Rogue

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“For what it’s worth,” I said, holding his gaze, “I’m sorry.” He blinked, and I forced a faint smile. “Thanks…for having my back all this time.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “I always knew you’d get yourself killed by a dragon,” he muttered. “I just didn’t think it would be like this.” He gave a tiny snort and rolled his eyes. “You realize my next partner is going to feel completely inadequate taking the Perfect Soldier’s place, and will probably have a nervous breakdown that I’m going to have to deal with. So, thanks for that.”

“At least you’ll have something to remember me by.”

“Yeah.” The small grin faded. We watched each other for a tense, awkward moment, before Tristan St. Anthony stepped away.

“Take care, partner,” he said. No other words were needed. No goodbye, or see you later. We both knew there wouldn’t be a later.

“You, too.”

He turned and walked out the door.

* * *

“The court has reached a decision.”

I stood in the courtroom again as Fischer rose to his feet, addressing us all. I spared a quick glance at Martin and found that he was gazing at a spot over my head, his eyes blank.

“Garret Xavier Sebastian,” Fischer began, his voice brisk, “by unanimous decision, you have been found guilty of high treason against the Order of St. George. For your crimes, you will be executed by firing squad tomorrow at dawn. May God have mercy on your soul.”

Dante (#ulink_535e5f26-a104-575f-8a04-f572373c8b07)

Fifteenth floor and counting.

The elevator box was cold. Stark. A pithy tune played somewhere overhead, tinny and faint. Mirrored walls surrounded us, blurred images staring back, showing a man in a gray suit and tie, and a teen standing at his shoulder, hands folded before him. I observed my reflection with the practiced cool detachment my trainer insisted upon. My new black suit was perfectly tailored, not a thread out of place, my crimson hair cut short and styled appropriately. A red silk tie was tucked neatly into my suit jacket, my shoes were polished to a dark sheen and the large gold Rolex was a cool, heavy band around my wrist. I didn’t look like that human boy from Crescent Beach, in shorts and a tank top, his longish hair messy and windblown. I didn’t look like a teen without a care in the world. No, I had completed assimilation. I’d proven myself, to Talon and the organization. I’d passed all my tests and confirmed that I could be trusted, that I cared about the survival of our race above all else.

I wished my sister had done the same. Because of her, our future was in question. Because of her, I didn’t know what Talon wanted from me now.

On the thirtieth floor, the elevator stopped, and the doors slid back with barely a hiss. I stepped into a magnificent lobby tiled in red and gold, my shoes clicking against the floor and echoing into the vast space above us. I gazed around, taking it in, smiling to myself. It was everything I’d imagined, everything I’d hoped Talon would be. Which was good, because I had plans for it all.

One day, I’ll be running this place.

My trainer, who’d told me to call him Mr. Smith at the beginning of my education, led me into the room, then turned to me with a smile. Unlike some dragons whose smiles seemed forced, his was warm and inviting and looked completely genuine, if you didn’t notice the cool impassiveness in his eyes.

“Ready?”

“Of course,” I said, trying not to appear nervous. Unfortunately, Mr. Smith could sense fear and tension like a shark sensed blood, for his eyes hardened even as his smile grew broader.

“Relax, Dante,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. It was meant to be comforting, but there was no warmth in the gesture. I’d learned enough to realize that all his overtures were empty; he’d taught me that himself. You didn’t have to believe what you were saying; you just had to make others believe that you cared. “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, sir,” I told him, determined to show nothing but cool confidence. A stark contrast to the twisting bundle of nerves in my stomach. “I know why I’m here. And I know what I have to do.”

He squeezed my shoulder and, even though I knew better, I relaxed. We turned, and I followed him down a narrow hallway lined with office doors, around a corner and finally to a single large door at the end of the hall. A simple gold sign hung against the painted wood: A. R. Roth.

My stomach cartwheeled again. Mr. Roth was one of

Talon’s senior vice presidents. One of the dragons who, while not so far up the chain that he was in contact with the Elder Wyrm itself, was pretty darn close. And he wanted to talk to me. Probably about Ember and what they planned to do about her.

Ember. I felt a brief stab of anger and fear for my wayward twin; anger that she would be so stubborn, so rebellious and ungrateful, that she would turn her back on her own kind—the organization that had raised us—to run off with a known traitor, consequences be damned. Fear of what those consequences could be. Under normal circumstances, a Viper, one of Talon’s fearsome assassins, would be dispatched to deal with a dragon who went rogue. It was harsh but necessary. Rogue dragons were unstable and dangerous, and they put the survival of our race in jeopardy. Without Talon’s structure, a rogue could accidentally, or even purposefully, reveal our existence to the humans, and that would spell disaster for us all. The human world could never know that dragons walked among them; their instinctive fear of monsters and the unknown would overtake them, just as it had hundreds of years ago, and we’d be driven toward extinction again.

