“Look at me,” I whispered. He didn’t move, and I hardened my voice. “Look at me, Garret. I want to see your face when I do this. Open your eyes.”

For a heartbeat, the soldier remained motionless. For an agonizing moment, I thought he would refuse. But then he opened his eyes and his dark, tormented gaze met mine. I stared into those gray eyes and mouthed a single phrase, hoping he would understand.

Trust me.

He blinked…and I opened my fingers, dropping the weapon at my feet.

The second the gun left my hands, I Shifted, exploding into dragon form with a roar, my wings snapping behind me as I reared onto my hind legs. The Talon agents instantly raised their weapons, sighting down the much bigger threat, but I sucked in a breath and blasted them with fire, sending two of them reeling back. Still, I couldn’t catch all of them, and the chatter of assault rifle fire echoed through the room. Bullets whizzed by me, sparking off my horns and chest plates, and at least two punched through my wing membranes, making me shriek with pain.

A gun barked and two men fell. Garret had lunged forward, snatched the fallen pistol and fired with deadly accuracy into the line of Talon agents. The rest of them scattered, diving behind cover, as Garret leaped upright, still firing his weapon, and I tensed to attack.

Something slammed into me from the side, knocking me away from Garret and sending me tumbling across the floor. I caught myself, looking up just in time to see a lithe dragon, its scales a dark indigo, lunge at me with the speed of a cobra. I managed to scramble back, and Garret raised his gun to shoot it, but a hailstorm of bullets caused him to duck behind a stack of crates, hunkering down as the shots tore into the wood and peppered the wall behind him.

Ignoring the preoccupied soldier, the purple dragon turned to me, eyes gleaming yellow in the dim light. She was a little smaller than I was, with an elegant tapered head and a long, graceful neck and tail. Her scales were so dark they were nearly black, her chest and belly plates a lighter indigo, as were the wing membranes. A mane of curved black spines ran down her back from a narrow, hornless skull as she raised her head and hissed a challenge, needlelike fangs flashing viciously in my direction.

“Come on then, Viper,” she called, raising her voice to be heard over the cacophony of shouts and gunfire around us. “Let’s see who’s the better student. Just you and me, no friends, no interference.” She half spread her wings, giving me an evil smile. “Of course, if you want to know about your brother, you’ll have to beat me first.”

She launched herself into the air, soaring over my head, to land somewhere in the maze behind us. I tensed to spring after her but paused, looking back at Garret. He was still crouched behind the stack of crates, pistol in hand, bursts of gunfire tearing splinters from the barrier in front of him. Our gazes met across the room.

“Garret—”

“Go,” he called, motioning with his free hand. “I’ll cover you, and I’ll catch up when I’m done. Go!”

He turned, firing twice at a cluster of pallets. There was a cry, and a Talon agent fell into the open, his gun clattering to the cement. I winced, then spun and bounded into the maze.

Riley

Mist hit me hard, side-kicking me in the ribs just as I reached the table, knocking me back. Grunting, I staggered, and she followed with a nasty roundhouse kick to the temple that, had it connected, might’ve knocked my lights out. But she’d taken the bait, left herself open, and I caught the foot as it came in, spinning and throwing her into the corner. She crashed into the wall and slumped to the floor, dazed, though not for long. I snatched the syringe and bolted out the door.

Bursting through the frame, I hit the railing of a flight of stairs and stared into the dark, open expanse of a warehouse, aisles of containers and crates spread out below. Of course, it was the perfect place to stage this little encounter. Silent, empty and isolated—no one around to see an interrogation, a murder or a huge mythological creature chasing someone through the aisles.

Speaking of which…

There was a low growl behind me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I leaped over the railing, dropped the eight or so feet to the ground and sprinted behind a stack of crates as the door burst open and the roar of a pissed-off dragon echoed through the room. Ducking into the nearest aisle, I pressed back into a corner and tried to Shift, hoping that the tranquilizer had worn off.

Nope. Couldn’t do it. My body stayed locked in human form, the dragon barely responding. Cursing, I looked around frantically, searching for anything that would help me even out this fight. Crates, containers, random boxes. Unless I found a hidden stash of guns, or maybe a couple grenades, this was going to go poorly for me.

My hand throbbed, and I clenched my fist, gritting my teeth. Thank God Mist hadn’t removed my jacket before the interrogation; she might’ve discovered a few other precautions hidden within the lining, as well. A lifetime of close calls had taught me to be ready for anything: capture, imprisonment, being abandoned behind enemy lines. I’d learned to rely on myself and to always have a backup plan. Case in point: having to cut myself free with the razor blade hidden in my jacket cuff. The thin lacerations across my wrists were shallow and would heal quickly, but they still stung like the world’s most obnoxious paper cut.

A large, ghostly shadow soared overhead, landing atop a nearby crate, and I froze. In her true form, Mist was as slender and poised as her human counterpart, her scales a glittering blue-white, her ivory horns curling back from her skull. Sinking to her haunches, the pale dragon folded her wings, curled a long, diamond-tipped tail around herself and peered into the darkness with slitted blue eyes.