Shattered (23 page)

“Right.” Scarlet thought of her mother. How she could never recognize the monsters she let through her front door. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Now, not to rush you…” Caleb nodded to his bindings. “But we’re running a bit behind schedule here.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Mind made up, Scarlet started working on his right arm first. The rope was thick and drawn tight and she struggled to undo it. What she really needed were some scissors or, better yet, a knife. She looked around the room, desperately trying to find some tools to work with, but came up empty.

Suddenly she heard voices downstairs. A door, opening and closing. She looked up at Caleb. His face had drained of all color.

“Don’t stop!” he hissed. “Come on, Scarlet. Keep trying.”

She nodded, going back to her task. The rope had thankfully started to loosen just as she heard the footsteps on the stairs. “Pull your arm out,” she instructed. “Now!”

He didn’t need a second invitation. He yanked his hand through the loosened loop then turned to start working on the other side himself. But the rope was just as tight and the voices were getting closer.

“Get out,” Caleb said suddenly, stopping to look up at her. “Go out the window. I can take it from here.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she surprised herself by saying as she circled the bed to the other side. “It’ll be quicker if I do it.”

And it almost was. Ten more seconds and they both could have been climbing out the window to freedom. Instead, the door banged open behind her and a tall blond woman stepped through, flanked by two men in black suits and sunglasses and several of the Potentials, including Rashida herself. Scarlet froze, realizing she was totally busted.

“What are you doing?” Rashida cried, horrified, even though it was beyond obvious. “Are you trying to let him go?”

She made a threatening move toward Scarlet. But the blond woman held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. Rashida scowled but obeyed.

Scarlet watched, frozen, as the woman took a step toward her. Her face was ageless. Her eyes glowed like Caleb’s. Even more surprisingly, she didn’t look a bit angry about the intended jailbreak.

“Is this her?” she asked calmly, her voice sounding like the tinkling of Christmas bells. “Is this the one who Emberlyn came to rescue?”

Rashida nodded, still looking annoyed. “Yeah, this is Scarlet. She can speak to the dragon too. I’ve heard her do it. They’ve got some sort of connection or something.”

“Very nice,” the woman said in an approving voice. “Now if you don’t mind,” she added, leveling her gaze on Rashida, “we’d like to speak to these two alone.”

Rashida looked as if she did mind, very much indeed, but reluctantly obeyed, ushering her friends out the door and shutting it behind them. The woman waited for the door to click then turned to Scarlet, a slow smile spreading across her face. A smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Hello, Scarlet,” she said. “My name is Mara. And these two gentlemen are part of the organization called Homeland Security. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. We’ve been working to rescue the poor dragon from her captors for some time now. And we greatly appreciate any help you might be able to give us in the matter.”

Scarlet swallowed hard. Homeland Security? Like the guys who look for terrorists? The Dracken were working with them now? This did not seem good at all. Maybe she should have taken Caleb’s suggestion to get out while she still had a chance.

But how could she have just left him behind?

Mara turned to Caleb. “My dear, dear boy,” she cooed. “You’ve been quite the needle in the haystack, haven’t you? But here you are. Looking…” She trailed off, pursing her bow-shaped lips together. “Well, I can’t actually say you’re looking well, Caleb. In fact, to be honest, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen ten-week-old corpses in better shape.” She clucked her tongue pityingly. “Poor dear. You always were so hard on yourself.”

Caleb scowled, squeezing his free hand into a fist. “Go to hell.”

“And where, may I ask, is your little Fire Kissed friend?” Mara continued, ignoring him. “Has she abandoned you already? I suppose it only makes sense. Once she got what she needed, what reason would she have for hanging around someone like you?”

Caleb winced, as if her words struck too close to home. But he said nothing, only glared at the wall.

Mara’s pleasant expression hardened. Her eyes grew cold. “Fine,” she said in a clipped tone. “You want to cut to the chase? Then tell us where the dragon is.”

“Never.”

“Now, Caleb, be reasonable.”

He turned to face her. “Do you think I’m that stupid?” he demanded, his eyes flashing fire. “It’s bad enough you’ve got all these idiots fooled, now you’re conning the government as well? What did you promise them in return for letting you out of jail? A pretty little dragon, tied up in a bow, ready to burn down the world?” He shook his head. “Trust me, I would never in a million years tell you—”

“Cerrillos Road,” Mara interrupted, turning to one of the agents. “Fauna, New Mexico. Write that down.”

