The Iron Warrior, Page 31

  Drawing back, she walked over to my bed and plopped onto the mattress, and I crossed the room to shut the door. “Hey, how are the therapy sessions going?” I asked, rescuing an ink pen from Razor, who gave me an irritated buzz and bounced over to Kenzie. She snorted, absently patting the gremlin’s head as he scrambled to her shoulder.

  “Okay, I guess. Dad still doesn’t like talking about Mom, but this woman is persistent. He actually choked up during the last session.” Kenzie shook her head, amazed. “We finally had a sort-of conversation this morning, without any intervention. He doesn’t know about my...um...talent with invisible things, but I don’t think that will ever be in the cards. Still, I figure by the time I leave for college, he might actually treat me like a daughter and not a very breakable piece of furniture.” She sighed. “Though it will be nice to leave the house without hearing all the warnings about drugs and teen pregnancy.”

  I chuckled. “He still hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “Hate is such a strong word.” Kenzie grimaced. “It’s more of a strong revulsion now. And I’ve sung your praises, told him you got your GED over the summer, everything I could think of. The man is intractable.”

  “Yeah.” I shoved the thought of Kenzie’s father out of my head, determined not to ruin this moment. “Hey, come here a second.” She frowned but stood up and walked to where I was leaning against the desk. My heart pounded as I turned, reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a small white box. “I...um...got you something,” I said, watching her eyes light up as I turned back. “Sort of a congratulations gift. Six months as of today, you’ve been in remission. I hope it’s for another six years. Longer than that. I hope its forever.”

  A lump rose to my throat, and I swallowed hard. It might not be forever, I reminded myself. Remission wasn’t a cure, it was not a sure thing. Kenzie’s illness could come back someday. Who knew how much time we had? But that was the real world; Faery magic couldn’t make everything better. You couldn’t wave a wand and have all your wishes come true. Real life wasn’t a fairy tale.

  I was okay with that, though. I didn’t need magic to solve everything. However long I had with Kenzie, I wasn’t going to waste it.

  She blinked, and her eyes went a little glassy. “It’s not much,” I warned, holding out the box. “Just a reminder that, even though I’ll be away from you, I’ll always be yours.”

  Carefully, she opened the box. Inside was a simple necklace with two hearts, one gold and one silver, intertwined in the center. They were engraved, the silver one reading tough guy, the other simply saying forever.

  “Ethan,” Kenzie whispered, sounding awed. “It’s beautiful.”

  Gently, I drew it out and fastened it around her neck, and she gazed at me with huge dark eyes, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I never thought you could be such a romantic.”

  I smiled. “Well, then, let me convince you beyond all doubt,” I said. Brushing back her hair, I drew closer, gazing into her eyes. “I love you, Kenzie,” I said. “You’re my partner, and my sanity, and my saving grace. We’ve gone through so much, more than any normal person could dream of, and you’ve always been there for me. Someday, when you’re ready, it’ll be a ring in that box instead of a necklace. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have at my side. And someday, if Faery calls me back, I want you with me. Fighting dragons and bargaining with faery queens and arguing with talking cats.” She was crying now, smiling broadly through the tears, and I brushed her cheek. “So you don’t have to worry about losing me tomorrow,” I told her. “Because there’s no way I’ll ever leave you behind.”

  She kissed me then, and it went on for a long while. Not even Razor’s cackles of kissy-kissy could distract me from the girl in my arms. Only the sound of the doorbell ringing broke us apart. Curious, I pulled back, listening as it rang again. We didn’t have many visitors. Other than Kenzie, who never rang the doorbell, no one really visited the house.

  Leaving the room, we wandered hand in hand down the hall, meeting Mom in the kitchen. She looked as puzzled as I felt. Dad was home tonight as well, and was walking across the tile to answer the door. As his hand closed on the knob, Razor let out an excited cry and, abruptly, I knew.

