by Katie French
He staggered backward a little, but quickly steadied himself and returned the hug. His warmth seeped into me, reaching the coldness that had started to settle in my core. He held me without saying a word, caressing my hair in gentle strokes. When I pulled away, he wiped away my tears with his thumb. His gaze brimmed with worry and something else I couldn’t decipher. For a moment, I was struck by his handsome features, his empathetic nature. I wanted to step into his embrace again, but I took a reluctant step back as his father approached us.
I glowered in the presence of the unyielding man.
“I don’t like being back any more than you do,” I said. “But my friends are here, and I’ve come to take them home.”
“You were reckless,” Ki’s father said. “You almost got yourself and Santiago killed.”
He had the dignity not to mention Dad.
“If we’re handing out adjectives, yours would be useless,” I said, holding his gaze.
A low murmur rose from the people who stood behind us. Maybe this man was their leader, and they didn’t talk to him this way, but he was nothing to me.
He narrowed his eyes, then inclined his head as if accepting the word I’d used to describe him. My eyes widened in surprise.
“I don’t expect you to understand the intricacies of our culture. Yet…” He said the last word with loaded emphasis, as if he was determined to do something about my ignorance. “But after seeing what Tara did to… that boy, we now understand the depth of our mistake.”
Another adjective came to my mind, and it wasn’t a mean one.
Honorable.
Not everyone could be gracious when accepting their mistakes. Much less grown-ups. But this man certainly was.
“I’m sure you want to see your friends.” He extended a hand toward a wooden cabin that lay a distance away from where the beach ended.
Anger and resentment still roiled in my gut. Being gracious wasn’t easy, as I was finding out; it took a lot of clenching of teeth and fists to accomplish.
Tom, Ki, Santiago, and even Fang stepped to my side. With them next to me, it was far easier to relax and rise to the challenge. They offered me their strength and support, and that was more than anyone could ask for.
I straightened my shoulders and headed toward the cabin.
Standing in the middle of the kitchen, I hugged Pickles to my chest. He purred and nuzzled my neck. He’d been overly loving during the last couple of days. Clearly, he missed Dad as much as I did, and I was his poor replacement. Swallowing hard, I gave him one last squeeze and set him down. Pickles and Mercedes were the only ones keeping me rooted to reality. My friend’s memories had been erased, leaving some weird gaps behind, which was nothing compared to the nightmares she’d endured with Tara Palmer. More than once, I’d wished I could talk to her about Dad, but it was better this way.
With a sigh, I shouldered my backpack. It was my first day back to school after the ordeal. Ki had suggested I skip, but staying home alone sounded far worse.
After locking the door to the house, I turned to find Mr. Webb from the city council getting out of his big, silver Cadillac. With a huff, he pulled his pants up and shaded his eyes to look up at the lighthouse.
Great.
I cringed. Could I make it to the Mustang before he caught me? I’d been expecting a visit from the city council at some point, but did it have to be today? I guessed I could always count on a stuffy city official to stir trouble when I least needed it. But I’d fought dragons, so I knew I could handle a middle-aged man.
“Miss McCarty,” he said when he got to me. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I said, thinking that the morning—though not necessarily good—had at least been decent before he showed up.
He rubbed a red bandana over his bald head, then stuffed it in his back pocket. The air was humid due to the rain from the night before. Now the sun was up, turning the day into a muggy mess. I hoped it helped turn him into a toad.
“I’m extremely sorry to hear your father wasn’t one of the people found down by Barimont Bay,” Mr. Webb said.
If he were truly sorry, would he sit here reminding me of what I’d lost?
“Thank you,” I murmured, averting my eyes and biting the inside of my cheek.
Two nights ago, after Mr. Liang—Ki and Fang’s father—had shown me that my few surviving friends were in good care, he’d brought me into a private room where other elder members of their dragon community sat waiting. There, they’d explained their plan for my friends and their return to Summers Lake, an eye-opening conversation to say the least.
“I’m sure you will agree,” Mr. Liang had said, “that we cannot allow your friends to rejoin the world—not knowing what they now know.”
“What are you going to do to them?” I’d asked in a panic.
“Nothing nefarious, I assure you. Yet, what we propose could be considered… unethical.”
“Unethical?”
“Well, we would like to erase their memories of what happened, including all memories of us… dragons.”
I tilted my head to one side. “You mean you can make them forget the nightmare they went through and the fact that dragons exist?”
“I know it’s underhanded, but—”
“Do it,” I said without hesitation. “Make them forget everything.”
Mr. Liang looked around the room, appearing somewhat surprised. The others, including Santiago’s father, nodded in approval and relief.
“What about Mercedes?” I had asked.
Mr. Liang cleared his throat. “Her memory extraction will prove vastly more difficult, but it can be done. She will have a gap of a few days, something like a post-traumatic stress-induced amnesia.”
I nodded, knowing my friend would give anything to go back to worrying about prom dates and dress fittings.
