Soldier Page 35
Riley had scoffed at the stories then. Now, it was pretty hard not to believe it.
“Is this...where the hatchlings are going?” Riley whispered. He sounded more than horrified. He sounded sick, and he stared at the glass tube like he’d just witnessed a baby being murdered in front of him. “All my rogues, all the hatchlings taken away by the organization. When Talon finds them again, is this where they end up? As some sick lab experiment?”
He smashed a fist into an unbroken part of the tube, shattering it. I jumped. Glass shards rained to the floor, pinging off the cold tile, as Riley stood there, shaking.
“I promised I would keep them safe,” he rasped, mostly to himself now. Blood welled from his cut hand and dripped to the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I swore to free as many of my kind as I could before the organization killed me. That’s been my mission for so long, getting dragons out, making them see the truth of Talon, even though I knew it was dangerous. Even though I knew some of them might be killed. I hated every single death, but I knew they would be better off free. But this...” His gaze, bright with anguish, slid over the tube. “How can I stand against this? How can I justify freeing anyone, convince any hatchling to trust me, when I know they could end up here?”
I stepped forward, gently taking his hand and holding it in both of mine. “This is why we can’t give up,” I whispered as his tortured gaze flicked to me. “This is why we have to keep fighting. We have to show everyone what Talon is really like, that they’re willing to sacrifice their own kind for gain. If we don’t, even more hatchlings could end up in a place like this.”
Riley took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You’re right. We can’t stop. We can’t let this continue. The organization will do horrible things to their hatchlings and undesirables even if there are no rogues to take the fall. If I don’t keep fighting Talon, who will?”
“I will,” I said softly.
He chuckled. “I don’t know, Firebrand. Think you can handle a dozen hormonal teen dragons if I go down someday?”
“I lived with an obnoxious twin brother for years,” I responded. “I think I could manage.” He arched a dubious eyebrow, and I sobered. “But that’s not going to happen, Riley, because you’re not going to die. This work, what you’re doing now, is too important. Someone has to stand against Talon, to show our kind what the organization is really like. And you’re the only one who has a chance.” I raised my chin, my voice firm. “You can’t let them win. We can’t let them win. And I’m going to do whatever it takes for us to succeed.” Riley was motionless, watching me with glittering gold eyes, and I held his stare. “I’m not walking away from this,” I told him. “Or you. I’ll keep fighting, however long it takes.”
Riley blinked slowly and when he opened his eyes, it was Cobalt staring out at me with an intense, hungry gaze. My own instincts responded, rising to the surface, making my skin flush. I was suddenly aware of our surroundings—dark, empty, isolated. No one here but us. My skin felt tight against my bones, stretched out and constricting, and the air in my lungs tasted like smoke.
No, I thought, willing the heat inside to die down. Not now. Focus, Ember. A creepy abandoned laboratory is not the place for...anything, really. Get a hold of yourself.
“Come on,” Riley said after a moment of intense silence. His voice sounded strained, frustrated. “I don’t think we’re going to learn anything else. Let’s get out of here.”
Silently, we headed back through the corridor and empty rooms, past the row of glass containers and up the stairs again. Neither of us said anything, but halfway up the stairwell, Riley jerked to a halt, putting out a hand to stop me. Puzzled, I looked up and saw that he had a strange frown on his face, as if he was trying to catch something just out of earshot.
“Wes? Can you hear me?” Putting a hand to his ear, his brow furrowed. “The signal is breaking up, Wes. I can barely understand you. Slow down. What are you shouting about—
“No.” He stopped, the blood draining from his face. “You can’t be serious.” Another second’s pause, and he shook his head. “Shit. Wes, get out of here now! That’s an order!”
Whirling around, he pointed frantically down the stairs. “Go back!” he snarled at me, as I stared at him, wide-eyed. “Move, Firebrand! St. George is here—”
A boom from up top made me jump, and beams of light flooded the stairwell as a squad of armed, masked soldiers burst through the door and started pouring down the steps.