Talon. Julie KagawaЧитать онлайн книгу.
He leaned back, still appraising, and gave me a lazy smile. “I don’t know, Firebrand. That seems like an awful lot of faith to put in a complete stranger. How do I know you won’t turn me in? Run back to the organization and tell them you saw a rogue hanging around the Smoothie Hut?” He snatched another cheese stick and waggled it in my face. “That wouldn’t go well for me.”
“I won’t turn you in,” I promised. “I didn’t before, when I first saw you last month.” He ignored me, biting into the cheese stick with a grin, and I frowned. “You were looking for me, weren’t you?” I guessed, remembering the way he’d stared at me, golden eyes piercing even from across the parking lot. “Why?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“And you’re not answering any of them.” I swatted his hand away from the last of the cheese sticks. “Stop playing games. If you were scared I was going to turn you in, you wouldn’t have sat down in the first place. So what do you want?”
He laughed, his deep, low voice sending tendrils of heat curling through me. “All right, you have me there. I’ll stop beating around the bush, then.” Shaking his head, he gave me an appraising look. “Let me ask you a question. How much do you really know about Talon?”
I cast a furtive look at the other tables, making sure no one could hear us. Or that Lexi was not returning from the bathroom. “What kind of question is that?” I said, lowering my voice. “I know as much as the next, um, person. The organization exists to ensure our safety and survival. Every member has a place, and everything they do is to help our race grow stronger.”
The rogue sneered. “Textbook answer, Firebrand. Bravo, you know exactly what they want you to say.”
I bristled. “Says the traitor who ran away from Talon and is living on the run like a criminal. For all I know, everything out of your mouth is a lie.”
“Don’t kid yourself.” The rogue’s voice was suddenly grave, his expression darkening. “I know things about...them...that you don’t. I’ve seen the inside of the organization. I know how they work. And I’m here to warn you, little Firebrand. Be careful. What they show you is barely scratching the surface.”
I thought of my sadistic trainer, her intense gaze following me around the office building, and shivered. “What do you mean?”
“You want answers?” He rose with a shifting of leather and bike chains, gazing down at me. “Meet me at Lover’s Bluff tomorrow at midnight.” His near-golden eyes danced, and he smiled evilly. “That’s past curfew, so you’ll have to play rogue yourself if you want the truth.”
I crossed my arms. “So, you want me to meet a complete stranger out on a lonely cliff in the middle of the night? Seems like you expect an awful lot of faith from me.”
The rogue smiled. “Touché.” Putting one hand on the table, he leaned in and lowered his voice so that only I could hear him. “My name is Riley,” he said, and his nearness made my insides churn. He smelled of dust and chains and leather, and, beneath that, the faintest hint of wind and sky. Impossible to sense unless you’d actually been there. “That’s my human name, anyway,” the rogue continued. “If you want my real name, I’ll tell you tomorrow...if you decide to show. If you’re too scared, just don’t show up, and I’ll know where we stand. You’ll never see me again.”
“And if I do decide to show?”
He chuckled. “Firebrand,” he murmured, his voice going even softer, “think about it. Two dragons, on an isolated cliff overlooking the ocean, with no humans around for miles and no Talon to stop us. What do you think we’re going to do?”
If my dragon was excited before, she could barely be contained now. My back itched beneath my shirt, wings straining to break free, to unfurl and flap away into the sky right then. The rogue—Riley—grinned, as if he could sense my reaction, and straightened, gazing down at me.
“Tomorrow night,” he whispered, and then he sauntered away without looking back. Deep inside, something in me mourned to see him go.
“Oh. My. God!” Lexi squeaked, dropping onto the bench across from me, her eyes big and round. “Was that Gorgeous Biker Boy that just left? Did he actually talk to you? What did he say? What did he want?”
I shrugged. “Nothing, Lex,” I said, feeling bad for lying, but of course, I couldn’t tell her the truth. What had happened between Riley and me was dragon business; humans had no part in it. She gave me an incredulous look, and I sighed. “Fine, but don’t yell at me for bursting your bubble. He asked if I wanted to take a ride on his power machine.” I paused. “Not the motorcycle.”
“Oh.” Lexi thought about that for a second, then wrinkled her nose. “Ew! So he was just a disgusting perv, after all, huh? That’s too bad, he was really, really hot.”
“Yeah,” I agreed softly, standing up, thinking of the rogue dragon’s last words. His challenge to meet him after curfew, to fly with him, when he knew how dangerous that was, for both of us.
I shouldn’t. I should inform Talon that the rogue was still hanging around. That was what I was supposed to do. Rogue dragons were dangerous; everyone in the organization knew it. They were unstable, unpredictable and put the survival of our race in jeopardy. The rogue could be lying about Talon, just to get me out in the open. My rational, logical side warned me not to even think about sneaking out, breaking curfew and meeting a total stranger on an empty cliff after midnight.
Unfortunately, my dragon had other plans.
Garret
“You still haven’t told me the plan,” I told Tristan as we walked through a pair of sliding glass doors. After we’d left the girls at the beach, he’d driven to the nearest gas station and headed to the hugely advertised “beer cave” at the back. I followed him into the chilly interior, letting the doors shut behind us. “The girl’s party is only a few days from now. What’s the objective for this weekend?”
“Garret.” Tristan looked back at me. “Relax. It’s a party. There is no set objective. You’re just there to hang out, fit in, get them to trust you. Surely you can do that.”
“I have never been to a party,” I said in a flat voice, which was true. The Order saw such things as frivolous, and anything that took time away from training was not only considered wasteful, it was dangerous. “I’m not sure what constitutes ‘hanging out.’”
“I’m sure it’ll come to you.” He headed to the back corner, stacked floor to ceiling with boxes of alcohol. I continued to glare at him, and he sighed. “Look, just think of it as an exercise. Observe and blend in. Try to think like the enemy. You’ve done that before, right?”
“Yes.”
“It’s the same thing. Adapt. Engage in conversation. Smile sometimes.” He grabbed the nearest twelve-pack and tossed it at me. I caught it, and my partner shook his head with a grin. “Poor Garret. He can face down fire-breathing dragons and leap from a helicopter at two hundred feet, but stick him with a bunch of adolescents and he falls apart.”
I ignored the jab, holding up the twelve-pack of beer. “What’s this for?”
“Forget torture and interrogation. You want someone to spill their guts, share a secret or reveal they’re actually a twenty-foot winged lizard that can breathe fire?” Tristan smiled wickedly and picked up another case. “This is the quickest way. Besides, most parties nowadays are BYOB.”
“What?”
“Bring your own booze.” Tristan rolled his eyes. “Seriously, partner. We do have a television in the bunkhouse. Sometimes, too much training is a bad thing.”
“I don’t drink.” Not that the Order didn’t allow it; in a profession as dangerous as ours, they recognized the soldiers’ need to unwind, as long as it didn’t devolve into drunken stupidity. But alcohol muted the senses and made