“For Sebastian.”
I didn’t answer. I was looking for Garret, because he had texted me a few minutes ago with instructions to meet in the command room. It had sounded important, like maybe they had finally figured out a way to get to the island. But judging by Peter Matthews’s expression, his mind had gone straight to the gutter.
At my silence, his smirk twisted, becoming a sneer as he turned to the other soldier, jerking his head in my direction. “Joseph, that’s Sebastian’s little dragon bitch,” he told him. “Watch them together sometime—she can make him dance, sing, beg and roll over. He eats right out of her hand. It’s pretty fucking hilarious.”
“Yeah?” the other soldier gruffed, staring at me. “So it’s that good, huh? Hey, dragon, how much of my soul would I have to sell to get some of that?”
Well, this conversation had gotten disgusting in a hurry. I pushed down my anger and walked forward, determined to ignore them.
Abruptly, Matthews’s hand shot out, slamming into the opposite wall, blocking my way. I froze, clamping down on the knee-jerk reaction to Shift and bite his arm off.
“Joseph asked you a question, lizard,” Peter Matthews said, his voice full of menace as he loomed over me. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore someone? Or is common decency as foreign to you animals as everything else?”
I bit my lip to keep the flames under control, to stifle the instinctive desire to Shift in the face of an obvious threat. My anger and disgust with these humans was reaching dangerous levels. Keep it together, Ember. You can’t start a war right now.
“Good God, you two are stupid.”
The deep, mocking voice echoed behind us. The soldiers jerked up, and I spun around to see Tristan St. Anthony’s lean, wiry form standing at the end of the corridor. His arms were crossed, and he was staring at the other soldiers, ocean-blue eyes crinkled in disgust.
“And here I thought I’d seen it all,” Tristan said, strolling up casually. He shot a disdainful look at Peter and shook his head. “Do you have a fucking death wish, Matthews? You know, there are easier ways to kill yourself than harassing a fire-breathing dragon in a very tight hallway.”
“St. Anthony.” The other soldiers straightened so they were no longer in my face, but they didn’t move back. Peter Matthews’s sneer faltered but came back quickly. “Did Sebastian send you to rescue his scaly mistress? That’s what you Western Chapterhouse pussies are all about now, right? Rescuing the enemy? Cozying up to lizards?”
The other soldier, Joseph, snickered. “Maybe she holds his leash, too.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow at the pair. It was a small motion, but the amused contempt he could project with it was impressive. “Rescue a dragon,” he said slowly. “Right. Clearly, that’s what I’m doing here. I’m certainly not saving a pair of class-A morons from being turned into steaming piles of stupidity when the dragon decides she’s had enough and fries your asses.”
Matthews snorted. “It can’t touch us,” he stated with smug confidence. “Not if it wants our help to rescue its scaly friends. If it even singes one hair, Lieutenant Ward will put a bullet through its head and slaughter every lizard in this place. That’s why it won’t lay a paw on me, isn’t that right, dragon?” He gave me a cruel smile. “I’ve got your number,” he said as I seethed and dug my nails into my palms to stop the flames from exploding. “You dragons are all about manipulation, but we can play that game, too. The Eastern Chapterhouse isn’t full of blind, bleating sheep. You won’t corrupt us like you did Sebastian.” His eyes narrowed, mean and challenging. “So what’dya say to that, lizard?”
A thousand answers sprang to mind: angry, sarcastic, petty, defiant. For a split second, I almost went with the tried and true response of a foot to the groin. I wouldn’t be changing into a dragon. They couldn’t fault me for staying human, right?
Matthews was watching me, his sneer triumphant. I could feel Tristan at my back, waiting to see what I would do. The third soldier had gone tense, as if he just realized how volatile the situation had become, and how close to an angry dragon they really were. He was afraid, I realized with a jolt. Afraid that I would Shift and tear them both to pieces. He knew a pair of humans stood no chance against a dragon, even if they were trained to kill them. They would need guns and a lot more men, and they certainly wouldn’t start the battle right in the dragon’s face. Peter Matthews was either very stupid or smarter than I gave him credit for. He knew, and he was counting on my not being able to Shift.
I met Peter Matthews’s gaze. “You’re a coward,” I told him calmly. “You hide behind protocol, because you know I can’t retaliate. You know that if I respond at all, the soldiers here will turn on us in a heartbeat, and we can’t afford that now. That’s fine. Play your hateful little games. I have bigger problems to deal with.” Peter Matthews sneered, but a spark of anger flickered across his face. I narrowed my eyes, letting a sliver of heat rise to the surface, tinting the air with the scent of smoke. “But let me make one thing very clear. If you hurt or threaten any of my friends, it won’t matter where we are or how many soldiers are around. By the time I’m done, there won’t be enough left of you to fill a shot glass.”
Matthews’s lip curled up. “Who do you think you’re talking to, lizard?” he growled. “I’ve killed more of your kind than you can even imagine, and you’d be no different. Don’t threaten me.”
I brushed passed him, continuing down the hall. I didn’t look back, or slow down. Only when I was around a corner and out of sight did I stop and press my forehead to the cold stone wall, breathing hard to calm the inferno within.
Okay, so this was bad. I knew the soldiers of St. George hated us, but this was taking it to a whole new level. And as far as I could tell, those two would be going to the island with us. How were we going to rescue the breeders and get everyone out safely when I had to watch my back around my supposed teammates?
Footsteps came around the corner and I looked up with a growl, both hoping and fearing it was Matthews.
“Just me,” Tristan said, holding up his hands. I relaxed, taking a final breath and pushing myself off the wall. Tristan stepped closer, his mouth pulled into a wry grimace.
“Sorry about that,” he offered, surprising me. I looked up at him with a frown, and he shrugged. “We’re not all raging assholes like Peter Matthews. Most of us know how to be civil, even to our enemies.”
Enemies. Suddenly tired, I leaned back against the wall, feeling his cool gaze on me. Are we still enemies, then? I wanted to ask. How much longer will it take for you to trust us? After everything Garret had told him, even after working with us himself, if Tristan St. Anthony still saw us as monsters, how would we ever convince the rest of the Order?
“So,” Tristan said after an awkward silence. His voice was hesitant, as if he were debating whether or not to say anything. “You and Garret…”
He trailed off, watching me. I knew what he was asking. What are you doing with my friend? What does he mean to you? I could hear the questions in his voice, the concern that I was using the soldier. The fear that Garret had given his heart to a soulless demon, and I would someday rip it to shreds and leave him bleeding in the dust.
There were a lot of things I could tell Tristan. Promises and assurances that I would never hurt the soldier. Reasons that he trusted us, that we trusted him, with our lives. But, in the end, I went with the truest, easiest explanation.