by Jill Cooper
“Ginny,” Chase grabbed her hand before she made her getaway. “Don’t go too far. You run into trouble, you let me know.”
“I will. There won’t be any trouble tonight, right?” Ginny’s voice cracked.
“Right.” Chase’s eyes gazed into hers and Ginny saw worry.
She felt it in her heart too, but she didn’t want to talk about it—didn’t want to face it. So, she just hurried to the western side of the building.
She watched.
And waited.
*****
There was no sign of anything for hours. Ginny leaned against the wall on her arm with a yawn. Her lids drooped and her legs had nearly lost all feeling in them. The cold air of the open window chilled her. She probably should’ve paced more to keep the blood flowing, but all she could think about was curling up into bed; maybe even have a warm shower.
Ginny barely remembered what a warm shower felt like, or any shower for that matter.
“Psst, Ginny.”
A voice down the stairs called to her. Strange, Ginny thought, she wasn’t due to be relieved for another forty minutes. She made it to the stairs, peered down into the darkness, and her stomach rolled when she made out the narrow face staring back at her.
“Sally? What’s going on?”
“Need to show you something. Hurry.”
Ginny wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like she and Sally were friends—.
“It’s for Chase. We need to check this out.” There was a sense of urgency in her voice that moved Ginny.
Chase? Could he be in trouble?
She ignored her bad feelings for Sally and charged down the stairs—if Chase needed her . . . “Where?” she asked Sally, as her feet hit the wooden planks on the bottom level.
“This way.” Sally held the door open and led Ginny around the back of the building and into a small alley. Ginny didn’t see anything that would require checking into. She froze in her tracks; her gut was telling her to run.
“It’s just a little further, this way.” Sally beckoned her with a wave of her hand. ”C’mon, I don’t bite.”
“I left something back upstairs. I better go grab it.” Ginny pivoted on her heel, but was yanked backwards by Sally. Yelping, Ginny lost her footing and slammed into her.
Sally smirked. “And here I wanted to do it the easy way,” she said, and slammed the butt of her gun into Ginny’s forehead.
The pain reverberated through her skull and Ginny fell. Her back slammed into the asphalt. She moaned. Was all of this over a guy? Just because Chase chose her?
Ginny glanced up at the sky toward the moon. A set of wings set across it and off in the distance, she heard the cry of a glistening.
They were under attack. Ginny needed to warn someone. She leaned up on her elbows, even though it hurt to do so. She struggled to speak, to draw breath, to do anything.
Sally leaned down and snarled at her. “You’re not going anywhere, Ginny.” Her name was spoken with distaste, but that wasn’t what caused Ginny’s heart to pound.
It was the fangs sprouting inside of Sally’s mouth and the wings protruding from her back. All these months, how had they missed this?
Sally was a glistening, and not just any glistening, one of Victor’s glistenings.
Chapter Fifteen Chase
Ramiro relieved Chase and not a moment too soon. Chase was dead on his feet and he couldn’t wait to get some sleep. First, he’d help find Ginny and make sure she was all right. Sleeping next to someone was a luxury and when that person was Ginny, well—Chase wasn’t going to let that moment slip by.
He left his post at the school, his gun slung on his back. By the time he got to the front door, it burst open and caught him in mid-yawn. It was Marco and Paulette, with an equal look of panic on both of their faces.
“What’s the matter?” Chase’s chest tightened. Did he really want to know? Couldn’t one night just lead to a restful bit of sleep?
“I went to relieve Ginny.” Paulette was an older woman, with her hair spun up in a bun. Motherly and kind, she took Ginny under her wing since the group converged. “But she’s not there.”
“Ain’t there?” For a second, Chase thought the ground swayed. How could Ginny just not be there?
“We’ve looked everywhere,” Marco said. “Maybe she had to go the bathroom, but—.”
Chase held up his hand to slow everyone down. He needed a chance to think. “Ginny would never leave her post unguarded.” He stared at the ground and thought. “We gotta find her. Where’d you check?”