  Pulling the door back, Dad stared in surprise as Meghan smiled at me through the frame. My heart jumped, and Mom gasped.

  “Meghan!”

  She rushed forward, and Meghan stepped inside to be engulfed in a hug. Stunned, I could only watch as Mom drew back, her face alight with questions. “We didn’t know you were coming!” Mom exclaimed, taking her hands. “How have you been? Will you be staying long—”

  She stopped, staring at something just outside the door. Meghan took a deep breath and moved aside...

  ...as Keirran stepped into the room.

  I straightened, and beside me, Kenzie’s hand went to her mouth. The Forgotten King, dressed in very normal-looking jeans and a T-shirt, smiled and nodded at me across the room. He looked...happy. Content. Though there was a somberness to him now that hadn’t been there before, a maturity that went beyond his years. Razor gave a high-pitched, welcoming buzz and waved to his former master, and Keirran grinned at him, as well.

  “Mom.” Meghan’s voice was soft, hesitant, as she turned to Keirran and placed a hand on his shoulder. But her voice and face glowed with pride as she drew him forward, and his brightness seemed to fill the entire room. “I think it’s past time you met your grandson.”

  * * * * *

  Enter a new world created by Julie Kagawa—a world

  in which dragons walk among us in human form,

  hiding in plain sight...but not for long.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from

  book one of The Talon Saga.

  Available now.

  Only from Julie Kagawa

  and Harlequin TEEN!

  Well, here we are. The end of the Iron Fey series. Hard to believe we’ve reached the finale, but what a trip it has been.

  Back when I first started The Iron King, I had no idea the journey I would set out on, or where it would lead. I had no idea it would spawn a massive, magical world filled with characters who have become as familiar to me as my own family. Meghan, Ash, Puck, Ethan, Keirran, Kenzie, Grimalkin...they’ve become so much more than words on paper. They’ve become characters with entire histories, past lives, fears, triumphs, failures and legacies. And the world of the Iron Fey has grown beyond all my expectations.

  Thank you to all my readers and fans who have taken this journey with me. I wouldn’t be here without you.

  Thank you to my agent, Laurie, for taking a chance on a shy, unknown writer from Kentucky.

  Thank you to my editor, Natashya, who has always, always made my work stronger.

  Thank you to the amazing people at Harlequin TEEN. For awesome covers, fabulous support and everything else.

  And finally, to my wonderful husband, Nick, who started this adventure with me and has been there every step of the way. Still couldn’t have done it without you.

  And so, after all these years, we finally close the door on the Iron Fey series. But one thing about doors is this: they can always be opened again. Perhaps someday in the future a door will swing back, and the Nevernever will be glimpsed through the frame once again, urging you to take that first step...into a new adventure.

  “It was...quite a ride, wasn’t it?”

  —Meghan Chase

  “Julie Kagawa is one killer storyteller.”

  —MTV’s Hollywood Crush Blog

  Don’t miss one thrilling installment of The Iron Fey series by New York Times bestselling author Julie Kagawa!

  The Iron King (Book 1)

  Winter’s Passage (Novella)

  The Iron Daughter (Book 2)

  The Iron Queen (Book 3)

  Summer’s Crossing (Novella)

>   The Iron Knight (Book 4)

  Iron’s Prophecy (Novella)

  The Lost Prince (Book 5)

  The Iron Traitor (Book 6)

  The Iron Warrior (Book 7)

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

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  If you enjoyed The Iron Warrior, don’t miss the new contemporary fantasy series from the limitless imagination of New York Times bestselling author Julie Kagawa!

  “A Dragon Novel for the 21st Century.”

  —MTV.com on Talon

  Talon (Book 1)

  Rogue (Book 2)

  Long ago, dragons were hunted to near extinction by the Order of St. George, a legendary society of dragon slayers. Hiding in human form and growing their numbers in secret, the dragons of Talon have become strong and cunning, and they’re positioned to take over the world with humans none the wiser.

