Smoked (3 page)

“If we pull this off, I'm buying everyone medals,” she declared as the elevator doors slid open. “Maybe even full-on trophies.”

They stepped out into a white hallway lined with doors fitted with barred windows. Thankfully there didn't seem to be any guards on duty—maybe they were all dealing with the music fans out front. She and Connor's gift to bend minds was vital to the mission, but it was also in limited supply. Too many minds and they'd end up out of spark. And they'd have to start taking out guards the old-fashioned way.

Trinity closed her eyes, seeking Scarlet again as they headed down the hall, Connor guiding her by the arm so she wouldn't walk into any walls. Halfway down the corridor, she opened her eyes, turning to one of the nondescript doors. She peered into the window.

“It's her,” she whispered to Connor. “At least I'm pretty sure it is.”

With a trembling hand, she reached for the door handle. But, of course, it was locked. She grabbed her walkie again. “Can you find the security system for the third floor?” she asked Nate. “We need to open cell door…” She scanned the area for a number. “Fourteen.”

“Hm,” Nate replied, and she could hear him typing furiously on the other end of the line, which couldn't have been easy to do from inside a box. “I don't think the doors unlock remotely. But I could cut power to the floor. It'd only be for a few seconds—before the emergency backup kicks on. So you'd have to move fast.”

“Okay,” she agreed, her eyes darting nervously down the hall. She didn't know how long they had left before the guards stationed on this floor returned. And she didn't want to be caught in the dark when they did. Drawing in a shaky breath, she wrapped her hand around the handle again. “I'm ready.”

“Wait!” Connor hissed. “I think someone's—”

The lights cut out before he could finish, leaving them in total darkness.

“Hey!” a voice cried out. “What the hell?”

Startled, Trin let out an involuntarily squeak. Connor grabbed her hand—squeezing it tight, a signal for her to keep still. Her heart slammed against her ribs—so loudly she was almost positive the man in the hallway would be able to hear it.

What
should
we
do?
she sent Connor silently.

You
get
that
door
open
, he returned.
I'll deal with this guy.

He let go of her hand, and she felt him move; he was sneaking down the hall in the direction of the shuffling sound at the other end. It was then that she remembered how good his eyesight was—from a lifetime of underground living—and felt a little better.

She turned back to the door, pushing down on the handle slowly, so it wouldn't make a noise and alert the man to their presence. Fortunately, Nate's trick seemed to have worked, and the door gave way easily. Unfortunately, it let out a loud groan when it did, despite her best efforts. A groan that echoed through the hallway.

“Who's there?” the man called out. “What do you think you're—”

Before he could finish, the emergency power kicked in, just as Nate had predicted, and the hall burst back into light. Trinity whirled around, just in time to catch sight of the guard—and Connor, who had managed to sneak up behind him. The Dragon Hunter slammed his laser pistol down onto the back of the man's head, and he crumpled to the floor on impact, out cold. Trinity let out a breath of relief. Guess the old-fashioned way was pretty effective too.

Connor toed the guard, making sure he was truly unconscious. Then he looked back up at Trin. “Please tell me you were able to open the door.”

She grinned, bowing low and presenting him with the now-open cell. Connor raced back to her, and together they stepped inside. The emergency lights had only come on in the hallway, so the interior of the cell was still pitch-black.

“Who's there?” a girl's terrified voice rang out through the darkness. “Please don't hurt me!”

Trinity's heart flipped in her chest. It was Scarlet. It was really her!

“Scarlet, it's me, Trinity,” she said, keeping her voice low, in case any more guards were lurking nearby. “Connor's with me. We're here to rescue you.”

Now that her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, she could see the outline of the prisoner. Scarlet looked thin. Much thinner than she'd been the last time Trinity had seen her. And as she took a step forward, wobbling on pencil-thin legs, Trinity felt an unexpected rush to her gut. The last six months, she'd been so preoccupied with what Emmy must be going through, she hadn't given much thought to Scarlet's well-being.

You
sent
her
here
, the nagging voice reminded her.
Whatever
she's suffered is all because of you.

“Trinity? Connor? Oh my God, is it really you?” Scarlet cried. “I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us.”

Trinity winced at the unintentional jab, the guilt again twisting in her gut. She wanted to protest—to explain they'd been trying desperately, this entire time, to stage this rescue. That she hadn't had one moment of rest since Emmy had been taken away. But what would that matter to Scarlet? Scarlet who had been stuck in a dark, dank cell, waiting for the rescue that had been promised and—up until this moment—not delivered.

And what about Emmy? Had her dragon given up on the idea of rescue too?

