Rogue (The Talon Saga Book 2)

by Julie Kagawa

  “What do you mean, they’re right behind you?” Riley snapped, stalking toward Wes, who had already locked the door and was peering through the eyehole. “St. George doesn’t know who you are, they’ve never seen you before. How would they know you’re even a target?”

  “I have no idea, mate, but someone was staring at me in the parking lot,” Wes snapped, spinning around. “And when I was driving back, I noticed I’d picked up a tail. That’s why it took me so bloody long to get here. I was trying to lose the bastards, but they could still be out there.”

  Riley walked to the edge of the windows and peered through the glass, keeping his back to the wall. “I don’t see anyone,” he muttered. “Maybe you lost them.”

  “They’re out there.” Garret’s quiet voice cut through the tension. We all glanced at him, standing against the wall with his arms crossed. His stance was weirdly calm. “If this really is St. George, the surveyors Wes saw will be narrowing the houses down right now. The assault team is probably on its way. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Then we need to leave.” Riley strode out of the kitchen. “Right now. While there’s still daylight. Wes, get everything together.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked as Wes hurried out of the room, muttering curses. Riley turned to look at me, frowning slightly.

  “Into the city,” he said. “Downtown, where there’s lots of people. The Order won’t try to murder us in a crowd. At least, I hope they won’t resort to that.” He stabbed a glare in Garret’s direction before turning back. “Hiding in plain sight has always been a good tactic for us. We disappear into the crowds, and neither Talon nor the Order can come after us without arousing suspicion. Besides, there’s someone there I have to see. We just needed you to wake up before we left.”

  I felt a brief stab of guilt. “You were all waiting on me?”

  One corner of his mouth twisted up. “Kinda hard to hide a dragon in a hotel room, Firebrand. The fire marshal would blow a gasket.” He brushed my arm, a brief, light touch that sent curls of heat through my insides. “Hurry and get packed so we can get out of here. I really don’t feel like seeing St. George again.”

  We gathered everything, which took only a few minutes. I didn’t have anything except my backpack with some clothes and a couple small personal things. Wes had his laptop, and Garret had the gun he’d taken from the Order and the borrowed clothes on his back. Everything else fit into a single duffel bag, which Riley swung over his shoulder. The rogue traveled light and efficient, ready to pack up and move at a word. Everything was disposable; clothes, vehicles, places to stay. In fact, the only thing I knew he kept with him at all times was that dusty leather jacket.

  “All right,” he muttered, staring through the peephole in the front door as we crowded behind him. At my side, Garret pressed close, making my heart skip. I could feel his presence, burning across my skin, even as I tried to focus. “I don’t see anything out there,” Riley went on, his gaze scanning one end of the street to the other. “Looks like we’re still in the clear.”

  “Don’t be fooled,” Garret murmured. “If St. George is out there, watching us, you won’t be able to see them.”

  Riley snorted without turning around. “Well we certainly can’t sit here until they kick down the door,” he growled, and turned the knob. Bloodred sunlight spilled through the crack as he pulled the door open, and dying sun shone directly into my eyes, making me squint. For a moment, he didn’t move from the frame, casting one final look around the empty street. Shielding my eyes, I peered past his shoulder, searching for anything out of place. The yards and streets were empty; no suspiciously parked cars, no “electricians” or “painters” pretending to be working nearby. Everything seemed perfectly normal. The van sat inconspicuously at the edge of the driveway, but it seemed an impossible distance away.

  “Okay,” Riley went on, pulling the door back and stepping into the open. “All clear. So far, so—”

  A muffled crack rang out from nowhere, making my heart jump to my throat. A sharp hiss followed the gunshot, and the van jerked, then sagged to one side, its back tires deflated in an instant.

  “Shit!” Riley lunged back inside and slammed the door, as the rest of us backed hastily away. “Dammit, they’re already here.” Another crack rang out, and the front window shattered with a ringing cacophony, sending glass raining to the ground. I yelped, covering my face as splinters flew everywhere, and Garret grabbed my wrist, dragging me away from the glass.

  “Stay back from the windows,” he ordered, pushing me against the wall beside the window frame. I grunted at the impact and scowled at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. His gaze, narrowed and grim, was on the rows of houses beyond the broken glass. “Snipers,” he breathed, as Riley pressed himself to the other side of the frame, his lips curled in a silent snarl. “They’ve found us.”

  “Brilliant,” Wes spat from behind the couch. “Snipers, that’s bloody fabulous. I am so glad we risked life and limb to rescue you, St. George.” He glared daggers at Garret, as if wishing the next bullet would make the soldier’s head explode. “I don’t suppose giving you back will make them leave us alone?”

  “Over my dead body,” I snarled at Wes, my stomach clenching violently at the thought. “Try it, and I’ll throw you through that window.”

  “It wouldn’t matter, anyway,” Garret replied in a serious voice, as if Wes’s suggestion was actually legitimate. He looked down at me, his expression pained. “I would surrender to them,” he said, “if I thought the Order would spare you. But they’re here for all of us, and they won’t bargain with dragons. I’m sorry, Ember.”

