Smoked - Mari Mancusi Page 0,95
something sickly sweet enveloped her senses. She frowned, opening her eyes and turning to Scarlet, wanting to ask if she smelled it too. But the words stuck in her throat, and she found she could only look at Scarlet, who was also now struggling to breathe. Trinity reached out, trying to grab on to her. But her vision swam.
And blackness consumed her.
• • •
Connor slammed the door shut, his breath coming in short gasps. “Dragons,” he whispered. “Holy hell, where did those dragons come from?”
Mara shook her head, her expression grave. “Darius must have discovered what I’d done at the lab and decided to hedge his bets. And I’m guessing these aren’t purebloods either.”
Connor paced the corridor, raking a hand through his hair, his steps eating up the distance between the walls as his mind flashed back to what he’d seen in the next room. Dragons. Twenty or more. All at least the size of Emmy—possibly larger. He’d heard hybrids could grow to twice the size of pureblood dragons, which meant they might not have even been full grown.
“They were mutated,” he remarked. “At least the ones I could see. Extra legs, eyes where there shouldn’t be eyes…” He looked up. “Just like the dragons you brought back from the future that were destroyed in the fire.”
“Maybe he managed to rescue a few of them,” Mara concluded. “Or at least some of their DNA? But how would he breed them? Sure, he could clone them, but he’d still need a host. Like I needed Emmy. We’d tried to use ceramic eggs under an incubator and even implant embryos into other egg-laying species like ostriches. But it never worked.”
“What if he didn’t make them at all?” Connor interjected. “I mean, what if he brought back more dragons from the future than we ever knew about? What if they’ve been down here this whole time, deep under the mall, growing and waiting for the moment when Darius planned to unleash them on the world?”
“Flecking hell,” Caleb swore under his breath. “If they get free now—if they’re able to breed with Emmy’s true children…” He trailed off; he didn’t need to finish anyway. Connor knew all too well what could happen—what would happen if they didn’t figure out a way to stop this and fast.
“Come on,” he said. “We need to get Emmy. We’ll have her set fire to this place. Raze it to the ground and the hybrids with it. That’s the only way we can—”
He broke off as a voice slammed into his consciousness. Trinity’s voice.
We’ve got trouble, Connor. We’re going to have to—
It stopped midsentence, as if cut by a knife.
Trinity! he tried to send back. But there was no answer. He turned to his brother and Mara, who were looking at him questioningly. “Something’s wrong,” he told them. “We have to get back to the surface. Now!”
He bolted down the hall, not waiting for an answer, assuming they’d follow. Sure enough, he could hear them step in behind him as they ran through the apartment, up the stairs, down the corridor. But then, just as they were closing in on the entrance, Connor’s ears caught footsteps echoing on the smooth floors, headed their way.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered.
And then he heard the voice. He glanced over at his brother.
“Darius,” Caleb whispered. “It’s him.”
• • •
Trinity? Scarlet?
Emmy twisted her long neck to look up onto her back, where the girls had suddenly gone silent. Worry churned in her stomach.
Should I go? she asked. Should I fly?
No answer. She snuffed her nose at them only to have them slip off her back and onto the garage floor with a sickening thud. She stifled a whine of alarm. What was wrong with them? Why were they so still? And what was that smell? She paused, sniffing.
She turned to the building’s exit, not sure what to do. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Trinity had been scared. She’d wanted them to leave. Fly like the wind, she’d said. The dragon glanced down at the unconscious girls; she could grab them and place them back on her back, but they’d likely just fall off again. Maybe she could take them in her arms instead, cradling them against her chest as she flew. She tried this for a moment, but they were so soft, it was hard to get a good grip on them, and she didn’t want them to slip out while in the air.
She moaned again, not sure what to do. The smell was