“Where's Emmy?” she demanded. “We need to—”

A booming sound drowned out the rest of her question, followed by a flash as the fluorescents flickered back on. Someone must have hit the override. Now, in better light, Trinity could clearly see Scarlet standing before them, dressed in a dirty blue jumpsuit and brown slippers. She was definitely skinnier—almost gaunt—and her arms and legs were covered in track marks and bruises. She was pale too, her copper skin now faded to beige, as if she'd lost a good deal of blood. And her once-shiny, thick hair was dull and matted.

Nausea rose in Trinity's throat. What horrors had this poor girl been through? And if this was how they'd treated her—a fellow human being—what more had been done to her dragon?

Scarlet blinked, as if trying to adjust her eyes to the sudden bright light. “They keep Emmy on the other side of the facility,” she told them. Her voice sounded hesitant. Strangely…reluctant. “I can take you there. I know the way.”

A rush of relief crashed over Trinity. She hadn't allowed herself to consider, until this moment, the very real possibility that Scarlet wouldn't know where Emmy was being held. Or that Emmy had already been moved somewhere else. Or—she shuddered—that Emmy wasn't even alive to be rescued at all.

No. She's alive
, she assured herself, her gut wrenching again.
She's alive and Scarlet's going to take you to her now. In just a few minutes, you'll see her again.

This had to work this time. It
had
to.

She shook herself. “Great,” she said, making her way to the door. “Then let's go.”

She stopped at the doorway, realizing Scarlet wasn't following. She turned back impatiently. “Well?” she asked. “Aren't you coming?”

Scarlet stared down at her feet, shifting her weight from left to right. “Yes. Of course,” she said in a slow voice. “But first, well, I think there's something you should know.”

Trinity frowned. They were wasting time they didn't have. And yet Scarlet didn't look as if she were willing to move until she'd had her say. “What is it?” she demanded. “What is it you think I should know?” Even as she asked, she wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

Scarlet suddenly looked up, her eyes meeting Trin's for the first time. Large, frightened eyes that sent a shiver tripping down Trinity's spine. Whatever she was about to say—well, it wasn't going to be good. Trinity swallowed hard. “Scarlet, what is it?”

“It's about Emmy.”

About Emmy?

Trinity bit her lower lip, her heart thudding violently in her chest. She could feel Connor's hand find her arm, trying to calm her down, but she shook it off. They didn't have time for this. The guards could realize they were here any second now and sound the alarm. “Scarlet, what is it? What should I know about Emmy?”

“It's just…well, I think you should prepare yourself. I don't want you to be shocked when you see her,” Scarlet said in a voice so low Trinity could barely make it out. “Emmy's…I don't know…different now.”

Cold dread gripped Trinity with icy fingers. Suddenly, it was all she could do to keep standing upright. “Different?” she managed to repeat. “What do you mean, different?”

Scarlet let out a slow sigh, still not moving from the spot they'd found her. “I don't know. Maybe it's best if you see it for yourself.”

“Well, I'd love to,” Trinity volleyed back before she could stop herself. “If you'd ever get around to showing us the way.”

Scarlet's face crumpled at this, and Trinity immediately regretted her harsh words. After all, Scarlet wasn't responsible for any of this mess. She'd only done what Trinity had asked her to do. And she'd suffered for it. By the looks of it, she'd suffered quite a bit.

“Sorry,” Trin amended quickly. “I'm just a little on edge right now. Go ahead. We'll be right behind you.”

Scarlet nodded, pushing past her to exit the cell and head down the hallway. Trinity and Connor followed close behind, stopping only to drag the unconscious guard into Scarlet's cell, closing the door behind him. They didn't need any evidence lying around for others to find.

“Come on,” Trinity urged. “We've got to hurry.”

They picked up their pace, making their way down the elevator, through the halls, trying to be as quiet as possible. For all they knew, there could be a hundred armed guards lying in wait around any corner, and Trin's adrenaline spiked at every turn.

Suddenly Nate's voice crackled over the walkie-talkie. “Are you guys almost done? It's getting pretty hairy down here. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stay in this box.”

“We're on our way to Emmy now,” Trin told him. “Just hang in there, okay?” She could feel Connor giving her a look but refused to turn to meet his eyes. No way was she going to bail now—not when they were so close. She reached for the walkie again. “If you need to get out, take the truck with you,” she told Nate. “We'll have Emmy fly us over to the rendezvous spot once we get her out, and we can regroup from there.”

“Roger that,” Nate said, sounding relieved. “See you on the flip side.”

Trin stuffed the walkie back in her pocket as they reached the end of the corridor, blocked by a heavy metal door. Scarlet grabbed Trinity's arm, stopping her in her tracks. “There,” she whispered. “That's the testing facility. That's where they keep her locked up.”