If they’d thought I wanted my friends to remember the horrors they’d experienced in those caves, they were crazy. After what had happened, Hailey and the others would have no chance at a normal life. They were the survivors, the ones left behind who would always wonder why they’d made it while the rest died. That would be hard enough. Letting them run around insisting that dragons had caused it all would only make their lives impossible. I knew that much. I’d been there.
“Very well,” Mr. Liang said, inclining his head.
“What about Frank?” I asked. “Can you help him? Can you undo what Tara did to him?”
Mr. Liang shook his head. “I’m afraid we cannot. What Tara Palmer did was not natural. We have no idea how to reverse it.”
“What will happen to him then?”
Mr. Liang sighed. “I fear we can’t let him go back to his family as he is, but we are willing to take him into our fold. We vow to protect him under our creed and laws.”
I understood why Frank couldn’t go back, but it still hurt to realize that his life, as he had imagined it, was not possible anymore. Outside of here, he would be considered a freak, and maybe not even his parents would accept him—better to let them think he was dead than have them cringe away in horror.
“As for the others,” Mr. Liang said, “once we’ve erased their memories, we’ll leave them somewhere safe and alert the authorities of where to find them.”
And that was how Hailey, Liam, and Jess had ended up in Lovers’ Cove near Barimont Bay with no recollection of what had happened to them. The police found them and took them to the hospital, where they gently but thoroughly interrogated them to no avail. Now, the search for the others, including Dad, continued.
Little did they know what a waste of time it was. Thirteen, including Dad, had been taken, and only five were alive. Not that Frank really counted.
“It’s a shame about your father,” Mr. Webb said now, walking toward the lighthouse and inspecting it from top to bottom. “Everyone in the council is concerned about him.” He glanced over his shoulder, bushy eyebrows raised. “We certainly hope he’s all right and will be found soon.” He paused,
letting his fake concern set in before going into what really had brought him here.
“In the meantime,” he continued, “we’re also concerned about Summers Lake and its most precious treasure.”
He gestured toward the lighthouse, then toed a loose paver on the path that led to the access door. It was the same one Dad had been meaning to repair on a “good” day, but days on which he felt strong enough for such a task had become few and far between, his muscles too weak for more than a short walk.
“I’ll take care of it,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Really?” He turned to face me, mock surprise on his face. “A young lady like you, about to graduate and go to college, how could you possibly—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.
“No?” He huffed, put his hands behind his back, and made a show of thinking very hard. “If I remember correctly, you’d already promised the council to take care of it. Yet, the lighthouse stood dark several times this past week.”
I clenched my hands around the shoulder straps of my backpack, managing to respond without showing my anger. “It won’t happen again. I was looking for my father and friends. I’m sure you and the other council members can understand that.”
“Certainly, dear. Still, upkeeping a place such as this requires many skills that I’m not sure you possess. We were forbearing with your father because of his condition, but…”
“So you’re gonna kick me out on the street, is that what you’re saying?”
He shook his head sadly and headed back toward his car. “No, not at all. We’re simply following the statues set in place for the protection of our dear historical monument. Nothing more, nothing less.” He pulled the driver’s side door open.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “And what does that mean exactly?”
“It means that we will be posting for the job of lighthouse keeper, and you are more than welcome to apply. Now, I’d better go before I make you late for school. Good day, Ms. McCarty.”
The Cadillac drove away while I stood frozen, the rest of my world collapsing around me. Where would I go? There was no way the council would give me the job. They probably already had someone in mind for the post, a relative or a friend who ticked every box in the application.
Holding back tears, I got in my car and drove to school, repeating a simple mantra in my head. One minute at a time. One minute at a time.
I couldn’t think ahead, couldn’t even imagine a future. I had hoped to stay to find a way back into the caves at Barimont Bay. Even if the task had proved impossible so far, I hadn’t planned to go anywhere until I found Dad and lay him to rest next to Mom. I’d also decided to postpone college, so I could learn more about what it meant to be a dragon warden. But without a place to live, how could I do it?
Was fate trying to tell me I was making a mistake? Was staying in Summers Lake the best choice for me? Would Mom and Dad agree with my decision?
These and other questions still whirled in my head as I parked in front of the high school. I stayed in the car for a few minutes, gathering my emotions and tucking them in the farthest corner of my soul. My ring pulsed, releasing a wave of warmth that put a seal over that secret door. I didn’t need my imaginary pixies anymore.
I had my very real, very powerful ring.
“Thank you,” I whispered at it, then got out of the car.
“Lila,” a deep voice called behind me.
I turned to find Tom, Ki, and Santiago, standing side by side. Their expressions were an odd mixture of concern and anticipation.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, heart leaping to my throat.
They stepped off the sidewalk in unison, leading with the same foot. They marched in my direction, looking like three supermodels on a runway. They were too much look at. Yet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them, same as every other girl around.
“Hola, amor,” Santiago said. “We have news.”
“News?” I’d had enough news lately, and I couldn’t handle more.
“Good news,” Ki added, probably registering the dread in my eyes. Tom leaned in to whisper something in my ear. His breath brushed me gently. As he told me the news, all the emotions I’d carefully sealed away rushed out, stealing my breath. He pulled away, a tentative smile on his lips. Ki and Santiago’s eyes sparkled, showing me how happy they were for me.
