The crowd of hunters huddle close and speak to one another in voices that can’t be heard.

“What’s going on?” Will calls out.

Buzz Cut looks back, his expression more annoyed than ever. “You and your girlfriend need to move along.”

“Uh, hello? Car trouble,” I remind in an exasperated voice.

Buzz Cut mutters something unintelligible. Hunting draki in front of witnesses isn’t their MO, but then that’s our plan. To make their job difficult, and give the others time to get away. Except Cassian. He’s not going anywhere, apparently.

“We need to move,” the guy holding the box says. “Before it gets out of range.”

It.

I bristle, fully aware that they’re talking about draki. And now I’m certain that little black device spells serious trouble—as if I had any doubts before. Somehow it’s a draki tracker. But it’s not in high alert around me. Maybe I have to be fully manifested? If that’s the case, then the device can only be giving off signals because of Deghan. I almost smirk to think of this small group coming upon Deghan. Yeah. Good luck taking him down.

My half-smirk slips away as a thought strikes me.

I lift a hand to my head and burrow my fingers through my thick mass of hair to the small patch of exposed skin above my ear where they shaved me. Suddenly it all clicks. Cold realization ices down my spine.

A lump rises in my throat and I fight to swallow it back down.

I’m pretty certain that if I was to check Miram’s head, I would find a similarly shaved spot on her skull. Now I understand what they were trying to do to me right before Will and Cassian rescued me. They were going to implant a tracking device of some sort …

The same kind of thing now inside Miram.

My fingers slip away from my scalp and my gaze snaps to the tree line with sudden awareness. They failed on me, but not with Miram. Or Deghan. Not with the amount of time they’d spent as captives. Bile rises in my throat, mingling with an acrid char. I hadn’t thought to ask Miram whether she’d been forced under the knife like I had. I’d been too busy focusing on escape, and then, later, coping with Cassian’s presumed death.

Urgency swells up inside me now. If Miram or Deghan has been implanted, there is no escape for them. Hunters are all about the pursuit. Bloodhounds. And thanks to the enkros, they’ve been given the tools to excel at their duty.

Buzz Cut snaps his fingers at us as if we’re dogs to be commanded, and I can’t help but jump a little, knowing the true danger of that box. “You two. In the van. Lock the doors.”

Knowing I at least have to stall them, I shake my head and cross my arms firmly across my chest, relieved my voice doesn’t shake as I say, “I don’t take orders—”

My words die as he strides across the road toward me with fast steps. Will reaches for my arm, holds me still, communicating that I should keep it together right now even though the prospect of blowing a fireball into this hunter’s face not only thrills me—it feels necessary.

The hunter points a long finger at Will. “Get your girl here in line and get inside that van. We’re hunting a dangerous animal and I don’t need two dumb kids getting caught in the crossfire.”

Behind him, his team starts removing their gear and weapons from their vehicles. Getting ready to go after the others. I follow their movements with a desperate panic.

My gaze narrows on the box and my fingers curl, nails digging deeply into my palms. I fight down the impulse to snatch it from them and destroy it. Break and shatter it on the ground. They’d know that Will and I aren’t the clueless couple with car trouble then. My throat tightens. There has to be a better way …

Still, I inch forward, drawn to the box, logic fading as I think only of getting my hands on it, snatching it and destroying it.

Will starts pulling me toward our van. I drag my feet, sending him a pointed look that he ignores.

Once inside the vehicle, closed in the small front space of the van, I burst out with “The box is a tracking device!”

“I guessed as much,” he answers. Shaking his head as if that weren’t his biggest concern, he mutters, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Out the dirty window, I watch in dread as the hunters disappear into the trees. “You don’t understand. I think the enkros implant some type of homing device in the draki they take captive. In case of escape, you know …” I point to my own head. “They were about to do it to me. Did you know any of this?” My voice sounds sharper than I intend.

Will’s expression hardens, the skin around his eyes looking tighter. “If I knew I would have mentioned it, don’t you think, Jacinda?”

I wince, hating that I said that, hating the echo of accusation hovering between us. “Sorry,” I say sincerely.

Will nods, asking in a brisk tone that lets me know he’s moving on, concentrating on coming up with a plan, “So this device is inside Miram? And Deghan?”

“Yes—I think so.”

“Let’s go,” Will spits out. We hop outside, closing the doors softly behind us. I lead the way, stepping silently in a straight line for Cassian’s tree.

Looking up, I whisper loudly, “Come down.”

“I’m right here.”

I spin around with a gasp. My speeding heart lurches. Cassian’s behind us, almost fully transformed. His face is entirely draki—sharp angles and hollows, ridged nose, charcoal-toned skin. Only his body isn’t there yet. No wings stretch above his shoulders.

“They went this way.” He waves to us.

Will and I share a look and I know I have to try to explain. “Cassian … wait.”

He looks over his shoulder at me without stopping.

I fall in step beside him. “Miram has a tracking device on her. The enkros put it in her.”

He stops to face me. “What?”

I sigh, my words tumbling free. “You heard me. They can find her. Anywhere.”

