Page 55 of Talon

“Great,” she muttered darkly. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

I caught a tiny flash of color on her bare shoulder, a sliver of red that looked like dried blood. Only, it was too bright to be blood, and memories crowded my brain, making me wince with sympathy. “Oh, Firebrand.” I sighed, lightly touching the red splotch. “Soldiers and paintball guns, huh? That sucks.”

She jerked up, eyes widening. “You, too?”

“Yup.” Stepping beside her, I leaned back, resting my elbows on the railing. Ember watched me, green eyes awed and intense, burning the side of my face. “Only, mine were rubber bullets at first, which you wouldn’t think would hurt, but damn, they sting like a mother when they hit. They switched to paintball guns when some poor bastard got his eye put out.” I shook my head and gave her a rueful look. “Be thankful you were hatched after the new regime started. It’s only a little unbearable now.”

She wrinkled her nose and gazed back at the ocean. “So, what happens next?” she asked, kicking one ankle against the railing. “After this training is done? What are they planning for me when I’m finished?”

“I don’t know, Firebrand.” I hopped onto the railing beside her. “It depends, I guess, on what they have you slotted for. Every dragon has a place in the organization, and your initial training is to determine if you’ll excel at where they want to put you. Really, they’ve watched you since your hatching, trying to decide where you’ll fit. If you pass this stage, they’ll announce your faction placement, and then your training begins in earnest.” I snorted. “Course, they don’t tell you what you’re going to be until they deem you ready for it.”

“What were you?” Ember asked.

I looked at her. She gazed back, and my dragon stirred in response. “I was a Basilisk,” I said, and she furrowed her brow, clearly not familiar with that position. “A spy, basically,” I went on. “One of the prime factions Talon uses in the war with St. George.”

“I’ve never seen us at war.”

“We’re always at war with St. George, Firebrand.” I remembered those years, the years I was still with the organization, bloody and dark and terrible, and repressed a shiver. “Yes, much of Talon—the Chameleons, the Monitors and the Elder Wyrm’s council—never see the war. They hide deep within human society and don’t engage the soldiers of St. George if they can help it. They’re far too important to the organization to risk discovery. But Talon has elite agents they’ll sometimes send against St. George. Never in force, and never in an all-out assault. Our numbers are too small, and the humans in general would slaughter us if this ever became public. There’s just so damn many of them.

“But,” I continued as Ember listened in rapt fascination, not even caring that there were humans around, “Talon does have a number of trained operatives they send out, striking where they can, usually from shadow. I was one of them. Someone to gather information on the Order, sneak into their bases to steal data or sabotage equipment, discover which of their own agents weren’t loyal, basically act against Talon’s enemies.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Oh, it was.” I grinned. “I can’t remember the times I escaped St. George by the skin of my teeth. Took a few bullets, avoided an ambush, dodged a sniper attack, that sort of thing. Fun times.”

“Is that why you went rogue?”

The question took me by surprise, and I sobered quickly. Trust Ember to get to the heart of the matter. “No,” I replied, shaking my head. Memories flared up again, and I shoved them back. “It wasn’t St. George that made me run. It was Talon itself.”

She gazed at me, every bit of her attention focused like a hawk. “Why?”

My heartbeat picked up, and my mouth was suddenly dry. This was it, the perfect opportunity. I wouldn’t get a better chance. “Because, Firebrand—”

The phone shrilled loudly in my jacket pocket.

“Dammit.” Sliding off the rail to the deck, I pulled it out and gazed down at the number. Of course it was Wes; he was the only one, besides Ember, who had this number. “Hang on.” I sighed, moving a few feet away. “Lemme take this. I’ll be right back.”

“Wes,” I said cordially when I put the phone to my ear, “for your sake, you had better be halfway down a dragon’s throat right now, because otherwise I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Where the bloody hell are you?” Wes spat, making my gut squeeze tight. “Get back here right now. We’ve got another problem!”

I glanced at Ember, then hunched forward, lowering my voice. “What type of problem?”

“The type that has scales and claws and is sitting on our doorstep problem!”

“Shit.” I dragged a hand through my hair, cursing his timing. But this could definitely not be ignored. “I’ll be right there,” I said, and hung up, turning back to Ember.

She hopped from the railing and gazed up at me, concerned. “Problems at home?”

Dammit, I was so close.“Yeah,” I growled, resisting the urge to kick something. “I have to go. But this isn’t over, okay?” I stepped close, putting a hand on her arm. Inside, something flared, a rush of heat through my veins, nearly making me jump back. The same reaction my dragon instincts had had at the party, roaring to life. “I still want to talk to you,” I said as Ember’s cheeks flushed, as well, making me suspect she felt the same. “I have more information on Talon, and I think you’ll want to hear it. Promise you’ll meet me again.”

She stared back, unafraid. “When?”

“Soon.” It was more a promise to myself than to Ember, a claim that whatever this dire problem was, it wouldn’t keep me from her. I squeezed her arm and backed away, forcing a grin as I retreated. “Don’t worry, Firebrand. I’ll be around. See you soon.”

Ember

I watched Riley jog to his motorcycle, swing aboard and roar off down the street. Part of me wished I could go with him, longed to Shift and fly after the rogue, apocalyptic consequences be damned. My skin still surged from where he’d touched me, the dragon dancing all up and down my veins. She wanted Riley. Not in the way I missed Garret, or thought about him constantly. This was more...primal? Instinctive? I didn’t know the exact word, really, but one thing was for certain. My dragon wanted Riley; she almost ached for him. And she would not be ignored.

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