Legion

  He gave me a thin smile as his helpers finished their task and walked away, leaving me with about a dozen wires connecting my skull to the computer bank. “But you are a dragon,” the scientist continued. “In the decades I have spent among your kind, I have seen and come to accept certain things. You are not like us. Your minds are more like a computer than anything else—logical and calculating, capable of retaining massive amounts of information, able to recall the smallest fact across hundreds of years. You are truly a remarkable race, I will admit. But you are not human. And even if the Elder Wyrm was not expecting me to complete this procedure, I have worked on this project for too many years to stop now. Now, at last, we will see if immortality is really possible.”

  Another scientist approached and handed him the first needle and syringe. “Well, we are almost ready to begin,” the head scientist stated, pressing the syringe so that a few drops of clear liquid squirted out the top. He nodded in satisfaction and looked down at me again. “I don’t know about you, but I am quite excited. Aren’t you just a little pleased to know you will be contributing to such a massive breakthrough? Just think of what this will mean for your entire race.”

  “Fuck you,” I snarled, the most elegant thing I could come up with at the moment. He chuckled, shaking his head.

  “Well, I would say that such language is unwarranted, but in a few hours it’s not going to matter.” He raised the needle. “This will put your brain into a relaxed state, which will make it easier for us to extract your memories. It shouldn’t take long, but you might experience some mild to severe hallucinations as the drug takes effect. Are you ready?” He lowered the needle toward my arm. “Any last words?”

  I was shaking violently, but forced my voice to be even. “I think I’m going to stick with my original thought of ‘fuck you.’”

  “Hmm, not the most original, but if that is what you feel...” He slid the needle into my arm and injected the contents. “Farewell, Ember Hill,” he said as he stepped back. “I hope you go gently into that good night. If all goes well, the next time we speak, I will be addressing the Elder Wyrm.”

  Garret, I thought as the ceiling started to sway. Riley. I’m sorry. Wherever you are, I hope you can get out of here. Escape, and live to fight Talon another day. You’ll just have to do it without me.

  RILEY

  “Well,” St. George muttered beside me, “that could have gone worse, I suppose.”

  I cracked open one puffy eye to glare at him, trying to focus through the throbbing in my skull. And ribs. And face. The soldier lay on his back, much like I was doing, and looked nearly as awful as I felt. Nearly, because the interrogator’s questions had been directed mostly at me. Though St. George hadn’t escaped unscathed, either. He had, I would grudgingly admit, held up like a trooper, refusing to break even through the worst of it. Luther was not the most subtle of interrogators, preferring the “answer my question or my minions will punch you in the face” technique, rather than the mind games I knew Mist was capable of. And it had been a long session, at least several hours. It was probably the middle of the night or very early morning, though it was impossible to tell time in this place. The only good part was watching that little bastard’s face when he realized we weren’t going to give him what he wanted. “How, exactly?” I croaked.

  “At least they didn’t kill us.”

  “Not certain if that’s a good thing right now, St. George,” I replied. “That just means they can do this again in a few hours.” Gingerly, I attempted to sit up. Pain ricocheted through my body, and I grimaced. “Ow. Okay, that’s a cracked rib. Maybe a couple cracked ribs. Bastards.” I slumped against the wall, breathing slowly and waiting for the stabbing sensation to fade. A few feet away, the soldier still lay on his back, gazing at the ceiling.

  “They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?”

  I let out a slow breath. “Yeah,” I muttered, feeling something dark and cold settle over me. “Maybe not at the same time—they’ll still need one of us to use as leverage against Ember. But...yeah, they’re going to kill us.”

  St. George nodded slowly, as if he’d already expected it. Slumping against the wall, I let my head fall back, regret and failure turning sourly in my stomach. I thought of Wes, my hatchlings, my underground. Who would protect them, now that I was gone? Wes was competent and the smartest human I’d ever met, but he didn’t have the survival skills needed to keep everyone safe. I wished I could have prepared them better.

  And I wished I could’ve seen Ember, one last time.

  “How long?” St. George asked, his own voice contemplative. As if he, too, was thinking of everything he regretted, everything he wished he could have done. I shook my head.

  “Probably not long. I imagine they’ll want at least one more interrogation session. With the right drugs this time.”

  St. George raised his head, frowning.

  “Right drugs? What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve never been under the effects of a truth serum, have you?” I asked, and he shook his head. “I have. With Mist actually.” I leaned my head against the wall, remembering that night in Vegas and the first interrogation with the other Basilisk. Even with my training, resolve and determination not to talk, I’d almost given up my underground. The various drugs the Talon scientists had created specifically for use against our kind were nasty and extremely potent; the organization had a long history of getting what they wanted, no matter what.

  “I don’t know what she stuck us with at the beginning of the session,” I went on, hearing the soldier struggle upright, “but it wasn’t sodium thiopental, or their version of truth serum. We’d both be babbling like a pair of drunken idiots if it was.”

  “So, she lied.” He settled against the wall next to me, his voice tight as he leaned carefully into the metal. In my peripheral vision, I could see a trickle of dried blood running down his temple, a dark bruise beginning to form above one eye. From the way my whole face was throbbing, I knew I looked just as rough. “Or made a mistake.”