  Order your copy today!

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  Talon

  by Julie Kagawa

  EMBER

  “YOU LOOK TIRED, HATCHLING.” Scary Talon Lady eyed me critically across the desk, arms crossed as she looked me up and down. “Did you not get enough sleep? I told your guardians I wanted you here early today.”

  “It’s five-thirty in the morning,” I said, knowing how I must look—eyes bloodshot, hair spiky with wind and salt. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

  “Well, this should perk you right up.” My instructor smiled in that way that chilled my blood. “We’re doing something a little different this morning. Follow me.”

  Nervously, I trailed her down to the storage room, then blinked in surprise when she opened the door. The normally vast, empty space was filled wall to wall with crates, pallets, steel drums and ladders. Some were stacked nearly to the ceiling, creating a labyrinth of shadowy aisles, hallways and corridors, a gigantic maze inside the room.

  “What’s this for?” I asked, just as something small and fast streaked from the darkness and hit me right in the chest. With a yelp, I staggered back, clutching my shoulder. Thick liquid spread over my clothes, and my hand came away smeared with red. “What the hell?” I gasped.

  “It’s paint,” my trainer said calmly, easing my panicked confusion. “But, make no mistake, had that been a real bullet, you would most assuredly be dead.” She waved an arm toward the labyrinth of boxes looming before me in the darkness. “There are a dozen ‘St. George soldiers’ hiding in that maze,” she continued, smiling down at me. “All hunting you. All looking to kill you. Welcome to phase two of your training, hatchling. I want you to go in there and survive as long as you can.”

  I stared into the room, trying to catch glimpses of my attackers, these “soldiers” of St. George. I couldn’t see anything, but I was quite certain they could see me and were probably watching us right now. “How long is long enough?” I asked quietly.

  “Until I say so.”

  Of course. With a sigh, I began walking toward the maze, but Scary Talon Lady’s voice stopped me before I took three steps.

  “What do you think you’re doing, hatchling?”

  Annoyed, I turned back, wondering what I’d done wrong this time. “I’m doing what you told me to. Go into maze, get shot at, survive. Isn’t that what you want?”

  My instructor gave me a blatant look of disgust and shook her head. “You’re not taking this seriously. If you are trapped in a warehouse with a team of well-trained, heavily armed St. George soldiers, do you really think you are going to survive as a human?”

  I stared at her, frowning, before I got what she was really saying. “You...you mean I can do this in my real form?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I do hope your brother catches on faster than you. It would be a shame to lose you both to stupidity.”

  “Yes!” I whispered, clenching my fist. I barely heard the insult. I could finally be a dragon without breaking the rules. That almost made this whole crazy exercise worth it.

  My trainer snapped her fingers and pointed to a large stack of crates in the corner.

  “If you are concerned about modesty or your clothes, you may change over there,” she ordered in a flat voice. “Though you are eventually going to have to get over that. There will be no time to find a bathroom if you are being chased by snipers in helicopters.”

  I hurried over and ducked behind the boxes, then shrugged out of my clothes as fast as I could. My body rippled as the dragon burst free again, wings brushing against the wooden crates as they unfurled for the second time that morning. It was still liberating, still completely freeing, even after a whole night of flying around.

  My talons clicked over the concrete as I stalked back to the maze, feeling comfortable and confident in my dragon skin. Even Scary Talon Lady didn’t look quite so scary anymore, though she eyed my dragon self with as much bored disdain as she did my human self.

  “Hold still,” she ordered, and pressed something into my ear hole, right behind my horns. I snorted and reared back, shaking my head, and she cuffed me under the chin. “Stop that. It’s just an earbud. It will allow me to communicate with you in the maze, and to hear everything that is going on around you. So, stop twitching.”