I glanced toward the school entrance, then back at the boys.
“I have to go,” I said, knowing there was no way I could sit through class, not anymore.
“We’re coming with you,” Ki said.
We all got in the Mustang and drove out of the parking lot, back toward the lighthouse and the boat that had been tied by the shore ever since my first trip to the mirror island.
Santiago rode shotgun, casting glances my way as he fooled with the radio.
I looked in the rearview mirror, meeting Tom and Ki’s gazes in turn. Cool air blew through the open windows. For the first time in a while, I allowed myself a smile.
Dad was alive.
The elder dragons had received word from the Deeploch Den. Tara Palmer had gone to them with complaints about how the other dens had broken creed and interfered with her plans. Now she was demanding reparations and holding my father hostage until her stipulations were met.
It was still a horrible situation, but knowing Dad was alive made all the difference in the world.
“We’ll get him back,” Ki assured me, putting a hand on my shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“And we’ll bring my mother to justice,” Tom added. “Even if we have to rewrite the entire Dragon Creed itself.”
“Damn right,” Santiago agreed.
Getting Dad back would not be easy, but I had my ring, my sword, and my three dragons. I would not fail this time. I would rescue Dad, and I would make sure Tara Palmer paid for what she’d done.
Lila McCarty had her own creed: no one messed with the people she loved.
BOOK TWO AVAILABLE IN PREORDER NOW!
Nebulous, Book Two available now!
PREORDER TODAY
SNEAK PEEK OF THE BREEDERS
THE BREEDERS BOOK ONE
Do you miss The Hunger Games? Unable to find a book that will keep you turning pages long into the night?
100,000 copies sold. 400 four and five-star reviews. Kindle Book Awards 2014 Semi-finalist. Multiple category Amazon Best Seller. You’ve found your next obsession.
Riley is one of the world’s last free women. When Riley was born, her mother escaped the Breeders, the group of doctors using cruel experiments to bolster the dwindling human race. Her parents do everything possible to keep her from their clutches-moving from one desolate farm after another. But, the Breeders control everything.
And they’re hunting Riley.
When the local Sheriff abducts the other members of her family, Riley and her brother Ethan are left to starve. Then Clay arrives, the handsome gunslinger who seems determined to make up for past sins. But Clay can’t know she’s female, or he might sell her to the very people she’s trying to avoid.
As Riley’s affection for Clay grows she wonders can she trust him with her secret? She’s worth a lifetime’s wages. How could anyone, even someone she’s growing to love, give up an opportunity like that?
For fans of The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Gender Game, The Breeders is a book that will have you turning pages long past your bedtime.
Pick up your copy today.
CHAPTER ONE
When the dust cloud appears, we know they are coming.
My mama and I spy the cloud churning up the road at the same time. Her potato peeler clatters to the porch floor, sending goose flesh over my arms. I stare at the cloud kicked up by dozens of approaching tires and then back to my mother. There’s no mistaking it. The fear is written on her face.
She grips my shoulder, hand already shaking. “Get in the cellar.” Her face tightens. “Now.”
Her
rocking chair scrapes against the porch floorboards. She yanks open the screen door and runs into the house, yelling for my brother.
I stand up, my own hands trembling now. The advance of the dust cloud has me riveted, like an animal caught in headlights. It’s what we’ve drilled for, prepared for, whispered about at night. And now they’re coming.
My mama’s frantic screams pierce my thoughts. “Riley, the storm cellar! Hurry!”
I shake myself out of my stupor and force my jellied legs to move. Running into the house, I spy my stepfather, Arn, at the pitted kitchen table. He slips round after round into his hunting rifle, his calloused fingers fumbling for more in the box that holds too few. He drops one. It hits on the floor and rolls under the table.
“Goddammit!” he swears. His leathery forehead wrinkles as he searches frantically.
I run over, grab it and hand it to him. The bullet feels cold against my hot palm.
His eyes latch onto mine and a sadness creeps over his face. This frightens me more than anything. He grabs our pistol off the table and thrusts it forward. “You’ll need this.” His eyes say one gun won’t be enough.
The revolver is heavy and solid in my trembling hand. I curl my fingers over the wooden grip, worn smooth with use. I let my index finger stray to the trigger, place my other hand under the grip like he taught me and aim at the dust cloud. I look up at him, unable to ask what I need to know.
In this moment Arn looks old. His sun-beaten face is carved by wrinkles and his forehead is dotted with sweat. The patched overalls sag on his too-thin body. Before this, he was out milking the cow or mucking out the barn, mundane, boring tasks that I wish he could go back to now. Arn grabs both my shoulders and fixes me with frightened blue eyes. “You ‘member what I taught you?”
“Is it the Breeders? It is, isn’t it?” My voice breaks with the terror that’s sticking to my insides and knotting my stomach. Arn says nothing. He doesn’t have to. His face tells me everything I need to know.
“I can fight.” The gun trembles, but I lock my elbows and grit my teeth. I want this chance to face the people who’ve been hunting us our whole lives.
