the door open,” he said as I pulled the soldier’s arms behind him and zip-tied his wrists together. “But if I start blacking out cameras, they might get suspicious. Best I can give you is a thirty-second feedback loop, but you’ll have to get inside before the feed goes normal again. Think you can do that?”

I gagged the human with the roll of duct tape in my belt, then heaved the unconscious body over my shoulder. He hung like a sack of potatoes—a heavy, well-muscled sack of potatoes. “Do it,” I grunted, staggering toward a Dumpster we’d crouched behind a moment ago. “Just give us fifteen seconds. Ember, get the cover, will you?”

She scurried to the Dumpster and pushed up the lid, releasing the stench of old milk, rotting things and decay. I probably shouldn’t have felt so spitefully pleased as I dropped the body between reeking sacks of garbage and closed the top, but I did.

At the bottom of the steps, we hung back in the shadows, watching the door and the camera up top. “Gimme a moment,” Wes muttered as I drummed my fingers against my knee, feeling highly exposed. Another soldier could come waltzing around the corner anytime. We might’ve gotten lucky once; twice would be pushing it. “All right,” Wes finally said. “In ten seconds, the camera will go off and the door will unlock. Both will happen almost simultaneously, so you’ll have to get up there fast. Ready?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, feeling Ember tense beside me.

“Then…go! Now!”

I burst forward and raced up the steps, not daring to look at the camera peering down at me with its soulless black eye. My fingers closed on the handle just as there was a soft beep, and the light above the key-card slit turned green. Wrenching open the door, I motioned Ember inside, then ducked over the threshold myself. The door closed, shutting behind us with a soft click that seemed to echo down the long, brightly lit corridor ahead.

We were inside St. George HQ.

Now the real fun began.