Legion, Page 20

  I snorted. I had been awake for only a little while, and even now, I felt groggy and disoriented. Every time they stuck me with one of those damned needles, I blacked out and didn’t know anything for a time. “I have no idea,” I told the girl—me, I supposed. Other me. The one who cried and loved and followed emotion rather than instinct. The one who insisted we love a human, instead of our Sallith’tahn. I curled a lip at her. “I’ve been asleep. You’re the one who has been awake through all of this. You tell me.”

  Other me shook her head. “This has to be a nightmare,” she muttered, putting a hand to her face. “It can’t really be happening. I can’t be standing here, having a conversation with myself.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...it’s impossible!” She ran the palm down her face, her eyes a little glassy. “I’m dreaming,” she muttered again. “That’s all. You’re a nightmare, a figment of my imagination. I just have to wake up.”

  I growled, the sound vibrating through the void around us. “From where I’m standing, you’re the hallucination,” I told her through bared teeth, and she flinched back. “I’ve always been here. From the beginning. You’re the human part that won’t accept who we are.” She shook her head, denying it, and my anger flared. “If anything, I’m the real one. And maybe if I get rid of you, everything will be as it should.”

  * * *

  I backed away as the dragon stalked forward, eyes blazing against the void. Okay, maybe this wasn’t a hallucination. And even if it was, being attacked and torn apart by my dragon, quite literally myself, would probably screw up my head pretty bad.

  “Stop it,” I told her, forcing myself to stand my ground. “This is crazy. We can’t fight each other.”

  Dragon me stopped, but didn’t look convinced. “We’ve been fighting each other for a long time, didn’t you know that?” she hissed. When I gave her a puzzled look, she actually sneered. “Don’t act dumb. You know what I’m talking about. Ever since you met that boy, that human, all you’ve been doing is fighting me. We’re not human, and he won’t be around forever. Cobalt is your life-mate, our Sallith’tahn. Why do you keep denying who we are?”

  “I love Garret,” I told her firmly, realizing what this was about. “And I don’t want my choices to be defined by instinct. You keep pushing me at Cobalt, but it’s not going to change what I feel for Garret. I can’t choose who I love, anymore than I can choose the Sallith’tahn.” She watched me with blank dragon eyes, and I gave a bitter smile. “But I don’t know why I’m telling you this—love is a human thing. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  Dragon me snorted again, sounding indignant. “What the hell gave you that idea?” she demanded.

  * * *

  The girl glanced at me sharply, a look of confusion crossing her face. “What are you talking about?”

  With a gusty sigh, I sat down, folding my wings to my back as the flames within flickered and died. I supposed it was time to stop denying it. “Cobalt is our Sallith’tahn,” I told her simply. “I don’t have to do any pushing. You feel the pull toward him just as much as I do.” I paused, waiting for her to deny it, knowing she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. “So why do you think I feel any different toward the human?”

  She stared at me, an expression of shock crossing her face as she realized. “You love Garret, too,” she finally whispered.

  I didn’t answer, feeling the truth burn its way into my heart as surely as the hottest flame. Yes, I did. I loved the soldier, the dragonslayer, the human, with a fierceness I’d never experienced before. Emotion wasn’t just for my other half, I could admit that now. But still, it was Cobalt who called to me, who brought the flames within to life, who made me feel like a dragon. Who understood flying and hoarding and breathing fire, things that only a dragon got. Without him, I sometimes felt that I—this side of me, anyway—would shrivel up and disappear, leaving only the human half behind.

  After a long silence that throbbed like a heartbeat through the empty void, human Ember threw up her hands. “So...why are we fighting each other?” she asked despairingly. “If we both feel the same, why is this happening?”

  I closed my eyes, feeling we were both rushing toward a final, inevitable conclusion. “I think,” I said slowly, “you just answered your own question.”

  * * *

  I drew in a breath as the dragon’s words sank in. “We...keep fighting each other,” I said, and the familiar green eyes opened to stare at me. “That’s why we’re split like this, why I feel like I’m two separate creatures sometimes. But we’re not. We’re not dragon and human. We’re the same. Two sides of the same coin. We’ve just been struggling against the other for so long, trying to resist our instincts, because we didn’t understand.”

