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  “Don’t you want me to help—?”

  “I think you’ve done enough,” she snapped.

  Grandpa’s face crumpled, and her heart broke as she caught the hurt in his eyes. But her anger burned too hot for her to back down now. He had to know that what he’d done wasn’t okay. It wasn’t funny or kooky or cute this time. He was supposed to be the adult, the one who took care of her. And like every other adult in her life, he’d let her down.

  “Okay,” he said in a soft, desperate voice. “I’ll pick up the Chinese food on the way home. Extra duck sauce, just as you like it.”

  “Sure. Whatever.” As if she could eat. As if it would taste like anything but cardboard.

  “And maybe you can open up just one present…”

  She scowled, turning away, staring hard at the wall, willing the tears not to fall. She could feel her grandpa’s eyes burning into her back but refused to acknowledge them—refused to let him off the hook that easy.

  After what felt like an eternity, she heard his deep sigh followed by fading footsteps. Only after the door clanked shut did she allow herself to cry, sinking to the floor, head in her hands, violent sobs choking from her throat as tears rained down her cheeks. The kind of ugly cry she only allowed herself to have when she was sure no one was around to see.

  Trinity…

  Her head shot up. Oh God, was someone here?

  Don’t cry, Trinity.

  Her face flushed crimson. Who had caught her in such a mess? But the room was empty. The door remained closed. Had she simply imagined the voice?

  She shook herself, feeling stupid, then rose to her feet, swiping away the tears with her sleeve. She was just stressed. Stressed and exhausted. She needed to lock up and go home and lose herself in a marathon session of Fields of Fantasy—pre-expansion pack. Slay a bunch of virtual dragons and get this real-life nightmare out of her head.

  Why would you want to hurt a dragon?

  What? She stopped in her tracks. “Who’s there?” she demanded angrily, her voice echoing through the chamber. Was this some kind of joke?

  No answer.

  “Grandpa? Is that you?” she tried again. But even as she asked, she knew it couldn’t have been her guardian. The voice was too high-pitched, too plaintive—the voice of a young child, not an old man. Maybe one of the kids from the earlier tour? Her eyes darted around the chamber, searching for some kind of corner or crevice where a child could hide. But she came up empty. The only ones here were her…

  …and the egg.

  She found herself glancing fearfully at the glass case, heart racing in her chest. But the golden sphere only gleamed back at her, still and silent as the grave. She grimaced. What was she thinking? That the exhibits were coming to life and crying out her name? God, that was the kind of fantasy her mother would have concocted near the end. She reached for her missing ring again, then gave up and started back toward the exit.

  Don’t go, Trinity. Don’t leave me here alone.

  “Stop it—it isn’t funny!” she cried, fear throttling her now. “Seriously, show yourself or I’m going to call the cops.” But no mysterious child stepped forward to claim the voice. It was almost as if it had come from thin air…

  Or from her own head.

  Like mother like daughter, something inside of her jeered. She pushed it angrily away.

  It’s just this damned place, she tried to assure herself as she stalked out of the room, grabbing her jacket from the office and heading toward the exit, her steps reverberating through the cavernous hall. A glorified graveyard of fossilized ghosts—it would have anyone hearing things. Hell, maybe she could transform it into a haunted house next Halloween. That would be one way to bring in some cash at least.

  Because the alternative explanation…

  I’m nothing like Mom. Nothing like Mom.

  A squeal outside caused her to pause at the front door. It was a welcoming sound—a real sound, existing outside her head. She peered out the front window and, to her surprise, saw a large, black truck idling just beyond the front parking lot, the rear door rolled open. She watched, curious, as a group of men dressed in black and armed with heavy artillery started spilling out the back, heading straight across the parking lot and toward the museum.

  “What the…?” she whispered.

  On impulse, she clicked the deadbolt into place. As if that was going to stop some kind of impending invasion. The place had never exactly been Fort Knox when it came to security, even when it was holding treasures that might be worth stealing. She glanced out the window again, panic raging through her. Were they really planning to break into the museum?

  Well, they’re probably not here for the guided tour.

  She decided not to wait to find out. Turning on her heel, she bolted from the door, back into the museum, her mind racing and her pulse pounding out her fear. Should she call Grandpa? The police? Should she try to escape out the back door or would they have the place surrounded? And what would she be escaping from anyway? Who were they? What did they want? And why would they be here in the first place? It wasn’t like they had anything left worth—

  The egg.

  She stopped short. What if it was valuable after all? What if someone had gotten wind of its arrival and had come to steal it? Or what if it was stolen to begin with—if the researchers hadn’t found it in a glacier after all? The authorities could have tracked it down here and come to take it back to its rightful owners. It seemed crazy, but it was the only explanation that made any sense.

  She looked around, realizing she’d stopped directly in front of the Millennium Chamber. She also realized that the door, which she was sure she’d left open, was now securely closed. Was there someone inside? Were they taking back the egg? She imagined her grandpa’s face when she was forced to tell him his golden treasure had been ripped away before he’d ever gotten a chance to share it with the world. It would kill him. Absolutely kill him. And any hope she had to recoup what he’d spent would be gone forever.

