We left the casino floor, and ducked into a crowded restaurant with dim lighting and dozens of flat screens lining the walls, all playing sports of various kinds. Humans sat like pigeons along the bar or clustered around tables, laughing, talking and oblivious to the world around them. Griffin and I took a booth in the corner. A group of college-age guys sat behind us, but with all the noise and chaos, I wasn’t worried about eavesdroppers. The waitress took our drink orders and hurried off, leaving us in peace.

Griffin eyed me over the table. “So,” the human began, folding his hands together. “Here we are. What brings you to Vegas, Riley?”

I sighed. “What do you think?”

“Hmm. Well, considering all the hubbub around the city of late, I’m guessing nothing good. I assume you’re the reason St. George has moved in recently?” Griffin went on, making my stomach tighten. “Seems like they’re on the warpath, and mighty pissed about something. Word on the street is that Talon is not happy with the Order being in their territory and are scrambling over each other trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m thinking you poked a stick down a wasp nest and stirred it up a bit. Then kicked it for good measure.”

“You could say that.” I paused as the waitress returned with our drinks, then tossed the alcohol back, finishing the Scotch in two swallows. I didn’t drink very often; it was tough to get a dragon wasted, even one in human form, so I didn’t see much point in it. Tonight, though, I’d make an exception. Griffin drank his bourbon slowly, watching me over the glass rim, waiting for an explanation. I gave him a faint smirk. “Someone might have…snuck into their western chapterhouse and broken a prisoner out last week.”

“Holy shit, Riley.” The human lowered his glass with a look of disbelief and horror. “The Order chapterhouse itself? So, what you’re telling me is you’ve gone insane.”

“Very likely,” I muttered.

“One of your hatchlings?”

“No.” I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “One of them.”

He stared at me, then used both hands to point at himself. “Okay, see this face? This is my what-the-hell face. Seriously, Riley. What. The. Hell. You snuck into enemy territory, dropped a figurative wasp down their pants and then brought that mess here, so I have to deal with it? Are you out of your freaking mind? Why would you do such a thing?”

“It’s…complicated.” He continued to give me his what-the-hell expression, and I scowled. “Look, I don’t need you to understand or approve of what I did. What I need is to know why my safe houses keep disappearing, and how St. George suddenly knows exactly who I am and where I’ll be. If there’s a mole in the network, I want to know about it. And I need to find out what Talon is up to, where they are, if they know I’m here. Think you can grease a couple palms and dig up some dirt for me?”

“On Talon and the Order?” Griffin scratched his eyebrows. “Probably, but it could take some time. I’m going to have to be very, very careful about whom I talk to.”

“Please. I know the kind of people you work with. I don’t think you have to do too much greasing. If they need incentive, you know I’m good for it.”

He sniffed and sipped his drink. “Actually,” he mused, looking thoughtful, “there is this one thing that came up recently. Something I heard just this morning, in fact.”

I rubbed my eyes. “That didn’t take long.”

“Oh, trust me. You’ll want to hear this.” He paused as the waitress returned, asking if we needed anything else, and waved her off with a smile. “I don’t know how credible the story is,” he went on, “but my contacts seemed to think it’s legit. It’s actually quite amusing. Apparently, some poor bastard saw something in an abandoned hotel that freaked him out of his mind. A ‘fucking huge lizard’ I believe were his exact words.”

I straightened quickly. “A runaway hatchling?”

“They seemed to think so.” Griffin shrugged, swirling the ice in his glass. “I can’t do anything about it, of course, but this sounds like the type of thing you’d be interested in. Might be worth checking out.”

“Dammit.” I sighed, knowing I couldn’t ignore this. “Fine, send me the info. I’ll check it out when I can. It’s not like I have a million other things to do, like keeping Talon and St. George off our backs.” I glared at him over the table. “This place is still off their sights for the time being, right?”

“Of course, idiot. You think I’d be here if it wasn’t?” Griffin rose, tugging his suit jacket into place. “Give me a couple days,” he said. “I’ll see what I can find. And for God’s sake, don’t try to contact me until then. I’ll call you.”

I smirked. “Don’t keep me waiting too long. Wouldn’t want some cocky lizard sitting down at your table and ruining your perfect game, would we?”

“You’re a bastard, Riley.” Griffin gave me his most brilliant smile yet and turned to leave. “Thanks for the drink. Tell Wes I said hello.”

I paid for the drinks and wandered back upstairs, hoping nothing had exploded while I was gone. And that a certain stubborn redhead had stayed put, or at least out of trouble.

Apparently, that was too much to hope for.

As the elevator doors opened and I stepped into the hallway, I caught sight of Ember’s lean, slight form slipping across the hall and into the room on the other side.

Ember

Nice place. Too bad it was driving me nuts.

The room was too quiet, too empty and still despite the paintings of naked Greek people on the walls and the bust of some square-jawed guy staring at me from the corner. Now that we could finally slow down enough to breathe, there was nothing to keep me distracted, no life-threatening situations to divert my attention. I flipped on the television, just for the noise, but that didn’t stop all the images shifting around in my head. Memories I couldn’t shut out. Everything that had happened in the past two weeks flooded my brain in a rush, pounding against me like waves. I could see the red dragon hide hanging on the wall of the St. George office, a lifeless trophy that had once been a hatchling like me. I remembered the look in Garret’s eyes as he’d stared at me through the bars of his cell as if I were a ghost. The memory of his skin under my palm, his fingers curled gently around my wrist. The flight across the desert with him on my back, and that red-hot blaze of pain as the bullet had slammed into my body.