“Hey! What are you doing in here?”

The three of them whirled around at the sound of the gruff voice. A man dressed in a scientist's white lab coat stormed toward them, fury on his face. “Scarlet? Why aren't you in your cell? And who are these people?”

Crap. They were totally busted. Trinity shot a look at Connor, then stepped into the guy's path. “We're no one,” she told him, using her gift to push him as hard as she could. “No one at all. Maybe you should just walk away.”

Walk
away, walk away, walk away
, she chanted in her head. She could feel Connor, joining her in the push.
We
are
no
one. Just walk away.

But unlike the guard down at the loading dock, the scientist didn't seem phased by the attempted mind manipulation. Trinity creased her brow, worry threading through her. Some people were natural resisters—or maybe the Dracken, Mara, who was currently working with the government had trained him somehow.

“You can't be here,” the scientist continued. “This is a highly classified area. I'm going to have to call security.”

He stalked over to a control panel by the far wall, where an intercom blinked green. Trin watched in horror as he made to press the button that would bring on the reinforcements. Her heart pounded.

They'd be discovered.

They'd be caught.

They'd be killed.

They'd fail Emmy one last time…not to mention the rest of the world.

No. This time it had to work. It
had
to.

Trinity dove for Connor's pistol, grabbing it from the holster and squeezing the trigger as hard as she could.

The bullet sang true—torpedoing into the scientist's back—and he staggered backward, a crimson stain spreading across his lab coat at an alarming rate. Screaming, he made one last-ditch effort to reach the intercom, but Connor grabbed him, wrestling him away and shoving him to the ground. There, the man writhed in agony, gasping for breath as blood dripped from his mouth. With a grim face, Connor put him out of his misery.

Trinity turned away, her stomach wrenching, the gun falling from her hand and clattering to the floor. Connor scooped it up, stuffing it back in its holster. Then he grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her until he held her attention.

“You did what had to be done,” he told her in a gruff voice. “You very well might have just saved the world.”

She forced herself to nod, swallowing the bile that had risen to her throat. She didn't want Connor's worry for her to interfere with the mission. But as he turned away from her to concentrate on the door lock, she was forced to grab on to a nearby counter for support.

He was right, she tried to tell herself. This one death could lead to millions of lives saved. Millions of innocent lives. Emmy's life.

And yet—her stomach roiled again—could there have been another way? From the very start, from that first day Emmy's egg had arrived at the museum, there had been so much death. So much pain and suffering—so many on both sides lost. Was this scientist an evil man who deserved death? Or just an innocent researcher caught in the wrong place at the wrong time? Was he out to destroy the world? Or just put food on the table for his wife and kids?

She stifled a sob, remembering Connor's repeated mantra from the very beginning.
Sacrifice
one
to
save
the
world.
But how much more would have to be sacrificed—how much more blood would have to be spilled—before this world would actually be saved?

Connor rose from inspecting the man's pockets. “No key,” he said.

“They use fingerprint locks down here,” Scarlet squeaked out in a terrified voice. She'd retreated to the corner of the room, and Trinity found she couldn't meet her eyes. “You'll have to cut off his thumb.”

The nausea rose to Trinity's throat again. She tried to tell herself he was already dead—he didn't need thumbs anymore anyway—but when Connor knelt down to work, she found she couldn't watch the operation. Instead, she walked over to the door, peering through the window, trying to regulate her breathing.

The room inside was eerily familiar. Cages stacked from floor to ceiling, filled with mostly primates and pigs. Trinity couldn't help but think back to the vision she'd been shown by Caleb long ago, before Emmy had hatched from her shell—of her dragon, locked in a government cage.
This
government cage, she realized, the revulsion rising again. The very same place as the first time around.

Had they managed to change
any
history at all?

She thought about mentioning this little déjà vu to Connor, then bit her tongue instead. He didn't need any more reminders that this rescue mission was all too similar to the last one. Instead, she squinted into the room, focusing on the cage in the very back.

The giant cage. With a giant dragon inside of it.

She gasped. Was that really Emmy? The last time she'd seen her, Emmy had been the size of a Labrador retriever. Now she was the size of an elephant. In fact, the cage she was in could barely contain her massive girth.

“Emmy?” she whispered. “Is that really you?”

“There,” Connor announced, rising to his feet. He walked over to the door and pressed the severed digit against the sensor. A moment later, the LED light above the panel blinked green, followed by a loud click as the door unlocked.