  I curled my lip, trying not to think about it, even though it was uncomfortable. My trainer didn’t notice. “On my signal,” she continued, pulling out her phone, “you have two minutes to find a good position and prepare for the hunt. If you are shot, you are ‘dead.’ Which means you have two minutes to find another position before the hunt starts again, and I add another fifteen minutes to the overall game. How long we are here depends on how long you survive, understand?”

  Crap. That meant I just would have to avoid getting shot. No way I was staying here all afternoon, not with Garret waiting for me. Dragon or no, I’d promised him a surf lesson, and I still wanted to see him. “Yes,” I answered.

  “I will be observing your progress from up top,” she continued, “so do not think you can lie about being killed. We will stay here all day if that is what it takes until I am satisfied.”

  Double crap. How long I would have to stay alive before this unappeasable woman was “satisfied?” Probably much longer than I thought.

  “Two minutes,” Scary Talon Lady reminded me. “Starting...now.”

  I spun, claws raking over the cement, and bounded into the maze.

  I didn’t see any soldiers as I wove my way through the endless corridors, peeking around crates to make sure the aisles were empty. Everything remained very quiet, save for my breathing and the click of my talons on the cement. As I crept farther into the room, no one shot at me, nothing moved in the shadows, no footsteps shuffled over the ground. Where were these so-called soldiers, anyway? Maybe this was an elaborate hoax my trainer had cooked up to make me paranoid. Maybe there was no one here at all...

  Something small and oval dropped into the corridor from above, bounced once with a metallic click and came to rest near my claws. As I stared in confusion, there was a sudden deafening hiss, and white smoke erupted from the tiny object, spewing everywhere. I backed away, squinting, but the smoke had completely filled the aisle and I couldn’t see where I was going.

  Shots erupted overhead, and several blows struck me from all sides. As the smoke cleared, I looked up to see six humans standing atop the aisle, three on either side. They wore heavy tactical gear and ski masks, and carried large, v
ery real-looking guns in their hands. My whole body was covered in red paint, dripping down my scales and spattering to the concrete. I cringed as the realization hit. I’d stood no chance against them. I’d walked right into their ambush, and if these were real St. George soldiers, I’d be blown to bits.

  “And you’re dead,” buzzed a familiar voice in my ear as the figures slipped away and vanished as quickly as they had appeared. “A very dismal start, I’m afraid. Let us hope you can turn this around, or we will be here all day. Two minutes!”

  A little daunted now, I hurried down another corridor, attempting to put as much distance between me and the six highly trained soldiers as I could.

  * * *

  SOMETIME LATER I CROUCHED, exhausted, behind a stack of pallets, my sides heaving from the last little scuffle. I’d been running from the soldiers for what seemed like hours, and they always seemed one step ahead of me. I’d slip away from one only to be shot by another hiding atop the crates overhead. I’d enter a corridor to find it blocked by two soldiers, and when I turned to run, two more would appear behind me, boxing me in. I was almost completely covered in paint; it seeped between my scales and dripped to the floor when I moved, looking very much like blood. And each time I was hit, my trainer’s bored, smug voice would crackle in my ear, taunting me, telling me I had failed again, that I was dead.

  I had no idea how much time had passed from the last time I’d been shot. Minutes? Hours? I didn’t think it mattered, not with my sadistic instructor keeping track. Curling my tail around myself, I huddled in the dark corner, breathing as quietly as I could and hoping that maybe the “hide and hope they don’t notice you” method would allow me to survive long enough to get out of here.

  A small oval object sailed over the stack of crates, hit the wall and bounced toward me with a clink. I hissed and shot out of the corner before it could go off. Most of the projectiles lobbed at me had been smoke grenades, which, while I didn’t have to worry about things like smoke inhalation, made it very difficult to see in the tight corridors. Death by paint usually followed as I thrashed around in confusion. But the last grenade had exploded in a blinding burst of light, and the soldiers had pumped me full of rounds as I’d stood there, stunned. Not going through that again, thanks.