Rogue. Julie Kagawa

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Rogue - Julie Kagawa

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my silence, Riley gave me a weary, sympathetic look, his voice going softer.

      “Sorry, Firebrand. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat like that. I know you’ve never killed anyone, and I don’t expect you to. Not tonight, anyway.” He sighed and raked his hair back. “I’ve just…seen a lot, you understand? From Talon and St. George. I’ve lost friends and hatchlings to both organizations, and some days it feels like I’m pushing a boulder up a never-ending cliff, and if I let up for one second, it’ll roll back and crush me.” His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened as he looked away. “One day it will roll back and crush me.”

      His gaze flicked back to mine. “What I’m trying to say is, if you’re going to stand against Talon, you have to do whatever it takes to stay alive. And one day, that might involve shooting someone. Or incinerating them. Or tearing them apart. Yeah, it’s ugly, it’s messy and it’s not fair, but that’s the truth of it. This is our world, Firebrand. This is the world you live in now.” He held the gun out to me once more. “Unless you want to go back.”

      I swallowed. “No,” I said, and reached out for the weapon, curling my fingers around the hard metal. “I’m not going back.” Riley tossed me a holster as well, and I slipped it around my shoulder, feeling the weight of the gun, cold and deadly, against my ribs. I hoped I would never have to use it.

      “All right.” Riley shut the van and looked toward the distant base. I saw him take a short, furtive breath, as if steeling himself for what was to come. “I think we’re about ready. Just remember…” He shot a firm glare in my direction. “We do this my way. If I tell you to do something, don’t question it. Don’t even think about it. Just do it, understand?”

      I nodded. Riley glanced at Wes, who watched him with the grave, resigned expression of someone who thought they might never see him again. “We’re going. If I give the word, get out and don’t look back. Wish us luck.”

      “Luck?” Wes muttered, shaking his head. “You don’t need luck. You need a bloody miracle.”

      And on that inspiring note, we started across the desert.

       Riley

       One mile to the gates of hell.

      I shoved the thought away as I led Ember across the dusty plains, heading closer to that ominous glow looming ahead of us. Fear and second thoughts were dangerous now. This insane rescue was officially under way, and I had to focus on what was important; namely, getting us in and out without being discovered and gunned down. When I was a Basilisk, I’d been taught never to ask questions or think too hard about what I was doing. I didn’t need to know the whys, I just needed to complete the missions.

      Of course, it was when I’d started asking questions that I’d realized I couldn’t be part of Talon anymore.

      Ember walked behind me, silent in her black Viper’s outfit, gliding over the sand like a shadow. She made no noise, moving like a Basilisk herself, graceful and sure without even realizing it. Lilith had taught her well. The only thing she hadn’t taught her was the Vipers’ ruthlessness, that apathy toward killing that Vipers were known—and feared—for. I was glad of it, but at the same time, I knew it wouldn’t last. Not in our world. There was too much at stake. Too many factions that wanted us dead, too many people to try to protect. Eventually, the day would come when Ember would have to kill someone and when it did, she would have to make a choice as to what kind of dragon, and person, she really was. I just hoped it wouldn’t change her too drastically.

      “You’re about two hundred yards from the fence.” Wes’s voice buzzed in my ear, courtesy of the wire I was wearing. Part of the package I’d picked up in L.A. “No security cameras as far as I can tell, but be careful.”

      “Got it.”

      We reached the perimeter fence, nothing heavy duty or unusual, just simple chain link topped with barbed wire. Signs reading Private Property and Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted hung from the links every thirty or so feet, but there was nothing to indicate that a heavily armed military compound lay beyond. St. George was nearly as good as Talon when it came to hiding in plain sight, as private armies were sort of frowned on by the United States government. The bases where the soldiers were housed used isolation and misdirection to stay off the radar of those that might take issue with a large number of armed fanatics squatting on US soil.

      Good news for us: this base was counting on its remoteness to deter unwanted visitors, so the fence wasn’t well patrolled. Bad news for us: if they did start shooting, no one would ever hear it.

      Ember crouched beside me, peering through the barrier. We’d approached the base from the north, giving the fence a wide berth as we circled around, and I could see a cluster of squat buildings about a thousand yards beyond the fence. The space between was dark and shadowy, but terrifyingly flat and open.

       No turning back now.

      Pulling out my wire cutters, I began snipping through the links, silent and methodical. Oddly enough, the familiar task helped calm my nerves; how many times had I done this before? Ember pressed close, her shoulder brushing mine, and my pulse leaped at the contact, but I didn’t stop until I’d cut a line just big enough for us to slip through.

      “Stay close,” I murmured, replacing the cutters. “Remember, don’t do anything until I give the word.”

      She nodded. Reaching down, I peeled back the steel curtain, motioned her through, then slipped in behind her. As we passed through, the fence gave a soft, metallic slither, echoing the chill running up my spine.

      Okay, here we were, on St. George soil. Still in a crouch, I scanned the layout of the base, noting buildings, lights, how far the shadows extended. Ember waited beside me, patient and motionless, green eyes shining with resolve. I sensed no fear from her, only stubborn determination, a will to see this through no matter what, and squashed the flicker of both dread and pride.

      “We’re in,” I whispered to Wes.

      “All right.” I imagined furious typing on the other end. “Hang on, I’m trying to find the security system…there we go.” More silence followed, as Ember and I huddled at the fence line, gazing around warily. “Okay,” Wes muttered at last. “Looks like only headquarters and the armory actually have cameras. So you’re going to have to get inside before I can walk you through.”

      “Got it,” I muttered back. “I’ll let you know when we’re in. Riley out.”

      Staying low, we scurried across the open ground toward the buildings, keeping to where the shadows were thickest. It being the very dead of night, the compound was quiet; most soldiers were asleep, probably having to be up in a couple hours. I did spot a couple guards near the perimeter gate, but other than that the yard was deserted.

      “It’s so quiet,” Ember whispered as we crouched behind a Hummer, maybe a hundred yards from the first set of buildings. “Just like you said. That’s a good thing, right?”

      “Yeah, but let’s not get cocky.” I nodded at the roof of the largest structure, straight ahead behind a clump of smaller buildings. “If this isn’t exciting enough for you, wait till we get inside. All it takes is for one alarm to go off, and the entire base will swarm out like we poked a stick down an ant nest. So stay on your toes, Firebrand. We’re not out of here yet.”

      Her

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