Page 38 of Dragon’s Rebel

Chapter 17

Rebel went down the twisting iron staircase and in through the disused ballroom, taking the elevator down to the Batcave. The whole house was so dim and silent it seemed almost eerie.

Rebel usually liked being alone, especially in other people’s houses. It was one reason she enjoyed being a thief so much. Being somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be, with no one knowing she was there—it was a strange kind of freedom. Almost like she didn’t exist in the real world, and she could do whatever she wanted.

But somehow, here, it just felt lonely.

The control room seemed even bigger in the darkness, its shadows menacing. She found herself glancing warily around, wishing she’d brought her weapons with her.

No one stepped out of the shadows to confront her. The slim metal box was still on the table, with one vial of serum and one of the DRA-4269 toxin.

Rebel took out the remaining vial of toxin and set it carefully aside. She didn’t want to take any chances on accidentally poisoning Thorne. Then she shut the box on the vial of serum.

The snap of the locks seemed loud in the room.

Was this really the right thing to do? The loss of Thorne’s dragon would be a terrible thing. Her chest ached at the very thought.

But it was his choice. She knew how much this mission meant to him, and what could be at stake.

She walked over to the main bank of monitors, looking at the feed that showed the interior of Vyrkos’ tomb, almost a hundred miles away, deep below Mount Hood.

The Draken Lord lay sleeping underneath a magical shield that looked like a frozen lake.

The six of them, led by Thorne, were the only thing standing between him and the total destruction of the Pacific Northwest.

Rebel shuddered. She wasn’t afraid of much, but she was afraid of that. They all were.

She clenched the box hard in her hand, and then slipped it into her jacket pocket.

If Thorne wanted her help, she’d give it to him. She’d take him far away from the pull of his hoard, and give him the serum. And if the worst happened, she’d try to help him keep it together long enough to find the Seals, and shut Vyrkos down for good.

She turned to leave the room, and her bracelet slid down on her wrist. She stopped, looking at it.

The gold in it had probably come from Thorne’s hoard. Should she leave it behind? What if it connected him to the hoard, and called to his dragon?

But when she moved her hand to take it off, she couldn’t seem to make herself do it. The bracelet felt warm and comforting.

Like there was a part of his dragon’s spirit contained in it.

She didn’t know if the whispered words were Thorne, or his dragon, or just her own heart wanting a little piece of him.

But she pulled the sleeve of her jacket down over the bracelet, and went to the elevator to go back to the roof. She found Thorne where she’d left him—chin on the parapet, staring out at the city.

He turned and looked at her. Did you get it?

“Right here.” She patted the pocket of her jacket. “And I had an idea.”

What?

“I’m thinking we should do this at my house.”

In St. Johns? Why?

“If you’re worried that your hoard will call to your dragon and keep him here, we should probably do it somewhere farther away than this rooftop. The house in St. Johns might be far enough. And the advantage it has over any other place that isn’t here, is that my car is there. So if you can’t fly, at least we can drive back.”

You don’t have much faith in my dragon.