  Dragon me curled her tail around her legs, her voice full of weary resignation. “So, what do we do now?”

  “I think we have to stop fighting each other.”

  She cocked her head in a surreally familiar way. “That sounds a little too easy.”

  “I don’t think so.” I looked at her, really looked at her, seeing—for the first time—myself. Not my dragon side, not my baser instincts, but me. And I realized what I—we—had to do.

  I smiled sadly, wishing I could have figured this out a lot sooner. “Riley is our Sallith’tahn,” I murmured, nodding. “That’s just how it is, and I have to accept that.” The dragon was watching intently, green gaze solemn in the darkness. “But instinct doesn’t have to define me,” I whispered firmly. “It doesn’t have to control my life. I don’t have to suppress it, or try to fight it. It’s not a choice between what I want to be more, dragon or human.” I closed my eyes, feeling something inside me unravel, a knot coiling free. “I’m a dragon,” I said firmly. “That’s all. Not a dragon that can love, or a dragon that has to fight to be more human. I’m both...and neither. I’m just me.”

  * * *

  Just me.

  I opened my eyes.

  His face swam above me, metallic-gray eyes bright with fear and anguish as they came into focus. I felt his arm around my shoulders, and one calloused hand pressed to my cheek, trembling slightly. I felt him freeze as I opened my eyes, heard the ragged intake of breath as our gazes met.

  “Ember.” He blew out a shaky breath and pulled me to him, pressing his forehead to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the strength of his arms holding me close, one hand tangled in my hair. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  “I...” My head felt strange, like it was stuffed with cotton and floating several inches above my neck. I couldn’t remember how I got here; it felt like there were dark blotches on my brain, smudging out the memories. “I don’t know,” I admitted, looking up at Garret. “What happened?”

  “Save it for another time.” A cool, impatient voice interrupted us. “We have to leave this place, now. Before the Elder Wyrm realizes what is happening.”

  Garret and I drew back, and my eyes widened at the girl on the other side of the room. “Mist?” I exclaimed as the dragonell gave me an exasperated look. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s all right, Firebrand.” Against the far wall, Riley smiled at me, looking relieved, as well. Though he held a gun pointed at the face of an angry-looking scientist. “She’s on our side, at least for now.” He gave her a look of begrudging respect. “I don’t know what her real motivation is, but she got us here. We wouldn’t have made it this far without her help.”

  “Can we please save the speculation for later?” Mist snapped. “We still have to make it to the ground floor and get off the premises. And this little side trip has significantly delayed the escape plan.” She glanced at the scientists, her face darkening. “We should kill them, to make sure they don’t sound the alarm when we leave.”

  “No.” Quickly, I slid off the gurney and leaned on Garret as my legs
shook and the room swayed. His arms wrapped around my waist, holding me steady. I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt, feel the warmth pulsing from his skin as I looked at Mist. “No killing,” I told her. “Not in cold blood. Find another way.”

  The other dragon gave me an exasperated look and glanced at Riley. “I’m so glad we stayed behind to rescue her,” she said acidly. Frowning, she turned to the two vessels and pointed at the scientists. “Stay here. Guard the humans. If they step away from the wall, kill them.”

  The clones moved forward obediently, herding the scientists into the corner and keeping their guns trained on them. The lead scientist glared at us as he was backed against the wall.

  “You’ll never get out,” he said. “There are a dozen cameras between here and the ground floor. Not to mention the vessels, the guards and the rest of the security. All that has to happen is for one camera to spot you, one alarm to sound. Even with this traitor with you, you’ll never make it out alive.”

  “You know, we could always kill you right now,” Riley growled, turning on the scientist and raising the gun back to his face. The human cringed away, futilely covering his head, as if that would stop a bullet, and Riley gave a grim smile. “Fortunately for you, everyone here is going to be a bit distracted in a few seconds. Mist?” He glanced at the second Basilisk, an evil smile crossing his face as he pulled out a phone. “Wes is in.”