Caleb staggered as if he’d been struck. He stared at Mara, all his arrogance vanished from his face, leaving only pure, unadulterated terror behind. Scarlet felt a cold chill trip down her backside.

“How did you…?” he trailed off, as if unable to continue.

“Please,” Mara scoffed. “Did you really think you could hide Emmy’s whereabouts from me? In your condition? My dear, your brain has practically atrophied from all the time you’ve been spending in the Nether. Your walls of resistance are like Swiss cheese. A child could have reached in and plucked the information out.”

Caleb’s face had drained of all color. “But…”

Mara tsked sadly. “I’m sorry, but you did this to yourself. We all warned you about the dangers of the Nether. But you refused to listen.”

Caleb let out a soft moan, collapsing onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling, as if all the fight had been beaten out of him. Scarlet watched him with dismay. She didn’t understand half of what had just happened. But the end result seemed clear.

And now Mara and the government knew where to find Emmy.

“My poor, poor boy,” Mara said, her voice softening. “You suffer so much.” She walked over to the bed, looking down on him with pitying eyes. “But don’t worry. I can help take the pain away.”

She reached into her pocket, pulling something from its depths. Something blue and sparkling. Scarlet’s eyes widened. Was that a Nether gem?

“Here you go, my love,” Mara said sweetly, holding out the gem. “It’s time to let go of the pain. To forget all of this. To go see your dragon.”

She held it out to him. It glittered temptingly in her palm. Caleb sat up slowly, his dull eyes affixing to the gem. For a moment, Scarlet thought he would bat it away. Send it sprawling to the floor in one last display of strength and resistance. To prove to Mara he was stronger than she gave him credit for. That he wouldn’t give up without a fight.

Instead he opened his hand.

“No!” Scarlet cried, trying to dive for it. But the agents were too quick, grabbing her by the arms and dragging her out of reach. “Don’t do it, Caleb!” she cried. “You don’t need it! It’ll only make things worse!”

But even as she screamed, she knew in her heart it would do no good. After all, how many times had she said something similar to her brother? And had she ever once convinced him to change his mind?

Sure enough, Caleb only looked up at her with glassy eyes. “How could things get any worse?” he asked in a voice that sounded nothing like his own. He plucked the gem between his thumb and forefinger then slid it down his palm, closing his hand around it. “Good luck, Buttercup,” he said. Then, closing his eyes, he fell back onto the bed.

“No!” Scarlet cried. “Caleb, no!”

But it was too late. He was already gone.

Mara’s lips curled. “You, get him in the truck,” she barked at one of the agents. “And take this one too,” she added, motioning to Scarlet. “Bring them both back to headquarters and keep them locked up until I return.” Then she turned to the other guy. “You and I will mobilize a team and get us to Fauna before they move the dragon again.”

“No!” Scarlet cried, trying to fight her captors. But they were too strong. They started to drag her out of the room. “Please no!” But her words fell on deaf ears.

They brought her down the stairs and toward the military truck idling outside next to a luxurious BMW sedan. The Potentials all filed out behind them, surrounding the vehicle.

“Are we riding in the truck?” she heard one of them ask.

“How far is it to our new home?” chirped another eager voice.

“Will there be food to eat once we get there?”

“Will we all have our own beds?”

The
fools
, she thought wildly. These crazy fools still believed these people were here to help them.

“Silence!” Mara commanded, coming out the door. “We’re taking Caleb and the girl. We don’t have room for the rest of you. We’ll…have to come back,” she added after catching their faces. “Once we have the dragon. We’ll come back for you all. And everything will be as it was.” She smiled serenely, regaining her composure. “Stay strong, little ones,” she added as she slid gracefully into the BMW. “The Dracken will repay your loyalty.”

No
they
won’t!
Scarlet cried silently, directing all her thoughts to Rashida, pushing them as hard as she could. She didn’t know if she could do the same trick Caleb had done back in the house, but she realized she had to try all the same.

Don’t you see? They got what they wanted. They don’t need you anymore. They’re going to leave you here to die.

