A car pulled off the highway and cruised to a stop at the pump next to ours. The doors opened, and a family of four piled out, making me tense. But after a short squabble between two small boys and their mother, she managed to herd them toward the mini-mart. The father remained behind long enough to fill the tank and make me nervous, before he finally meandered into the store. I drummed my fingers on the armrest, wondering where Riley and Wes were.

A scraping sound jerked my attention to the back. The canvas lump was moving, shifting from side to side with confused growls. Ember tossed her head, flinging the cloth away and exposing a bright red dragon to the open air. She tried staggering upright, but lurched to one side and collapsed against the door with a loud thump, making the vehicle rock. Her tail lashed the sides of the van with metallic clanking sounds as she growled and clawed herself up again, the sunlight gleaming along her metallic crimson scales.

“Ember.” Swiftly, I moved to the back, barely dodging a wingtip as it flapped against the wall. “Hey, stop. Calm down.” Her head whipped toward me, and I instinctively threw up my hand, catching a horn as it smacked into my palm. “Stop!”

She froze at my touch, and I was suddenly holding the head of a groggy red dragon, her muzzle right at eye level. Her fangs gleamed as she stared at me, nostrils flaring, and for a second, I felt a jolt of fear, realizing how close she was. If she lunged or snapped or spit fire at me, I’d catch it right in the face.

Quickly, I released her. She didn’t pull away but continued to stare at me, a puzzled expression in her reptilian green eyes.

“Garret?”

My muscles unclenched at the sound of her voice. It was weak, confused and in pain, but it was her voice, Ember’s voice. Though I didn’t know what I’d expected. Those slitted eyes blinked again before she sagged weakly, struggling to stay upright. “Where am I?” she asked, her words slurred. “What’s going on?”

I took a careful breath. “You need to lie down,” I told her gently. She stumbled and fell against the side, and I winced as the van rattled. “Ember, look at me.” I reached out, catching one of her horns again, forcing her attention back to me. “You have to relax,” I said as she looked up, her eyes now bright with pain and fear. Her jaws parted as she panted, showing rows of deadly fangs, and I resisted the urge to yank my hand back. “We’re out in the open, and you can’t be seen right now. Please. Lie down.”

She stared at me a moment, and I forced myself to breathe calmly. This had to be one of the most surreal moments of my life: pleading with a near-delirious dragon to lie still so that we wouldn’t be discovered. With the exception of the flight from the base, I’d never been so close to a live dragon, not for this length of time. Never close enough to feel its breath, smelling of heat and smoke. Or the bony ridges of its horns under my palm. In the past, if a dragon had been near enough to touch, it was either dead or I was fighting for my life, trying to make it so.

A tremor went through the dragon in front of me and, to my relief, she sank down again, her head touching the floor with a muffled groan. Her wings fluttered once and her tail thumped the side of the van, before her eyes closed and she went limp, asleep once more. I let out a short breath, glancing out the side window, and froze.

A boy of maybe five stood a few feet from the van, clutching a fountain drink in both hands, his eyes huge as they stared at me. I gazed back, guessing that he’d seen everything, unsure of what to do, as his parents walked around the car, his mother reaching for his arm.

“Jason, come on. What are you looking at?”

The boy pointed. “The dragon.”

“A dragon?” Her gaze rose, a puzzled look crossing her face as she spotted me. Heart pounding, I offered a feeble smile and a helpless shrug, and the woman frowned.

“Okay, that’s nice, dear. Come on, Daddy’s waiting.” Taking the boy’s wrist, she quickly steered him toward the car, and I started breathing again. As they piled into the car, the little boy’s face peered through the window at me, eyes huge and staring, until the car pulled onto the highway and sped off toward the horizon.

Riley and Wes came out of the store, each carrying a couple plastic bags, and hurried toward the van. I pulled the canvas over Ember again, gently covering her head and body as much as I could, before slipping quietly into the front seat.

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!”