Rogue (Talon 2)

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“I don’t know.” He drew closer, looking thoughtful. His gray eyes were still intense, piercing, as his fingers brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. “But I’d be willing to find out.”

My heart turned over. He was giving me that look, the look of the boy from Crescent Beach, the one who had danced and surfed and kissed me in the ocean. The boy who didn’t know I was a dragon, not yet, who saw me only for me.

I swallowed hard. Ever since the night we’d faced each other on the bluff, dragon to soldier, I’d known that whatever we had over the summer was gone. Garret was part of St. George, the Order who saw all my kind as evil, soulless monsters. He might not believe that anymore, but I was still a dragon. Very much not human, despite these crazy humanlike emotions urging me forward, to reach up and pull his lips down to mine. I’d never thought we would be here again, face-to-face, with Garret watching me like I was the only person in the entire world. A ripple of doubt filtered through the happy longing. If I Shifted now, if I stood here in my real form, wings, scales, talons and all, would he still look at me like that?

The crowd at the table erupted once more, this time with loud groans and gestures of disgust. I swallowed a growl as Rude Guy hit me in the ribs with an elbow, and saw a dangerous light pass through Garret’s eyes as his attention shifted to the oblivious human. I didn’t think Garret would knock Rude Guy on his ass right here, much as I’d love to see that, but it was definitely getting crowded. I suddenly didn’t want to be surrounded by bright lights and mobs of humans. I wanted a nice dark corner to see this—whatever this was—through in peace.

“Come on,” I told Garret, backing away from the table. He followed me, that same bright, intense stare making my insides dance. “Let’s find someplace quieter.”

Garret

What are you doing, Garret?

I followed Ember through the casino, keeping a wary eye out for security, and one guard in particular. The soldier in me operated on instinct, scanning the floor, constantly alert for hidden threats. I knew it was unlikely that St. George was here, and even more unlikely that they would attack us in the casino, but a lifetime of war and fighting had made me paranoid; I couldn’t turn that off even if I wanted to. Which was good, because my emotions had become somewhat…distracting.

You know what she is. You can’t plead ignorance anymore.

I knew that. Ember was a dragon; it was impossible to forget that now. I remembered the groggy red creature staring at me from the bloody floor of a van. I remembered the way she spoke in the abandoned house, the hurt on her reptilian face when she thought I was afraid of her, that we were enemies. Even then, she’d still sounded like Ember, like the girl I’d met in Crescent Beach, though her outside form had changed. It was strange; not long ago, dragons had been monsters. Ruthless, cunning and intelligent, but monsters nonetheless. Ember wasn’t human, and maybe I was being profane, but the line between girl and dragon had somehow blurred, and I didn’t see either of them as monstrous anymore.

You’re a soldier of St. George. A dragonslayer. She should hate you, and everything you’ve done to her kind.

I winced. That was true, as well; I could never erase the years I’d fought with St. George, killing dragons, driving them toward extinction. That Ember had rescued me, risked her own life to save mine, was still hard to believe. She had to realize how dangerous it was, crossing into St. George territory, just to find me. Had it been a sense of obligation, the fact that I’d helped her and the rogue escape Crescent Beach, that made her risk everything to break into the Order chapterhouse? A debt that needed to be paid? Or could it be…something else?

Could I hope for something else?

I shook myself, trying to clear my head, calm the storm of confusing thoughts and emotions that battered me from within. I was still unsure what I was going to do, what was going to happen tonight, as Ember pushed back a door and led us outside. A rooftop pool glowed in the center of the space, and a few civilians lounged in a nearby whirlpool, despite the heavy desert heat.

Ember led us across the roof to an isolated corner surrounded by planter boxes and fake trees, where the bright lights of Vegas glimmered beyond the rails. The space was empty, but the soldier in me scanned the area out of habit, making sure it was safe, that we were alone. Ember gave a low chuckle and shook her head.

“Relax, oh paranoid one. I doubt there’ll be Talon agents hiding in the potted plants.”

“You never know,” I returned, feeling strangely light and flippant, not like myself at all. Being around Ember had that effect on me, I was discovering. “It could be a brilliant Talon plot. Instead of humans, dragons Shift into benches.”

She laughed. “Oh, great. Now I’m going to be paranoid every time I sit down. I hope you’re happy.” She turned and rested her elbows on the railing, gazing out over the city. I mimicked her pose, leaning against the rails, our arms almost touching. I was acutely aware of her body next to mine, radiating warmth, especially when Ember let out a sigh and leaned her head on my shoulder, making my pulse spike.

“Thanks for this,” she murmured, as I told myself to keep breathing. “I needed to get out, to do something, or I was going to go crazy. Staying in that room alone, there were just so many memories. I can’t be in my own head right now…” She paused, giving herself a slight shake, as if to drive those memories away. I didn’t move, afraid that if I did it would break the spell and she would pull back. Instead, Ember pressed closer, causing all my nerve endings to stand up, and we stared out at the city lights for several silent heartbeats.

“Does it ever get any easier?” she whispered at last.

She didn’t have to explain what she meant. “Yes,” I told her. “Unfortunately. You have nightmares for a few weeks, and you question yourself for a long time—did you do the right thing, was there anything you could have done differently—but after a while, if you keep at it, pulling the trigger gets easier and easier. Eventually, it becomes routine, something you do without thinking.” I glanced at her, hoping she didn’t think I was bragging. “It’s not something to be proud of,” I said softly. “And it’s not something you should strive for, not if you want to be anywhere near normal. I’ve been a soldier all my life. St. George taught me how to kill, but that’s all I can do. It’s the only thing I know how to do.” Ember didn’t answer, her gaze far away and dark. Maybe she despised me now, a soldier who took lives so easily, who killed without thinking. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. “You don’t want that, Ember,” I said, not adding what I really thought, my own selfish desires. I don’t want that for you. I kill when I must for survival, but I wish you didn’t have to be part of this war. If I could take you away from all of it, I would.