The next few days, things were tense. I went out of my way to avoid the soldiers, and I noticed Sebastian doing the same, particularly when the soldiers of the other chapterhouse were around. Ember stayed near me or St. George when she wasn’t in her room, and Wes ventured out only to use the bathroom across the hall.
And then there was Mist. Or, more accurately, the lack of her. I knew she was around; sometimes I’d catch a glimpse of her slipping out of a room, or hovering in a corner, watching and listening, while everyone talked. It worried me; she was an ex-Basilisk and shady as hell. If she was sending Talon vital information about us, we’d be dead before our little rescue operation ever got off the ground. But Mist was either too good to be caught, or she was just a naturally cautious person, because I never saw her in the act of something overtly suspicious.
One night, I was more restless than usual. I lay on the hard mattress, listening to Wes snore in the corner, the million thoughts swirling around my head making sleep impossible. Per normal, I wondered if my underground was all right; Wes had checked their status as soon as he’d woken up, and every couple hours thereafter until we went to sleep. They were fine for now, but they were still just kids and I worried for them constantly, hoping Jade could keep them safe while I wasn’t there.
I thought of Ember a lot, still feeling the ache of the severed life-mate bond deep inside. It wasn’t as sharp as before, where Cobalt had raged and mourned the loss of his Sallith’tahn, but it was still there. I’d buried it under work and planning, keeping myself deliberately busy so I wouldn’t have to think about it, but in the quiet hours of the night, it crept up again, reminding me of what I’d lost. Strangely enough, I didn’t hate the soldier for it. If Ember didn’t want him, there’d be nothing he could do to change her mind. But watching them together… Ember truly seemed content with her human, so who was I to interfere?
I did think she was being shortsighted and setting herself up for heartbreak; humans didn’t live very long compared to dragons, even if there wasn’t a war going on. Sixty years, eighty years; it was a heartbeat to us, the blink of an eye. Even if the soldier didn’t get his head blown off in the next year or so, he would eventually grow old, wither and die, as all humans did. And Ember would still have her whole life ahead of her like the rest of us. That was another reason dragons rarely formed attachments to humans; they just weren’t around very long. Even my friendship with Wes was a bit of an anomaly. I was sure that Jade or Mist didn’t have a best girlfriend that was human.
Mist. I shifted on the mattress, putting my hands under my head to stare at the ceiling. Mist had been on my mind a lot lately. Mostly because I knew she was up to something, and yet I could never pin her down long enough to prove it. Infuriating Basilisk. It was all the more aggravating because I should know her tricks; I had been doing this far longer than her. I knew she thought she was smarter than me; maybe this was a game to her, see how far she got before I finally caught on.
Annoyed and knowing I wouldn’t get any sleep tonight, I swung my feet off the cot and sat up. Wes’s snores vibrated through the room as I checked my watch—3:22 a.m. Still too early for even the soldiers to be awake. I wished I knew what that Martin guy was planning, and what the damn holdup was. Organizing a raid on a heavily armed facility in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean wasn’t something you could pull out of your ass, but still. We were wasting time; the breeders weren’t getting any younger, and Talon wasn’t getting any less powerful.
A rustle in the hall just outside the room made the hairs on my neck stand up. It was barely audible, especially through the locked door and the snores of my hacker friend, but my dragon instincts stirred. Something, or someone, was out there.
I stood up and glided to my door, opening it just enough to peer through the crack.
A glimmer of pale, silvery hair vanished around the corner at the end of the corridor, making my gut clench and my suspicion flare to life. Mist. The Basilisk was up and on the move. This was my chance. Now we would finally see whose side she was really on.
I pushed the door open as smoothly as I could, careful not to make it creak, and slipped into the hall after the girl. Barefoot, I followed that faint shimmer of silvery hair through narrow, pitch-black corridors, the stone floor cold against my feet. Mist moved swiftly through the underground bunker, silent as a ghost, thankfully not looking back. She might not have seen me in the darkness and shadow—I’d be difficult to spot in my black jogging pants and T-shirt—but she was an ex-Basilisk. Naturally wary and suspicious.
Then again, so was I.
I followed her up the steps to the old church, across the room and out one of the back doors into the hazy moonlight. Now Mist started to act nervous, glancing over her shoulder, even pausing to scan the trees behind her. But the woods surrounding the church had plenty of places to hide, and human eyesight could not pierce the shadows well enough to spot a person crouched at the foot of a tree. The challenge was moving when she moved so that my footsteps, rustling through leaves and bushes, didn’t give me away. Still, I’d been trained for this, and was able to follow the pale form through the woods fairly easily, a shadow trailing a ghost.
