I took a deep, steadying breath, feeling my heart pound through my veins. “I don’t think you have the stomach for this,” I said, looking her right in the eye. “What’s more, I don’t think you want to do this. It takes a certain mind-set for this kind of work, and you’re not like that. Not the girl I’ve seen tonight, anyway.” Her brow furrowed just slightly, and I pressed forward. “You can walk away, Mist,” I said earnestly. “This doesn’t have to be your life. Talon doesn’t have to control it. Come with us, and I can show you how to be free.”
For just a moment, she hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. I leaned forward, ignoring the cuffs digging into my skin. “You know you don’t want to do this,” I cajoled, my voice gentle, and she scowled. “Mist, listen to me. You don’t belong with them. You’re resourceful, quick-thinking and one of the most intelligent dragons I’ve ever seen, hatchling or otherwise. Your talents are being wasted. Think of what we could do for our kind if Talon wasn’t in the picture. Cut me loose, and we can leave together.”
“You’re wrong,” Mist answered, and a steely note had entered her voice. Straightening, she narrowed her eyes to icy blue slits and pushed the cart back. “I am what Talon requires,” she said, all hesitation gone. “The organization entrusted me with this task, and I will not fail them. I need that information, but if you refuse to cooperate, then you leave me no choice.”
She grabbed the second needle from where it lay on the table, turned and plunged it into my neck. I jerked, clenching my jaw as my fingers fumbled further with the cuff of my sleeve and the thing I was trying to get at slid away. Mist injected the syringe’s contents into my veins and stepped back, replacing the needle on the table.
“What was that?” I growled.
“Sodium thiopental,” Mist said, wiping her hands on the towel. “Only, this is a special version, produced in Talon labs, specifically for our kind. Our scientists have been mixing science and magic to great effect lately. It’s still in its experimentation phase, but the results have been very encouraging.”
Sodium thiopental. Truth serum. Dammit. As a rule, dragons were fairly resistant to modern drugs and their effects. Much like alcohol, the amount required to get any kind of reaction from a dragon would kill a normal man. But we weren’t immune. Pump us full of enough shit, and we’d feel the effects, same as a human. “You’re very forthcoming suddenly,” I said, renewing my efforts with my sleeve cuff. Where was that stupid slit? I had to find it again before I got too loopy to do anything. “Sure you’re not the one who got stuck with the needle?”
Mist regarded me with a practiced blank expression. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that fighting is useless,” she said, “and it would be better in the long run to give me the answers quickly. Holding out is only going to make it worse. I was going to interrogate you the old-fashioned way, but I suspect you have a fairly high pain threshold, and Talon wants the information as soon as possible. We’ll give that a few minutes to work, and then we’ll see how you feel about cooperating.”
“I didn’t think Vipers did this sort of thing,” I said, buying time as Mist leaned back, regarding me blankly. “Isn’t your shtick more murder and assassination? Is Lilith finally deciding to branch out?”
Mist paused, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips, turning my insides cold. “What makes you think I’m a Viper?” she asked. “I was trained to be a Basilisk, just like you. Don’t worry, though,” she went on, and settled back against the table, crossing her arms. “I’m not the only agent Talon sent. The Viper should be finishing up shortly.”
Ember
“Drop your weapons.”
The human’s voice echoed in the empty space, low and commanding. I tensed, eyeing the men surrounding us. Not soldiers of St. George; they wore black business suits and no armor, looking more like bodyguards or FBI agents than military people. Their guns, however, were all too real, pointed unerringly at me and Garret. My heart seized with the realization.
Not St. George. Talon.
The man holding Faith cocked the hammer of his weapon and shoved it harder against her temple, making her gasp. “I won’t ask again,” he warned. “Put your weapons on the ground and your hands on your head. Now.”
“Dammit.” I glanced at Garret, who lowered his gun, looking resigned. Bending down, he set the pistol on the cement and rose, clasping his hands behind his skull. With a growl, I did the same, tossing the weapon to the floor and lacing my fingers behind my head. The half circle of men closed in, motioning us forward, keeping their guns trained on us. They also kept a safe distance away, I saw as we were herded toward the front. Wary and alert, offering no opportunity to be pounced on by a dragon. They knew what they were dealing with.
The man in the suit didn’t smile as we were brought before him, didn’t move a muscle. His grip on Faith didn’t lessen, though he kept his gaze trained on us. My mind raced. Talon was here for me. Not Faith or Garret. Just me. I didn’t know how I knew this, but I did.
Faith met my gaze, pale and terrified, her eyes pleading for me to do something. Setting my jaw, I took a step forward.
“Let her go,” I said, as all the guns came up, pointed at me. I stopped, keeping my hands raised, meeting the impassive stare of the human in front of us. “Leave both of them out of this,” I insisted. “They’re not important. Just a runaway and a human nobody. You’re here for me, right? I’m the one you want.”
The agent didn’t reply. He continued to stare at me, expressionless, and my desperation grew. “Please,” I continued, taking one more step toward him. “You don’t need them. Let them walk out, and I…I’ll come quietly. I’ll go back with you to Talon. Just let them go.”
And Faith started to laugh.
“Oh, Ember.” She chuckled and slid easily from the human’s grip, smiling at me. “You are naive, aren’t you?”
Riley
I slumped forward, feeling sweat run down my face into my eyes, my jaws aching from clenching them so hard. I knew if I relaxed an inch, I would start babbling like an idiot, but at the same time, my inclination to care was getting smaller and smaller. I knew the drug was working its way through my brain, suppressing inhibition and my ability to think straight. I had been completely, utterly trashed exactly once in my lifetime, having consumed enough alcohol to drown a football team. This felt very much the same.