I shook my head. “No, I didn’t hear you. But I might’ve been in the bathroom.” Truth was, I hadn’t slept at all the night we’d arrived, and only a couple hours since. Not that I’d expected to. I’d been trained to survive on very little sleep, but more important, it was difficult to relax when there was a price on your head. And since the rogue dragon had all the weapons and I was currently unarmed, sleep was out of the question.

Ember looked at me expectantly, green eyes shining beneath her bangs. I sighed and took a step back. “Do you want to come in?”

She beamed and scurried across the threshold, gazing eagerly around as I closed the door and locked it out of habit. I heard a snort, imagined her shaking her head.

“Jeez, Garret. Two days, and your room doesn’t look like it’s been touched. Are you making your own hotel bed? You do know there’s a maid service here, right?”

I managed a tired smile as I turned around. “Where I come from,” I told her, “if they ever discovered you let an old lady clean up your mess, you’d never live it down.”

“Whatever. I’ll take any excuse not to clean my room.” She hopped onto one of the neatly made beds, rumpling it nicely. “If I can see my floor through all the clothes, I consider that a win. Besides, didn’t you know, Garret? A messy room is a sign of genius.”

“I’ve never been inside your house,” I reminded her in a grave voice, “but if that’s true, I have the feeling I’m talking with the smartest person on the planet.”

She reached back and threw a pillow at me. I dodged, hearing her laughter ripple up, wicked and bright and cheerful. A strange lightness filled my chest, and I found myself smiling, too. Snatching the pillow from the floor, I prepared to hurl it back.

And caught myself, a cold chill driving away the amusement.

Too easy, I realized. Too easy to relax around her, to slip back into that role I’d adopted over the summer. A normal civilian, unguarded and carefree. Which was extremely dangerous, because this situation was anything but normal. I could not afford to drop my guard, even for her. Perhaps she’d come here to escape, to forget the reality of our situation. Maybe she wanted to pretend everything was normal for a while. But I couldn’t be that person she wanted, that ordinary boy from Crescent Beach. I was a soldier of St. George; I’d killed too many, hunted her kind with the sole intention of driving them to extinction. My hands were stained with the blood of countless dragons. No matter what my feelings, I could never escape that.