  I glared back at him. “I wouldn’t let you go, anyway. So you can stop being so damned fatalistic. No one is giving anyone up. We’re getting out of here together, or not at all.”

  He blinked, a raw, almost vulnerable look passing through his eyes, and we stared at each other a moment. Outside, it was eerily silent. The sunlight slanting through the broken window caught on shards of glass and glittered red, like drops of blood.

  Riley’s low, frustrated growl broke the silence. “Dammit, where are they?” he muttered, peeking cautiously around the frame, careful to keep his head back. “Why don’t they just charge in and shoot us already?”

  “This isn’t the full strike force.” Garret stared out the window, his expression grave. “Not yet. When the survey team followed Wes back, they had to alert headquarters to let them know they found the targets. They have the sniper guarding the house just to pin us down, make sure we don’t leave until the assault team arrives.”

  Wes swore again, peering around the sofa. “Right, then, if that’s the case, I vote we not stand here and let them pick us off. And since the van is now shot to hell, who’s up for sneaking out the back door?”

  “No.” Garret shook his head. “That would be a bad idea. The sniper will be positioned in a spot where he has a full view of the neighborhood. If we try to leave, he’ll just as easily pick us off from where he is now. It’s not worth the risk.”

  Riley snorted. “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you, St. George?”

  Garret’s voice was flat. “It’s what I would do.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Shot kids in the back while they were running away?”

  “Guys,” I said in exasperation, glaring at Riley. “This isn’t helping. Focus, please. Garret…” I glanced at the soldier, touching his arm. “You know St. George. You know how they think. What can we do?”

  Garret nodded, looking thoughtful. “We’ll need to neutralize the threat first,” he replied, slipping into soldier mode, logical and calculating. “Find out where the shooter is, sneak around and take him out before the rest of the team arrives.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Riley frowned, gesturing to the broken window. “And how are we suppo
sed to find where this shooter is without taking a hole to the head? I don’t feel like playing whack-a-mole with a trained sniper right now.”

  Garret edged close to the window, keeping his back pressed to the wall. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if preparing himself. Then, before I could stop him, he straightened and peered through the frame, leaving his whole head exposed. Almost immediately, a shot rang out, slamming into the sill and tearing away chunks of wood in an explosion of splinters as he ducked back. I flinched, pressing close to Garret with my heart thudding against my ribs, but he wasn’t even breathing hard.

  “Jeez, Garret!” My voice sounded shaky, unlike the soldier beside me. He straightened, looking perfectly calm, like getting shot at by snipers was routine. I scowled and smacked his arm. “Are you crazy?” I demanded. “You want to get your head exploded? Don’t do that again. We’ll find the shooter another way.”

  “One block down,” he murmured, making me frown with confusion. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed, as if recalling an image from memory. “Across the street on the corner. There’s a two-story house with an attic window. Foreclosed, I think. The shots are coming from that direction.”

  I stared at him in amazement. “You got all that just now?”

  “Partly.” He peered out the window, keeping his back against the wall and his head inside this time. “But I observed the area when we first arrived, made note of all the places we might be attacked, where someone could set up an ambush. The house on the corner would be Tristan’s ideal…” He stopped, his jaw tightening. “It makes the most tactical sense,” he finished stiffly.

  “Okay,” I said. I wished I could peek out the window, see the house for myself, but I also didn’t want to risk a bullet between the eyes. I didn’t know if I’d be fast enough, especially now that the shooter knew where we were, and maybe had his crosshairs trained right at me. “So we know where the sniper is. What now?”

  Garret drew away from the window, face grim. “Wait here,” he said. “Stay inside, I’ll try to get close enough to take him out.”

  “What? You’re not doing this alone.” He ignored me as he sidled past, keeping close to the walls, and I grabbed the back of his shirt. “What if there’s more than one?” I insisted as he turned in my grasp, his face stony. “What if he has a partner and you get hurt, or shot? There’ll be no one around to help. You need someone watching your back, at least.”

  “Firebrand,” Riley warned in a no-way-in-hell voice, and I turned to glare at him, too.

  “What?” I demanded, still keeping a tight hold of Garret’s shirt. “I can do this. I’ve been trained to do this. Lilith taught me herself, or did you forget that I was supposed to be a Talon assassin?” He took a breath to argue, and I raised my chin. “I seem to remember sneaking into a heavily armed St. George base a few nights ago and doing just fine.”

  “Until you got shot!” Riley made as if to stalk forward, then jerked back, away from the window. His eyes glowed angrily as they met mine. “This isn’t a normal bullet, Firebrand,” he said. “This isn’t something you can recover from. You get hit in the head with a sniper round, you don’t have a head anymore.”

  “I won’t get shot.”

  “You can’t know that!”

  “Ember.” A strong hand closed over mine, gently prying me loose. I turned back to meet Garret’s steely eyes, gazing down at me. His face was expressionless, and for a moment, I didn’t know if he would tell me to stay behind or not. Which was too bad, because I was coming with him whether he liked it or not. But then he gave a small sigh and released my hand, his gaze flicking out the window.