I knew the measures Talon had to take against rogues were necessary. Though the loss of any dragon was a heavy blow to us all, those who refused to align themselves with the organization had already chosen their path, proven their disloyalty. They had to be put down. I understood. I wasn’t going to argue that.

But Ember wasn’t a traitor. She had been misled, deceived, by that rogue dragon. She’d always been hotheaded, gullible, and he had fed her a tangle of lies, turning her against Talon, her own race…and me. He was at fault for her disappearance. Ember had always had…problems…with authority, but she’d been able to see reason and listen to the truth until she met the rogue.

I clenched my jaw. If she just returned to the organization, she would realize her mistake. I would make her see the truth: that the rogues were dangerous, that Talon had our best interests at heart and that the only way to survive in a world of humans was to work together. Ut onimous sergimus. As one, we rise. She’d believed that, once.

I had never lost sight of it.

We stepped through the door frame into a cold, stark office. One entire wall was made up of windows, and through the glass, the city of Los Angeles stretched on to the distant mountains, towers and skyscrapers glinting in the sun.

“Mr. Roth,” said Mr. Smith, ushering me forward, “this is Dante Hill.”

A man rose from behind a large black desk to greet us, smiling as he stepped forward with a hand outstretched. He wore a navy blue suit and a watch that was even more impressive than mine, and a gold-capped pen glinted in a breast pocket. His dark hair had been cropped into short spikes, and his even darker eyes swept over me critically, even as he took my hand in both of his, nearly crushing my fingers in a grip of steel.

“Dante Hill! Pleasure to meet you.” He squeezed my hand, and I bit down a whimper, smiling through the pain. “How was your trip up?”

“Fine, sir,” I replied, relieved as he loosened his viselike grip and stepped away. Talon had sent a car to take us from Crescent Beach to Los Angeles, but the drive had been far from relaxing, with my trainer drilling me on company policies, protocol and how to act in front of the regional vice president. I was an insignificant hatchling, meeting with an elder who was likely several hundred years old. First impressions were crucial. And a terrible faux pas was, of course, to complain in the presence of Talon’s executives, especially if it was about the organization. “It was so smooth, I barely noticed the drive.”

“Wonderful, wonderful.” He nodded and gestured to the plush leather chair sitting in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat. Can I have my assistant get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you, sir,” I said, knowing the drill. “I’m all right.” I sat carefully in one of the chairs, feeling myself sink into the cool leather, careful not to slouch. Mr. Smith did the same and crossed his legs as Mr. Roth returned around his desk and beamed at me.

“So, Mr. Hill. Let’s not beat around the bush.” Mr. Roth clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and smiled over the surface. As I’d been taught, I politely dropped my gaze so I wouldn’t be staring right into his eyes. Another social gaffe, and a very dangerous one: holding the stare of another dragon, particularly a male, was a blatant challenge or threat. In ancient times, the challenge between two alpha drakes would be settled via personal combat, with the contenders ripping, biting and slashing each other, until one of them either fled in defeat or was killed. Nowadays, two rival dragons obviously couldn’t throw down in the middle of the city, but there were a thousand other ways to destroy a competitor without getting your claws dirty. Which was good, because that was something I could excel at.

“Your sister,” Mr. Roth said, making my insides clench, “has gone rogue.” He observed my reaction carefully; I kept my face neutral, showing no anger, surprise, sorrow, shock—nothing that would be considered a weakness. After a brief pause, Mr. Roth continued, “Ember Hill is now a traitor in the eyes of Talon, something we take very seriously here. I am sure you know our policy on rogues, but I have heard the organization wishes you to be in charge of retrieving her, Mr. Hill.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, careful not to sound overeager. “Whatever it takes to bring her back, whatever you need me to do, I’m your man.”

Mr. Roth raised an eyebrow.

“And yet, some have called into question your own loyalty, both to Talon and our cause. As the brother of a known traitor, we worry that your motivations might be…tainted.” He offered a smile, even as his eyes stayed hard and cold. “So, I fear I must ask. Can we trust you, Mr. Hill?”

I smiled. “Sir,” I began, as clearly and confidently as I could. “I know my sister. Ember and I have always had…

different opinions, when it came to the organization. I know she can be reckless and stubborn, and that she has a slight problem with authority.” A tiny snort from Mr. Smith was the only indicator of my massive understatement.