  “Then let’s get out of here.”

  “Roger that. Wes...” Riley put the phone to his ear, narrowing his eyes. “Now.”

  RILEY

  For a second, nothing happened. The scientist glared at me, tense and apprehensive, waiting.

  Then a ringing alarm blared into the silence, making everyone start. The lead scientist jumped the highest of all and gazed around wildly as the shrill ringing continued to sound. I grinned at him smugly.

  Hacked the fire alarm and disabled the cameras—nice job, Wes. Hopefully that will be enough of a distraction for us to sneak out unnoticed. I glanced at my companions and jerked my head at the door. “Time to go! Let’s get out of here.”

  We ran, leaving the room and sprinting down the hallway to the elevators. The alarm was still blaring nonstop, and if I knew Wes, he’d probably called the fire department, too. Mist reached the doors at the end of the hall first and growled a curse.

  “Elevators are down. We’ll have to take the stairs. This way!”

  We followed her up the stairwell, our pounding footsteps echoing up the shaft as we climbed. Three flights later, we burst onto the ground floor and gazed around warily. From what I had pieced together, this was a private office campus, with buildings up top to act as a front, hiding the very secret, high-tech laboratories beneath. This floor was dark and empty, though the alarm still blared through the corridors, making my ears ring. It looked like most of the employees had already fled the building.

  Abruptly, the fire alarm ceased, and silence throbbed in my ears.

  “That’s not good,” Mist whispered, and started down a corridor that cut through various offices. No one appeared at the end of the hall, no footsteps echoed in pursuit, but my skin crawled in the sudden, disturbing stillness. “Come on,” she beckoned. “We’ll go through the loading dock where the trucks make the deliveries. No point in risking the main doors.”

  Everything was quiet as we slipped through the offices, following Mist down several hallways until she opened a door that led into what looked like a storage space. The floors were cement, and boxes of varying size were stacked along the walls and in neat aisles down the center.

  “Almost there,” I heard Mist say under her breath. As if she, too, was counting the steps to freedom. We trailed her along a wall of boxes, rounded the corner and froze.

  A thin man stood before a line of guards, their assault rifles pointed in our direction. More than a dozen cold, silvery eyes stared at us across the cement floor as the row of vessels took aim, their faces blank. Behind them and the smiling form of Luther the Basilisk, the doors of the loading dock beckoned, tantalizingly close. But they might as well have been a million miles away.

  “Well, well,” Luther said, his sibilant voice oozing with triumph. “And what have we here? Miss Anderson, haven’t you been the sneaky, sneaky agent. Going rogue? Helping Cobalt escape? I wouldn’t have expected it of you.”

  Footsteps shuffled behind us, and another line of vessels stepped from behind a tower of boxes and hemmed us in. Luther’s smile was cold as he stared at me. “You thought I wouldn’t guess what was happening when the fire alarm sounded?” he asked. “When the security systems were abruptly jammed? I asked myself...if you—or any Basilisk,” he added, looking at Mist, “were to stage some kind of daring, miraculous escape, where would you most likely go? It was a gamble, between here and the sewer tunnels, but...” He raised his hands, as if to embrace us. “Here you are.”

  Dammit. I shot a desperate look around the room, wondering if there was a way out of this. If there was, I didn’t see it. The soldier had his gun drawn, but by the grim look on his face, he knew he was going to die, as well.

  “Miss Hill,” Luther said, his gaze shifting to Ember. “If you would kindly step away now. I would not want for you to accidentally come under fire. We will be returning to the Elder Wyrm presently, right after we destroy the traitors.”

  Ember bared her teeth at him. “You want them, you’ll have to kill me, too.”

  “Don’t be foolish, girl.” The Basilisk frowned. “They’re going to die one way or another, and you will be taken back to the Elder Wyrm where you belong. No need to make this harder on yourself.”

  Ember stood her ground, though I saw her hands tremble before they clenched at her sides. My throat ached for her. The rest of us would die quickly, but she would be taken away, her memories extracted and probably destroyed. So that the ancient leader of Talon could achieve immortality.

