Was that why he’d hesitated that night on the cliff? When he’d pointed that gun at my head, and I’d finally realized what he really was? When he’d ceased to be Garret and became the enemy, a soldier of St. George?

He could’ve killed me. I’d been in my human form, taken off guard, and had been too stunned to do anything at first. He’d had me at point-blank range, alone and trapped on a bluff miles from anywhere. All he’d had to do was pull the trigger.

But he hadn’t. And later, he’d betrayed his own people to save me and Riley from Lilith, my sadistic trainer and Talon’s best Viper assassin. Lilith had come for Riley that night, and when I’d refused to leave him and return to Talon, she’d tried to kill me, too. She’d nearly succeeded. We’d survived only because of Garret’s unexpected arrival and his help in driving off the Viper. Otherwise, Lilith would’ve torn us apart.

But, by helping us, Garret had damned himself. To aid a dragon was treason in the eyes of his Order, and the punishment for such betrayal was death. He’d told me that himself. Garret had known the Order would kill him, and he’d still chosen to save us.

Why?

I’d tried to follow him that night, hoping to somehow get him away from the soldiers who were now his captors. But there had been no opportunity for a rescue, and Riley had finally convinced me that falling back and planning our next move was the best option. So here we were.

I turned on the sink and splashed cold water on my face, washing away the dust and grime. When that was done, I attempted to tame the snarled bird’s nest atop my head, wincing as I ran my fingers through the knots and tangles, finally combing them out. I had a brush in my backpack, along with a change of clothes and other essentials, but primping seemed like a giant waste of time right now. Besides, who was around that I wanted to impress? Wes hated me, and Riley… Riley was interested in my other half.

My dragon perked at this, sending a curl of warmth through my stomach, and I squashed it, and her, down. I didn’t know what I was going to do about Riley, but there were other things to focus on. Hopefully, Riley and Wes had come up with a brilliant plan, because other than knowing I couldn’t leave Garret with St. George, I didn’t have a clue what to do.

When I came out of the bathroom, Riley and Wes were bent over the laptop, talking in the same low, urgent tones. Riley glanced up, and our eyes met once more, making my skin flush. Then Wes snapped his name, and he turned his attention to the computer again.

Edging up behind them, I peered over Riley’s shoulder at what looked like an aerial map on the screen. The surrounding area seemed barren—desert and dust and flat, open ground—but in the very center of the map sat a cluster of small buildings. No roads led to it; no other buildings or landmarks stood nearby.

“Is that where Garret is?” I asked softly. Wes shot me a dirty look. “That,” he stated, narrowing his eyes, “is St. George’s western chapterhouse, and it took me a bloody long time to find it, thank you very much. It’s not like the Order advertises where they are—technically those buildings don’t exist on any map or sightseeing brochure. But yes, the bastards that tried to kill us in California have likely returned there, your murderous boyfriend included.” He snorted and turned away, and I resisted the urge to slap the back of his head.

“I had no idea it was so close,” Riley muttered, staring intently at the screen, his face grim. “Right on the Arizona/Utah line. I’m going to have to relocate a couple safe houses farther east.”

“There’s nowhere completely safe, mate,” Wes said quietly, slumping back in his chair. “Not since they caught on that Talon moved a lot of its business to the States. They’re bloody everywhere now.”

“Where were they before?” I asked.

“England,” Riley answered without looking at me. “St. George’s main headquarters is in London, where it’s been for hundreds of years. They’re very traditional, and they don’t like change, so it took them a while to spread out. That’s why Talon does a lot of business in the US and other countries—the Order doesn’t have such a strong presence here. Or it didn’t for a long time.” He leaned over the laptop. “This is a fairly new base,” he stated, staring at the tiny white squares on the screen. “It wasn’t here ten years ago.” One finger rose to trace the perimeter, his face shadowed in thought. “There’s the fence, and that’s probably the armory, barracks and mess hall, officer housing…so this big one has to be headquarters.” He tapped the screen, tightening his jaw. “That’s where he’ll probably be.”

“Bloody fabulous,” Wes muttered. “The most heavily guarded building of them all. Tell me again why we’re doing this? If it was a hatchling we were all getting ourselves killed for, I’d understand. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d understand. That’s more your type of loony.” He continued to glower at Riley and ignore me, as if I wasn’t standing not three feet away. Well within singeing distance, I thought. “Even if we do get this blighter out, what makes you think he won’t run straight back to St. George to tell them where we are? Or shoot us in the back himself?”

“He won’t,” I snapped, glaring at Wes. “I know Garret. He’s not like that.”

Wes turned a disgusted sneer in my direction. “Really?” he drawled. “Then answer me this, if you know the blighter so very well—how long did it take you to figure out he was part of St. George?”