About a half mile from the church, Mist finally came to a stop in the center of a small clearing. As I knelt behind a gnarled tree, watching her, she pulled her phone from a pocket and held it to her ear. With the distance and shadows, it was nearly impossible to see her lips move, but I thought she muttered the words, “I’m here,” before lowering her arm. I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
All right, then. Mysterious meeting outside in the middle of the night. This isn’t suspicious at all. My jaw clenched in anger. What have you been doing, Mist? Who are you selling us out to?
A few minutes passed, and then someone melted out of the trees across the clearing and began walking toward Mist. A human, dressed in a nondescript black suit and tie, the kind many Talon agents wore. He carried a black briefcase in one hand and didn’t hesitate as he walked toward the dragon waiting in the clearing.
Dammit, Mist. Briefly, I closed my eyes. I don’t want to have to kill you. But if this is anyone from Talon, I can’t let this go on. Whatever you’re up to, it has to end tonight.
Opening my eyes, I squinted to see their lips as the human drew close. But Mist stepped forward and turned just enough that their faces were blocked from view. They spoke quietly, too far away to be heard, and then the mysterious agent handed Mist the briefcase, turned and disappeared into the trees again. Mist watched until he was gone, then began walking back the way she’d come.
She had just reached the edge of the trees when I stepped out, grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her back into a trunk. She grunted at the impact, and then icy blue eyes flashed up to meet mine.
“Hello, Mist.” I smiled coldly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Cobalt.” The other Basilisk matched the chilliness of my smile. She didn’t seem surprised to see me, though I knew she wouldn’t reveal such emotion. Or the fact that I had finally taken her off guard. “So that was you I felt following me. Congratulations for being able to stay out of sight. I guess your skills aren’t completely overexaggerated, after all.”
“Thanks. I try.” I stared into her eyes, seeing my own reflection gazing back, grim and dangerous. “Surprisingly, thinking one of my teammates is going to betray us to Talon is a pretty good motivator,” I went on, and tightened my grip, pinning her harder into the tree. “So, now comes the part where you’re going to tell me everything. Who you met with, what’s in the briefcase and, most importantly, who the hell you’re working for.”
“Interesting.” Mist met my gaze, unrepentant. “And if I don’t give you what you want?”
“Then I’m going to have to force it out of you, one way or another.”
I felt bad for threatening her, but enough was enough. This was some seriously shady crap she was pulling, and there was too much at stake to leave anything to chance. “You can either tell me now,” I warned, “or in an interrogation chair. I’m done playing games, Mist.”
“Oh, Cobalt.” Her smile turned brittle. “You make it sound so easy.”
Her knee came up, hitting me between the legs, sending a blinding stab of pain through my groin. I convulsed with a grunt, staggering away, and she followed it with a savage kick to my temple. I threw up my arm, taking it on the shoulder instead of the noggin, but the impact still rocked me sideways and made my head ring. During the second roundhouse that followed, I managed to grab her leg, turn and throw her to the ground. She rolled with the impact, coming up on her feet, but it was enough time for me to take a breath and get my balance again, and for the shrieking pain of my sensitive bits to fade somewhat.
I shook my head and grinned at the other dragon, who was balanced on the balls of her feet in a fighting stance, still holding the briefcase in one hand. “Playing dirty, Mist? Why does that not surprise me?”
She smirked. “It sure as hell surprised you a moment ago.”
“Fair enough.” I stepped forward, letting my muscles relax and my senses sharpen, taking in my surroundings and the girl in front of me. “Let’s see if you can do it again. No Shifting, though.” Fighting as humans was a lot safer than fighting as dragons. You could pummel your opponent senseless, but fists and feet were still less dangerous than claws and fangs. Once we Shifted, the tone of the fight changed into something far more lethal. And, shady or not, I didn’t want to kill her.
Mist shrugged. “Fine,” she agreed, and tossed the suitcase to the forest floor. “I can take you down just as easily as a human.”
“You talk a big game, hatchling.” I edged closer, smiling. “Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”
“Actually, I’d rather put my foot where your mouth is,” Mist replied, and lunged, kicking straight up toward my chin. I jerked my head back, feeling her leather boot miss my nose by about a centimeter, and dropped low, sweeping her other leg out. She tumbled backward, somehow turned the fall into a backflip and landed on her feet again like a damn cat. I had about a second to be impressed with her flexibility when that leg shot out again, side-kicking me in the gut and driving most of the air from my lungs. As I staggered, bent nearly in two, I saw her bring her foot up, almost touching the side of her face, right before her heel slammed into the back of my head.
