Ember might think this was a walk in the park, but I knew how quickly things could turn. And if they did turn, our chances of getting out were slim to zilch.
As we drew close to the first row of buildings, creeping along the outer wall, the door in front of us swung open. Biting back a curse, I dived behind a corner, pressing myself against the wall, as Ember did the same. I felt the heat of her body against mine and squashed the impatient riling of my dragon as a pair humans paused at the bottom of the steps, talking in low, rough voices.
“Damn kitchen duty,” one growled, sounding sullen. “Of course, I’d have to pull it today. You going to the execution?”
“I dunno,” the other replied as Ember stiffened beside me. “It seems…kinda wrong, you know? I saw him in the South American raid, when he charged that damn adult lizard by himself. Kid’s completely fearless.”
“He’s a dragonlover.” The other soldier’s voice was cutting. “Did you not hear what he said at his trial? I personally can’t wait to see his guts sprayed all over the ground. Better than he deserves, if you ask me.”
They walked on, arguing now, their voices fading into the darkness. When they were gone, I blew out a quiet breath, slumping against the wall, then glanced at Ember.
Her face was white with horror and rage, her eyes glowing a bright, furious emerald in the shadows. Like she might Shift, here and now, and tear those two soldiers to pieces. Quickly, I put a hand on her arm, feeling it shake under my fingers, and leaned close. “Easy, Firebrand,” I whispered as my dragon tried pushing its way to the surface again. I shoved it back. “This is why we’re here. He’s not dead yet.”
Though that was the confirmation I needed. They were going to execute the soldier today, probably as soon as it was light outside. Not that I cared—I’d be more than happy if another St. George bastard kicked it—but that didn’t give us a lot of time to work with. If we were going to get him out, it had to be now. But Ember’s reaction to the news sent a flare of anger through my veins. Why did she care about this kid so much? He was just a human and, more important, he was St. George. I remembered the way she’d looked at him, the way she had danced with him, and my anger grew. Ember was a dragon; she had no business getting involved with a human. Once we rescued this bastard and were far enough from St. George that I could breathe again, I would show her exactly what it meant to be a dragon.
Ember took a deep breath and nodded. Carefully, we eased around the buildings, hugging the walls and shadows, inching steadily toward the large, two-story building near the center. We avoided the brightly lit front, of course, sidling along the back wall until we reached a small metal door.
Ember started forward, but I grabbed her arm, motioning to the camera mounted over the steps. We shrank back into the shadows again as I spoke into the mic. “Wes, we’re at the back door of the main building. No guards, but there is a camera up top and it looks like you need a key card to get in.”
“Hang on.” Wes fell silent while Ember and I pressed against the wall and waited. “Okay,” he muttered after a few seconds. “Just give me a minute to see if I can turn it off.”
As he was talking, a body suddenly came around the corner. A human, wearing normal clothes, his dark hair buzzed close. He jerked, startled, and for a split second the three of us gaped at each other in shock, before his muscles tensed, mouth opening to shout a warning.
And Ember lunged in, a black blur across my vision, hitting the soldier in the jaw right below the ear. The human’s head snapped to the side, and he collapsed as if all his bones had turned into string, sprawling facedown in the sand.
I breathed in slowly, as Ember blinked and stared wide-eyed at the fallen soldier, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done, either. My arms were shaking, adrenaline coursing through my veins. It had happened so quickly; I hadn’t even had time to move before the soldier was unconscious. And my reflexes weren’t slow by any means.
“Firebrand,” I breathed, and she looked at me, almost frightened. “That was…impressive. Where did you learn that?”
“I don’t know.” She backed away from the body, as if afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing something else. “I just… I saw him and…” Her eyes darkened, and she shook her head. “I don’t even remember what I did.”
Lilith’s training. This was what the Vipers taught their students—how to be fast, how to be quick and lethal, and to strike without thinking. To recognize a threat and take it out. Immediately.
“Riley.” Wes’s voice crackled in my ear, wary and anxious. “You okay? What’s going on?”
I shook myself. “Nothing,” I told him, moving toward the fallen soldier. Ember had had to silence him, no question, but we still had to deal with him. Last thing we needed was for him to wake up and alert the rest of the base. “Small problem. It’s been dealt with,” I continued, kneeling beside the human and reaching into a compartment on my belt. “How’s the unlocking the door part coming along?”
“What are you doing, Riley?” Ember asked suddenly, watching me with wary green eyes. “You…you’re not going to kill him, are you?”
I shook my head, showing her the plastic zip ties I pulled from my belt, though I found it a little ironic. Had Ember been a full Viper, I doubted this human would be alive. And I wasn’t going to snap his neck or slit his throat while he lay there, helpless. Even though I hated the bastards, and would gladly blast him to cinders if I had to, I wasn’t a killer. Not like them.
Wes’s voice continued to buzz in my ear. “I can get the door open,” he said as I pulled the soldier’s arms behind him and zip-tied his wrists together. “But if I start blacking out cameras, they might get suspicious. Best I can give you is a thirty-second feedback loop, but you’ll have to get inside before the feed goes normal again. Think you can do that?”
I gagged the human with the roll of duct tape in my belt, then heaved the unconscious body over my shoulder. He hung like a sack of potatoes—a heavy, well-muscled sack of potatoes. “Do it,” I grunted, staggering toward a Dumpster we’d crouched behind a moment ago. “Just give us fifteen seconds. Ember, get the cover, will you?”
She scurried to the Dumpster and pushed up the lid, releasing the stench of old milk, rotting things and decay. I probably shouldn’t have felt so spitefully pleased as I dropped the body between reeking sacks of garbage and closed the top, but I did.
At the bottom of the steps, we hung back in the shadows, watching the door and the camera up top. “Gimme a moment,” Wes muttered as I drummed my fingers against my knee, feeling highly exposed. Another soldier could come waltzing around the corner anytime. We might’ve gotten lucky once; twice would be pushing it. “All right,” Wes finally said. “In ten seconds, the camera will go off and the door will unlock. Both will happen almost simultaneously, so you’ll have to get up there fast. Ready?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, feeling Ember tense beside me.
“Then…go! Now!”
I burst forward and raced up the steps, not daring to look at the camera peering down at me with its soulless black eye. My fingers closed on the handle just as there was a soft beep, and the light above the key-card slit turned green. Wrenching open the door, I motioned Ember inside, then ducked over the threshold myself. The door closed, shutting behind us with a soft click that seemed to echo down the long, brightly lit corridor ahead.
We
