She grabbed the second needle from where it lay on the table, turned and plunged it into my neck. I jerked, clenching my jaw as my fingers fumbled further with the cuff of my sleeve and the thing I was trying to get at slid away. Mist injected the syringe’s contents into my veins and stepped back, replacing the needle on the table.

“What was that?” I growled.

“Sodium thiopental,” Mist said, wiping her hands on the towel. “Only, this is a special version, produced in Talon labs, specifically for our kind. Our scientists have been mixing science and magic to great effect lately. It’s still in its experimentation phase, but the results have been very encouraging.”

Sodium thiopental. Truth serum. Dammit. As a rule, dragons were fairly resistant to modern drugs and their effects. Much like alcohol, the amount required to get any kind of reaction from a dragon would kill a normal man. But we weren’t immune. Pump us full of enough shit, and we’d feel the effects, same as a human. “You’re very forthcoming suddenly,” I said, renewing my efforts with my sleeve cuff. Where was that stupid slit? I had to find it again before I got too loopy to do anything. “Sure you’re not the one who got stuck with the needle?”

Mist regarded me with a practiced blank expression. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that fighting is useless,” she said, “and it would be better in the long run to give me the answers quickly. Holding out is only going to make it worse. I was going to interrogate you the old-fashioned way, but I suspect you have a fairly high pain threshold, and Talon wants the information as soon as possible. We’ll give that a few minutes to work, and then we’ll see how you feel about cooperating.”

“I didn’t think Vipers did this sort of thing,” I said, buying time as Mist leaned back, regarding me blankly. “Isn’t your shtick more murder and assassination? Is Lilith finally deciding to branch out?”

Mist paused, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips, turning my insides cold. “What makes you think I’m a Viper?” she asked. “I was trained to be a Basilisk, just like you. Don’t worry, though,” she went on, and settled back against the table, crossing her arms. “I’m not the only agent Talon sent. The Viper should be finishing up shortly.”

Ember

Ember

“Drop your weapons.”

The human’s voice echoed in the empty space, low and commanding. I tensed, eyeing the men surrounding us. Not soldiers of St. George; they wore black business suits and no armor, looking more like bodyguards or FBI agents than military people. Their guns, however, were all too real, pointed unerringly at me and Garret. My heart seized with the realization.

Not St. George. Talon.

The man holding Faith cocked the hammer of his weapon and shoved it harder against her temple, making her gasp. “I won’t ask again,” he warned. “Put your weapons on the ground and your hands on your head. Now.”