My chin struck the ground, clacking my teeth together painfully, and the world went fuzzy for a moment. Instinctively, I rolled to the side, hearing her foot slam into the ground where my head had been a moment before. Before she could pull it back, I grabbed that slim ankle and yanked hard, jerking her off her feet. She landed on her back, and this time I heard the explosion of air leave her body as she hit hard and lay there for a moment, stunned.
I lunged forward before she could recover, straddling her waist and pinning her wrists to the ground. She froze, and for a moment, we stared at each other, panting. Mist gazed up at me, defiant, silver hair spilling around her head like a cloud. She felt…suddenly fragile. Her wrists, clamped beneath my fingers, were long and slender; I felt I could snap them if I squeezed hard enough.
“Well.” Her voice came out breathy, and for some reason, I felt my stomach prickle. “Here we are. Now what?”
I licked suddenly dry lips. “You could always tell me who you’re working for.”
“Are you going to hold me down until I do?”
“I’m sure Wes or Ember will miss me eventually.” I smirked down at her, settling my weight fully. “I’m a dragon. I can be patient. Or you can just tell me now and get it over with. Because you’re going to tell me eventually.” I tightened my grip on her arms, and she grimaced. “Who is your employer, Mist?” I demanded, my voice hard. “Tell me. Give me a reason to believe you’re not selling us out to Talon. I can’t let you go until I’m certain.”
She slumped, closing her eyes. “If I tell you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I leaned closer to hear. “You have to promise me one thing.”
My heartbeat picked up, thumping in my ears. “What’s that?”
Abruptly, her head shot forward, the top of her skull striking me square in the nose. I yelped and shot backward, my hands going to my face, and Mist kicked me in the chest, shoving me off.
“Don’t assume the fight’s over until it is.”
Through blood and tears of pain, I looked up and saw her foot coming at my head, aimed at my temple. Knowing that if it landed I’d probably be knocked senseless, I lunged forward instead, catching her around the waist. She threw a couple quick elbows into my face, making my already abused nose scream with agony, but as we toppled backward I somehow ended up behind her. Snaking an arm beneath her jaw, I tightened my grip, putting her into a rear-naked choke, using both arms to cut off the supply of blood to her brain. She tucked her chin, trying to save her neck and give herself a few seconds as we struggled in the grass. An elbow hit me in the ribs, hard enough that I felt something crack, but I gritted my teeth and hung on.
Briefly, it flashed through my head that, if she were to Shift right now, I’d be in trouble.
Beneath me, Mist shuddered, her struggles growing more frantic. I knew that, if she didn’t break free, she was seconds away from passing out. Dragon or no, six to eight seconds was all it took for someone to go unconscious once the blood flow to the brain was cut off. Again, Mist jabbed me in the ribs with an elbow and threw her head back, attempting to bash me in the face. I ducked my chin, setting my jaw. I didn’t enjoy this. Choking out a girl half my weight was not high on my list of things I was proud of, even if she was a Basilisk who could easily kick my ass if I wasn’t paying attention.
The girl slumped in my arms, and just as I was tensing for the Shift, her hand came up, tapping my elbow three times in rapid succession. Signaling surrender.
I let her go immediately, not pausing to think that this could be a ruse, that she could be lying to get me to lower my guard. If she wanted to escape, all she had to do was change forms, and I’d be unable to hang on. Though her comment about making assumptions was still echoing through my brain, mocking me. Mist fell forward, coughing and gasping, one hand going to her throat as she sucked in air. Panting, I sagged against a tree, watching her recover.
“Why didn’t you Shift?” I asked after a moment.
She shot me a confused look. “We agreed…to no Shifting, didn’t we?” she asked, still breathing hard.
“Yes, but…you’re a Basilisk. Lying is in our job description. If I didn’t let up, you’d be unconscious right now.”
Her brow furrowed. “If I had Shifted, you would’ve been forced to change form, as well. And like you said before, that would have upped the lethality of the fight by a great deal. One or both of us could have sustained serious injuries, and that would have been counterproductive to what I’m supposed to do here.” She blinked, and the slight frown deepened. “Do you really think so little of me that you believe I would try to kill you to protect my secrets?”
“I don’t know, Mist,” I said truthfully. “I don’t know anything about you. I have no clue why you’re here, who you’re working for or what your real agenda is. You assure me you’re not my enemy, but you go sneaking off in the middle of the night to meet with suspicious people in secret. How can I be sure they’re not part of Talon? How can I trust anything you say if you’re only telling me half-truths?”
She held my stare for a moment, then sighed, bowing her head so that her silver hair slipped forward to cover her face. Her next words were soft, barely audible, even in the stillness.
