We pulled up to one of the pumps, and Wes leaped out and slammed the door behind him, leaving the keys in the ignition. I scanned the station warily, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary; families wandering back to their cars, a couple large trucks sitting off to the side. No soldiers, black SUVs or anything that belonged to the Order. So far, so good.

Wes wrenched the pump off the handle, shoved it into the tank to start the flow of gas, then went hurrying into the store. I scanned the area once more before glancing at the two dragons behind me.

“You’re not part of Talon,” I confirmed, as Riley smoothed the canvas over Ember, covering the exposed parts as best he could. It was a strange concept. All dragons, we were told, belonged to Talon, the huge dragon organization that spanned the globe. Banded together, working together, to overthrow mankind. I’d never thought there could be discontents.

But then, I’d never thought I could befriend a dragon, either. Or that she would risk her life to save mine.

Riley, tugging a corner over Ember’s front claws, gave a snort.

“No.”

I waited, but he didn’t offer any further explanation. But there was something there, an undercurrent of disgust that wasn’t pointed entirely at me, but at Talon. Curiosity prickled. And guilt. Here was one more fact about dragons that the Order had gotten wrong. This dragon wasn’t part of the organization; in fact, he seemed to despise it. How gravely was the Order mistaken when it came to our ancient enemies? And how many lives had I taken, because I believed we were doing the right thing?

“If you’re not part of Talon,” I ventured, “who are you with?”

“Myself.” Again that clipped, brusque reply. Somehow, it didn’t surprise me.

Something chirped close by, startling us both. Riley reached back and pulled out his phone, staring at the screen. His expression screwed up with disgust.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Wes. Really?” He stuck the phone in his back pocket, shaking his head. “You and your damn nervous stomach. Perfect timing as always.”

He straightened and peered out the window, scanning the surroundings just as I had a moment ago. I recognized that wariness, that caution for traps and enemies and hidden dangers. He had been a soldier, once. Or some kind of operative. We were parked at one of the farthest pumps, and no one was close by, but he still scanned the area for a good twenty seconds before glancing at me.

“I’m going inside.” His glare was hard, his face taut with suspicion. “We’ll need a few things if we’re going to be holed up for a while, and my idiot partner is out of commission. I’ll only be gone a minute, but…” His gaze flicked to the large canvas lump beside him, the tail and claws poking out from beneath. “Can I trust you with her, St. George?”

I met his glare, keeping my voice steady. “Yes.”

His lips tightened like he’d swallowed something foul, but he didn’t say anything as he made his way to the front door. Snatching the keys from the ignition, he slipped out of the van and slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone with an unconscious dragon in the backseat.

Silence descended, throbbing in my ears, broken only by Ember’s slow, labored breaths beneath the tarp. I turned in my seat to look at her fully. The canvas hid most of her body, but her feet, ending in hooked black talons, stuck out of the bottom, as did the long, spade-tipped tail. I could see the points of her horns and wings, the curve of her neck, the very tip of her muzzle peeking from the edge of the cloth. She twisted and curled a lip in her sleep, revealing a flash of very long, very sharp fangs, and a cold knot formed in my stomach.

Ember… This was the real form of the girl I’d met in Crescent Beach. I’d seen her like this before, but only in passing. When we were battling one another, soldier to dragon, each of us fighting for our lives. And later, when I was urging her to run before my team showed up to kill them all. I’d seen her real form then, but it was a fleeting awareness, buried in the urgency of the moment. I’d been too distracted to give it much thought.

Now, though, it was staring me in the face, impossible to ignore. Ember was a dragon. A huge lizard, with scales and wings and claws and a tail. All my memories from Crescent Beach, from the summer that had disappeared too quickly, were of the girl. Surfing with her. Slow dancing at a party. Kissing her in the ocean, feeling my blood sizzle and my breath catch. The green-eyed girl with an infectious smile and a fierce love for life. But Ember wasn’t a girl. Ember wasn’t human. Ember was…this.

A car pulled off the highway and cruised to a stop at the pump next to ours. The doors opened, and a family of four piled out, making me tense. But after a short squabble between two small boys and their mother, she managed to herd them toward the mini-mart. The father remained behind long enough to fill the tank and make me nervous, before he finally meandered into the store. I drummed my fingers on the armrest, wondering where Riley and Wes were.

A scraping sound jerked my attention to the back. The canvas lump was moving, shifting from side to side with confused growls. Ember tossed her head, flinging the cloth away and exposing a bright red dragon to the open air. She tried staggering upright, but lurched to one side and collapsed against the door with a loud thump, making the vehicle rock. Her tail lashed the sides of the van with metallic clanking sounds as she growled and clawed herself up again, the sunlight gleaming along her metallic crimson scales.

“Ember.” Swiftly, I moved to the back, barely dodging a wingtip as it flapped against the wall. “Hey, stop. Calm down.” Her head whipped toward me, and I instinctively threw up my hand, catching a horn as it smacked into my palm. “Stop!”

She froze at my touch, and I was suddenly holding the head of a groggy red dragon, her muzzle right at eye level. Her fangs gleamed as she stared at me, nostrils flaring, and for a second, I felt a jolt of fear, realizing how close she was. If she lunged or snapped or spit fire at me, I’d catch it right in the face.

Quickly, I released her. She didn’t pull away but continued to stare at me, a puzzled expression in her reptilian green eyes.

“Garret?”

My muscles unclenched at the sound of her voice. It was weak, confused and in pain, but it was her voice, Ember’s voice. Though I didn’t know what I’d expected. Those slitted eyes blinked again before she sagged weakly, struggling to stay upright. “Where am I?” she asked, her words slurred. “What’s going on?”