I bit my lip. He was right. Garret was in no condition to go running into yet another dangerous mission, but I also knew that we needed to find out what Talon was planning. “I... I’ll stay behind,” I told Riley. “I’ll keep an eye on Garret while you, Jade and Wes go see what Talon is up to.”

Riley snorted. “Very noble of you.”

“I would come with you, Riley, you know I would,” I said firmly. “I want to go, and I want to see for myself. But...” I started to rub my arms, then stopped myself. “I won’t leave him behind. Not alone. And we have to figure out what Talon is doing before they surprise us with their next horrible scheme. So, the three of you go ahead. I’ll stay here with Garret.”

“No, you won’t,” Wes sighed, shocking me again. “I will.” Riley turned to him, and he shrugged. “I can do just as much over the phone as in person,” he said in a reasonable voice, “and you’ll need someone watching the safe houses while you’re gone. Let’s face it, mate, she’s better in a fight, and if bugger all goes down, three dragons have a better chance of making it out alive than two dragons and a human. I’ll stay here, provide support and make sure St. George doesn’t bleed to death and the nests don’t explode. He’ll be safe with me—and don’t give me that look,” he added as Riley raised a brow at him. “The tosser is useful—I’m not too much of a bastard to admit it. If keeping him alive means he’ll kill more of St. George and Talon in the future, then by all means, I’ll give him whatever he needs.”

I smiled at his gruffness, seeing the flush that crept below his scruffy jawline. “Thanks, Wes.”

“Yes, thank you, Wesley,” Riley echoed in a mock sincere voice. “For dragging me into yet another insane scheme. I suppose if I refuse now, these two morons will go to this crash site without me.” He shook his head and raised a hand before I could protest. “Fine. Great. Into the jaws of death once more—must be a Tuesday. So, now that you mutineers have decided where we’re going next, why don’t you tell me how long it’s going to take to drive from Wyoming to Arkansas?”

Wes’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Um...about eighteen hours,” he confirmed, squinting at the screen. “If you drive straight through.”