Her eyes gleamed. Turning in my arms, she slid her hands up my back and closed her eyes as I kissed her.

Her lips were gentle this time, searching. I felt the lightest flick of her tongue against my bottom lip and shivered, parting them slightly to let her in. She explored my mouth, and I clenched my fists against her back, feeling like I was drowning once more. The end of summer, and the mission, loomed overhead, dark and ominous, but I shoved it away. One more night, I told myself, hesitantly meeting Ember’s tongue, feeling like my knees might give out at any moment. just one more night, to make believe I was normal. To pretend that the beautiful, fiery, unpredictable girl in my arms, was mine.

A hollow bang caused me to jerk back, disengaging from Ember just as Tristan threw open the door. His dark eyes swept over us, taking in the scene, and narrowed suspiciously. I gave him a cold look, annoyed but knowing he wouldn’t have come in if it wasn’t important.

“Something’s come up,” he announced briskly, confirming my suspicion. “Garret, your dad is on the phone and wants to talk to you. Now.”

I straightened, my blood going cold. My “dad” was code for the Order, and any communications from them took top priority. “I’ll be right there,” I said, and Tristan ducked out without shutting the door behind him. I turned to Ember.

“I have to go,” I said, already thinking about what the Order might want. Maybe they had found the sleeper dragon and were calling us back to the front lines. The thought filled me with both dread and relief. If they had discovered the sleeper, that meant our target wasn’t Ember. But that also meant this was the last time I’d see her before I left Crescent Beach, vanished from her life, and returned to the war.

Trying not to think about that, I held out a hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Ember looked confused. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” I muttered, leading her down the hall, past Tristan’s room and the kitchen, to the front door. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. My dad’s…kind of important,” I temporized. “He doesn’t call unless it’s an emergency.”

The lie felt sour on my tongue. We halted in the entrance, and I couldn’t stop my hand from reaching out, running my fingers through her hair. Maybe for the last time. “I’ll…call you later, okay?” I hoped that wasn’t a lie, too.

She leaned forward, gently touching her lips to mine, and I closed my eyes. “Talk to you soon,” she whispered, and slipped through the door. I watched her walk away, feeling a small part of me leave with her, than firmly shut the door on Ember Hill and a normal life.

Tristan was standing over the laptop when I came into his room, hovering inside the doorway. “St. George just contacted us,” he announced, his eyes glued to the computer screen. “We’re on a twentyfour hour alert. Apparently, they’re tracking a couple dragons that escaped a raid in Colorado, and they think they’re somewhere in Crescent Beach, possibly with the sleeper. They’re on their way now.

We have orders to join the team when they arrive, so until we hear from mission control, we’re on standby. So get ready to head out as soon as they give the word.” A shadow of a smile crossed the stern look on his face, and his dark eyes gleamed as he glanced up at me.

“Finally, some movement. I was half-afraid they’d forgotten we were here.”

I didn’t answer. Whirling from the desk, Tristan walked to his closet door, reached all the way to the back, and gently removed a long black case, setting it almost reverently on the bed. Clicking it open, he ran his fingers over the polished metal of his sniper rifle, his eyes never leaving the deadly weapon. “Enough with this sitting around,” he muttered, “staking out houses, and following teenagers down the beach. I was getting tired of it. It’s about time we got back to the war.”

Normally, I would’ve agreed. Before I came to Crescent Beach, the news of a raid, where there could likely be several dragons under one roof, would have made my heart race in excitement. Now, I was filled with disquiet, a faint unease that nagged at me and refused to settle. I’d never questioned orders before, never given our purpose a second thought. Before a certain redhead, I saw dragons as only one thing: monsters to be hunted down and slain.

Before Ember, everything was far less complicated.

“Garret.” Tristan’s voice was hard. I glanced at him warily, and he glared back. My partner had this uncanny ability to know exactly what I was thinking, even when I gave him nothing. “This is our job, partner,” he told me, his voice firm. “We both knew this was coming. Everything we’ve done here has led up to this.”

“I know,” I muttered.

“Then get ready, because the Order is on its way. And when they get here, you’d better have your priorities straight.”

“I know what I have to do,” I said flatly. “Nothing will change that.”

“Good,” Tristan nodded, and picked up his scope, peering down the lens. “Because we move out as soon as they arrive.”

I retreated to my room, reached under my bed, and pulled out a large black duffle bag. Yanking it open, I quickly changed into my battle dress; flame retardant suit, tactical fatigues, flak jacket, boots, gloves. My helmet and mask I left off for now, but when they did go on, no patch of skin would be left uncovered.

As I slipped my Glock into its thigh holster, I caught a glimpse of myself in the oval mirror above the dresser. A stark, cold-eyed soldier stared back at me, dressed for combat, for dealing death. It was a sudden, harsh reminder; this was who I was. The past few weeks had been a fantasy, a pleasant distraction. But it was time to return to the real world, and what I was trained for. I was a soldier of St.