Shattered (2 page)

“Did you…?” she whispered, desperately trying to put two and two together. She wasn’t sure whether to be fascinated or horrified—or maybe a little of both. “Did you…heal me? With your blood?” It sounded insane, even as she was saying it out loud, but what other explanation could there be?

The creature didn’t answer, of course, though the corners of its mouth seemed to lift, as if in a crooked smile. Then it turned, loping through the underbrush and disappearing from view.

For a moment, Scarlet just sat there, frozen, too astounded to move. Then a wild idea struck her and she sprang into action, fumbling for her phone, her fingers trembling so wildly she could barely load up the video app. It took even more effort to hit record on the screen.

She scrambled out of her hideaway as fast as she could, spotting the creature now standing at the edge of the clearing, unfurling the most beautiful wings she’d ever seen, bright and shining in the moonlight—as if covered with actual emeralds.

As Scarlet held her breath, overwhelmed by the majesty of it all, the creature lifted its snout to the skies, effortlessly rising into the air and disappearing into the night. Scarlet watched it go, unable to speak. Unable to even move. Then she found herself running toward the spot it had stood, searching for some sign she hadn’t imagined everything.

But the monster was gone, leaving only trampled undergrowth behind.

Except…Scarlet looked down at her hands, still gripping the phone with white-knuckled fingers. Somehow she managed to press stop then load up the video. She was half-convinced there would be nothing on the recording, that the creature was some kind of ghost—or a magical being that couldn’t be captured by human photography.

But to her surprise, the video was intact, the creature’s image imprisoned on the screen. And as Scarlet watched the playback with growing awe, observing its breathtaking beauty, its impossible grace, she realized she could no longer call this a monster at all.

No. This, this was a dragon.

ROAR!

Trinity
spun
on
a
dime, her eyes locking on to the dragon hovering in the smoky sky above. It was huge and black with dull, soulless eyes, massive wings, and a spiky tail. A guttural hiss wound up its throat as its mouth creaked open, revealing a chasm of spiky teeth framing a molten core—aimed directly at her.

Oh hell no.

She
dove
to
the
side, somersaulting out of the line of fire. The street behind her exploded in flames, the tar bubbling in protest before melting into black sludge. The sudden heat drenched her body in sweat, her clothes now clinging as if she were in a wet T-shirt contest.

Instead
of
a
girl
at
the
end
of
the
world.

Sucking
in
a
breath, she dared to look back at the dragon. It had landed a few yards away, its fire extinguished, its jaws clamped shut. Summoning more heat for round two?

She
wasn’t about to stick around to find out.

She
took
off, lungs burning in protest as they vainly attempted to take in air thick with black smoke. The screams of those still able to scream rang through her head while the smell of roasting flesh tormented her nose. High above, menacing black shadows danced through the skies, all but eclipsing the sun.

There
were
so
many. They were surrounded. They were doomed.

They
were
all
doomed.

Yet
still
she
ran, forcing her feet to pound the pavement, one after another. She didn’t know why she bothered—why any of them bothered. Some kind of inane instinct for self-preservation, perhaps? Stupid. Pointless. But she kept running anyway.

Diving
into
a
nearby
alley, she tried each and every door, desperately seeking shelter from the terror in the skies. But it was no use; they were all closed; they were all locked. And she could feel the eyes of those behind the doors and windows looking down on her without a scrap of pity.

Here
in
the
Scorch, it was everyone for themselves.

Finally
the
alleyway
dead-ended at a solid brick wall too high to climb. As she stared up at it, dismay washing over her, a shadow crossed her vision. Slowly, she turned around, willing herself not to stumble as she prepared to stare death in the face.

The
dragon
before
her
was
ruby
red. As big as a house. Observing her with eager eyes as its tail lapped lazily from side to side behind it. As they faced off, a small, sadistic smile seemed to play at the corners of the creature’s mouth—as if daring her to even try to escape.

But
she
couldn’t. There was no place to run. No place to hide.

And, in the end, even the Fire Kissed would burn.

• • •

“Trinity, wake up, wake up!”

Trinity struggled, gasping for air, as rough arms shook her awake. She looked up, wild-eyed, unable to focus her gaze—still seeing the shadows of the deadly dragon wavering in her mind’s eye. It took her a moment to realize it was her grandpa leaning over her now, an anxious expression on his weathered face. She collapsed back onto her bed, her long, black hair fanning out around her as she sucked in a much-needed breath.

