Slayers

by C. J. Hill

  Tori’s throat felt tight. All of her choices, her freedom, was draining through her fingers.

  Down below them, the city lights continued to glow steadily against the darkness. Each light represented a life. A happy, oblivious life that had no idea of the sacrifices she was being asked to make.

  She didn’t know if she could do it.

  CHAPTER 13

  Brant heard the beeping of his cell phone and put his other call on hold. He knew Ethington wouldn’t like the interruption—considered himself too important to wait for anyone—but that was too bad. Brant had been expecting this text, and besides, it wouldn’t hurt to remind Ethington that he was a supplier, not the buyer. Brant paid him well enough, so he could also make him wait. News from Dragon Camp took precedence, especially now that the eggs were so close to hatching. Brant would have put the devil himself on hold in order for an update on what his enemies were doing.

  Brant, after all, was a careful man. His father had told him time and again never to underestimate the power of something that could kill you. His father had been referring to the dragons, but the advice applied to other aspects of life, too.

  The Slayers, for example. They were an unexpected complication. Granted, they were only a group of teenagers with a few powers and a misguided sense of justice, but they were still dangerous. He wasn’t about to forget that.

  Brant flipped open his cell phone and scanned the message. No wonder the text had been late. There was important news. Leo and Danielle hadn’t come back this year. Good. Any reduction in their forces was encouraging. Less bloodshed that way.

  His gaze involuntarily went to the picture of his son and daughter that sat on his bookshelf. Brant didn’t want unnecessary death. Especially not for teenagers, mere children, really. That was the difference between him and these knights-in-training; he would prefer not to hurt them, but they had no qualms about destroying him or the dragons.

  Their whole purpose was to eradicate the masterpieces of the animal kingdom. Ironic. In their free time, they were probably all petitioning to save the spotted cheetah and humpback whale. But not the dragon. Humankind had always hated dragons because they couldn’t beat them. People pitied only what they could easily slaughter. Perhaps that was why he pitied the kids at Dragon Camp. Their lives were in his hands, and they didn’t even know it.

  Brant stared at the picture of his children again, at the smiles that trusted him. He had promised he wouldn’t hurt any of the Slayers if he didn’t have to, and he was trying to keep that promise. At least for now. Promises were like laws; smart men knew when to break both.

  Killing the Slayers now however, would be bad for a lot of reasons. He wouldn’t want that sort of thing traced back to him. Not before the dragons were hatched and ready for their work. After that—well, then he would be at war with the government, and death was an unfortunate side effect of any revolution. Change always had a price tag. But once he took over, the people would realize he was a better ruler than the disorganized, self-interested mob that called themselves Congress—men who didn’t know anything, being led by a president who knew even less.

  Brant still remembered watching the U.S. president on television when he was a boy. Everywhere the U.S. president went—Europe, the Middle East—the media clamored around him. Cameras in hand, they waited for whatever words this leader would bestow on them, like eager seagulls waiting for falling food scraps.

  “When will he come to St. Helena,” Brant had asked his father, “so that he can meet with you?”

  “He won’t come here,” his father answered, barely hiding his scorn. “The United States’ presidents don’t consider us important enough to visit. He probably couldn’t find St. Helena on a map of the Atlantic.”

  The indignity of that slashed into Brant’s pride, even back then. “You’re more powerful than he is,” Brant said. “You can control dragons. You could destroy entire cities if you wanted.”

  “Yes,” his father said. “But nobody knows that.”

  That had been Brant’s first lesson on power: It was impossible to wield power unless people knew you could destroy them. If leaders didn’t have that knowledge, they never respected you.

  That would change soon enough. Brant wasn’t going to waste his power like so many of his ancestors had done. They should have ruled nations instead of hiding away on an island. But he would set that right. And Overdrake’s children would finally have the legacy they deserved.

