I watched Garret pull his pistol from his back holster, check the chamber for a round, then carefully place it on the dresser. For a moment he hesitated, fingers curled lightly around the weapon, before he released it and pulled his hand away, empty.
Dread blossomed within, adding to the suffocating feeling that had clung to me ever since the meeting with Tristan. We’d driven straight to Salt Lake City and taken refuge in one of Riley’s safe houses, a foreclosed home on the outskirts of the city. Despite his aforementioned hatred of Salt Lake, it being one of St. George’s primary cities, Riley kept a safe house within enemy territory, “just in case.” Talon wouldn’t bother us here. If Riley was on the run from the organization and needed to get them off his back, this was a good spot to lie low and wait for things to blow over. If he didn’t attract the Order’s attention, too.
It was not the best of neighborhoods, and you could barely get through an hour without hearing a siren wail in the distance, but the house itself was actually fairly roomy, and everyone was relieved not to spend another night in a cramped hotel room. The extra space was definitely a good thing. I’d been afraid, from the confrontation earlier, that Garret and Riley would try to kill each other on the way up. But after the meeting with Tristan, it appeared to be business as usual once more. Garret, Riley and Wes talked—or argued, mostly—about the plan, with Riley and Wes insisting that this was probably a trap and Garret would be delivering himself right to the Order’s doorstep. The three of us—Riley, Wes and myself—tried to come up with a plan that would let us keep tabs on the soldier, or at least know what was going on within Order territory. But Garret was adamant he would go alone, and in the end, nothing we said would deter him.
Not one word had been said about what had happened in the hotel room right before Tristan contacted us. The boys seemed content to pretend it never happened. Though Riley spoke to us all a lot less now. There was a coldness to him that hadn’t been there before; he was still perfectly civil and businesslike, but he kept all of us, even Wes, at arm’s length. As if this was a job he had to complete, and when it was over, so were we.
It made my stomach ache with guilt, especially since every time I looked at him, I could see Cobalt’s gold eyes staring back at me, hurt, angry, betrayed. I wanted to talk to him, but what could I say? I’d made my choice. Even though my dragon side still protested. Even though she still insisted that Cobalt was our other half, and I was making a huge mistake pretending to be human.
And now, it was forty-six hours later. The time had come. Garret was going to walk out of the room alone, meet with a former ally turned enemy and let himself be taken before the Order of St. George. If something went wrong, I couldn’t be there. If Tristan betrayed Garret... I would never see him again.
I clenched my hands against the wooden frame, terrified, angry and desperate all at once. Garret turned, spotting me in the doorway, and his mouth curved in a gentle smile. “Ember,” he said as I took a calming breath and stepped into the room. I searched his face carefully, but saw no signs of fear or hesitation, just quiet resolve. “Come to convince me not to go, one more time?”
“You don’t have to do this,” I told him, holding his gaze as I walked up. “We can find another way, Garret. There has to be another way.”
He smiled and shook his head. “This is the best chance we have,” he said. “I won’t have another shot at getting this close to the Patriarch, with all the leaders of St. George in attendance. Even if they take me prisoner, they can’t ignore the evidence. Someone will listen. We just need to plant the seed.”
My throat closed up, and the corners of my eyes stung. Closing the gap, I reached out and slipped my arms around his waist, drawing him close. “I can’t lose you now,” I whispered, feeling his heart pick up beneath his shirt. “I can’t bear the thought that you’ll be walking in there, alone, and there’s nothing I can do if things go wrong.”
His arms wrapped around me, his cheek resting atop my head. “Let me do this,” he whispered into my hair. “For everything I’ve done. For all the lives I’ve taken, all the dragons I’ve destroyed. I have...a lot of blood on my hands, Ember.” He sighed, bowing his head. “A lot to atone for.”
“You don’t have to die to atone for those years, Garret,” I told him. “It was a war. You’re not responsible for the entire Order of St. George.”