  She hesitated at the door. Maybe she could reason with them. Or at least let them know it wasn’t her grandpa’s fault. He’d never willingly purchase stolen property. He might be gullible. He might deluded. But he wasn’t a criminal. She drew in a breath and approached slowly, apprehension coursing through her. Wrapping her hand around the doorknob, she gingerly pushed it open, peering inside.

  The Millennium Chamber was no longer empty.

  The boy inside was tall and broad shouldered, around her age, and dressed in a strange jumpsuit of shimmering metallic material—very unlike the men in black she’d seen outside. He had a sharp-angled face, messy brown hair, and serious blue eyes. But what was truly startling was his skin. So pale it was almost translucent.

  Closing in on the display case, the boy reached into his bag. With one fluid movement, he pulled out what appeared to be a small pistol, though unlike any Trin had ever seen. She gasped as he raised the weapon and smashed it down on the glass with surprising force.

  What the hell was he trying to do?

  Chapter Five

  “Damn you, blasted thing,” Connor swore under his breath as he slammed his laser pistol against the case a second time. But it was no use; the glass remained intact and the egg inside only gleamed back at him, as if mocking his efforts. He needed something heavier—a bat maybe or some kind of crowbar. The kinds of tools he could have easily acquired had he been given the four months he’d been promised.

  He raised the gun again, started to swing—

  “Get the hell away from that!”

  Startled, he lost his grip. The pistol bounced harmlessly off the case and skittered across the floor to the opposite side of the room. He spun around, his jaw dropping as his eyes fell upon none other than Trinity Foxx herself, standing in the doorway.

  Holy shiny dragon scales.

  She was younger, of course, than any of the grainy photos or videos he’d seen on his reader. They’d all been taken years later. She was smaller than
he’d pictured her too. In the photos, she’d always seemed larger than life. Her hair was darker and longer, tumbling down her back in untamed waves, and her skin was freckled and tanned from a life spent on the Surface Lands.

  And yet, he realized, for all those differences, her eyes were exactly the same—midnight black, almost too large for her face, framed with a sweeping curtain of lash. He swallowed hard, heart racing. How many nights had he spent at the academy, under a blanket, reader in hand, studying that face? Wondering how a girl with eyes like that could bring about the end of the world?

  Now he finally had a chance to find out. And, more importantly, a chance to stop her.

  He bit his lower lip as he turned back to the display. His plan had called for getting her as far away from the egg as possible before the Reckoning took place. That way she’d never be close enough to hear the fiend’s call. But it was too late for that now. And maybe she could help him. With the government agents running through the halls, he didn’t have much time left.

  “Look, do you have a key or something?” he asked, gesturing to the case. It felt strange to be addressing someone so notorious, and he wondered if she could hear the slight tremble in his voice. “We need to get this egg out of here. Now!”

  She stared at him, disbelief clear on her face. Then her brows furrowed and her frown deepened. Not surprising, he supposed. She had no idea he was the only person who could save the world. And he had no time to explain.

  “Are you kidding me? Look, I’ve called the cops. They’re on their way. So I suggest you get out of here now, before it’s too late.” He could hear the thread of hysteria winding through her bold-faced lie as she worked overtime to keep her terror masked from his view. He found himself admiring her tenacity even though it was at odds with his mission.

  “You don’t understand,” he tried, his mind whirling, trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation in the shortest amount of time. If only he’d had those four months! “My name is Connor. I’m here to help you. The men breaking into the museum—they’ll do whatever it takes to get this egg. We have to get it out of here before they find it.”

  “We?” she repeated, her dark eyes impaling him. “There is no we. Now get the hell away from there.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a strange metal canister from her purse. He squinted at it; was it some kind of weapon? A grenade of some sort? He was really getting sick of all these surprises.

  Holding up his hands in surrender, he stepped back from the case, glancing longingly at his pistol, still out of reach on the other side of the room. But maybe it was best this way. Let her unlock the case, then jump in and grab the egg before she could put her hands on it.

  “Just don’t touch it,” he warned, as she fumbled with a set of brass keys. He realized her hands were shaking furiously, at odds with her defiant expression. “I’m serious.”

  “What, is it going to bite me?” she retorted, finding the proper key and sliding it into the lock. The case popped open. Connor’s eyes zeroed in on the egg.

  Now! He made his move, lunging toward the prize. But Trinity was too quick, turning on him and blasting him in the face with a hot stream of liquid from her canister. Connor staggered, blinded, his eyes burning as if on fire. He rubbed them with his fists, trying to clear them, but only managed to increase the sting.

  “Please!” he begged. “Whatever you do, don’t touch the egg!”

  She didn’t answer. And when his vision finally cleared, she was gone.

  And so was the egg.

  “Damn it!” he cried, grabbing his pistol and bag, and running out of the room. He couldn’t lose her or the egg. The future of the world depended on it. He raced down the hallway, following the sounds of her footsteps slapping against the marble floors some distance ahead. He glanced behind him, half expecting the operatives to be hot on his heels. But thankfully the corridor was empty.

  I could have saved her, he thought wildly, as he cut through the dinosaur exhibit. I could have gotten her out of this whole mess unharmed. She could have lived a normal life, had a happily ever after.

