“About time you showed up.” Wes slammed the door and threw the locks as if we were in a superspy movie and there could be enemy agents lurking outside, hiding in the cactus. “I thought you’d be here hours ago. What happened?”

“Had to make a quick stop in L.A. for a few things,” Riley answered, brushing by him. He did not mention the “things” in question, namely, a duffel bag full of ammo and firearms. Both he and Wes ignored me, so I turned to gaze around the room. A quick glance was all that was required; it was small, rumpled, unremarkable, with an unmade bed against the wall and soda cans scattered everywhere. A laptop sat open and glowing on the corner desk, nonsensical words and formulas splayed across the screen in neat rows.

“Riley…” Wes began, a note of warning in his voice.

“Where are the hatchlings?” Riley asked, overriding whatever he was going to say. “Are they all right? Did you find the safe house?”

“They’re fine,” Wes answered, sounding impatient. “They’re holed up near San Francisco with that Walter chap, with strict instructions not to poke one scale out of the house until they hear from you. They’re bloody peachy. We’re the ones we have to worry about now.”

“Good.” Riley nodded briskly and walked across the room to the desk, then bent down to the screen. “I assume this is it, then?” he muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Where we’ll be going tonight? Did you get everything you needed?”

“Riley.” Wes stalked after him. “Did you hear a word I just told you, mate? Do you know how crazy this is? Are you even listening to me?” The other ignored him, and with a scowl, Wes reached across the desk and slapped the laptop shut.

Riley straightened and turned to glare at the human. In the shadows, his eyes suddenly glowed a dangerous yellow, and the air went tight with the soundless, churning energy that came right before a Shift. Riley’s true form hovered close to the surface, staring out at the human with angry gold eyes.

To his credit, Wes didn’t back down.