“Another bad one, huh?” Grandpa asked sympathetically, grabbing a hand towel from the side of the bed and using it to mop her sweaty brow.

She grimaced, nodding, as she tried to steady her still-racing pulse. The pounding in her head was slowly fading, but the nightmarish visuals didn’t seem as eager to leave. She glanced over at the travel alarm clock on her bedside table. Almost midnight.

She realized her grandpa was still looking at her worriedly. “Just like all the others,” she confessed. “The world on fire. Dragons swooping down from the skies. People being burned alive.” She shuddered, still hearing the screams echoing through her head, still smelling the revolting odor of charred flesh. “I mean, yeah, I know it’s only a dream. But when I’m in the middle of it, it all feels so real.”

Her mind flashed back to the locked doors, the suspicious eyes, the alleyway dead-ending—leaving her nowhere to go. The dragon staring her down, as if daring her to make a move.

“But it’s
not
real,” Grandpa reminded her in a firm voice. “Well, not anymore, anyway, thanks to you.” He gave her a proud, grandfatherly look, as if she’d achieved a perfect score on her SATs or something.

Instead of having saved the world from a dragon apocalypse, as the case might be.

She groaned. Sometimes it was hard to believe it had only been three months since this whole thing had started. Back then she’d been a normal teenage girl, living in a dusty, West Texas town where nothing much happened. At the time, her biggest worry had been her grandfather’s shaky financial situation and the risk of social services throwing her back into foster care—which, of course, were totally legit concerns.

But they were nothing compared to what she’d been forced to face since, after the fateful day her grandfather brought home the world’s last dragon egg. After their lives had been turned upside down and after Trinity had learned her true destiny.

“My little Fire Kissed,” Grandpa said affectionately. “The girl who saved the world.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I did have a little help, you know.”

Speaking of…she involuntarily glanced at the door, wondering if she’d woken Caleb or Connor with her screaming. The house they were currently squatting in wasn’t all that large, and while Caleb usually managed to sleep like the dead, his twin, the soldier in the family, preferred to rest with one eye open. And though Connor never spoke of it aloud, she knew he had nightmares too. She heard him sometimes, thrashing in bed and moaning loudly. It wasn’t surprising, she supposed. After all, while she was only conjuring up this post-dragon apocalyptic future in her own mind, it had once been his everyday reality.

Time travel, dragons, saving the world…it would give anyone bad dreams.

“Yes, well, I suppose every true heroine needs her sidekicks,” Grandpa admitted grudgingly, ruffling her hair. “But the bottom line remains the same. You, my dear, changed our future. You kept the dragon out of the government’s hands; you stopped the apocalypse. And now you can rest easy, knowing the world is safe.”

He set down the cloth and reached over to her bedside table, his slightly shaky hands winding up the small golden music box sitting on top of it. As he opened the lid, the tinkling sounds of Mozart began to fill the room and the little princess inside twirled merrily, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Trinity couldn’t help a small smile. Grandpa knew her mother’s music box always made her feel better. No matter what happened in life, no matter how chaotic things seemed, it was comforting to know that the princess would always be there for her, ready to dance away her troubles.

Oh, Mom, I hope you’ve found the same kind of peace.

Grandpa leaned down, pressing his papery lips to her forehead, then rose to his feet, giving her a small smile before heading back to his own bedroom, closing the door behind him. She watched him go then shifted her gaze to the ceiling, his words echoing through her mind as the music slowed with the clockwork.

You
can
rest
easy, knowing the world is safe.

She shook her head. At the moment, things felt anything but safe. They were still on the run, still fugitives from the law, still considered dangerous terrorists by Homeland Security—and most importantly, still harboring a hungry, hungry dragon that was getting bigger and hungrier every day.

It was really no wonder she couldn’t sleep.

Giving up, she slipped out of bed, sliding her feet into a pair of worn slippers before padding out of the barren space currently serving as her bedroom. There had been so many bedrooms over the last three months she didn’t even bother to decorate anymore. None could compete, anyway, with her real bedroom back in Old Oak Grove, its walls plastered with posters from her favorite video game,
Fields
of
Fantasy
. Unfortunately, video games were another thing of the past, with real life eclipsing any possible excitement virtual reality could hold.

