Scorched by Mari Mancusi Page B

back at the house, a pleasant ache settling in his stomach as he thought of Trin, waiting inside. He could still feel the ghost of her lips against his own and it made him smile like a first-year academy student.
    Then he frowned. What the hell was he doing? Only jeopardizing his entire mission. After all, what was the one thing the Council had warned him about—above everything else?
    Do not get attached.
    Of course, that order had seemed much simpler when given back in the sterile, cold debriefing room, deep underground, two hundred years in the future. After all, why would anyone want to get attached to her —the girl destined to bring dragons back into the world? The one who had set in motion the Scorch that had led to the deaths of millions of innocent people? People like his father. He should want Trinity Foxx dead.
    And yet, somehow, at that moment, all he could think of was running his hands through her glossy black hair, fingering each and every strand. Pulling her into his arms, breathing in her baby powder scent…
    What is wrong with you? You’re a Dragon Hunter. Get a grip!
    He shook his head, firming his resolve. She was a weakness. And he couldn’t afford weaknesses. His mission was too important. The entire world was depending on him to succeed. Not to mention his father.
    He’d let his father down once. He wasn’t about to do it again. When the time came, he would do what he had come here to do. No excuses, end of story. They were his orders after all. And Connor always followed orders.

PART 2:
    SMOKE

Chapter Fifteen
    “Trinity! Wake up! Wake up!”
    Trinity shrieked as rough hands grabbed her, shaking her shoulders, forcing her awake. Her eyes flew open. Connor stood above her, a strained expression on his face. “They’ve found us,” he said in a tight voice. “We have to get out of here.”
    The jolt of terror was a better wake-up call than any shot of espresso, and Trinity was up in an instant, stuffing her feet into her shoes. As she looked around, eyes still bleary, her foggy brain tried to piece together the night. Connor had left to get her grandfather. She’d gone upstairs, drained from her trip to the Nether, and collapsed onto her old bed, hoping to rest her eyes for just a moment before they returned.
    “Where’s Grandpa?” she asked. “Did you get him?”
    He shook his head grimly. “There was…a complication,” he told her, shoving a coat, then a backpack into her hands. The dragon egg was inside, she realized, feeling the warm, smooth shell under the canvas, even now tempting her to pull it from its sheath and cradle it in her arms. Pushing the urge from her mind, she slipped the straps over her shoulders instead. Then she turned to Connor. He put a finger to his lips.
    “They’re downstairs,” he hissed. “We need to go out the window.”
    Who was downstairs? The government? Or worse…the Dracken? Panic surged through her as she watched Connor force open a creaky window at the other end of the room. A complication. What did that mean? Was her grandpa all right? Or had they gotten him after all? A cold knot formed in her stomach as nightmarish possibilities whirled through her brain.
    “Go!” Connor instructed, gesturing to the now-open window. “I’ll be right behind you.”
    Forcing down her fear, Trin managed to climb out through the window frame onto the sloped roof. The temperature had dropped and the wind rushed in her ears. Thank goodness Connor had thought to give her a coat. Gingerly, she slid her way down to the edge of the slick roof, peering over the side. Oh God. She bit her lower lip, terror racing through her. They were still up so high!
    “You’ve got to jump!” Connor commanded, his voice suddenly in her ear, startling her and almost causing her to slip. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her. “I’ve jammed the window, but it won’t take them long to break it.”
    She stared down at the ground below, which seemed to weave in and out of