“But Ember isn’t a traitor,” I went on, feeling Mr. Roth’s hard gaze on me, assessing and critical. “She’s gullible and hotheaded, and I believe the rogue dragon Cobalt took advantage of this to get her to leave with him. He lied to her about the organization, and he lied to her about me, otherwise she would have never turned on us like this.”

Mr. Roth’s expression hadn’t changed. And neither had mine. “Ember tried to get me to come with her that night,” I admitted, seeing no indication of surprise from Mr. Roth. “She begged me to leave town with her and the rogue, but I knew I couldn’t do it. Not because of the consequences, but because I know my place.” I raised my chin slightly, not enough to challenge, just enough to state my cause. “Sir, my loyalty to Talon has never wavered. I don’t know why Talon is taking a less…direct approach to dealing with my sister, why the Elder Wyrm has chosen to spare her, but I do know that I am grateful. And I’ll do whatever it takes to bring Ember back so she can resume her place in Talon, where she belongs.”

Mr. Roth nodded.

“Excellent, Mr. Hill,” he said in a bright tone of voice. “That is exactly what we want to hear.” He picked up his desk phone and pressed a button on the machine. “Please send Ms. Anderson in,” he ordered into the speaker. I blinked, wondering who Ms. Anderson could be; I’d never met her before.

Abruptly, Mr. Roth stood, which prompted us to rise, too. “Your words are commendable, Mr. Hill,” the VP said, walking around to stand beside us. “Therefore, Talon is prepared to give you the best possible resources to locate and bring back your sister. In a moment, you’ll be shown to your new office, but for now, there is someone I want you to meet.”

I gave a pleasant nod, though my mind was spinning. New office? And the best resources possible to find her? I was pleased, of course. It seemed the organization had recognized my potential, but at the same time, I knew this was abnormal. Talon was huge; its reach spanned the globe, and it had countless other developments, mostly of the multimillion-dollar variety, to worry about. The disappearance of a single hatchling, rogue or not, was barely a blip on its radar. Why? Why are they going through all this trouble to find one hatchling? Ember, what have you done?

The office door clicked softly as it opened, and Mr. Roth raised a beckoning hand.

“Ah, Ms. Anderson. Please come in. Have you met Mr. Hill?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure,” said a lilting, musical voice. I turned to face the newcomer. My brows arched a bit, and I straightened quickly. Not a human; this was another dragon, and on top of that, a hatchling. Except for my sister, I’d only ever met with adult and senior dragons, but this girl looked just a year or two older than me. She was fair and slender, wearing a light blue skirt and heels and looking faintly uncomfortable in them. Like she’d rather be wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Her pale, almost silvery hair was styled atop her head, the sides pulled back to accent her high cheekbones, and the large, crystal-blue eyes stared straight ahead.

“This is Mist,” Mr. Roth introduced as she regarded me in silence, her gaze coolly remote. “Ms. Anderson, this is Mr. Hill. I expect the pair of you will get along famously.”

I hid my surprise. By introducing her by her first name, Roth was subtly informing her—informing all of us—that I was in charge. That, although she was slightly older and had probably been working here awhile, we were not equals. I hoped the other hatchling wouldn’t challenge my position, but Mist held out her hand as if this meeting was nothing out of the ordinary. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Hill,” she said, her voice as cool as her face. I took the offered hand with a wide smile.

“Mist.” I smiled, holding her gaze. “The pleasure is mine.”

“Ms. Anderson is one of our newer operatives,” Mr. Roth continued, seemingly unaware, or uncaring, of the tension as we sized each other up. “She comes highly recommended by her trainer, and we believe her skills are adequate for this situation. She will be aiding you in the search for our wayward Ember.

“Ms. Anderson,” Mr. Roth continued. “Would you please introduce Mr. Hill to the rest of his team and then have someone show him his office? I would take him myself, but I have a meeting with your trainer in a few minutes. Mr. Hill…” He turned to me. “You say you have your sister’s best interests at heart? Now is your chance to prove it. Bring her back to Talon, where she belongs. We will be keeping an eye on your progress.”

I nodded politely, though I knew the meaning behind those words. We’ll be watching you was the translation of that statement. Don’t disappoint us.

I won’t, I promised silently, and turned away.

As I followed Mist out of Mr. Roth’s office, I nearly ran into someone coming in, and I stepped aside with a hasty apology. The person I’d almost hit barely gave me a second glance as she passed, but my stomach dropped as I met her familiar poison-green eyes. Lilith, Talon’s elite Viper assassin, gave a short nod, recognizing me as well, before continuing into Mr. Roth’s office and closing the door behind her.

