“Who do you think you’re dealing with?” Dante’s voice was equally as hard, and he glared back at Riley with cold green eyes. “Some low-level computer monkey? I own this place. Everyone here answers to me.”
Stunned, I stared at him. I’d always known Dante was ambitious. He had rarely talked about his plans for when he finally got into Talon, but I knew he had them. But an executive? A corporate partner? How had he risen so far in such a short time? He was sixteen, same as me. Either his Chameleon talents were nothing short of miraculous, or there was something else going on.
Either way, I didn’t like it. And neither did either of the boys. Garret’s posture was tense, his eyes shifting between Dante and the glowing numbers above the door, climbing steadily upward. Riley, still pinning Dante against the wall, gave a grim smile.
“Just remember, Mr. Hill,” he warned, pressing the gun to his chest. “I expect you to get us in with no problems. Any alarms ‘mysteriously’ go off, or if we run into any trouble, I’m putting a hole through you first.”
I clenched my jaw at Riley’s threat but didn’t say anything. Dante wasn’t our friend, I reminded myself. He was a Chameleon. I couldn’t think of him as my brother right now, though it still made me slightly ill, seeing him like this. I wished it could be different, but Dante didn’t seem inclined to leave Talon, no matter what I said to convince him otherwise.
The elevator stopped, and as the doors slid open, we all tensed, half expecting a line of guards on the other side, taking aim with their guns. The dark, empty corridor that greeted us didn’t make me any less nervous. Dante stepped forward, but Riley reached out and grabbed his shoulder, pressing the gun into his ribs.
“Slowly,” he growled. “Don’t get too far, Chameleon. Like you said, you’re just giving us a tour.”
“Yes,” Dante said in a tight voice. “And they’re certainly not going to expect anything if I go creeping through the halls with you, hostage-style.”
Riley chuckled darkly and released him. “Just remember, I can shoot faster than you can run. Let’s go.”
We entered the floor. Past the elevators was an open floor of cubicles and desks, all empty and dark except for the flicker of computer screens. Dante led us across the room, our shoes clicking against the tile, and down another corridor with individual offices lining the hall. These, too, sat vacant and still, large glass windows showing off the night sky and the blinking cityscape below.
“I don’t like this,” I whispered to Garret. “It’s too empty. I thought Talon would have more security, or alarms, or something. This is too easy.”
“Agreed,” was the low reply. “Stay on your guard.”
“My office is through here,” Dante explained as we reached a door in the middle of the hall. “The reports are logged into my computer. One moment while I unlock the door.” He slid his card into a key slot, then pushed the door back to reveal an empty, darkened room.
Riley gestured at him with his gun. “After you.”
As we stepped through the door together, Dante turned, as if to throw the light switch. Suddenly his arm shot out, something small cupped in his palm, striking Riley in the ribs. There was an electric flash of white, the buzz of static, and Riley snarled, jerking as if he’d been stung.
The lights came on, revealing half a dozen armed, armored humans in the room, pointing their guns right at us.
RILEY
Well, shit. We’d walked nose-first into a trap.
Still reeling from being tased, I didn’t move fast enough, and Dante slipped out of reach. He was smiling as he backed toward the desk and the trio of guards standing there with their guns aimed at my middle. St. George already had his weapon out, pointed back at them, but it was too late.
Dammit! This was bad. I’d known the devious little bastard had been up to something, but it was worse than I’d thought. This was more than bad luck or bad timing, and it wasn’t coincidence that everything—Miranda, the evidence, and Dante—had pointed us here. I knew a setup when I saw one. We’d been played.
“Did you really think we had no idea you were coming?” Dante asked, a pleased smile curling his lips as he confirmed my suspicions. He met my glare and shook his head. “Did you really believe your presence went unnoticed at the crash site? Why do you think Miranda was on television to begin with? Because we knew you would recognize her, and if you did, you would come snooping around. We had her giving ‘press interviews’ on every news station for three days straight, to make sure you saw her.” He circled the desk and stood behind it, two guards flanking him like attack dogs. “The evidence would lead you here, as we knew it would, and everything else just fell into place.” That arrogant smile turned sharp as he gazed at me, eyes glittering with hatred. “I will admit, I’m going to enjoy watching you die, Cobalt. For everything you’ve done, all the grief you’ve caused me, and Talon, I hope it’s painful. A quick death is more than you deserve.”
I smiled coldly back. “You think you can take me down, hatchling? Do your worst.”
“Dante.” Ember stepped forward, prompting half the guards to level their guns at her. The heat inside flared as Cobalt surged up, making my skin feel tight. Ember ignored the guards and their weapons, keeping her gaze on Dante. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Please. You can still walk away. Look at what Talon is doing. They destroyed an entire town, killed every human there. That can’t be what you wanted. My brother was never a killer.”
“You don’t know me anymore, Ember.” Dante’s voice was weary. “You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’m willing to sacrifice, for our race. I know what Talon is planning. It’s far too late for me to go back.” He raised his chin, his voice becoming defiant. “I gave the order to wipe out that town. No witnesses, no survivors. And I would do it again, if that’s what Talon wanted.”
Dammit. I spared a glance at the soldier as they were talking. He was tense, pistol drawn and ready, his body coiled to spring into action. He caught my gaze and gave a tiny nod. I returned my attention to the twins as the air in my lungs started to boil.
“You gave the order,” Ember repeated softly. “But...why? How could you do that?”