  “Mist doesn’t make mistakes.” I shifted to a more comfortable position, one that didn’t put pressure on my injured ribs. “She’s a Basilisk. We’re trained to remember the tiniest detail, no matter how insignificant, because our lives may depend on it. And you didn’t spend much time with her, but from what I saw...” I shook my head. “She’s good. Much too good to forget something as important as dosing your interrogation victims with the right drug.”

  He eyed me from against the wall. “If she was that good, how did you escape the first time?”

  “I said she was good.” Despite the hopeless situation, I grinned, which turned out to be rather painful as my cut lip tore open again. “But I’m better.”

  “Well, nice to see that my abilities weren’t completely written off.”

  I looked up. Mist stood in front of the cell door, arms crossed as she peered through the bars at us. Her blue eyes raked over us both, assessing, before she smirked. “Luther certainly did a number on you both, didn’t he?” she observed. “Unfortunate that had to happen, but from the hissy fit he was throwing when he left this morning, I’m guessing you didn’t tell him anything.”

  I threw back my own smirk. “Is that why you’re here, Mist? Come to finish the job? You think you can do better?” She probably could. Dragon constitution or no, I ached. My head hurt, my face felt swollen to twice its size and moving the wrong way sent a sharp twinge through my ribs. The thought of yet another “interrogation” session made my gut curl with dread.

  I just wanted to lie down on the nice, cold floor and let my bruises start to heal. But showing weakness like that to a Basilisk, who was trained to spot and exploit the tiniest flaws and weak points, was a huge mistake. Even if she was going to kill us afterward. So I rose, ignoring the pain in my side, and walked to the front of the cell, staring at her t
hrough the bars. She gazed coolly back, unconcerned, and I narrowed my eyes.

  “What’s your game?” I asked. “I know you didn’t give us the wrong drug by accident.” I curled my lip into a smile. “Or was that the plan? You knew Luther would be taking over the interrogation, and you didn’t want him to be the one to make us talk. That honor would be all yours.”

  “You do have a very high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” Mist gave me a look that was both subtly amused and disgusted at the same time. “I wasn’t expecting Dante to show up, or for Luther to take over,” she admitted. “As for what I stuck you with, it was estazolam.”

  I frowned. “Estazolam? But that’s—”

  “A mild sedative. That made you feel slightly drowsy.” Mist made a vague gesture toward my face. “I had to drug you with something to make it seem like a standard interrogation, in case anyone was watching. In fact, I was about to share that bit of information with you in the interrogation room when Dante came in and interrupted us.”

  “Why would you do that?” St. George asked, echoing my confusion. He hadn’t moved from where he sat against the wall, and I didn’t blame him. He was, after all, just a human. A tough human, granted, but not quite as resistant to pain and injury as a dragon.

  Mist sighed.

  “I would think it was obvious,” she said, and before I could reply that no, it really was not, she added, “I’m here to help you escape, of course. But we’ll have to move fast. There’s not a lot of time.”

  In the moment of stunned silence that followed, my heart gave a violent leap. Escape. I had nearly given up hope a few minutes ago. I’d known that no one would be coming for us. There was no way out of Talon. I’d expected another interrogation session or two and then, when they’d gotten everything they could from me and the soldier, they would kill us both. That was how Talon worked. Even if they were keeping us alive to ensure Ember’s cooperation, as soon as they got what they wanted, they would get rid of us. We were disposable. Unimportant.

  But if Mist was offering to help us escape...

  Ruthlessly, I stifled those thoughts, refusing to believe. This was Mist, the Basilisk who, not three months ago, had lured me into trusting her only to betray that trust. She hadn’t given any indication of wanting to go rogue before; in her own words that night: I am what Talon requires. The organization entrusted me with this task, and I will not fail them. She wouldn’t throw everything away to go rogue now.

  “Oh, of course, why didn’t I get that?” I said, sneering at the pale-haired girl on the other side of the bars. “Because that makes perfect sense—the loyal Talon employee helping their most infamous criminal escape the organization, betraying everything in the process.” I shook my head. “You, going rogue? Why in the world would you think I’d believe that?”

  Mist’s placid expression didn’t change. “You did.”

  “I had my reasons.”

  “And I have mine.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think you’re the only one with secrets, Cobalt? Do you think you’re the only dragon who feels trapped by the organization? Who has his own agendas, not just Talon’s?”

  This was a completely different attitude than the one I had encountered before. And I trusted this change of heart as much as I trusted a live viper. “Why would you help us?” I demanded. “A couple months ago, you were trying your damnedest to expose my network, and kill me in the process. What changed?”

  “I had a job to do then,” Mist answered, unrepentant. “Just like I have a job to do now.” Her eyes flicked back to me and narrowed. “Make no mistake, Cobalt, it wasn’t my call to help you tonight. I’m just following orders.”

  “Whose?” I asked, incredulous.

  The hint of a smile crossed the girl’s face. “My employer would rather remain anonymous,” she said. “For safety. I’m sure you understand.” She glanced back at me, the amusement fading as a shadow of impatience crossed her face. “We don’t have much time,” she said in a low voice. “I can get you out of here, on one condition.”