  The Elder Wyrm’s vessel. My stomach dropped, and I closed my eyes, realizing how we could get out of this. It was a gamble, and Ember might hate me—hell, she might kick my ass later—but there was nothing else I could think of.

  I’m sorry, Firebrand, I thought, pulling out my pistol. I hope you can forgive me for this.

  “Very well,” Luther said when Ember didn’t move. “Then I suppose we will do this the hard way. Vessels,” he ordered, his voice reverberating through the walls. “Kill them. All except Ember Hill. Destroy the rest and bring her to me.”

  I surged up, snaked one arm around Ember’s waist from behind and pressed the muzzle of my gun below her chin.

  She stiffened, and so did the Basilisk, his dark eyes widening as he realized what was happening. “Stop!” he called sharply, and the vessels froze, their gun barrels pointed right at us. Panting, I glared at Luther over Ember’s shoulder, trying to calm the fear sweeping through me. I could feel Ember’s taut body against mine, the tension and shock lining her muscles, and hoped she would not try to struggle or throw me off. Trust me, Ember, I thought, willing her to understand. I’m trying to save us all. Don’t explode on me.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen, Luther,” I said, locking eyes with the Basilisk. “You’re going to let us go. You’re going to let me and everyone else walk out of here, unmolested, or—” I prodded Ember’s jaw with the barrel of the pistol “—you can kiss the Elder Wyrm’s daughter goodbye.”

  Luther stared at me, his expression stony, and my heart pounded. I had to play this just right. For all his creepiness, Luther wasn’t stupid. If he called my bluff, we were done. The only reason this insane gambit might work was that I knew the one thing that terrified Luther, terrified all of us. The Elder Wyrm. I had to make him believe I wasn’t bluffing. I wasn’t Riley; I was Cobalt, the criminal leader of the rogue underground, and I had no issues sacrificing another dragon if it meant saving my own hide.

  “You really exp
ect me to believe that?” The Basilisk gave an oily smile, making my stomach drop. “You really expect me to stand here and believe that you would shoot one of your friends in cold blood, to save yourself? No, agent.” He shook his head. “The Cobalt I’ve seen, the Cobalt I have studied over the years, is not that ruthless.”

  “Yeah?” Ignoring my fear, I flashed the Basilisk the meanest, nastiest smirk I was capable of and shoved the gun farther into Ember’s skin. She gasped, tensing in my arms, and Luther’s eyes narrowed. “Can you really afford to take that gamble?” I asked, holding his gaze. “What would happen if the daughter of the Elder Wyrm is killed while you were trying to prevent our escape? It certainly wouldn’t just be your job on the line.”

  Luther didn’t answer, but I caught the flicker of raw fear that went through his eyes, and knew I had struck a chord. The rest of my party hadn’t moved. I could see the soldier in my peripheral vision; he had lowered his gun, but he still watched me with a hard look, one hand clenched at his side. I couldn’t see Mist; I just knew she was somewhere behind us, watching this morbid drama play out.

  I kept my attention on the Basilisk, knowing he was wavering. “If you think I’m bluffing, you’re sadly mistaken,” I lied, and gestured to the vessels surrounding us. “I know when I’m beat. And the way I see it, I’m already dead. But you know what I have no problem with? Taking you down with me. And hey...” My thumb reached up and pulled back the hammer with an ominous, metallic click. “If I have to die, I’d rather give her a clean death, right now, then let the Elder Wyrm win. But it’s your move, Luther. What’s it gonna be?”

  Luther glared at me, fear and hate warring in his eyes. But after a long moment, his shoulders slumped and he stepped away, barking an order to the clones. The vessels straightened, lowering their guns in perfect unison, and the Basilisk jerked his head at the door.

  “Go,” he snarled. “But this isn’t over. There is nowhere in the world you can hide. Nowhere for you and your little underground of traitors to be safe. We will find you, and we will purge your stain from the face of the earth. You’re only delaying the inevitable.”