Scorched

while.” He stabbed a piece of tofu with his fork and stuffed it into his mouth with a miserable look. The girls giggled.

“So how long have you guys been living in this place?” Trin asked curiously. They all seemed so at home here, so comfortable with one another. And their English was impeccable. She could barely detect any accents.

“Malia was one of the first to come here. You’ve been here almost two years, right?” Aiko asked the girl across from Trin, who nodded in agreement. “I’ve been here just over a year myself.”

“I’ve been here a year and a half,” Rashida offered. “Trevor’s the baby of the group. He only arrived six months ago.”

“And yet I’m already beating you in your lessons,” Trevor shot back. Rashida patted him on the back patronizingly.

“Sure you are,” she said.

“Wow,” Trin marveled, looking them over. “That’s a long time to be gone. Do you get, like, spring break or summer vacation to go visit your families?”

The four Potentials exchanged looks. “We don’t have families,” Malia replied quietly.

“What?” Trinity asked, completely thrown by the answer.

“We’re all orphans,” Aiko explained.

“All of you?” Trinity glanced around the bustling food court. There had to be a hundred Potentials eating lunch here alone. Did none of them have parents? Family? People back home?

“My parents died in the tsunami,” Aiko said matter-of-factly. “My entire village was wiped out. I had no family left, no place to go.”

“I was living on the streets of a Mumbai slum,” Rashida added. “I’d spend my entire day just trying to find a place to sleep where I wouldn’t be attacked or robbed.”

“My mother died of AIDS when I was young,” Malia said quietly. “My aunt took me in until the drought hit. Then she had to make a choice—her own children or me.”

“What about you, Trin? What happened to your parents?” Trevor asked pointedly. “If you’re here, you must be an orphan too.” They all turned to look at her. She felt her face heat and she stared down at her hands.

“She doesn’t have to say if she doesn’t want to,” Rashida scolded him. “It’s not any of our business.” She gave her a kind look. But Trin knew they were expecting her to say something. After all, they’d all shared their stories with her—stories that must hurt to talk about just as much.

“I…I never knew my father,” she said at last. “He died before I was born. My mother…well, I guess she was one of us. She had the gift too. But the voices got too loud…” Her own voice cracked on the words and she found she couldn’t continue. In any case, what could she say? That her mom preferred to blow her own head off than spend Christmas Eve with her only child?

The girls looked at one another. Then, without saying a word, they reached out, grabbing Trin’s hands in their own and squeezing them tight. She watched, puzzled, as they closed their eyes in unison and bowed their heads. For a moment she was convinced they were about to break out into prayer. Or at least a rousing round of “Kumbaya.” But no words came from their lips. Instead, suddenly Trin felt an overwhelming sense of comfort pass through her. As if she were being wrapped up in a warm, billowy blanket and hugged tightly.

They’re using their gifts, she realized, fascinated. Trying to send her comfort. And it was working too. She could actually feel the anger and pain slipping away. Which was cool, she tried to tell herself. But also massively weird—not to mention invasive. Like, what if she wanted to keep that pain? Hold on to that anger? What if it was a part of her she wasn’t ready to let go of yet? They hadn’t even asked permission. Just dove inside her mind and—

She yanked her hands away.

The girls opened their eyes, gazing at her with pity. She averted her own eyes, staring down at the table in front of her, trying to still her erratic pulse. They’re only trying to be nice, she tried to tell herself. They aren’t trying to hurt me.

“In any case, that’s when the Dracken came,” Aiko continued, breaking the awkward silence. “They found us and rescued us and brought us back here, where we no longer have to worry about anything. Food, shelter, school—it’s all provided by the Dracken.” She stared off into the distance, a dreamy look on her face. “We owe them our lives.”

“We’re a family,” Rashida declared. “And now you’re our family too.”

They fell silent, as if waiting for her response. She bit her lower lip. She knew what they wanted her to say. The foster families had always wanted the same thing—for her to be thrilled to be a part of it all, for her to consider herself one of them. But try as she might, the words stuck in her throat, just like they had a dozen times before.

I’m not like you, she wanted to scream. I don’t belong here.

And this time it was especially true. After all, these kids had come here willingly, following the pied piper of dragons and his promises of a better life. They’d given up their freedom, their free will—and evidently the chance to wear something other than navy blue sweat pants. And yet they all seemed so happy, perfectly content to live out their lives in this creepy mall without Internet access or TV.

Content? something inside of her nagged, or brainwashed?

Either way, now she was stuck here right alongside them, she realized, as the panic rose inside of her once again. Whether she liked it or not.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Two hours later—or was it three?—Trinity paced the soft-carpeted floor of the most luxurious chamber she’d ever seen, located in a space that had once held a Baby Gap. Draped in lush crimsons and accented in gold, the room had all the luxuries Trinity could have ever imagined and then some, all done up in her favorite colors and styles.

It was almost as if someone had gone into her head and plucked all her secret fantasies from her brain and made them real. From the king-sized canopy bed wrapped in sheer silk curtains to the stylish sitting room with plush upholstery and a glittering chandelier. There was even a gigantic marble bathroom, complete with steam shower and whirlpool tub—and one of those fancy Japanese toilets with all the extra buttons that Trin had always been curious to try.

The other recruits—the Potentials—all lived in dorms, she’d been told, located in the former Sears at the other end of the mall. The boys on the second floor, the girls on the first. But the girl who had founded their organization—the Fire Kissed herself!—was too special to be subjected to those humble accommodations. She deserved only the best.

And only the best it was. The best prison cell ever.

It was the silence that was the worst. When she’d gotten back to her room after lunch, she’d tried to reach Emmy, to restore the connection between them. She’d gotten so used to the dragon babbling and chirping in her head over the last few days, the sudden absence felt deafening. Where had they taken her? Was she okay? She wondered if she’d made a mistake allowing them to make off with the egg in the first place. But Caleb had assured her they would take good care of the dragon. That was the whole reason they’d come back in time to begin with, after all. But still, Trinity couldn’t help but wonder.

A knock sounded on the door. She turned to it reluctantly. “Who’s there?” she asked.

“Caleb.”

Her heart started. Where had he been? She hadn’t seen him since they’d first arrived and she realized, annoyingly, that she’d kind of missed him. Which was stupid, she knew, to miss someone who’d basically kidnapped you and held you against your will. What did they call it? Stockholm syndrome? Ugh. What a total cliche. Just because he’d been kind to her, helped her shut out the voices in her head, held her hand as she cried for Emmy. Big freaking deal. At the end of the day, he was still sardonic and cynical and kind of a douche. Nothing like