  Brant scrolled down and read the rest of the message. Rosa and Bess had been sent to see if they could persuade Leo and Danielle to return to camp. This proved that not only were the Slayers woefully inexperienced, they were naive, as well. They should have realized as soon as Leo and Danielle didn’t reenroll for camp that not only had their powers vanished, but their memories had fled, too. Surely Dr. B had discovered that piece of information in his studies. By some odd twist of the brain, when the neural pathway to a Slayer’s powers withered, his mind twisted his memory of the powers, making excuses for what he could no longer understand.

  Dr. B must have learned this; he just didn’t want to accept it.

  Brant scrolled down, reading the rest of the text, and then his thumb froze on the phone. So another Slayer had finally made her way to the camp. Victoria Hampton. No one knew her power yet. She seemed reluctant to be involved at all. He studied the snapshot his contact had forwarded to him. She was beautiful, the senator’s daughter.

  Brant leaned back in his chair and tapped his thumb against the phone. He knew Senator Hampton. The Republicans hoped he’d make a presidential bid next election.

  Dr. B had always given the Slayers strict instructions not to tell anyone about their powers—not even their parents. As far as Brant knew, the children had kept this confidence. He’d never heard any whispers of rumors about dragon attacks from any of his sources in the government. But would Dr. B alter his tactics if he had the ear of such a powerful senator?

  This could change everything.

  Brant picked up his phone and texted a message back to his source. He ended it with two words. “Watch her.”

  CHAPTER 14

  When Jesse dropped Tori off at cabin 27’s porch—literally dropped her, because he wanted her to practice landing from eight feet in the air—she was debating which was worse: that she had to risk her life fighting dragons, or that she had to rearrange her life until then. Spending every summer here would put a quick end to any plans she had for competitive skating, or, for that matter, vacationing. Her choice of colleges had just gotten a lot narrower—no Ivy League schools. No study abroad. And what if she had an appendix rupture or something? Was she supposed to tell the doctors to operate without anesthesia?

  The cabin door was propped open. Even though Tori felt far too wound up to sleep she went inside to get ready for bed. Lilly and Alyssa were already showered, in their pajamas, and sitting on Alyssa’s bed giving themselves pedicures. They regarded her coolly.

  “I changed my mind about you bringing an iron to camp,” Lilly said. “It turned out to be useful after all.”

  Tori glanced at the top of the dresser where she’d left her iron. It was gone. “Where did you … ?” she started, and then caught sight of the iron. It was sitting on the floor propping the door open. She grabbed it and returned it to her dresser with a thud. The door swung shut.

  “There goes our cross breeze,” Alyssa said.

  Lilly calmly brushed red polish across a toenail. “That was great team support you showed up at the Easter grounds, Tori. If you storm off every time a fireball is launched your way, your team is doomed. Right now, you’re down by ninety points. I’m sure Jesse just loves you.”

  Alyssa dabbed a piece of toilet paper across the side of a toe to wipe away a smudge. “Look on the bright side. You might start a new fashion trend at your prep school—the scorched-hair style.”

  Then both Lilly and Alyssa giggled.

  These were the people who needed her, the ones she was suppos
ed to risk her life for? Tori ignored them and pulled her pajamas out of her dresser. She slammed the drawer shut, then grabbed the caddy that carried her facial soap, shampoo, conditioner, washcloth, and moisturizer. Without saying good-bye, she headed to the shower.

  One glimpse in the bathroom mirror confirmed that her hair was every bit as bad as she’d feared. The left side looked like someone had taken a machete to it.

  She let out a groan and ran her hand over it, hoping this would somehow encourage it to grow. And then, even though it was stupid to cry over hair, tears pooled in her eyes.

  She’d come to this camp with gorgeous, swishably long, cover girl hair. Now it was gone—a symbol of all the freedom she’d lost in one quick night. She was stuck at this camp with roommates who hated her, a camp director who might kill her before summer ended, and no real talent to help her fight the monsters that had suddenly become real.

  The tears came harder, and she sat down on the floor, ignoring the gritty dirt that was there.

