We approached the last house, slipping through a rotting privacy fence and across an overgrown yard, moving swiftly for the door. There was no time for regret. I had made my choice. Past friendships, memories, the camaraderie I’d always been a part of—none of that mattered. The Order would kill me and my companions if I didn’t do something now.

We reached the back entrance, a simple wooden door that was probably locked from the inside. There was no time to pick the lock, no time for a quiet entrance. I drove my foot into the door, aiming for the weak spot right beside the handle, and it flew open with a crash.

The interior of the house was dark and empty, littered with trash and cobwebs. The windows were boarded up, and the air was musty and stale. A flight of wooden steps sat against the wall on our left, leading to the second floor. No St. George soldiers in sight, but they would likely be upstairs.

I jerked my head at Ember and started up the staircase, muzzle of the gun leading the way. The steps opened into a small corridor with two bedrooms sitting across from each other, their doors partially open to show empty, gutted floors and walls. A flight of wooden attic stairs had been pulled down and sat open in the middle of the hall.

As I started toward it, gun drawn, a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye gave me just enough time to react. As a soldier stepped out of the adjacent bedroom with his gun raised, I spun and struck his wrist, making him drop the weapon. Immediately, he lunged, grabbed my weapon arm and slammed me into the opposite wall. He was bigger than me, stocky and broad shouldered, with a shaved head and small black eyes. I recognized his face, though I didn’t recall his name. A scar twisted one side of his lip down as he snarled and smashed my wrist into the frame behind me. Pain shot through my hand, and the pistol clattered to the floor.

“Fucking dragonlover,” he growled, and threw a hard right hook at my temple, thankfully letting go of my wrist. I managed to block, ducking and getting my arm up, though the blow still rocked my head to the side. I lashed out with my other fist, throwing a body shot below his unprotected ribs. He grunted and slammed me back, cracking my head against the plaster, then smashed a fist at my face. I threw out my arm, deflecting the blow to the side, and spun with the motion, using the momentum to smash him into the wall.