As she tiptoed down the stairs, by habit she reached out for the light switch, only to be reminded there was no electricity in their latest squat—a small, Hill Country ranch house, a hundred or so miles from her hometown. Though she missed having electricity as much as any sixteen-year-old would, she knew she really couldn’t complain. This was, by far, the best place they’d come across to hide in during their time on the run. Unlike some of the past places, here everyone had their own bedrooms and Emberlyn was cozy and comfortable, sleeping in the adjacent barn.

Emberlyn. Emmy. She sighed deeply. What were they going to do about Emmy?

She thought back to the day of the dragon’s hatching. When the future still seemed promising and bright. The Dracken had promised to help her, to usher in a new race of dragons that would bring about a future filled with prosperity and health. Dragons had the power to heal people, they said, to sniff out natural resources, to divine water in the desert. They were going to save mankind.

It was only later that she learned that the Dracken hadn’t come back from the future to save the world but to destroy it in some kind of sick Noah’s Ark 2.0, using dragon fire instead of a flood. They’d barely escaped with their lives—and now she was stuck with a dragon and no idea what to do with her.

Not that she didn’t love the little—or not so little—dragon with all her heart. She was Emmy’s Fire Kissed. Her guardian and protector. Bonded together and sharing a common life force. Though Emmy had only been in her life for three short months, Trinity couldn’t imagine a world without her.

If only she would stop growing!

It had been easy to pledge to take care of a dragon the size of a small Chihuahua. But now Emmy was more like a fat Labrador, going on Great Dane. Connor and Caleb spoke of dragons as big as houses back in their time. How on earth were they going to hide her when she grew to full height?

Not to mention feed her. Thank goodness Grandpa was an experienced hunter and was able to provide daily deer to fill her stomach, supplemented by whatever road kill Caleb or Connor could collect. But the herds were thinning, and several days this week, they’d all come home empty-handed. Which meant soon they’d be forced to move again, to find another abandoned house or farm or ranch to hide the world’s last dragon in.

She shook her head. Rest easy? Yeah, right.

She reached into the kitchen cabinets after lighting the lantern, pulling out a box of cereal. No refrigeration meant no milk, but it was better than nothing. And maybe the carbs would at least make her—

“Ow!”

She jerked as, out of nowhere, a throbbing pain snaked up her arm.

What
the
hell?

It came again. A fierce sting, nearly taking her breath away. Hands shaking, she managed to yank up her sleeve, forcing herself to look down, a bit terrified as to what she’d find. Texas had its share of creepy crawlies, and being on the run meant no ER visit if a lonely scorpion or spider had decided to use her for target practice.

But there was no bite. Her skin was smooth, unmarred, cool to the touch.

And yet, it hurt like a mother…

She stepped nearer the light to make sure, her confusion mixing with fear. But while her arm still pulsed in pain, the skin remained unmarked. She pressed down gently with two fingers, her mind racing with possibilities. What would make her—

Could
it
be
Emmy?

She startled at the thought. It was one of the strange side effects of being bonded to a dragon. If Emmy suffered some kind of injury, she would feel it herself. That was the theory, anyway. But since it was more than a little difficult to harm a dragon using present-day technology, she hadn’t had a chance to experience this phantom pain for herself.

Had
something
happened
to
Emmy?

Stomach churning, she reached out to the dragon with her mind. Another benefit to being bonded: they could talk to one another without speaking—if they were in the same vicinity. In fact, there had been plenty of nights over the last few months when they’d both stayed up late, chatting from house to barn. Until her giggles got too loud and Grandpa had come in to scold her. Dragon sleepovers—so much awesome.

But now…

Are
you
there, Emmy?
she probed.
Are
you
okay?

She frowned, glancing down at her arm again. The pain had subsided a bit, from a piercing throb to a general ache. But still…

Emmy?
she tried again.
Can
you
hear
me?

The resounding silence sent a cold chill clawing up her spine.

“She’s probably sound asleep,” she tried to assure herself. “A deep sleep. That’s all.” But even as she said the words, she was already halfway out the door, heading toward the barn. Just in case.

It was a warm night with a full moon, the stars painting a sprawling portrait across the big Texas sky. It was beautiful—majestic—breathtaking even, and on another night Trinity might have taken time to stop and look up and appreciate it properly. But now her eyes were locked on to the barn doors as her quick steps ate up the distance between the buildings, her chest tightening.