Smoked - Mari Mancusi Page 0,14

know. But God, she loves that dragon so much. And to get this close only to have Emmy take off on her…” He shook his head slowly. “Flecking hell,” he muttered. “I don’t know what that stupid creature was thinking!”

“I told you,” she said slowly. “Emmy’s changed. The things they did to her…” She trailed off, shuddering. She could feel Connor’s blue eyes boring into her, and she turned away. “Hell, if I were her, I’d never trust another human being again. Any human being.”

Connor opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue that point, but at that moment, the doors of the terminal burst open, and a rowdy group of teens poured out, rushing them as they all tried to speak at once. The Potentials, Scarlet recognized with a little uneasiness, led by Rashida—the same group of kids with the weird psychic powers who had once tricked her into helping them, only to turn her and Caleb over to the enemy. What were they doing here? Were they now fighting for the home team? She remembered how, just before being taken away, she’d done a little psychic push of her own, sending Rashida a vision of the Dracken’s true mission. Had that worked to change their minds—and loyalties? Helped them realize who the bad guys really were?

Connor put his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. The group fell silent. “I’m sorry. There’s been a slight…complication,” he told them. “But I assure you, we’re not giving up.” He began to give a rundown of the day’s events.

Scarlet took the opportunity to slip away from the crowd, unnoticed. After all, she’d already lived the story firsthand, and now she had other priorities. Heading over to the terminal, she pushed open the front doors and stepped inside.

The place was sparse and had certainly seen better days, but it was clean and well kept, and she could tell some effort had been made to bring it to a livable level. There were several tables and chairs spread out across the main room, covered with puzzles and board games and computer tablets, and a foosball table was set up at one end. To her right was the restaurant Connor had mentioned, and Scarlet breathed in deeply, rejoicing in the smell of pizza being baked in a brick oven. It’d been a long, long time since she’d had a slice of pepperoni, and her mouth was watering.

“Well, hello there.”

She looked up to see a middle-aged man step out from the restaurant. He was tall and thin, with wild salt-and-pepper hair and dark eyes that crinkled at the corners. He came around the counter, walking with a pronounced limp.

“Hi,” Scarlet replied, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“You must be Scarlet,” the man said. “I’m Cameron, Trinity’s father.” He gave her a kind smile. “Are you hungry? Can I make you something?”

The offer was more than tempting. The pizza smelled ridiculously good. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax and enjoy it. Not yet.

“Do you know where Caleb is?” she asked instead, her heart thumping in her chest.

Trinity’s father gave her a curious look. Then he shrugged. “He’s down the corridor,” he told her. “Third door from the left.”

Scarlet nodded wordlessly, then forced her feet to move, one after another, in the direction he pointed. As she walked down the hall, her heart started beating faster and faster in her chest. By the time she reached the third door, she could barely breathe.

She paused for a moment, sucked in a breath, then pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was sterile. Cold, almost, with no furnishings save for a hospital-style bed in the center and a metal folding chair set up beside it. The walls were white and blank, and the windows were boarded up. It was bleak. Depressing. But what did it matter? she asked herself. Caleb’s body might be here, but his mind is elsewhere. He could be in the most luxurious palace right now, and he wouldn’t even know.

She turned to the figure on the bed, and her breath caught in her throat. He looked so still, his eyes closed, his skin pale. Like a sleeping angel. Her heart squeezed.

“Oh, Bad Seed,” she whispered, using her old nickname for him. She stepped forward until she reached the bed, dropping to the chair by his side. Reaching out, she took his hand in hers, horrified at how clammy and cold it felt, how translucent the skin. She stroked his fingers,