“You might,” I told her. “I don’t think I will.”

She cocked her head, regarding me with curious dragon eyes. “Why not?”

“Because soldiers of St. George don’t live very long.” I gazed at the bodies of the men surrounding us. “Even if they’re on the other side.”

She straightened, wings fluttering, as she realized what I meant. “Garret...”

With a metallic screech of claws, Riley leaped off the truck and padded toward us, stepping carefully over bodies and abandoned firearms. His stance wasn’t overly hostile as he approached, but it was concerned. Maybe slightly protective, the way his eyes flickered between Ember and me, and the way his nostrils flared, like he was sucking in the breath for a gout of flame.

With a start, I realized how wrong I’d been before. Reading dragon body language, and the nuanced ways they showed emotion or state of mind, was fairly easy. It wasn’t that different from discerning human body language, really, once you knew what to look for. Or maybe I was just getting better at it. Back in the Order, we’d studied our foes in battle extensively, learning the subtle shifts that told us when they were going to attack, retreat, fly away and—probably the most important—breathe fire. But no one took it further than that, because dragons weren’t supposed to show real emotion. Stay with them for any length of time, however, and the emotions became clear as day. Was I the only member of St. George to notice this? Was the Order so blind that they just didn’t see it, or was their ignorance deliberate, because it was easier to accept they were slaughtering monsters and not people?

“We should get out of the open,” Riley said as he trotted up. And, I couldn’t be certain, but I thought I saw Ember flinch as the blue dragon joined us. “I don’t feel comfortable standing here where a random human could see us.” He glanced at the sprawl of corpses, and curled a lip. “Any idea how long we have before the Order shows up again, St. George?”

“Not long,” I said wearily. “Someone probably radioed headquarters as soon as the attack hit. They’ll piece together what happened and be back with even more numbers, maybe as soon as tomorrow. We’ll need to leave ASAP, and the monks need to get out of here, too. If we can convince them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Riley shook his head with a grimace. “Hopefully our Asian friend can persuade them to run and not sit there getting shot full of holes.” With a snort, he nodded to me and stepped away. “Let’s go, Firebrand. We should head back, find Wes and the others, and get them ready to move out.”

“You two go ahead. I’ll clean up here.” The two dragons paused, and I gestured at the trucks and the sprawl of bodies in the road. “I need to hide the bodies and the trucks in case a civilian comes by and sees this. If the bodies are discovered, law enforcement will be all over the place.”

“We don’t have time to bury them, St. George,” Riley said impatiently. “We need to move. The Order could be breathing down our necks in a few hours.”

“I’m not burying them.” I set the M4 aside and moved toward one of the soldiers, lying on his back and staring vacantly at the sky. “I’m putting them in the trucks and driving the trucks to the monastery. They don’t have to be hidden well, or for long.” My voice sounded strangely flat and methodical as I gazed down at the soldier and saw a familiar face gazing back. Not Tristan, thank God, but someone I knew. Someone I recognized. I ignored the sickness in my gut and bent to grab his wrist. “Once St. George discovers the strike failed, after they search the area for dragons, they’ll send a team to make all this disappear. The Order doesn’t like attention any more than Talon.”

The dragons were silent as I heaved the body over my shoulder, setting my jaw as it flopped limply. I felt them watching as I walked to the back of a truck and laid him gently on his back. His head rolled to the side, staring at me accusingly, a soldier just a couple years older than me. I let out a tired sigh.

“I’m sorry, Edwin,” I muttered, and closed his eyes.

“Did you know him?” asked a voice at my back. I looked over my shoulder to see Ember, back in human form and wearing her Viper suit, peering in at me from the edge of the truck. Her irises still glowed green in the shadows as she hopped lightly into the bed. “Did you know any of them?”

“Yes,” I answered simply. “A few of them are from other barracks but...” I looked back at the body, remembering a monastery far from here, the stern-eyed monks in brown robes, the faces of my fellow recruits. “His name was Edwin James,” I murmured. “I went through basic training with him.”