“The only way to break this alliance,” the soldier continued, his voice reluctant, “is to expose the Patriarch to the rest of St. George. The rest of the Order doesn’t know about his involvement with Talon. If they did, it would be seen as a massive betrayal. He would be stripped of his rank, imprisoned and probably executed for high treason. Not even the Patriarch is exempt from the Code of St. George.”

“And the alliance would be done for,” I finished. “Talon would lose whatever leverage they have on the Patriarch, and all these strikes where they’ve been able to sic the Order on us would come to an end.”

Everyone fell silent, thinking. St. George’s expression was dark. He knew we had to break up this partnership, that having Talon in control of the Order was possibly the worst thing that could happen to them, but exposing the Patriarch wasn’t sitting well, apparently.

Strangely enough, I could understand that. Even though Talon had been using me for years, it had still been hard to walk away, to start fighting the very organization I’d been a part of for so long. I’d been a lone operative who didn’t rely on anyone but myself to get the job done, but the soldier had been part of a team; these were men he’d once fought beside. It must suck, I thought, realizing that your leader, the person who was supposed to be the example of everything you stood for, had been so thoroughly corrupted.

Huh. And when did I start sympathizing with St. George?

Finally, the Asian dragon looked up, her voice still as cool as ever. “Then we know what must be done,” she stated quietly. “Now, the question is—how are we going to accomplish it?”

St. George stirred from his corner. “We’re going to need proof that the Patriarch is working with Talon,” he replied, turning businesslike again. “The Order isn’t going to listen to any of us, unless we have hard evidence that shows he’s directly involved with the organization. At the meeting, the agent mentioned certain documents that would be damning if they ever came to light. Riley...” His gaze went to me. “You were once a spy for Talon. Do you know where Talon would be keeping that kind of blackmail, and how we could access it?”

I sighed. “Oh, yeah,” I said, nodding. “I know where it’ll be kept. There’s only one place Talon will keep something that important. It’ll be in the Vault.”

“The vault?” Ember echoed. “What, you mean like a giant bank safe?

“Kinda, Firebrand. Except maybe a thousand times bigger. Remember, Talon has been at this a long time. They have enough dirt, blackmail and dirty laundry to make the NSA green with envy. They were around long before computers and electronic storage became the normal thing, so a lot of their evidence was, and still is, physical. They’re kind of old-fashioned that way. All of their important documents are stored in the Vault. If we want proof that the Patriarch is working with Talon, we’re going to have to break in and steal it. And trust me when I say a bank robbery would be easier.”

“Have you been to this Vault before?” Jade asked quietly. “Do you know what to expect?”

I gave a bitter chuckle. “I was a Basilisk. Collecting dirt and blackmail was sort of my job, when I wasn’t blowing up buildings.” The Asian dragon’s brows pulled together in a slight frown; she probably wasn’t familiar with that term and what it entailed. Or, maybe she knew exactly what a Basilisk was and what I used to do. “I saw the Vault a couple times,” I went on, determined not to care what an Eastern dragon thought of me and my role with the organization. “Continuing Talon’s theme of hiding in plain sight, it’s underneath this big old library in the middle of Chicago.”

“A library?” St. George sounded surprised.

I nodded. “Yeah. Like I said, hidden in plain sight. On the outside, this place is pretty ancient. The librarians still use a card catalog to find the title you’re looking for.”

“What’s a—”

“Never mind, Firebrand. It’s not important.” I shook my head, grinning. “Believe it or not, there was a time when we didn’t have computers or smartphones, and we had to look things up in these primitive things called books.”

She raised her head, and I thought she was going to snap something in return, maybe a comment along the lines of my age and maturity level. But then her eyes clouded, and she dropped her gaze, a brief tormented look crossing her face.

My blood boiled. What had the Asian dragon said to her, during that brief period when she had run out? Why was she looking at me like a half guilty, half terrified rabbit?