  But now it was too late.

  A scream echoed through the hallway. Her scream—coming from right around the corner. He skittered to a stop, swinging a hard right into the sea-life installation. Ducking behind a giant turtle fossil, he located Trinity, in the grip of a burly man dressed in black. She was still clutching the egg with white-knuckled fingers as the man pressed a pistol to her temple.

  “Let me go!” she screamed, fighting him with all her might. But the man outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and, by the looks of it, had a killer grip.

  “I’ve got some girl,” he reported into a black metal device attached to his shoulder. “She was trying to escape with the egg.”

  “Don’t let her go,” a voice crackled over the airwaves. “I’ll be right there.”

  Connor froze, his heart in his throat. That voice. He’d recognize it anywhere. As if it were his own. But that was impossible. There was no way he could be here. Unless…

  Oh God. Had the Dracken come after the egg too?

  He’d have to figure it out later. Right now, all that mattered was freeing Trinity and retrieving the egg—before either the government or the Dracken showed up. Forcing his hands to stay steady, he attempted to line up his target. But Trinity was in the way—a human shield—and he couldn’t find a clear shot. And if he cried out to her, he’d give his position away.

  Could he send to her? While he couldn’t direct her thoughts thanks to his current lack of spark, he could probably muster up a helpful suggestion or two and pray she thought it was a good idea.

  He squared his shoulders. It was a weak plan, at best. But he had no other options. And he was running out of time. Squeezing his eyes shut, he lobbed a command as hard as he could in her general direction, praying she’d hear and obey.

  Duck! Now!

  He opened his eyes and focused back on her. Her gaze darted around the room, as if trying to locate something. Someone. Had she heard him? Would she understand what he needed her to do? Would she obey his order even if she did?

  Trust me, he tried. It’s the only way to save you now.

  She heard him that time—he saw it in her eyes—giving him an almost imperceptible nod before purposely shifting her weight, slumping to the ground, and catching her captor off guard. As the man struggled to retain his grip, Connor made his shot. The laser from his pistol sang true and a moment later the man’s head exploded in a burst of green plasma. The egg fell from Trinity’s grasp and started rolling across the room.

  Good girl, he sent with a grin. It was the first thing that had gone right all day.

  Diving for the egg, Connor locked it into his arms before turning to Trinity, who was staring at the now-headless man, mouth gaping. “Come on,” he commanded, shifting the egg and offering his free hand to help her to her feet. “We have to go. Now!”

  She hesitated at first, then reached up, her fingers brushing his, connecting the two of them for the first time and sending a shock straight to his core.

  For a moment, time stopped—simply stopped—and all he could feel was her. Pure, unbridled emotion. White hot fury warring with icy cold fear. It was all he could do not to jerk his hand away.

  “It really is you,” he whispered, fascination mixing with horror.

  She was as powerful as the legends had said. Maybe even more so. All that raw energy, that spark burning inside of her. To bind that to a dragon…Connor shuddered.

  Thank fleck he’d gotten to her first.

  Chapter Six

  Outside the museum, Trinity turned to her rescuer, adrenaline pumping wildly through her veins. “Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers fluttering involuntarily to her neck, where she could still feel the burning of her captor’s rough hand. She had been so sure she was dead—that he’d pull the trigger and it would all be over in a flash of light. Until this stranger had charged in and saved the day—like a cap
ed crusader with a Star Trek gun. “I’m sorry I Maced you,” she added guiltily. “I just thought—”

  “Come on,” Connor interrupted, glancing at the door they’d exited from. Under the glow of the streetlights, she caught a ghost of fear flicker across his otherwise impassive face. “We need to keep moving.”

  She hesitated, her feet feeling glued to the pavement. Should she follow him? He’d saved her life. But could she trust him? Or was he just another one of the thieves after the egg? Of course, he already had the egg. If that was all he was after, he would have already left her to fend for herself.

  “Come on!” he repeated, his voice rasping with urgency. “I can’t fight them all at once!”

  And she couldn’t let him just take off with her grandpa’s egg. “Okay,” she declared, making up her mind. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Connor turned and ran, the egg cradled under his arm like a football, gun holstered to his side. As she followed, sprinting down the street alongside the museum, she could hear the emergency door bang open again, men’s voices cutting into the night air.

  “Don’t let her get away!”

  Dashing down the street, dodging trashcans and debris, Connor was quick and nimble as he spun a quick left, then right, passing the local Arby’s before turning into an empty parking lot. Trin did her best to follow, trying to ignore the shouting and banging behind her—the sounds of their pursuers gaining ground. Her heart sped up, spiking her adrenaline as her feet pounded the pavement—one by one by one. As she turned the corner, she nearly plowed into her rescuer, who had, for some reason, stopped short. She opened her mouth to beg him to keep going, then realized he couldn’t.

  The parking lot dead-ended at a tall, barbed-wire fence.

  Trin looked up at the chain links, nerves tensing. Long ropes of barbed wire gleamed back with sharp-toothed smiles. She glanced around the parking lot, desperate for an alternate escape route, but came up blank. There was no alternative.