It had to be a mistake. Ginny wouldn’t just wander off and he had just seen her. Said a casual good-bye like she’d be right back, but what if she wasn’t? Panic started to spread inside him and that wasn’t good, not at all.
“Pretty much everywhere, even the bunker.”
“We woke Jeff,” Paulette said. “He is getting together a crew to search.”
“Where’s Jake?” Chase demanded. Jeff was fine, but he wanted the glistening commander and not his dad.
“He said he was hungry and going to find a bite to eat.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed at Marco and the way he shifted away. “You mean at the diner?”
Marco’s voice was slow. “No, Chase. That’s not what I mean.”
Jake was feeding? Chase didn’t even know what to think about that. He ran his hand through his hair. “And he’s gone? Hasn’t come back?” Chase huffed. “Anyone else missing I should know about?” Chase asked.
Paulette and Marco glanced at each other with a wary glint in their eyes.
“What?” Chase didn’t mean to bark orders at them and he was sorry for it. He was worried about Ginny. They had made it through hell and back a few times and now she just goes missing, when the night had been so quiet? It didn’t make sense, not a lick of it.
“Sally is missing too. She was supposed to be asleep but . . .” Paulette sighed.
“Her sleeping bag was still rolled up.” Marcus put his hand on Paulette’s shoulder. They appeared close, closer than Chase had ever seen before.
Sally and Ginny both missing couldn’t be a coincidence. Chase took the lead; he slammed through the door with Paulette and Marcus nipping at his heels. He had no reason to believe Sally would hurt Ginny. They didn’t get along, but that didn’t mean Sally would hurt Ginny, right?
So why was his heartbeat so erratic? Why was Chase suddenly so terrified?
****
With a groan, Ginny squinted her eyes, and then rolled her head back and forth and side to side. The pain built up just behind her eyes was intense. When she tried to open her eyes, she saw stars, so she tried to rub them away.
Slowly, a room came into view. It rotated to the side like she might be flying. Ginny grunted and grabbed at something for support. Cool to the touch, it was metal—the leg of a cot. A brown ceiling came into view. Behind her, there was a brick wall and a tiny window high above. Ginny stretched to the right and ignored the crick in her neck that threatened to snap her right in two.
Metal bars—Was this a prison cell?
Moving was hard, but Ginny scooted over on her knees. She rattled the bars and saw they were locked solid. Outside, she heard the noise of shuffling feet.
“Hello, Ginny.” Sally smirked, her hair up in a ponytail, and Ginny’s own gun slung over her shoulder. “Try all you want, but you’re never getting out of here.”
“Why?” Ginny demanded to know. Her eyes judged Sally harshly. They weren’t friends, but they had fought with the same people, side by side, for the same reasons.
“You took our children.” Sally’s eyes cast judgment on Ginny. “You stole them and now we’re going to take them back.”
“We were helping them survive what Victor was doing.” Ginny shook her head. “We saved them.”
“They will go soft under Jake. They will forget what they are, just like he has!” Sally leaned forward and grabbed the bars, foam generating at the corners of her mouth. Her fingers went translucent a
s she lost control of her human form.
She was close to rage, easy to anger. Ginny didn’t know if it was helpful, or a hindrance.
“He is teaching them what it is to be human; what you clearly never knew.” Ginny turned her head.
Sally snorted. “Please, just because he chose you, you think you’re better than me.”
“I didn’t say that.” Ginny pressed her jaws together tight. She never felt better than Sally, never felt more valuable than anyone, but at least she wasn’t a raging, lunatic dragon.
Sally’s face flushed. “I should’ve been the one in the Humvee with Chase. I’m the one who should’ve been with those kids, not you.”
It all clicked for Ginny; that was why they were attacked and pursued. Victor wanted his glistening children back; indoctrinate them like he had been doing to the others. Join his cause and leave their humanity behind, on the cutting room floor. “And what about the human children we had with us?”