Panic washes over his face as this sinks in and he starts moving again, growling over his shoulder, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just figured it out,” I say after him.

Cassian’s injuries quickly become obvious. He doesn’t move with his usual speed and we soon have to slow to stay near him. His breath labors behind us in noisy pants and I know he’s pushing himself as much as he can.

The hunters aren’t hard to track. Even though they are stealthy, they’ve torn a path through weeds and brush. Will takes the lead and I place my feet where he steps, one eye on his broad back racing ahead, and the other scanning the green world pulsing around us. Wind sifts through the grass and leaves, but nothing else stirs.

Will stops, holding up a hand. He looks over his shoulder at me, then Cassian. Be ready, he mouths. And I know what he means. He’s relying on me to use my fire to help save us. He’s even relying on Cassian, as injured as he is.

I nod, determined to do what I can with what I am. I’m not letting any of us go back to the enkros … or end up as a skin in some hunter’s living room. It’s not going to happen.

A twig snaps and we freeze. A bird trilling in a nearby tree suddenly stops, its song dying abruptly.

I hear nothing else. Suffocating silence. Too quiet.

My pulse jumps at my neck, rapid and fierce. I look left and right, panic closing in as I brace myself, expecting a hunter to jump out at me at any moment.

When it comes, the scream spills through me like a douse of acid. The sound shudders on the air and my skin flashes prickly hot with recognition. I’ve heard this scream before. Hear it in my darkest dreams where the past lives.

Cassian knows it, too. “Miram,” he cries, crashing ahead of us, no longer worried about making noise. There’s no point warning him to take care, to try to keep the element of surprise. Not when his sister is threatened.

I rush to catch up, my thoughts reeling, wondering what’s happening, what they’re doing to her.

Cassian pulls to a stop ahead, peering through branches as he fights for breath. We arrive behind him. He swings one arm up to keep us from taking a step farther and holds the other one close to his side.

Hunkering low, we watch through the foliage at the scene unfolding. My stomach sinks as if rocks weigh it down when I spot Miram, still in human form, backed up against a tree by a crowd of hunters, her eyes as wild as a cornered animal’s.

Cassian growls low in his throat. His rage consumes me, mingling with my fear and panic. Panic fed by the knowledge that her human disguise won’t protect her. He wants to break into the midst of them and tear them all apart, each and every one.

I eye the half dozen of them, armed to the teeth, and curl a hand around Cassian’s bicep, urging him to stay. His bicep flexes with tension under my fingers. The longing to harm, to destroy, pulses through him. I swallow back a wash of the angry emotion, trying to free myself of his dangerous feelings and inject him with some of my emotion … a steady dose of calm that will get him to focus and not do anything stupid.

I look back at Miram and wonder where the others are. My sister and Deghan. I don’t blame them for abandoning her, if that’s what happened. With a homing mechanism in Miram, it was inevitable the hunters would track her.

I’m just glad Tamra is somewhere safe. I know firsthand that Miram does not hold up well in high-risk situations. I’m rather shocked she hasn’t already manifested. As a visiocrypter, even when she manifests she stays the same nude color, so it’s not immediately clear when she begins to shift that she’s anything but human. And then I realize it’s happening now. I watch as her flesh flashes and shimmers, but she’s not totally lost yet.

They surround her like a pack of dogs—shouting at her, at each other, bewildered at the sight of her, a seemingly human girl, and trying to make sense of why they’ve been led to her when obviously they expected a draki.

It won’t take them long to figure it out.

“We don’t have much time,” I whisper. We have to do something before they realize who—what—they’ve got cornered. That they didn’t make a mistake.

The guy holding the little black box glares at it and shakes it like it might be broken. “It says we’re right on top of it.”

“It” again.

Buzz Cut grabs the device from his hands. “Let me see!” He advances on Miram and waves it over her, sweeping it above her head and down the length of her body. She flinches as if it’s a knife poised to stab her.

Even from where we crouch we can hear the beeping become one steady, unrelenting bleep. Buzz Cut lifts it back up to her head and the sound grows even louder.

“What the hell?” He pulls the box away and steps back from Miram, looking from her to the box several times. “It can’t be! She’s a girl!”

The hunters erupt all at once in heated conversation.

My body tenses, every muscle stretched tight, ready to spring into the fray. Because there’s no choice. I exchange a look with Cassian. Any moment now, they’re going to put it together. Unbelievable as it will seem to them, they’re about to uncover our greatest secret. Again, we’re about to be exposed.

Almost to confirm this, the beeping resumes, blaring loud and unremitting. I glance back to Miram and see that they’re holding the locating device over her again. Hovering it just above her head. She swats a hand at it and lets out a small mewl of fear.

“Look at her eyes,” the hunter with the sleek ponytail cries out.

Now they’re paying closer attention to her. Noticing all the little signs. Like the pupils of her eyes. Even from where I crouch, I can detect the change in them. The sharp vertical slits, shuddering with her terror.

“She’s one of them!”

“But she’s a girl!”

“Look at her! Look at her skin—she’s not. She’s a dragon.”