Legion. Julie Kagawa
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Riley snorted. “Very noble of you.”
“I would come with you, Riley, you know I would,” I said firmly. “I want to go, and I want to see for myself. But...” I started to rub my arms, then stopped myself. “I won’t leave him behind. Not alone. And we have to figure out what Talon is doing before they surprise us with their next horrible scheme. So, the three of you go ahead. I’ll stay here with Garret.”
“No, you won’t,” Wes sighed, shocking me again. “I will.” Riley turned to him, and he shrugged. “I can do just as much over the phone as in person,” he said in a reasonable voice, “and you’ll need someone watching the safe houses while you’re gone. Let’s face it, mate, she’s better in a fight, and if bugger all goes down, three dragons have a better chance of making it out alive than two dragons and a human. I’ll stay here, provide support and make sure St. George doesn’t bleed to death and the nests don’t explode. He’ll be safe with me—and don’t give me that look,” he added as Riley raised a brow at him. “The tosser is useful—I’m not too much of a bastard to admit it. If keeping him alive means he’ll kill more of St. George and Talon in the future, then by all means, I’ll give him whatever he needs.”
I smiled at his gruffness, seeing the flush that crept below his scruffy jawline. “Thanks, Wes.”
“Yes, thank you, Wesley,” Riley echoed in a mock sincere voice. “For dragging me into yet another insane scheme. I suppose if I refuse now, these two morons will go to this crash site without me.” He shook his head and raised a hand before I could protest. “Fine. Great. Into the jaws of death once more—must be a Tuesday. So, now that you mutineers have decided where we’re going next, why don’t you tell me how long it’s going to take to drive from Wyoming to Arkansas?”
Wes’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Um...about eighteen hours,” he confirmed, squinting at the screen. “If you drive straight through.”
Riley exhaled and shook his head in exasperated defeat. “All right,” he muttered, “if we’re really going to do this, let’s get it over with.” Straightening, he became confident again, his tone brusque and commanding. “We’ll leave tomorrow. Wes, send a message to all the safe houses. Tell them—again—they are to stay put and not move unless they are one hundred percent certain Talon or St. George will kick down their door in the next twenty-four hours. I’ll get things together so we can leave as soon as we can.” He gave me an appraising, golden-eyed stare, and one corner of his mouth curled up. I swallowed, ignoring the slow flame coiling through my insides. “Get some rest, Firebrand,” he ordered. “You’ve gotten only a couple hours a night this whole time, and most of that has been slumped in a chair. I know you’re tired. Go to sleep.”
I smirked back, ready to tell him I was fine, but then I realized he was right. I was more than tired. Between the stress of nearly losing Garret, his sickness and the constant bedside vigil, I was completely exhausted. Sleep sounded wonderful right now.
“Yeah,” I agreed, drawing back. “I’ll do that. Don’t leave without me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I checked on Garret one last time before continuing to the room next door. He was still dead to the world, his breaths slow and deep. I tiptoed out to avoid waking him, walked into my own room and collapsed on my tiny cot in the corner. The lumpy, metal-framed mattress felt like heaven. I was unconscious almost before my head hit the pillow.
* * *
A knocking at my door pulled me out of a dead, dreamless sleep. Groping for my phone, I stared blearily at the glowing numbers: 6:42 a.m. Holy crap, it had been seven in the evening when I’d fallen into bed last night. I’d zonked out for nearly twelve hours.
The knocking came again, probably Riley or Jade, impatient to get on the road. Eighteen hours was a long drive down to Arkansas. I thought of Garret, and felt a stab of worry and guilt for leaving him, but he had been shot and nearly killed less than two weeks ago. He certainly couldn’t come with us.
“I’m up!” I called, scrambling off the mattress. Jeez, the floor was cold. “I’m coming, just gimme a couple seconds.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing it down as best I could. Yawning, I walked to the door and pulled it open.
It wasn’t Riley. Or Jade.
“Hey, dragon girl,” Garret said, smiling at me over the threshold. He wore jeans and a white T-shirt, and his short blond hair, clean and brushed back, glinted under the bare bulbs. His metallic-gray eyes were shining as they met mine. “You didn’t think you were going to leave me behind, did you?”
I shouldn’t be up.
Not because I felt weak, or because I was still healing. I literally should not be able to stand right now, not with the injury I’d sustained. I’d nearly died; my body had suffered a massive amount of trauma that should have taken weeks, if not months, to fully heal. But last night, I’d woken up groggy and confused, and the air under the sheets had felt like a sauna. Without even thinking about it, I’d swung out of bed and slipped down the hall until I found a room with people in it. When I’d walked through the door, Wes had nearly fallen out of his chair, and Riley had uttered a very emphatic curse.
“Shit, St. George!” The rogue had given me an incredulous glare. “What the hell are you doing? You want to kill yourself? There is no way you should be up right now.”
I’d tried to clear my bleary thoughts. Only then had I realized I was shirtless, and my entire chest was wrapped in bandages and gauze. “How long have I been down?”
“More than a week.” Riley had stalked forward, gold eyes narrowed and appraising. “And truthfully, I have no idea how you’re even standing, unless you’re so delirious you don’t feel anything.”
Jade had appeared in the doorway, slender brows rising as our gazes met. I’d been surprised, as well; just how much had happened while I was out? “Well,” the Eastern dragon had commented in a wry voice. “According to Riley, I was not expecting to see you for quite some time. But it appears that you are not...what is the saying again? On death’s doorstep, after all.”
“Like hell he’s not.” It had been Wes’s turn to stalk forward, yank up a chair and grab a first-aid kit from a cabinet. “Sit down, you bloody stubborn bastard, before you tear yourself open. If you die now, that damn hatchling is going to kill something.”
I’d sunk wordlessly onto the chair as the hacker began cutting gauze from my back and chest. As he’d peeled back the wrappings, cool air had hit my skin, and the human had uttered a breathless curse.
“Bloody hell, are you kidding me?” I’d felt a cloth brush my skin, right over the wound, but it had barely stung. “Are you seeing this, Riley? Last week, there was a hole the size of a golf ball. Now, bloody nothing.” The rag had swiped my back, a little harder this time, sending a twinge through my side. “This looks like weeks of healing, not a bloody few days. Holy shit. Holy. Shit. Do you realize what this means?”
I’d twisted in my seat, causing him to fumble with the bandages and swear. “Where’s Ember?” I’d asked, looking around the room. I was still