“Bite sized appetizers.” Sally licked her lips. “You’ll make a great meal, but first . . . let’s see how long it takes Chase to find you.”
Bait. Ginny was bait. Take Chase and the others away from their post and it would lower the town’s defenses. Then the glistenings would swoop in and the children—oh God, the poor, defenseless children.
“They’re just kids,” Ginny whispered, trying to appeal to Sally’s humanity. “They can’t change form or know what’s at stake. You’ll only scare them.”
“They’ll get over it.” Sally rolled her shoulders back and did an about face. “It’s time to take back what’s ours. I’ll be back for you, Ginny.”
When the sound of her shoes clicked so far away they drew silent, Ginny rattled the bars of her cell. She had to find a way out to warn everyone. She glanced around the room and saw only the smallest of windows, she had noted earlier, above her. Ginny was petite, but she didn’t know if she was that petite.
It might be her only chance. Ginny might be the only hope in warning the town, so she pushed the cot over to the window.
She tore the white sheet free and wrapped her hand in it. Turning her head, she punched through the glass; shards broke free and flew by, revealing the nighttime darkness.
Here went nothing.
****
No one had heard or seen anything.
Chase didn’t want to panic or worry, but the more he searched, the more he worried they needed to expand the radius to the outlying wilderness. Maybe they should be searching for a place where a body—he chastised himself for even thinking of it, clenching his hand into a tight fist, as he took a final sweep outside, past the Sheriff’s office.
That’s when he saw Ginny’s head, calling from an open window. “Help!”
“Ginny!” Chase screamed, even though he knew he should keep quiet. His knees kicked up and he ran to her, even though he was fatigued and had been up for over thirty-six hours, at this point.
He fell on his knees at the window. Ginny’s eyes were terrified, but they lit up when they saw him. She had a bad gash on her forehead and a trail of dry blood mixing with her hairline. It didn’t look good and Chase felt the anger building in his stomach.
“Let’s get you out of there,” Chase said softly.
Ginny shook her head. “I’ve tried, I don’t fit. You have to warn—Sally’s a glistening. She’s working for Victor.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed. “That’s impossible. She’s been with us since New York.”
“She wants the glistening children. That’s why she’s here. She was supposed to deliver them the other night, and when she failed . . . Listen, you have to warn Jeff and the others. They need to move the kids. Now.”
Chase saw the urgency in her eyes, heard the panic in her voice, and it moved him. “I’ll come inside and free you—.”
Ginny grabbed his hand through the small opening in the window. “There’s no time. You have to warn Jeff. Now. Sally’s already on the move. You need to load the kids up and go.”
Chase thought of leaving her there, a sitting duck for the glistenings—a meal just waiting to be eaten and he hated it. It soured his stomach and left a nasty taste in his mouth.
But what choice did he have? What choice did any of them have?
He squeezed her hand, hard. “I’m coming back for you. I’ll warn Jeff, get the kids loaded up, but—just hold on.” Chase wasn’t leaving her behind. He wouldn’t do that.
“Hurry,” Ginny whispered and knelt back down on the cot. Chase glanced at her one more time, before he took off running for the shelter.
He hoped he’d make it in time; hoped he’d get to see Ginny again.
Then he remembered his own advice and clenched his jaw, drawing a shaky breath. He would see Ginny again. He would.
****
Last of the children were loaded up into the van, when Victor’s glistenings started their attack run. Already, Jeff and his small crew of glistenings turned and met them mid-air, doing the best they could to give the kids a chance of survival.
Chase slammed his hand on the back of the truck to signal it was clear to go. Paulette stuck her head out of the window. “Chase, what about you?”
“Don’t argue,” he barked. “Go! These kids are the only chance of a future we have, so get the hell out of here!”
Marco didn’t wait for Paulette to argue. He hit the accelerator hard and peeled out of the street, gravel kicking up from the tires. A glistening in the air streaked toward the truck, Chase provided cover fire for the van, along with the few human’s that had stayed behind. The claws curled as it twisted in the air and tracked toward Chase.
