Riley’s arms were around me, a shield between me and the rest of the world, a world that slaughtered teen dragons and nailed their hides to the wall. “You okay?” he whispered, his head bent close to mine. I wasn’t, but I nodded without looking up, and he blew out a breath. “Damn St. George,” he muttered, and his voice was slightly choked, too. “Murdering bastards. Damn them all.”

“I’m…okay,” I whispered, though I really, really wasn’t. It was like something out of a horror movie, seeing someone’s skin nailed to the killer’s wall. I wondered what they’d done with the rest of the dragon once they’d peeled its hide away, then immediately wished I hadn’t. “It’s all right,” I managed, drawing back, though his grip didn’t loosen. “Riley, I’m fine. It’s…”

A door squeaked somewhere in the mazelike hallway. We tensed as footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder every second. Riley jerked up with a whispered curse. As the steps drew closer, we gazed frantically around for a hiding place, but, other than the open door behind us, there was nothing.

Sorry, Firebrand, Riley mouthed, and yanked me into the room with the dead dragon. I bit my cheek, feeling tainted, as if the ghost of the murdered dragon lurked in the room with us, and I might glance up to see a pale, bloody figure watching accusingly from the wall.

Pressing into the corner beside the file cabinets, we held our breath as the footsteps came toward the room. I turned my face into Riley’s arm and clenched my jaw, trying not to look at the grisly symbol of death on the wall in front of us.

The footsteps passed the room without slowing down and continued down the corridor. Riley waited a long moment after they had faded away and silence fell once more, before finally leading us from the room. I kept my face down and my eyes half closed until we were out of the office, but I could still feel the dead dragon’s presence at my back.

“Damn St. George,” Riley hissed again, sounding almost as sick as I felt. “Depraved, murdering… Ugh. I’m sorry you had to see that, Firebrand.” He put a hand on my arm, steady and comforting. “Sure you want to keep going?” he asked. “It’s not too late to turn around. Do we keep looking for the human, or get the hell out of here?”