“No,” Ember said, putting a hand on my arm. “That’s not what I wanted to show you. Look at this.”
She pointed to the coffee table, holding it on its side. It was scorched on one corner, a large black burn mark covering half the surface, but below that, raked across the wood, were four long, straight gashes.
“What do those look like?” Ember whispered, and I closed my eyes.
“Claw marks.”
“Excuse me.”
We turned. Two men were entering the trailer home, frowning at us as they stepped through the door.
“I’m sorry,” the older one said, gazing around at us, “but this is an ongoing investigation. Who are you, and what authorization do you have to be here?”
Before I could stand up or say anything, Jade turned, flashing her badge for both men to see. “Department of Homeland Security,” she said in a firm, no-nonsense voice. “We are here to assess the situation and determine whether or not we need to escalate the current threat level.”
“The DHS?” The older human looked unsure. “No one said you were coming. When did—”
“Do you have evidence to support this was not a terrorist attack made on American soil?” Jade interrupted, stepping forward slightly. The man blinked.
“I...no, not really. We’re still—”
“Then it is possible this was a malicious attack carried out by extremists.”
“I suppose.” The human sighed and looked away, flustered. “Look, we don’t really know what we have yet,” he admitted. “The evidence we’ve gathered so far has been...strange. The inspector has been trying to keep everything under wraps until we figure out what really happened here. If you want, you can check out the evidence tent at the end of the road. See the weirdness for yourself.”
“Thank you,” Jade said, and gave a brittle smile. “We will do that.” She started to turn but paused, staring at the human as if surprised he was still there. “You may go now.”
The two men retreated, practically scrambling over each other to get out of the house. They fled, slamming the door behind them, and strode away down the road without looking back. Jade, standing at the edge of the room with her arms crossed, allowed herself a triumphant smirk.
“Damn,” I said as the Eastern dragon turned back. “That was impressive. I guess I’m not the only one with a master’s in BS.”
She smiled. “The DHS does have a public website,” she said. “They list their mission statement, job offers, history, everything. When Wesley told me how we were getting onto the crash site today, I did my research. But yes.” Her smile widened. “If it is necessary for our survival, I have been known to ‘bullshit’ with the best of them from time to time.”
I snorted a laugh. “Wish you were around a couple years ago. I could’ve used the help. Anyway...” I glanced out the hole in the wall, down the road where the two men had disappeared. “Shall we track down this evidence tent and see if we can uncover what the hell is going on?”
The evidence tent wasn’t hard to find, being a large white structure at the edge of the road and the only building that wasn’t charred, scorched or burned to the ground. Humans in suits and white coats were swarming in and out of it, but other than flashing my badge at the entrance, we didn’t really get a second glance. Inside, metal shelves ran the length of one canvas wall, each of them holding boxes marked with labels in clear plastic bags. Immediately, Ember headed to the wall, her innate curiosity no doubt driving her forward, while St. George hovered at our backs, watching the crowd. Grateful that the soldier was keeping an eye out, I walked up and peeked into one box.
It held an assortment of clothing in more plastic bags. But as I looked closer, I saw that most of the garments had large brown stains soaking the fabric. Blood. And a lot of it, judging from the mangled clothes. I looked at the next box in line and saw more of the same; only this time, I could make out several long, straight tears in some of the clothes, as if made by the edge of a knife.
Or the claws of a very large reptile.
“It seems the evidence against Talon is becoming more and more damning,” Jade remarked, also peering into the containers. “Between the fires, general destruction and the Talon agent on the news, it certainly seems like the organization is at least partially involved.”
“I still can’t believe they’d be this sloppy,” I said. “They had to have known that something this big would cause a huge investigation, with everyone scrambling to figure out what the hell happened.” I snorted. “Plane crash, my ass. I bet it’s not even Talon that’s trying to cover this up—the government has no idea what they’re dealing with, so they invented a cover story to keep things quiet until they can figure it out. And since Talon has agents seeded throughout all the government agencies, they’re only too happy to help.”
“That might be true, but it is not the question that needs answering,” Jade mused. “If the organization is involved, then the real question becomes why. What could they possibly hope to gain here?”
“Riley,” Ember murmured in a warning voice. She pulled a bag out of a nearby crate. I looked up, and my stomach flipped.
Resting in the bag was a small, flat oval, pointed on one end and glittering a dull iron gray. Even though the color was strange, one I’d never seen before, I knew what it was instantly. We all did.
A dragon scale.
“Give me that, Firebrand,” Riley muttered, quickly stepping forward and taking the bag from my hands. It vanished into his suit pocket as he glanced around warily. “No point in giving the humans any more hints that dragons are real. Or at least that something very unnatural went down.” He eyed a human wandering by who looked like a scientist, then lowered his voice again. “Regardless, I think we’ve seen all we need to see here.”
“I agree,” Jade said, nodding. “From the evidence, it is safe to assume that dragons attacked this town in their true form, and that Talon is at least partially responsible. Unfortunately, that theory creates more questions than it answers. Why would they attack this community? Especially since, as Riley pointed out, the entire point of the organization is to hide the existence of dragons from the human population. Why risk that now?”
Riley shook his head. “I have no clue, but I get the feeling we’re not going to like the answer.”
Abruptly, Garret stalked back, his gaze intense as he swept between us. “The woman you described is approaching this location,” he said in a low voice, making Riley jerk up.
“Hell. Miranda is coming? Come on, we can’t be seen by her.”
We fast-walked toward the end of the room, passing more humans and looking for a way out as we went deeper into the tent. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be a back exit, and the open room offered very few hiding spots.
“There,” Riley said, nodding toward a corner of the tent that had been sectioned off. Plastic flaps hung to the floor, and the area beyond was dark. With Riley leading and Garret watching our backs, we hurried across the room and ducked through the plastic walls.
My stomach recoiled. The room beyond the flaps was dim and cold, and the sickly smell of death lingered on the air, masked by chemicals and disinfectant. A pair of stainless-steel tables stood in the center of the room, and atop the farthest counter was something long and suspiciously body shaped, covered with a sheet.
I drew in a slow breath to quiet my heartbeat and nudged Garret, who was still peering through the flaps to watch for the Chameleon. He glanced at me with a puzzled frown, but it quickly faded when he realized what I was staring at.
“There