“What am I, then?” she whispered.

My heart was pounding again. Slowly, I reached for her arm, turning her to face me. If she stiffened or pulled back in disgust, I would let her go. But her gaze rose to mine, direct and unafraid, and my breath caught.

“You’re the girl who taught me to surf,” I said, holding her stare. “And shoot zombies. And dance. And to never make you angry, even in human form, or risk being kicked where the sun don’t shine.” She snorted, not quite smiling, but her eyes lightened a shade at the memory. I smiled and eased closer, feeling the heat pulse between us, even in the stifling Vegas air.

“You’re the dragon who chose not to kill a soldier of St. George when you had the chance,” I went on in a softer voice. “You risked your life to break into a compound full of enemies who would slaughter you on sight, to rescue someone you should hate.” Unbidden, my other hand rose, brushing a fiery strand of hair from her eyes, and she shivered. “I don’t know what that makes you, exactly, but from where I’m standing, I’d say it’s pretty amazing.”

Her eyes gleamed, and a smile finally tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Okay, now I am worried,” she murmured in a teasing voice. “Who is this smooth-talking, nonuptight normal person and what did you do with the real Garret?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been told I need to loosen up,” I said, and kissed her.

She made a tiny noise of surprise, and then her hands were in my hair, holding me close, and my arms were around her waist, pressing us together. I closed my eyes, feeling my stomach twist, feeling her lips against mine, eager and insistent, her arms wrapping around my neck. She tugged on my bottom lip, and a groan escaped me as I let her in, clutching her tighter. There was no disgust. No regret. I stood on this roof, openly kissing a girl who was really a dragon, and I wasn’t sorry at all.

“Ember!”

The shout cut through the quiet, and my nerves leaped in warning. I jerked back to see the rogue dragon striding across the roof toward us, a murderous gleam in his eyes.

Riley

I’m going to kill her.

I stood in the center of the casino floor, surrounded by surging, babbling, oblivious mortals, and tried to ignore the temptation to turn the whole place into an inferno. Where was she? I’d already gone upstairs and pounded on the door to her room but, as Wes had said, she was gone. She and the soldier both. I’d called the throwaway phone Wes had given her and had been sent to voice mail both times, which meant she had either left it in her room or was deliberately ignoring me.

The urge to blast something to a smoldering ash pile grew stronger, and I started moving again, scanning the throngs for bright red hair and green eyes. Normally, Ember was impossible to miss, even in a crowd. But a Vegas casino, with its blinking lights, aimlessly wandering humans and deliberately confusing floor plans, was one of the worst places to pick someone out of a crowd. That was why we’d come here, to hide from Talon and the Order, but now that ploy was working against me. Which was ironic, annoying as hell and doing a great job of pissing me off.

Dammit, Ember. Where are you?

With a growl, I circled the casino once more before heading upstairs. I didn’t have time for this. I had to get to that abandoned hotel to look for runaway hatchlings before St. George got wind of them. For every minute I wasted here, the Order could be drawing closer. There didn’t seem to be any St. George activity around the casino, so I doubted Ember and the soldier were in trouble. I suspected the defiant red hatchling had gotten bored and had either bullied or convinced the human to come with her. That she was missing annoyed me. That she was missing and alone with the soldier pushed me a little closer to murderous rage, which I knew was unreasonable. She wasn’t mine. I didn’t want this attachment, despite every instinct telling me otherwise. I had more important things to focus on; my hatchlings, my underground, keeping everyone in my network safe from Talon and St. George. Wes was right; ever since Ember had come into my life, I’d been distracted. There was something about the fiery red dragon that I couldn’t ignore, and that was stupid and dangerous and could very well get us all killed, but I couldn’t help it. Like it or not, Ember had buried her claws in deep, and I was either going to have to accept it and give in, or find a way to live with it, because I’d be damned if I pushed her away now.

After searching the casino, the restaurants and the myriad stores with no success, I finally made my way to the roof. There were a couple humans floating around a brightly lit pool, but no Ember. I circled the edge and made my way toward the far wall, where the tops of the Vegas skyscrapers loomed against the night sky.

And there they were, both of them, by the railing. I saw Ember mutter something, her eyes downcast, saw the soldier turn her to face him. He said something that made her smile…

…and then he kissed her.

Something inside me snapped. My dragon gave a shriek of outrage and reared up, filling me with fire and hatred, tinting everything with a red haze. I felt myself moving across the roof, heard myself shout something just before I reached them. The soldier glanced up, and I threw a savage right hook at his face.

He dodged, jerking his head back, my fist missing him by inches. Ember yelped in shock. St. George swiftly backed away and raised his fists, a clear invitation to fight, and the dragon roared acceptance.

Snarling, I tensed to lunge, but before I could go for him again, something grabbed my arm from behind.

“Riley, what the hell are you doing? Stop!”