Apprehension flickered. Why is Lilith here? I thought. Is she…? I glanced at Mist, walking beside me with her eyes straight ahead. Is she Mist’s trainer? Is that why she’s here?

Wary now, I followed Mist into the elevator, keeping her in my side view as she pressed a button, still not looking at me. The doors slid shut, and the box began to move.

“So.” Mist’s voice echoed in the tiny space, startling me. I’d been expecting her to stay quiet and distant, not speaking unless absolutely necessary. I’d been about to break the silence myself and was surprised that she’d beat me to it. “You’re Dante Hill.”

Her voice was a challenge. It seemed we were going to butt heads after all, unless I could win her over. I could’ve used my position to demand obedience; Roth had put me in charge, after all, but resentful employees did not produce fast results. If I was going to find Ember quickly, I needed her on my side.

Smiling, I leaned against the wall and put my hands in my pockets, adopting a pose of easy nonchalance. “I am,” I agreed pleasantly. “Though you seem surprised, Mist. Let me guess—you expected me to be taller.”

Mist’s expression remained neutral. “A Chameleon in training,” she remarked, raising a slender eyebrow, “using humor to defuse a tense situation. Classic disarming technique.”

I kept the smile on my face. “Did it work?”

She blinked, and the other corner of her mouth twitched. “No,” she replied, though her eyes said differently. “But thank you for trying. I am, unfortunately, well versed in the various faction trainings and techniques. Your Chameleon charm is not going to work on me, I’m afraid.”

“Give it time.”

The elevator had passed the first floor. And still, we continued to descend. Past the basement, and the subbasement, going even deeper underground. “Do you have something against Chameleons?” I went on, wondering how many sublevels this place had. The glowing numbers above the door had stopped moving altogether.

“Not at all,” Mist replied. “Chameleons are a vital part of Talon. We all have our place.” Her piercing blue eyes remained brutally honest as she looked me over, assessing. “What I don’t like is having vital information kept from me, especially if I need it to do my job.”

I gave her a puzzled frown. “You think I’m hiding something from you? That’s a rather hasty conclusion. We haven’t known each other very long.”

“It’s not you, Mr. Hill.” Mist’s tone remained coolly polite. “But you must know that this situation with your sister is not normal. Why is Talon so interested in her? Cobalt I can

understand—he’s a dangerous fugitive who has caused real harm to the organization, and his actions cannot be ignored any longer. The rogue must be stopped, that is very clear.” Her piercing blue gaze sharpened, cutting into me. “But why is Talon so invested in bringing her back? Why go through all this trouble? Ember Hill is a hatchling who has done nothing for the organization.” Mist’s eyes narrowed even further. “Why is she so special?”

Her words were eerily familiar, as I heard my own suspicions parroted back at me. The situation with Ember wasn’t normal. Talon was expending considerable resources to return her to the organization when they could have sent out a Viper and been done with it. Even bringing me on was puzzling. Yes, I was her brother and the person who knew her best, but why bother? What made her—our—situation so special?

However, I wasn’t going to tell Mist that I shared her concerns. If I was going to bring Ember back, if I was going to make a future for us in Talon, then I had to appear fully in control of the situation at all times. I could not appear weak, or scared, or unsure, because Talon had no use for dragons who failed. I was not going to fail.

“I’m afraid I can’t give you the details,” I told Mist, who gave me a cold look but didn’t seem surprised. Talon shared information only if they thought it was necessary; that much at least she understood. “I would,” I went on, “if I were allowed. Just know that finding Ember is our top priority. The Elder Wyrm wishes that she be returned to the organization. The reasons are irrelevant.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. Mist watched me a moment longer, blue eyes appraising, then gave a tiny nod. “Of course,” she said, coolly professional once more, and motioned me into the hall. “This way, Mr. Hill. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.”

“Just call me Dante,” I invited, a tactic to gain her loyalty, and followed her down a long, brightly lit corridor past several offices, until we came to a door at the very end. Without hesitation, Mist pushed it back, and we went through.

I gazed around, impressed. The room beyond was enormous, a sprawling floor of desks, computers, flashing screens, and people. Aisles of long counters snaked their way across the room, each holding numerous computers with glassy-eyed humans sitting in front of them. The entire back wall was one enormous screen divided into numerous parts that projected a dozen images of maps, satellite feeds, security cams and more. The murmur of voices, ringing phones, buzzing computers and clicking keyboards all blended into a general cacophony of noise that flowed over me as I stepped through the door.