  If only she could go back and change this day: rewind it, get back in the car with her sister, and drive away.

  Because anything could happen now. Instead of having to worry about homework and dates and finding high heels that didn’t cripple her when she wore them, she had to worry about fighting something that could roast her like a marshmallow.

  How did Jesse do it? How did any of them? How did they manage to be Slayers and still live normal lives?

  Tori took out the new phone and dialed her sister’s number. She made herself take deep breaths, calming herself so her voice didn’t crack. After three rings, Aprilynne said a questioning, “Hello?”

  “It’s me, Tori. I need you to drive to camp and pick me up.”

  Aprilynne let out a grunt. “It’s eleven o’clock.”

  Tori stood up and checked the door to make sure no one was around to hear her. “You don’t have to come right now, but can you please come tomorrow? Early. At quarter till seven.”

  “Do you realize what time I’d have to leave to make it there by six forty-five?” Before Tori could answer Aprilynne added, “Four fifteen.”

  “My new Jimmy Choo shoes—they’re yours.”

  A muffled sound came from the end of the line, probably not Aprilynne setting her alarm for 4:15. “How about I pick you up at nine o’clock and you just let me borrow them when I want.”

  “It has to be six forty-five. I don’t want anyone to know I’m leaving.”

  “Why? They’re going to notice you’ve gone.”

  Tori moved back inside so anyone looking toward the bathroom wouldn’t see her on the phone. “I don’t want to tell anyone before I go. I’ll throw in my Gucci handbag.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You’ll see when you get here.”

  Aprilynne let out a sigh. “Okay. The shoes and the handbag. I’ll see you at quarter till seven.”

  “I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Don’t say anything to anyone about picking me up.”

  Aprilynne yawned. “You know, if you could have held out for two more days, I would have made a lot of money in the when-will-Tori-bail-out-of that-crappy-camp bet.”

  “Gambling is bad for you anyway.”

  “I’ll be sure to mention that to Mom when I tell her she won.”

  That stung. Her own mother had given her less than twenty-four hours? “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tori said and hung up. Then she leaned against the wall and shut her eyes. Even though she felt better now that she’d talked to Aprilynne, her hands hadn’t stopped shaking.

  Finally she showered, changed, gathered up her things, and stepped outside. She stopped short. No glow illuminated the forest. Darkness had spread through the trees, leaving everything black and hidden. The only light came from the bathroom porch light behind her and the faint porch lights from cabins 26 and 27 in the distance. She peered into the night, trying to make out the shapes that had been so easy to see on her way to the shower. What had happened?

  Tori grasped her shower caddy to her chest and considered the possibility that she’d imagined everything and had gone insane. She reached up and ran her fingers through the left side of her hair. It was cold, wet, and still mournfully short.

  She hadn’t imagined the fireball.

  But where had her abilities gone?

  Taking tiny, cautious steps, she made her way toward cabin 27. She hadn’t seen any rocks or tree roots sticking up in the path on the way over, so nothing should trip her on the way back. Still, it was hard to make herself walk when she couldn’t see where to put her feet.

  After several minutes, she made it to the cabin. The other girls lay on their bunks, unrecognizable lumps under the covers.

  “I can’t see in the dark anymore,” Tori announced.

  “That’s because Dr. B turns off the simulator when we get back to camp,” Lilly said from underneath her covers. “Otherwise we’d have too much energy to sleep.”

  Oh. So it had just been longer than half an hour since she’d been in contact with the signal.

  Lilly rolled over with an exasperated tug of her covers. “The last one in every night locks the door.”

  Tori did, then made her way to where she remembered her bunk bed to be. She hadn’t noticed her energy leave. In fact, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep for quite a while.

  She fiddled with the cell phone Jesse had given her until she found the alarm function.

  “What time do you guys set your alarms to go running in the morning?”

  Alyssa, her voice already going flat with sleep, said, “You don’t need an alarm. When Dr. B turns on the simulator at seven, you’ll bolt out of bed.”

