his brave, heroic brother, Connor, who had honor and dignity and…
She sighed, stalking to the door and ripping it open. “Where have you been?” she demanded, her voice sounding angrier than she’d meant it to.
“Nice to see you too, princess,” he replied coolly as he stepped into the room. He had changed from his dusty road clothes and was now wearing a plain white T-shirt and slouchy jeans. His hair was still damp, slicked back from his face, and he smelled of Irish Spring soap. She cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected, as she stole a glance at herself in the mirror, wishing she’d taken the time to comb out her curls after her bath, then scolded herself for caring.
She realized he’d come bearing gifts—namely a cart of covered silver platters, linen napkins, fine tableware, and a carafe of what appeared to be coffee and another of soda. Prison room service? She would have laughed if she weren’t so pissed.
“I’m not hungry,” she declared, forcing her eyes away from the cart.
Caleb didn’t reply. Instead, he busied himself with the covers, removing them one by one. Heaping bowls of pasta, steaming platters of rice, pizzas dripping with cheese—it went on and on, the rich, savory smells torturing Trinity until her stomach betrayed her with a feral growl. After her uneasy conversation with the Potentials, she’d been too freaked out to eat and now she was absolutely ravenous. But still. She scowled and turned away, plopping down on her bed, arms crossed over her chest. She would not be bought by something as simple as a mall-cooked meal.
“I don’t want it,” she repeated. “Take it away.”
But Caleb only continued his reveal—mountains of mashed potatoes, buttery rolls fresh from the oven, glistening vegetables, and sugary desserts. Every single dish one of her favorites.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, giving her a skeptical look. “After all, everything’s been prepared exactly the way you like it according to our records.”
She frowned. According to their records. In other words, the time travelers had studied her life like it was some kind of history project—just like with the bedroom—thinking they could win her over by plying her with her favorite things. It should have felt good, for them to have given so much thought, taken so much care. But instead it felt invasive, an unfair advantage.
“Come on, Trin,” Caleb cajoled. “It’s just food. It’s not like I looked up your bra size.” He gave her a winning smile. She scowled back.
“What, do you want a medal for that?”
“Hey, I think I exhibited tremendous restraint!” He joined her over on the bed, dropping his impish grin and giving her a serious look. “Okay, what’s wrong?” he asked. “I thought you’d be pleased. The Dracken went through a lot of trouble to design all of this for you. We did extensive research into what makes you happy. So why aren’t you happy?”
He made it sound so simple, like a math problem or something. They gave her what she wanted; she’d do what they wanted. But it didn’t work like that.
“How can I be happy?” she demanded, turning to him and meeting his eyes with her own. She realized her hands were shaking and shoved them under her thighs. “I’ve lost everything I ever had. My only family is MIA and I’m trapped in a freaking shopping mall with the children of the corn. Trust me, no amount of pineapple and feta cheese pizza is going to make this any better.”
“Even if it came from Deluca’s?”
She involuntarily glanced over at the pizza sitting on the tray. “
“Sadly, no.” Caleb shrugged. “I was just curious if it would have made a difference.”
She groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it into his face. “You’re so not helping.”
“Oh really?” He tapped the side of his head, his eyebrows quirking. “Mind reader, remember? I know for a fact that I’m helping. Helping a lot, actually. You don’t want to admit it, I know. But that doesn’t make it untrue.”
Her face flushed. Rising to her feet, she stalked over to the other side of the room. “That’s so unfair,” she growled.
He laughed. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He pranced over and grabbed her hands in his. “But you’ve got to try to relax, princess. You’re going to drive yourself to an early grave. Which, I might selfishly mention, would be catastrophic for the rest of us sorry humans. After all, you’re—”
“The Fire Kissed,” she finished for him in her best over-the-top fantasy-film voice. “The one who will save our world.” She yanked her hands away. “Seriously, if you start telling me there’s one ring to rule them all or that the force will be with me always, I’m going to smack you upside the head.”
“Please,” he scoffed. “You don’t need the force or some silly ring—not when you have a dragon by your side.”
She groaned loudly, pressing a hand to the wall and leaning against it. “I’m going insane. That’s the only explanation for any of this. I’m going insane and the men in white coats will be showing up at any moment to tell me this has all been a psychotic delusion. They’ll take me away and lock me up, and I’ll be free to drool in the corner of my padded cell for the rest of my life without a care in the world.”
“But then you’d never see me again,” Caleb reminded her with a wink.
“Really? Can I get that in writing?”
He gave her a mock offended look, then grabbed her arm, dragging her back over to the bed. He sat her down, taking her hands in his own. She tried not to notice the way her skin warmed under his touch—or the shivers that tripped up her spine as his eyes turned serious.
“Look, I get it, okay?” he said. “I understand how hard it must be for you to be here. And the Dracken can come off as pretty radical—”
“Radical?” Trinity repeated. “Come on, Caleb. If you looked up ‘evil cult out to destroy the world’ in the dictionary, you’d find these guys’ pictures.”
He shook his head vehemently. “You’re getting the wrong idea. I’m telling you. Darius and Mara and the rest of them aren’t like that at all. They’re good people. They believe in what they’re fighting for. They’re trying to save the world. And you’re so important to that mission.
Trinity bit her lower lip, hating the fact he was making so much sense. She turned to face the wall, feeling his stare burning at her back but refusing to meet his eyes. For a moment he was silent. Then he spoke.
“I was homeless,” he stated flatly, “living on the streets of Strata-D, probably only a few demerits away from a lifetime in the mines. Everyone had dismissed me, the no-good shadow of my hero brother.” He sighed, remembering. “But then Darius came. He plucked me from the streets and offered me hope. Recognized my gift and gave me a job. He told me I could be great if only someone would give me a chance.” His voice cracked. “And then he gave me that chance. So here I am, working every day to prove he wasn’t wrong about me.”
His words were so earnest, so proud. But Trinity could hear the doubt threaded just below the surface. As if he himself wondered if he was worthy of the chance he’d been given.
“He can save you too, Trin,” Caleb said softly. “If only you’ll let him.”
A silence fell over the room as she struggled for a clever reply. But her mind had gone completely blank. The silence stretched, awkward and long. Finally, Caleb let out a long, deep sigh.
“Look,” he said, “do you want to get out of here for a bit?”
She turned, her eyes widening. “Can we?”
“Well, not like you’re probably thinking,” he admitted. “I mean, your physical body has to stay here in the mall. Darius would kill me if I put you at risk. But we could go to the Nether.”
“The Nether?” she repeated doubtfully. “You mean the place with the dragons?”
Caleb nodded. “It’s a place beyond time and space,” he replied, “ruled by the collective unconsciousness of dragons. Before they’re born and after they die, they exist here, in this Nether space. Those with the gift have the ability to travel there, channeling our energies through special gems.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out two glittering rubies, and grinned. “It’s like this big, amazing playground—and it can become anything you make of it.”
