Mist’s expression remained neutral. “A Chameleon in training,” she remarked, raising a slender eyebrow, “using humor to defuse a tense situation. Classic disarming technique.”
I kept the smile on my face. “Did it work?”
She blinked, and the other corner of her mouth twitched. “No,” she replied, though her eyes said differently. “But thank you for trying. I am, unfortunately, well versed in the various faction trainings and techniques. Your Chameleon charm is not going to work on me, I’m afraid.”
“Give it time.”
The elevator had passed the first floor. And still, we continued to descend. Past the basement, and the subbasement, going even deeper underground. “Do you have something against Chameleons?” I went on, wondering how many sublevels this place had. The glowing numbers above the door had stopped moving altogether.
“Not at all,” Mist replied. “Chameleons are a vital part of Talon. We all have our place.” Her piercing blue eyes remained brutally honest as she looked me over, assessing. “What I don’t like is having vital information kept from me, especially if I need it to do my job.”
I gave her a puzzled frown. “You think I’m hiding something from you? That’s a rather hasty conclusion. We haven’t known each other very long.”
“It’s not you, Mr. Hill.” Mist’s tone remained coolly polite. “But you must know that this situation with your sister is not normal. Why is Talon so interested in her? Cobalt I can
understand—he’s a dangerous fugitive who has caused real harm to the organization, and his actions cannot be ignored any longer. The rogue must be stopped, that is very clear.” Her piercing blue gaze sharpened, cutting into me. “But why is Talon so invested in bringing her back? Why go through all this trouble? Ember Hill is a hatchling who has done nothing for the organization.” Mist’s eyes narrowed even further. “Why is she so special?”
Her words were eerily familiar, as I heard my own suspicions parroted back at me. The situation with Ember wasn’t normal. Talon was expending considerable resources to return her to the organization when they could have sent out a Viper and been done with it. Even bringing me on was puzzling. Yes, I was her brother and the person who knew her best, but why bother? What made her—our—situation so special?
However, I wasn’t going to tell Mist that I shared her concerns. If I was going to bring Ember back, if I was going to make a future for us in Talon, then I had to appear fully in control of the situation at all times. I could not appear weak, or scared, or unsure, because Talon had no use for dragons who failed. I was not going to fail.
“I’m afraid I can’t give you the details,” I told Mist, who gave me a cold look but didn’t seem surprised. Talon shared information only if they thought it was necessary; that much at least she understood. “I would,” I went on, “if I were allowed. Just know that finding Ember is our top priority. The Elder Wyrm wishes that she be returned to the organization. The reasons are irrelevant.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. Mist watched me a moment longer, blue eyes appraising, then gave a tiny nod. “Of course,” she said, coolly professional once more, and motioned me into the hall. “This way, Mr. Hill. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.”
“Just call me Dante,” I invited, a tactic to gain her loyalty, and followed her down a long, brightly lit corridor past several offices, until we came to a door at the very end. Without hesitation, Mist pushed it back, and we went through.
I gazed around, impressed. The room beyond was enormous, a sprawling floor of desks, computers, flashing screens, and people. Aisles of long counters snaked their way across the room, each holding numerous computers with glassy-eyed humans sitting in front of them. The entire back wall was one enormous screen divided into numerous parts that projected a dozen images of maps, satellite feeds, security cams and more. The murmur of voices, ringing phones, buzzing computers and clicking keyboards all blended into a general cacophony of noise that flowed over me as I stepped through the door.
“This is our operating center,” Mist explained, leading me across the floor. All around us, humans hurried by or typed feverishly at their desks, avoiding eye contact. Mist continued as if she didn’t notice or care. “Talon has dozens of these centers all around the world. It’s where we monitor Talon’s assets, keep an eye on St. George movement and track persons of interest to the organization. We’re mostly in charge of the western region of the US, which is where we think your sister is right now.”
She stopped at a desk where two humans sat across from each other, a pair of large screens separating them. When Mist’s shadow fell over the desk, the overweight male and small bespectacled female looked up and gave her polite, fixed smiles, which she ignored.
“Mr. Davids and Ms. Kimura have been tasked with locating your sister,” Mist told me, not even looking at the two humans. “They’ve been trying to pinpoint her location ever since she left Crescent Beach. Unfortunately, they’ve been unable to find any trace of her, or Cobalt, unless something has changed in the time I’ve been gone?”
She looked down at the humans as she said this, and both of them went pale.
“No, ma’am,” the male said quickly. “So far, there have been no leads on Ember Hill or the rogue dragon Cobalt. We know they’re still in California somewhere, but other than that, we’ve been unable to get a lock on them.”
“Where have you been looking?” I asked, making all of them glance at me. Mist raised her eyebrows in amused—or annoyed—surprise, but I ignored her. The humans paused, obviously wondering who I was, some bossy kid in a business suit come strolling into their affairs. I kept the smile on my face and held their gazes with my own, polite but expectant, and after a moment, they looked away.
“We’ve been able to uncover a couple of Cobalt’s nests in the past,” the male informed me, quickly turning back to the screen. “His so-called ‘safe houses’ for rogue dragons. We’ve been monitoring those areas, hoping he might return to one of them to hide. Unfortunately, when one goes down, he often moves the rest, so we haven’t been able to pin him down.”
“What about his network?” I asked. “If he has so many safe houses, he has to be able to communicate with them somehow. Have you tried tracing messages back to his location?”