  Aha, there it was. I knew she wouldn’t do this out of the goodness of her heart. “Let me guess,” I said. “You need our help.”

  “I don’t need you,” Mist answered. “I need that hacker friend of yours.”

  “What do you want with Wes?” I growled.

  Mist sighed. “There’s a sensitive file my employer wants me to steal,” she explained. “But it’s too heavily encrypted for me to find by myself. And as I assume your human hacker friend wouldn’t trust a word I say, I figure he needs to hear it from you.” She glanced at the door, as if making sure no one was coming in, before continuing in a lower voice. “This is the deal, Cobalt—I get you to that computer, you contact your computer genius and help me steal the information I need. Tonight. Then we leave the premises before Talon realizes what’s happened.”

  “Just me? What about St. George?”

  She gave the human a dubious look. “I doubt he can even stand, much less walk. Luther’s ‘techniques’ are intended for dragons, after all.” The girl shook her head, frowning. “There’s no time to wait for him to heal. We have to...”

  She trailed off, a look of mild shock crossing her face. I glanced over my shoulder, just as St. George rose and walked calmly to the front of the cell. His jaw was set, tight with suppressed pain, but there were no obvious signs of injury, not even a limp, as he drew close to the bars.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he told the Basilisk in an even voice. “I’m fine. I’ll keep up.”

  Mist appraised him. It was clear she was surprised to see him on his feet and was observing him carefully to see if he was as hale and healthy as he claimed. To be honest, I was a little surprised, too. The human was tough, but not dragon tough. Unless there was something I was missing. Something...

  Oh, crap. Dazed, I stared at the soldier as my brain finally put the pieces together. This wasn’t the first time the human had healed abnormally fast, not the first time he could stand when it should’ve been impossible. Is that the reason he isn’t dead now? What kind of freak did I create?

  I kept these thoughts to myself. Now was not the time to dwell on anything but escaping this god-awful hellhole. Mist continued to appraise the soldier, unaware of my sudden realization. St. George gazed back calmly, and she shrugged.

  “If you can keep up, human, I’m not going to stop you.” Her gaze narrowed. “But if you fall behind, don’t expect me to stop. My mission is to retrieve that file—nothing else matters.”

  “And you would trust us to help you?” I asked. “Just like that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? It’s not like you can report me to Talon, not unless you wish to be caught again. Of course, you can try to overpower me and escape by yourselves...” Her lip curled, as if she found that thought amusing. “But since I am aware that your last dose of Dractylpromazine wasn’t even an hour ago, and I can still Shift without fail, that seems imprudent. The far wiser course would be to do what I ask. So...” She stared me down. “Do we have a deal?”

  To my surprise, it was the soldier who answered.

  “No,” he said quietly. Mist blinked at him in shock. “Not without Ember,” he went on as I kicked myself for not thinking of her sooner. “I’m not leaving her here. You want our help,” he said, glancing at me, “you get her out, too.”

  “That might be impossible,” Mist replied, sounding annoyed. “She was taken to the private lab early this morning. I have no idea what they’re going to do to her, but only a few scientists and a handful of guards are allowed past those doors. Trying to rescue one more person could put us, and the mission, in jeopardy. Freeing the two of you is going to be difficult enough. We can’t risk it.”

  “Sorry, Mist.” I crossed my arms. “But I’m going to agree with my soldier friend. Ember comes, too, or no deal.”

  Her lips thinned, as if
our insistence on rescuing Ember was throwing a wrench into her plans. “You would throw away your one chance of escaping Talon?” she asked. “They’re planning to kill you both tomorrow, you know. If you stay here, you’re going to die.”

  “And you’ll never get what you need,” I told her, and the soldier nodded. I was playing hardball, but neither of us was bluffing. I would not leave Ember behind. I would rather stay and let Talon kill me than have Ember think I abandoned her. I knew St. George felt the same. “You get her out,” I said, “and we’ll help you in return. If not, we all die and you fail your mission. But we’re not leaving without her.”

  The girl closed her eyes. Apparently, she had not expected this. “Very well,” she said. “She’ll be on the last floor. Once we get the information I need, I’ll take you down to the lab, and we can try to rescue her, as well. That’s the best I can offer.”

  “Ah, sorry.” I shook my head. “We get Ember out first, then we’ll help you get what you need.”

  She raised a brow. “You are awfully demanding for being on the wrong side of the bars,” she mused. “And what do we do with her once we find her? Waltz back through the building with the most recognizable dragon in Talon? What if she’s drugged or incapacitated in some way? How are we going to get to the information while dragging her along?”

  “I’m sure you can find a way,” I said, but Mist’s eyes hardened.

  “No.” She shook her head, crossing her arms. “I’m not going to risk it. I need whatever is on that computer, and getting to it will be dangerous enough without trying to sneak Ember Hill through the building. Once we rescue her, we’ll have a limited amount of time to get out before Talon’s entire security force comes after us. There’ll be no time for anything else.”

  “What if we split up?” St. George suggested. “I can go after Ember while you and Riley go after the file.”