  “Okay,” Tori said. She set the alarm on her cell phone to vibrate at 6:00, crawled into bed, and slipped the phone under her back.

  The forest sounds filtered into the cabins. Crickets. A bird of some sort, or maybe a bat. Branches rustling. And then the dragon’s heartbeat.

  Tori rolled onto her side. “I thought you said Dr. B turned off the simulator?”

  “He did,” Alyssa said.

  “No, it’s—” Tori didn’t finish her sentence. The heartbeat had disappeared. She strained to pick it out again, but heard only the crickets and the wind.

  She rolled onto her back again, kept listening, kept straining. Nothing.

  Perhaps she’d fallen asleep for a second and dreamed the noise. That was probably it. Because even if the simulator was on, she was too far away to hear it. She shouldn’t freak herself out about the noise. It wasn’t like the dragon eggs were buried underneath her cabin.

  But just in case, Tori got out of bed, felt her way to the dresser, and retrieved her iPod. She put it on the most soothing playlist she had, then went back to bed. She listened to song after song, concentrating on the music, trying to make herself relax. I don’t have to stay here, she told herself. Aprilynne is coming in the morning. I could tell my parents I want to go to that ice skating clinic in Denver. I could be on a plane by tomorrow evening.

  But every time she thought of leaving, she saw Jesse, his brown eyes somber, standing alone, in front of a dragon.

  CHAPTER 15

  Jesse sat up before he opened his eyes. He stepped out of bed before he fully remembered where he was. He nearly bumped into Kody. Behind them, Dirk landed on the floor with a crash. Dirk swore, then stood up and brushed dirt off the front of his pajamas.

  “That’s it,” Dirk said. “I’m not sleeping on a top bunk anymore. Only people who can fly should sleep on the top.”

  “No way,” Jesse said. “I had the top bunk last year and never remembered I could fly until after I’d done a face plant.”

  Across the room, Shang pulled a crisp, white T-shirt over his head. “That’s why I always set my alarm for five minutes before the simulator goes on.”

  Kody stretched and grabbed a T-shirt from a drawer. “It only takes a couple of days to get used to it. We’ll be fine tomorrow.” He put a hand against the bunk bed frame, then lifte
d the bed’s legs from the ground and grinned. “Anybody up for a game of bed toss?”

  “Save your energy for later,” Jesse said. “You might need it.” After all, it had been two days since they’d come to camp, and Dr. B hadn’t thrown any surprises at them. Not even a paintball ambush. Dr. B liked to point out, sometimes a little too cheerfully, that the Slayers had to watch out for gunfire. Dragons couldn’t shoot guns, but Overdrake certainly could. They had to be alert and using their senses all the time.

  Instead of putting the bed down, Kody pulled the thing into the middle of the room. It made a shuddering bang and undoubtedly added a new set of dents to the floor. “I sure wish I could have a simulator around when I play football.” Kody flexed his muscles with satisfaction. “I love camp.”

  Dirk tossed his pajamas on his bed. “I bet Miss Socialite doesn’t. How much do you want to wager she pulls a Ryker before the end of the month?”

  “A Ryker’s mother, you mean,” Shang said. He combed through his sleek, black hair and checked his reflection in a small mirror that hung from a nail in the wall. He was the only one of the guys who cared how he looked before running. It wasn’t that he was vain, just orderly. He had some philosophy about neatness being part of inner peace and was always trying to get the rest of them to pick up their stuff.

  Shang put his comb back on the top of his dresser. “I bet Ryker still doesn’t even know about the dragons. He’s probably living on a houseboat with his parents in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.”

  During one of their many talks about dragons over the years, they decided that the ocean was the safest place to hide. If a dragon had nowhere to rest from a flight, he couldn’t come after you.

  “Tori’s all right,” Jesse said. “She just needs time to adjust.” He slipped one foot into his shoe and pulled the laces tight. “It’s a big shock for her to learn she has to spend the rest of her summers with Dirk. Anyone would freak out a little.”