  “We’ll have to move fast,” he said, scanning the street like he was planning the best route to the sniper perch. “Stay low, keep your head down and don’t stop moving. A moving target is much harder to hit. We’ll have to circle around, and we’ll stay in cover as much as we can, but don’t panic if you’re shot at. And don’t freeze, no matter what. The sniper will likely have a partner guarding his back, too, so we’ll probably have to deal with more than one. Do you have a weapon?”

  I shook my head, ignoring the fear spreading through my insides, making my stomach curl. “I won’t need one.”

  Behind me, Riley made an impatient sound and reached for something at his back. “Dammit, Ember,” he growled. “Yes, you will. Here.” He tossed the pistol at me, and my heart lurched as I caught it. “Just don’t get yourself killed, all right?”

  His eyes stabbed at me, and I couldn’t tell if he was furious, worried, or absolutely terrified, before they shifted to Garret. “We’re running out of time,” he said, his voice clipped and matter-of-fact. “What do you need on our end, St. George?”

  “We’ll never make it to the house if the sniper sees us coming,” Garret replied calmly. “Can you cause a distraction? Something that will take the shooter’s focus off the surrounding area for a few seconds?”

  “Yeah.” Riley nodded, and raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I can do that. Wes…” He glanced at the human, still huddled behind the couch. “Get ready to move. You’re in charge of finding us another car, now that the van’s been shot to hell.” There was a muffled curse behind the sofa, and Riley turned back to us. “Get going. I’ll make sure their attention is elsewhere.”

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’ll know it when you see it.”

  “Right.” I took a breath and glanced at the soldier beside me. “Okay,” I whispered, resolved for what I had to do. “Ready if you are.”

  “Ember.”

  Riley’s voice was almost strangled. I looked back to find those piercing gold eyes on me, his expression tormented. “Don’t get hurt, Firebrand,” he said in a low voice, meant only for the two of us. “I don’t think I could take it this time. Come back alive, okay?”

  A lump caught in my throat, and I nodded.

  Garret brushed my arm, indicating for me to follow. With one last look at Riley, I turned away, trailing the soldier through the living room and out the back door, stepping into a dusty, weed-strewn yard. We sidled around the house, keeping our backs to the wall, until we came to the corner and the edge of the driveway. Garret peeked around the wall, his gaze scanning the open street and the rows of houses across from us. I braced myself against him to peek over his shoulder, feeling the tension lining his back.

  “When do we move?” I whispered, thinking that the distance from one side of the road to the other had never looked so far.

  “We have to wait for the distraction,” Garret replied, easing back. “Right now, we’re right in the shooter’s line of sight. We have to get across the road and behind the houses without being seen.”

  I swallowed. “I wonder what Riley’s going to—”

  There was a roar, a sudden inrush of air, and a window above us exploded into shards of heat and flames. Glass and splinters of burning wood showered us, making me flinch and press against the wall, as a massive firestorm erupted inside the house. As Riley launched his distraction in the most dragony way possible.

  Garret tapped my leg. “Now.”

  Garret

  I darted from the house and sprinted across the road as quickly as I could, Ember close at my heels. I knew we were exposed; even with the rogue’s distraction, there was a chance the sniper would see us. But it seemed the sudden firestorm was enough of a disruption; we reached the other side without any shots fired and ducked behind another house.

  The building we’d left had quickly become an inferno, tongues of fire snapping from the windows and roof, as dragon­fire burned hotter and fiercer than normal flame. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the neighborhood, either. Cries of alarm were beginning to echo through the streets as civilians spilled from their own homes onto the pavement, gaping at the fire. A crowd formed rapidly in front of t
he burning house, talking to each other or speaking frantically into their phones. Some were even taking pictures. The police would arrive soon with the fire department, and they’d likely shut down the whole block. We didn’t have much time.

  “This way,” I told Ember, and we crept swiftly up the street, weaving between fences and ducking behind cover when we could, moving toward the house on the corner. Ember stayed with me, never hesitating or slowing down, following my lead without fail. No more shots were fired on the house; there were far too many people out front now, watching the building burn. St. George wouldn’t risk firing into the crowd and hitting a civilian. But we didn’t want the soldiers following us, either. Or alerting the rest of their squad to where we’d gone. The threat had to be nullified before we could escape.

  Which meant I would have to fight St. George face-to-face.

  For a moment, crouched with Ember behind a parked car in a driveway, preparing for the next dash to cover, I felt a stab of guilt. What was I doing? These were my former brothers, men I’d fought beside just a few short weeks ago. What if the sniper was someone I knew? What if I got up there…and it was Tristan facing me on the other side? And if it was my former partner, staring at me down the sight of his gun, could he make himself pull the trigger? Could I?

  We approached the last house, slipping through a rotting privacy fence and across an overgrown yard, moving swiftly for the door. There was no time for regret. I had made my choice. Past friendships, memories, the camaraderie I’d always been a part of—none of that mattered. The Order would kill me and my companions if I didn’t do something now.

  We reached the back entrance, a simple wooden door that was probably locked from the inside. There was no time to pick the lock, no time for a quiet entrance. I drove my foot into the door, aiming for the weak spot right beside the handle, and it flew open with a crash.