Suddenly she remembered what Caleb had told her. Trinity couldn’t save the Potentials because they’d blocked their minds against her. But Scarlet still had an open channel ready for broadcast.

She closed her eyes, gathering up the details from the vision Caleb had sent her. Of the poor, deformed dragons. Of Darius’s promise to destroy the world. She wrapped it up in her mind as if crumbling a piece of paper, then lobbed it in Rashida’s direction as hard as she could.

This
is
who
the
Dracken
really
are.

She opened her eyes. Rashida was staring straight at her, face pale, eyes large as saucers. For a moment she didn’t move. Then she turned and ran back into the house, the door slamming shut behind her. Had she gotten Scarlet’s message? Would she believe her now?

And in the end, would it do any good?

The agents closed up the truck, leaving Scarlet and the unconscious Caleb alone. A moment later, she heard the engine rev and the truck pulled away with them still trapped inside.

Hang
on, Caleb. I’m on my way.

Connor raced down the road, trying not to slip on the fresh dusting of snow, as his mind worked overtime to reconnect with his brother’s spark. Back at the hotel, he’d heard him—clear as if he were in the next room—his desperate voice begging Connor for help. But the voice had faded away as quickly as it had come, and by the time Connor had found his shoes and his coat, it was gone all together, leaving him only a vague idea of where his brother might be.

But it was still the best lead he’d had for the past two days.

Admittedly, there was a small part of Connor that had wanted to ignore his brother’s cry. A part lodged in the deep recesses of his brain that prickled with dark thoughts he’d never admit aloud. The part that whispered that it was his brother’s fault that Trinity had felt forced to strike out on her own. Forced Connor to renege on his promise to keep her and Emmy safe. If anything happened to her now, Connor would never be able to forgive his brother.

Or himself, for that matter, but that was a different story.

But at the end of the day, Caleb was his brother and he couldn’t just sit around if there was a possibility he was in danger. And so he ran through the town, over a bridge, down a road, across a freeway, until he came to a large billboard, cracked and faded and partially hidden by undergrowth.

Bella
Vista
Estates,
the billboard read.
Coming
2009.

Connor grimaced. They’d come across quite a few of these places while on the run. Even hid out in a couple of them. “Master planned communities,” Trinity’s grandpa had called them. Prefabricated suburbia tied up with a red ribbon and gifted to rural communities that didn’t want them and couldn’t afford them even if they did. It would have been advertised as the perfect oasis, complete with sparkling swimming pools, fancy tennis courts, and maybe even its own exclusive elementary school so the new residents’ children wouldn’t have to slum it with any country folk.

But then the housing market’s bubble had burst and investors had refused to go down with the ship, abandoning their half-built dream communities and leaving a graveyard of skeleton houses to haunt the land. By this point, he guessed most people would have forgotten Bella Vista Estates ever existed to begin with.

Which made it a perfect hideout.

Could Caleb have been hiding out here these last two days? Was that why he hadn’t been able to find him during his earlier searches? Connor pressed on, gingerly avoiding potholes and rusted-out construction equipment littering the unpaved roads. Reaching out with his mind, he could discern no sign of his brother. But there were others here, he realized. Quite a few actually. Maybe they would at least know where he had gone.

He kept walking, eventually reaching what must have once been designated as the neighborhood’s activity center, complete with an empty concrete pool beside a pair of net-less tennis courts, both ornamented with colorful graffiti. Connor scanned the cul-de-sac, his eyes falling on the solitary finished house at the very center. The model home.

Unlike the rest of the community, the windows of the model flickered with light, and Connor thought he caught a few dark shadows moving about inside. Definitely occupied, he decided. But who was living here? And would they know where his brother might have gone?

There was only one way to find out. Stepping lightly, he crept to a window, peering inside. The place was packed with teenagers, just hanging out, looking listless and bored. A few appeared to be crying. Not exactly the party of the century by any stretch of the imagination. He scanned the group, but he didn’t see his brother among them. Maybe he was in another room. Upstairs perhaps?

Connor debated just going to the front door and ringing the bell, but then reconsidered, remembering the fear he’d heard in his brother’s call for help. Not to mention Connor didn’t want to be recognized by any of these kids and reported to the authorities. He wasn’t sure if he’d been on any TV reports concerning Emmy, but Caleb certainly had been after going AWOL from his military gig, and Connor didn’t want to be mistaken for his twin.