Heart in his throat, Chase threw himself behind a fence as Jeff, in glistening form, intercepted the approaching one and they rolled across the night sky. It was as close to the coast being clear as Chase was going to get. He made his way to the Sherriff’s station, using vehicles, fences, and posts for cover.
As he approached, he heard screaming; it was Ginny. He followed the scream until he had a clear view of Ginny being dragged from the Sherriff’s station. Her hands pinned behind her back, she dug her sneakers into the pavement to stop the men from dragging her off—but off to where?
That’s when Chase saw the waiting truck; it’s engine idling. They weren’t going to leave Ginny behind; they were going to take her somewhere.
Over Chase’s dead body.
“Load the truck. They’ve escaped, we need to catch up.” The angry glistening threw Ginny inside the back of the truck. Break lights turned off as the van started to roll forward.
Chase needed to catch up somehow and free her without being caught. Sneaking past a house, he hid behind a post. A glistening overhead breathed fire and dove low. The grass caught on fire and Chase was pushed back to avoid the flames.
Dammit, he thought, panic, and impatience overtaking him. He didn’t have time for this. They were getting away with Ginny and wherever they were taking her, wasn’t good.
Chase held his breath, covered his mouth, and took a running leap over the fire, straight into a cloud of smoke. In the clearing, a pair of eyes narrowed at him. And then another pair.
And another.
He charged, pumping his arms to break through their barricade, but was caught. He fought against their strong arms. With horror, he watched a dragon land only feet from him. Her neck, tall and blue, had a purple streak running down the sides, just like her hair.
It was Sally, and Chase had run right in her trap.
Her snout seemed to smile. Sally had him right where she wanted him. “Fetch the van. Tell them we have one more prisoner.”
The voice came from Sally, but her lips never moved. How was that possible? Only Jake could talk when in dragon form, at least that’s what Chase thought.
He was positive, that’s what Jake thought, too.
Chapter Sixteen Jenna
New Haven 57
Jameson Residence
“Jenna, honey?” Jameson’s voice bellowed from downstairs.
<
br /> “I’ll . . .” Jenna’s voice was small. Lost and confused. She cleared her throat so she could answer him louder. “I’ll be right there!”
But she didn’t know if she could do it. She didn’t know if she could go downstairs after the night she had, of lying—pretending. Now, Jenna, dressed for a new day in a bright, blue dress, couldn’t stop looking at her belly. So wide and low, Jenna put her hands on it and her chin trembled as she felt her daughter kick.
Was she just a few days away from giving birth? Or would it happen even sooner than that? The idea of giving birth in New Haven, while under their direct control horrified her. Jenna needed to get out of there, but if Jameson figured out her game, he’d never let her go.
Jenna lowered herself slowly down at her vanity and then applied her eye makeup and ruby lipstick. Her red curls were longer than Jenna remembered. Sweetly, she crossed her hands under her belly and practiced. “I’m fine, sweetie. Can I get you something? Everything is peachy keen! Peachy keen, as always.”
Jenna forced a calculated smile. She had to soften it up, but how could she, when all she felt was rage?
The door opened a crack. “Honey?”
Her heart skipped a beat and Jenna picked up her hairbrush. “Sorry.” She avoided eye contact. “I’m just having trouble with my hair this morning.” She kept her eyes on the mirror as Jameson moved into the room, but she couldn’t help a quick glance out of her peripheral.
Smug, little twerp smiled and was dressed as the perfect 1950's husband, in a polo shirt and loose khakis. He stood behind Jenna and massaged her shoulders. “You always have trouble. I’ll do it for you, if you would like?”
Jenna closed her eyes and took a deep breath to keep her anger from seeping out. “Yes, I’d love that, darling.”
She tensed as he ran the hairbrush through her hair. Then, like he had done it dozens of times before, maybe even a hundred, Jameson pinned her hair up in an elegant French twist. “There,” he whispered, leaning over her shoulder to gaze at her through the mirror, “perfection, as usual.”