“All right,” I heard her whisper. “If this is the only way I can get you to trust me…
“I work for the Archivist,” she said, sending a jolt of shock up my spine. The Archivist? Mist’s mysterious employer, the one who’d ordered the ex-Basilisk to rescue us from Talon, travel with us and aid us where she could, was the freaking Archivist? “I believe you have already met him,” Mist continued, glancing up at me. “In Chicago. Do you remember?”
“You mean the Wyrm that guards the Vault below the library?” I rasped out. “Yeah, I remember.” How could I not? You did not just forget a meeting with the third-oldest dragon in the known world. No wonder Mist could provide us with seemingly impossible-to-get information; the Archivist was the literal guardian of all the organization’s dirty secrets. He had access to knowledge I could only dream of.
There was just one small problem.
“Mist,” I began, “correct me if I’m wrong, but the Archivist works for Talon.”
A flicker of a smile crossed the girl’s face. “Yes and no,” she said in that cryptic way that made me want to strangle something. “Yes, the Archivist guards the Vault and protects Talon’s secrets. No, he will not openly oppose the Elder Wyrm. But he keeps his own network of spies and Basilisks, a handful of dragons whom he trusts will not betray him to the organization. We are his eyes and ears within Talon, accessing secrets where he cannot.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is he planning a coup against the Elder Wyrm?” That would be interesting, to say the least. As the second-oldest dragon within Talon, the Archivist could command a lot of respect. He might have the support to at least challenge the hierarchy and the Elder Wyrm. Though I wasn’t certain what kind of leader he would be. For all I knew, he might be just as corrupt and power-hungry as the current CEO.
But Mist shook her head. “No, the Archivist has no interest in ruling Talon,” she said to my vague disappointment. “And even if he did, the Elder Wyrm has far too many resources and is still far too powerful for him to take down alone. He’s made that very clear.”
“Then what the hell does he want?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Mist shrugged as I frowned at her. “I don’t question orders,” she said calmly. “I just do my job. That’s how it’s always been.”
I snorted. “So he’s no different than Talon. Protecting his interests and expecting everyone beneath him to do their job, no questions asked.”
“Perhaps,” Mist said, unconcerned. “But he has always been a neutral observer. This is the first time he has offered aid to a cause directly opposing the Elder Wyrm.” Her lips quirked as she met my gaze. “Maybe he actually thinks you can change something.”
I smirked back. “Well, we’ll try not to disappoint him.”
Mist shook her head, rose and walked to where the black case lay, forgotten when the fight began. I stood, as well, a little slower due to at least one bruised rib, and maybe a broken nose. Damn, the girl hit hard. My face felt like a dagger had been jammed below my eyes.
“So are you going to tell me what’s in that thing, or do I have to steal it from you later?” I asked as Mist walked back with the case in hand. She gave me a resigned look, put the case on the ground and clicked it open.
“I’m not certain myself,” the Basilisk admitted, pushing back the top. “I was just told it was important, and that it could greatly aid us in our upcoming mission…”
She trailed off, her eyes widening. Even more curious, I walked around to her back, just as the girl reached into the case and pulled out a dark piece of clothing. Pitch-black, it sucked in the light and looked like it was made out of ink. I drew in an awed breath as I realized what it was.
“Well, damn. He sent you a Viper suit.”
I stifled a tiny flutter of envy that went through me as I stared at the fabric. Ember might not have realized it back when she’d had one of her own, but it was a high honor to possess a suit, as only a few dragons were ever given the infamous black outfit that let you change between forms without the suit tearing or being destroyed. Only the top agents in the organization were gifted with Viper suits. They were reserved for the fearsome assassins, though I’d heard of a couple exceptional Basilisks who were given them, as well. But they were stupidly hard to get ahold of, and the process of making them was a heavily guarded secret. Knowing what I did now, it made sense that Ember, the daughter of the Elder Wyrm, had been given a Viper suit. I had never gotten one while I was in Talon, despite being the best Basilisk in the organization at that time.
Not that I was bitter or anything.
I gazed at the slinky fabric in Mist’s hands and forced a grin. “Guess the Archivist wants us to succeed, after all,” I said. “That, or he doesn’t want his favorite spy getting killed. Must be nice, working for someone who can give you fun toys like that.”
“I would think so,” Mist said, and pulled an identical suit out of the case. “Because there are three of them here.”
Holy shit. Three Viper suits? I stared at her to make sure she wasn’t joking, then looked down at the open case. It was hard to tell them apart, but there were indeed two more folded Viper suits in the case. Three suits, three dragons. Me, Ember and Mist.
And the second most powerful dragon in Talon backing us up.
“Okay,” I said, nodding as Mist watched me with that knowing smile. “So, you’re working for the Archivist, and he wants us to take down that island. This might not be such a bad thing, after all.”