He looked up to the second story, reachable by what appeared to be a semi-sturdy trellis. He headed over to it, carefully placing one foot and then the other into the rungs, then reaching up with his hands to pull himself higher. He wasn’t afraid of heights like Trinity was, but sweat still beaded his forehead as he made the climb. From time to time, he glanced down to the ground, half-afraid someone would exit the house and find him there in this very vulnerable position.

You’d better appreciate this, you duffer,
he thought to his brother as he struggled up another few rungs.
’Cause you certainly don’t deserve it.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached the house’s second story. Clinging to the trellis for a moment, he attempted to steady his pulse before trying to peer through the window. Unfortunately, the window in question was covered on the inside by a curtain and he couldn’t see through. Carefully he felt for the edge of the sill, wrapping a hand underneath it and pulling it up.

But before he could push back the curtain, cold metal pressed hard against his temple. “Stop right there,” commanded a female voice from inside the room. “Or I’ll jam this knife into your ear.”

Startled, Connor lost his grip, his foot slipping on the slick wood. He fell backward, tumbling away from the semi-security of the trellis, the ground below rushing to meet him.

“Caleb? Oh my God, are you okay?”

Connor looked up, his vision blurred from his fall. A somewhat familiar-looking Asian girl with blue braids was hovering over him, a concerned expression on her face. He struggled to sit up, his ankle protesting at the sudden movement. Great, he must have jarred it in the fall. It had been weak ever since he’d broken it as a child, falling off the roof the day his father was killed. Back then, the injury almost kept him out of the Academy.

Now it left him helpless, vulnerable, exposed.

Three other teens had reached him now, looking down at him with the same worry in their eyes. “Are you okay, mate?” a boy asked. “What are you doing back here anyway?”

“Did the Dracken send you?” added another girl. “Are you here to take us home?”

Connor shook his head, confused. What were they talking about? And how did they know about the Dracken? He squinted up at them, his mind racing. Then suddenly his eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the Potentials,” he realized aloud. The ones the Dracken had been training to become Dragon Guardians before he and Trinity had intervened. What were they doing out here in the middle of nowhere like this?

“That’s not Caleb, you morons. That’s the Dragon Hunter, his brother.”

Connor craned his neck to see behind the crowd. A black-haired girl stood in the second-story window, looking down on the scene, her arms crossed over her chest. Even from here he could see the glint of the knife still in her hand.

The other kids shrank back a bit, giving him space. Connor used this to his advantage, finally forcing himself to his feet, wincing a little as he put pressure on his ankle.

“Where’s my brother?” he demanded, looking up at the girl in the window. It was the one they called Rashida, he remembered. The one who had tried to kill Trinity and ordered the others to kill him. His hand reached for his weapon, ready to draw if need be, though he was admittedly rather outnumbered.

“Did the Dracken take Caleb?” he asked the rest of the kids when Rashida didn’t answer.

“They were supposed to take all of us,” piped up one of the younger children. She had purple and red hair and cheeks covered in a mixture of glitter and freckles. She couldn’t have been more than twelve years old. “That’s what Rashida said. That they would come and take us all back to the mall. And that they’d feed us and give us our old clothes back.” She sniffled. “We haven’t eaten much of anything in days.”

“Go inside, Noa,” Rashida commanded, coming through the front door, still holding the knife in her hand. She approached Connor, giving him a steely glare. “Look, your brother isn’t here, okay? So get lost.”

Connor ignored her, surveying the rest of the kids. Back at Dracken Headquarters, they had seemed like monsters, hungry for blood. They’d ruthlessly attacked him—a few had come close to killing him.

But now, standing in this suburban graveyard, in the light of the fading sun, they looked different somehow—smaller, less threatening. Lost, scared, alone.

They
were
supposed
to
take
all
of
us
, the girl—Noa—had claimed.

Had they all been left behind instead? Abandoned by the very people who had brought them together in the first place?