“This is our operating center,” Mist explained, leading me across the floor. All around us, humans hurried by or typed feverishly at their desks, avoiding eye contact. Mist continued as if she didn’t notice or care. “Talon has dozens of these centers all around the world. It’s where we monitor Talon’s assets, keep an eye on St. George movement and track persons of interest to the organization. We’re mostly in charge of the western region of the US, which is where we think your sister is right now.”

She stopped at a desk where two humans sat across from each other, a pair of large screens separating them. When Mist’s shadow fell over the desk, the overweight male and small bespectacled female looked up and gave her polite, fixed smiles, which she ignored.

“Mr. Davids and Ms. Kimura have been tasked with locating your sister,” Mist told me, not even looking at the two humans. “They’ve been trying to pinpoint her location ever since she left Crescent Beach. Unfortunately, they’ve been unable to find any trace of her, or Cobalt, unless something has changed in the time I’ve been gone?”

She looked down at the humans as she said this, and both of them went pale.

“No, ma’am,” the male said quickly. “So far, there have been no leads on Ember Hill or the rogue dragon Cobalt. We know they’re still in California somewhere, but other than that, we’ve been unable to get a lock on them.”

“Where have you been looking?” I asked, making all of them glance at me. Mist raised her eyebrows in amused—or annoyed—surprise, but I ignored her. The humans paused, obviously wondering who I was, some bossy kid in a business suit come strolling into their affairs. I kept the smile on my face and held their gazes with my own, polite but expectant, and after a moment, they looked away.

“We’ve been able to uncover a couple of Cobalt’s nests in the past,” the male informed me, quickly turning back to the screen. “His so-called ‘safe houses’ for rogue dragons. We’ve been monitoring those areas, hoping he might return to one of them to hide. Unfortunately, when one goes down, he often moves the rest, so we haven’t been able to pin him down.”

“What about his network?” I asked. “If he has so many safe houses, he has to be able to communicate with them somehow. Have you tried tracing messages back to his location?”

“Of course,” the other human said. “We’ve been trying to breach his security for years. But we’ve never been able to crack it. Whoever’s on the other side knows exactly what he’s doing to keep us out.”

“What about St. George?” I asked. “Do you have ways of tracking them?”

All three stared at me, varying degrees of confusion and doubt crossing their faces. “Yes,” the female human said slowly. “Of course, we have extensive systems for monitoring any movement made by the Order. But we already determined that the cell in Crescent Beach returned to their chapterhouse. When Ms. Hill and Cobalt fled town, their trail went cold, and St. George abandoned the search. There hasn’t been any movement from the Order for days, at least not in this region.”

“Do you know where this chapterhouse is?”

More puzzled looks. “We could probably find it,” the male human said, furrowing his brow. “But, like we said, St. George activity has been quiet the past few days. We believe trying to find Cobalt’s underground network is more important—”

“Stop looking for the safe houses,” I interrupted. “Ember won’t be there. If I know my sister at all, she won’t be content to sit and hide. You’re wasting your time looking for them.” I glanced at the huge screen on the far wall. “Find St. George,” I said, feeling Mist’s curious gaze on me. “Start looking for the Order. The chapterhouse is a good place to begin. Find it, and tell me when you do.”

The humans gaped at me, clearly dumbfounded but too polite to say anything. Mist, however, had no such reservations. “Why?” she asked is a low, cool voice. “You’re telling us to abandon the search for the rogue’s network when we have clear orders from Talon’s VP to locate it, and your sister. Do you know something we don’t, Mr. Hill?”

“No,” I said, keeping my gaze on the far wall, on one of the many maps spread across the screen. I didn’t have any concrete evidence. It was just a hunch, a suspicion, that had been plaguing me since before I left Crescent Beach. But my intuition was rarely wrong, and I’d learned to trust my gut, especially when it came to my sister. I only wished I had listened to it earlier. Much, much earlier.

“But there was…a human,” I went on, as they all stared at me like I’d gone insane. “One of the people I met in Crescent Beach. He was a friend of my sister’s. Really, I only saw him once or twice. But…there was always something about him, something that I didn’t like. I saw him fight, once—he was definitely trained. And he just showed up out of nowhere one day, always hanging around my sister.”

“That is not enough reason to suspect someone, Mr. Hill,” Mist said in her calm, logical voice. “You can’t expect us to drop everything and switch to a new plan of action simply because you have a hunch.”

“The night Ember left Crescent Beach,” I continued, ignoring that last statement, “she told me she was going to meet this human, alone. She said she wanted to tell him goodbye before she went rogue.” I paused, my chest tightening with the memory. “That was the last time I saw her.