Trinity didn't wait for a second invitation. She dove through the door, running toward Emmy as fast as she could—without bothering to check whether there was any more security inside. Her ears caught the cries of the room's other animal occupants, whooping and wailing and rattling their cages in protest of the strangers' presence, but she tuned them all out. At that very moment, nothing else in the world mattered but the dragon in front of her.

When she reached Emmy, her legs gave out from under her, and she dropped to her knees, unable this time to stop the vomit from rising to her throat as she looked at her dragon.

At what remained of her dragon.

Emmy. Beautiful Emmy—the gentlest, sweetest, kindest creature to ever live—now lay listlessly in her cage, her once brilliant-emerald flanks faded to a dull gray, checkerboarded with ugly scars and pus-filled sores. One wing hung oddly at her side, as if it had been broken and not set correctly. And her shorn claws were caked with sinew and blood.

But it was her eyes that were the most troubling. Those beautiful blue eyes that set Emmy apart from the rest of her kind, eyes that had once sparkled like so many sapphires. Now they were colorless, translucent, vacant. Empty eyes drained of all spark and life.

Suddenly Trinity had the urge to go kill that scientist all over again.

“Emmy!” she cried, hating the fact that she was forced to speak out loud in order for the dragon to hear her. “Emmy, it's me! Trinity! We're here to rescue you.”

Slowly, Emmy rolled over, a groan escaping her mouth, gagged by a metal binding, as if even this slight movement caused her pain. She stared at Trin dully, with absolutely no recognition in her eyes.

Oh God.

“Emmy, do you hear me? It's Trinity.” She turned to Scarlet, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. “Tell her it's me! Tell her we're here to rescue her.”

“I can tell her,” Scarlet replied, her voice once again filled with her earlier reluctance. “But to be honest, I'm not sure she'll care.”

Fury rose inside Trinity like lava from a volcano. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Scarlet looked away, her eyes filled with guilt. “I did try to warn you,” she said. “She's…different now. She's changed.” She looked back at Trinity. “I mean, don't take it personally. She's hasn't spoken to me for months now.”

Trinity's anger combusted into sheer horror. She looked from Scarlet to her dragon and then to Scarlet again. “You were supposed to protect her,” she whispered hoarsely, unable to stop the words spilling from her lips.
Oh,
Emmy. Poor, poor Emmy.
“That was the whole reason I sent you here. To keep Emmy safe!”

But even as she spoke the words, she realized how useless they were. How could Scarlet have protected Emmy in this place? She'd been a prisoner too.

No. This was all Trin's fault. She was the only one to blame.

I'm so sorry, Emmy. I should have gotten here sooner. Somehow. Someway.

Emmy had chosen her—not Scarlet, not anyone else in the world—to be her Fire Kissed. And long ago, they'd made a dragon/guardian pact to keep one another safe.

Trust
me, little one, I'll never let you fall.

Six months ago, Emmy had lived up to her end of the bargain, sacrificing her own happiness, her own safety, her own future, to save the boy Trinity loved—putting her life in jeopardy without a single pause for consideration.

And in return, Trinity had let her down. Allowed her to be captured and taken away. Now, here was her dragon—so filled with life and laughter once—just a shell of her former self. And it was all Trinity's fault.

Her mind swarmed with horrifying visions—of Emmy arriving at the lab, shivering and afraid. Of Scarlet trying her best to comfort her, promising her that the Fire Kissed was certainly on her way. Of Emmy's hopeful face fading to despair as the days passed slowly, with no sign of rescue. Until the dragon was curled up into a ball at the back of her cage, refusing to listen to any more of Scarlet's rescue fairy tales.

“I'm sorry,” Trin whispered, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. “I tried. I really did.”

But she hadn't tried hard enough. Emmy had depended on her, and she'd let the dragon down. In some ways, Trin was more to blame for this whole mess than the scientists themselves. And now that she was finally here, was it simply too late?

“Look, there will be time for apologies later,” Connor broke in, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Right now, we need to figure out how to get her out of here.”

Trinity watched, scarcely able to move, as he ran to the control panel, using the bloody thumb to unlock the cage. When the lock clicked, she grabbed the cell door with both hands, trying with all her strength to pull it open. At first, it didn't budge, and her heart flip-flopped with fear that they might have failed once again. But then Connor and Scarlet joined her efforts, and the three of them were able to widen it enough for Emmy to step through.

But Emmy didn't step through. Not even a glance to the open door to acknowledge her freedom.

“Come on, Emmy!” Trinity begged, yanking off the dragon's gag. “You're free. We need to get you out of here.”

But the dragon only blinked dully at her before lowering her head to the ground. Then she closed her eyes. She was so still that only the small twines of smoke drifting from her nostrils gave any clue she was even alive.