He wondered how they’d even survived this long without the Dracken protection they’d originally relied on. They were only kids, after all, and foreigners at that. Probably didn’t even have valid passports. They’d have no money—and no way to legally get any either. Of course they were all gifted—maybe they were using their gifts to convince people to give them what they needed. Though that, he realized, would be a brutal way to live. And they wouldn’t be able to sustain enough spark to keep it going long term—at least not without serious repercussions to their health.

He struggled with a stirring of pity. They might have been in bad straits, he reminded himself, but they were still the enemy. “So, what?” he said, turning back to Rashida. “You kidnapped my brother and handed him over to the Dracken?”

“Kidnapped?” Rashida repeated incredulously. “Please. I saved that worthless Netherhead’s life. He was out cold in an alley and about to be turned in to the police. We handed him over to the Dracken—as you put it—so they could help him deal with his…problem.” She leveled her eyes on him. “Since obviously no one else gave a damn about what happened to him.”

Connor stared at her, at first unable to speak as she effortlessly volleyed the blame back into his court. Was that really what had happened? Had Caleb been that close to being caught? He should have never let him walk out that motel door to begin with. Or he should have at least gone after him once he didn’t return right away. But no, he’d been selfish, wanting to spend time with Trinity. Essentially abandoning his own twin to make out with a girl.

Not exactly the stuff heroes were made of.

“Where did the Dracken take him?” he demanded. “And…” He regarded the lot of them suspiciously. “Why did they leave you behind?”

“They didn’t,” Rashida declared quickly. Too quickly, and Connor caught her eyes darting to the other members of the group with a nervousness that belied her words. She was putting on a strong face for the rest of them, he realized, but deep down she knew a different truth. “They just didn’t have enough…room for all of us in the truck. So they took Caleb and Scarlet and are coming back for the rest of us later.” She made a showy gesture of looking at her wrist, even though she wasn’t wearing a watch. “In fact, we expect them back at any moment now. So I suggest you take off, if you know what’s good for you.”

Connor’s heart panged, despite himself, at the fierceness flashing across her face, a desperate attempt to mask her blatant fear. She had obviously been acting as the group’s leader. The one who had somehow scraped things together to keep them all going these past few months. Most likely by promising them it would only be a temporary situation. That the Dracken would return. That they would take them back into the fold and everything would be like it once was.

At one point, she may have even believed that herself. But she didn’t anymore. That was clear.

Which meant maybe she’d finally be open to hearing another side to their story.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked Rashida in as gentle a voice as he could muster. “Alone?”

Rashida looked startled. Then worried. Then, at last, resigned. “Sure, I guess,” she replied before turning to the others. “Why don’t you guys go inside and start packing up?” she suggested. “So you’ll be ready when the Dracken come back.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” hedged the blond boy. He glared warily at Connor.

“Please,” Rashida scoffed. “I can take care of myself.” She held up her knife.

The boy still looked suspicious. Connor sighed and reached to his side to pull out his gun. He handed it, hilt side forward, to Rashida, praying his instincts were right about her. She accepted it wordlessly then turned to the boy and raised an eyebrow.

The boy shrugged, as if to say, “Your funeral,” then started ushering the other kids inside. Rashida watched them go, waiting for the last one to enter the house and close the door behind him. Then she turned to Connor. She gestured for him to follow her and they fell into step, walking side by side, until they reached the empty swimming pool. Rashida plopped herself down, hanging her legs off the side. Connor joined her.

“You know I could just kill you, right?” she asked, not looking at him. “I mean, if I wanted to.”

“If you wanted to, sure,” he said mildly. “But I don’t think you do.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

He turned to give her a steely look. “Because I’m the only one who can help you now and you know it.”

She squirmed, obviously uncomfortable. “As I said before, the Dracken are on their way and once they get here—”

“The Dracken aren’t coming,” Connor interrupted. “I know it and I think you know it too. They got what they wanted from you. And they’re not coming back.” He paused then added, “Ever.”

She didn’t answer, staring down into the bottom of the pool. Someone had written “Hope Floats” in scrawling red paint and it seemed to stare up at them mockingly.

“It’s funny,” she said after a long pause, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, “growing up I used to see places like these in books and magazines. I mean, real ones. Finished ones with sparkling pools and laughing children. I used to think they must be from another planet. Surely there was no way something this beautiful could exist in the same world I lived in each and every day.”