Dante. A lump rose to my throat as I clambered off the motorcycle, and I forced my thoughts away from him. One problem at a time.

“Still up for this, Firebrand?” Riley whispered, jolting me out of my dark musings. With a mental shake, I nodded as my heart resumed its painful thud against my ribs. Riley gazed at me, then turned and pointed across the desert to where a scattering of distant lights winked at us in the darkness.

“That’s the base,” he said quietly as I stared at the glimmers marking our objective. Garret was somewhere behind those walls, and with any luck, we’d get to him and be long gone before anyone from St. George knew we were there. “We’re about two miles away,” Riley went on, “but we can’t risk driving any closer and having them see us. Stealth is our only chance to pull this off. From here, we walk.”

Wes slipped out of the van, ski cap pulled low over his head, and stalked around the vehicle to yank open the back doors. Riley joined him and dragged a black duffel bag out from under the seat. My heart lurched as Riley casually pulled out a small black pistol, checked the chamber for rounds and holstered it to his belt with easy familiarity.

I swallowed at the sight of the gun. “Riley?” I ventured, suddenly terrified and angry about being terrified. “Tell me the truth,” I said as he glanced over. “And don’t think for a minute that I’m backing out, but…how dangerous is this really going to be?”

Wes snorted. “Oh, sure, now she asks. On bloody St. George’s doorstep.”

Riley sighed. “Truth, Firebrand? I wouldn’t agree to do this if it was complete suicide,” he said, holding my gaze. I blinked at him, surprised, and he gave a weary smile. “Wes might preach doom and gloom, but trust me when I say I know what I’m doing. We’ll be going in when most of the base will be asleep. This particular chapterhouse is extremely remote and well hidden; they’re using isolation to deter unwanted guests, so security should be minimal. If no one knows where you are, why bother with a ton of guards and patrols? And trust me, two dragons sneaking into a St. George compound doesn’t happen often, if ever.

“But,” he went on as I relaxed a bit, “that doesn’t mean it won’t be dangerous. These types of missions usually go one of two ways: without a hitch, or spectacularly wrong. Hopefully, we’ll be able to sneak in, find what we want and tiptoe away without anyone knowing we were there. That’s the best-case scenario. I think you can guess the worst-case scenario. So, on that note…” He held out a pistol to me. “Ever shot one of these?”

Numbly, I shook my head. I’d handled a gun before, both in my training with Lilith and then briefly when I’d disarmed the Glock aimed at my face, but I’d never fired one. Certainly not at a living creature.

Riley smiled grimly. “If it gets to the point where we’re shooting at people, then the mission is FUBAR and we need to get out of there as fast as we can.” He held up the weapon. “These are only to be used as the very last resort. But if the mission does go south, you’re going to want something to defend yourself with. The problem with claws and teeth is that you have to get in close to attack, and that might be tricky if they’re all firing M-16s at you.”

“I’ve never fired a gun before, Riley. I don’t even know if I could…shoot someone. Not for real. I’ve never killed anyone before.”

Riley’s lip curled in a hard smile. “Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to get over that, Firebrand,” he stated bluntly. “We might not be part of Talon anymore, but St. George doesn’t give a damn about that little fact. To them, all dragons are the same. Rogue, hatchling or Viper, it makes no difference to the Order. They’ll kill us regardless of faction or sympathies.” He lowered the gun, his gaze almost accusing. “This is still a war, but we aren’t just fighting one side anymore. Not only do we have to be on the lookout for St. George—Talon will be breathing down our necks, as well. We kind of got the shit end of both sticks, if you haven’t noticed by now.”

I blinked, stunned. I’d never heard Riley sound so bitter. Although, ever since we’d left Crescent Beach, he’d seemed…different. More serious and take-charge. This was not the cocky, insufferable, devil-may-care rogue I’d met before. He was not the mysterious lone rebel I’d thought he was, but the leader of an entire rogue underground, with who knew how many dragons and humans depending on him. I suspected now that the dragon I’d met in Crescent Beach had been putting on a show, a mask, the perfect identity for the current situation. I wondered, yet again, if the Riley I faced now was the real one.

At my silence, Riley gave me a weary, sympathetic look, his voice going softer.

“Sorry, Firebrand. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat like that. I know you’ve never killed anyone, and I don’t expect you to. Not tonight, anyway.” He sighed and raked his hair back. “I’ve just…seen a lot, you understand? From Talon and St. George. I’ve lost friends and hatchlings to both organizations, and some days it feels like I’m pushing a boulder up a never-ending cliff, and if I let up for one second, it’ll roll back and crush me.” His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened as he looked away. “One day it will roll back and crush me.”

His gaze flicked back to mine. “What I’m trying to say is, if you’re going to stand against Talon, you have to do whatever it takes to stay alive. And one day, that might involve shooting someone. Or incinerating them. Or tearing them apart. Yeah, it’s ugly, it’s messy and it’s not fair, but that’s the truth of it. This is our world, Firebrand. This is the world you live in now.” He held the gun out to me once more. “Unless you want to go back.”