A tiny chuckle escaped him then, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Point taken,” he murmured, the hint of a smile finally crossing his face. “Would you like the groveling done now or later?”

“Oh, later. Definitely later. When I can get comfortable and enjoy it for a few hours.”

“Hours, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.” He shook his head, meeting my gaze. “Thank you for coming after me,” he said, quite serious now. “You didn’t have to, but I’m grateful you did. I wasn’t…quite as ready to die as I thought.”

I nodded. The haunted look had not quite left him, but it was a start. At least he was talking to me like a normal person again and not walking on eggshells around “the dragon.” For now, it was enough. “So, where is everyone?” I asked, gazing around. Garret nodded out the door.

“Riley was sleeping in his room, last I saw” was the answer. “Wes left a few minutes ago for supplies. The three of us have been taking watch in turns since we got here. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up before we decide where to go next.”

“Where are we, anyway?”

“Vegas,” replied a new voice from the door.

I craned my neck around to look back. Riley stood in the frame, his gold eyes intense as they met mine. He wore ripped jeans and a black T-shirt, and looked strange without his ever-present jacket. His dark hair was mussed and shaggy, his clothes rumpled. Half circles crouched beneath his lids, as if he hadn’t slept in a while.

I forced a weak grin, even as my senses flared to life, sending heat through my veins. “Hey, you. I’m up.”

“Dammit, Ember.” Riley entered into the room and, without hesitation, strode to my side. Garret drew back, melting into the corner as the other drew close. Riley’s hand came to rest on my neck, a searing spot of warmth even through my scales. “Are you all right?” he asked, his gaze flicking to my ribs, where the bullet had pierced through. “Why didn’t you tell me you were awake?”

“It was on my to-do list.”

He pressed his forehead to mine, skin to scales. “Don’t scare me like that, Firebrand,” he whispered, as my stomach danced and my wings fluttered restlessly. “If you had died, I don’t know what I’d have done, but it would probably involve eating that St. George bastard over there.”

“That’s not very reasonable,” I whispered back, knowing that Garret could hear us, and Riley probably didn’t care if he did. “Then all our scheming against St. George would’ve been for nothing.”

He snorted and drew back, rolling his eyes. “Have you eaten yet?” he muttered, an exasperated smile crossing his face. “You were out for three days. I imagine you’re probably starving right now.”