A moment later, Wes wrenched open the front door, tossed a couple grocery bags into my lap and moved aside to let Riley in. The other dragon climbed into the back through the front seats, not wanting to open the side door and risk exposing Ember to the world, I guessed. But he paused, his gaze flickering over the sleeping dragon and the obviously disturbed tarp, before shifting to me.

“Problems, St. George?” he asked, his voice suspicious. I shook my head.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

He continued to glare at me, but at that moment, Ember flapped a wing in her sleep, throwing back the canvas again. A line of red spattered the window, making my insides curl. Riley muttered a curse.

“She’s bleeding again,” he growled, kneeling swiftly at her side. “Wes, grab the first-aid kit—she can’t afford to lose any more blood. St. George, get us out of here.”

I waited until Wes slid into the back with Riley, then moved to the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. “Where am I going?” I asked as the van roared to life.

“Vegas” was the snapped reply. “It’s not far, and I have a place we can hole up for a few days.” Ember twitched, kicking a back leg against the wall, and Wes let out a yelp. Riley cursed. “I’ll give you directions when we get close, but right now, just drive!”

Throwing the van into gear, I pulled onto the highway, passed a dusty sign that read Las Vegas 64 Miles and sped off into the sun.

Dante

Dante

“Mr. Hill. Do you have a moment?”

I looked up from my desk. Mist stood in the doorway, manila folder in hand, looking poised and calm and expectant at the same time. Her silver hair was pulled into a ponytail today, and it made her look younger, not quite so severe. It was hard to believe Mist was my age; she acted so composed and mature, I wondered if she’d had a normal upbringing. Or whatever was considered normal for us, anyway.

I sighed and put down my pen, where I’d been scribbling notes on a yellow sheet of paper. “Mist,” I said, smiling as I beckoned her into the office. “How many times have I asked you to call me Dante?”

“Counting today, exactly five times.” As always, there was a subtle note of challenge beneath the polite tone. “And I predict you will ask me at least twice more in the future. But that is irrelevant at this point.” She stepped back into the hall, looking suddenly anxious. “If you would come with me, Mr. Hill, I think you should see this.”

* * *