Soldier (Talon, #3)

I exhaled slowly, letting the dragon and her hope for retribution settle back reluctantly. “Now what?” I asked Riley, who snorted.

“Back to square one, unfortunately. Wes will track him down again, see where the bastard has gone to hide next. But it could take time, and we’re running out of it. Dammit.” He punched the wall, causing a hollow boom to echo through the hallway. “So close. Well, come on, Firebrand. Before the cops show up, let’s see if he left anything behind. Any hints as to where he’s gone now.”

We quickly searched the room, but despite it being a dump, Griffin hadn’t left anything that could be traced back to him, not even a crumpled receipt.

“He probably paid with cash,” Riley growled, after emptying the trash bins, looking under the bed and rummaging through the bathroom yielded nothing. “And covered his tracks really well. Damn him. Looks like he cleared out in a hurry—he knows we’re onto him.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know what’s more irritating—that he’s being a giant pain in the ass, or that he’s so good at it because I’m the one who taught him.”

“He’ll make a mistake,” I said. “Just like last time. Wes will catch it when he does. He can’t run forever.”

“You don’t know Griffin,” Riley muttered. “But, yeah, I guess you’re right.” He shook his head. “Anyway, there’s nothing here and nothing we can do now. Let’s head back.”

I followed him out the door, back down the hall to the parking lot. A dented black Mustang with tinted windows sat in a corner space, and Riley wrenched open the door, slid inside and slammed it so hard, the car shook.

I sat down and closed my door with a little less force, then watched Riley gun the engine to life before squealing out of the hotel lot. Light from the streetlamps slid over his angry face, his jaw set, gaze glued to the windshield. Leaning back in the faux leather seat, I sighed and looked out the window. Another small Midwestern town, ordinary and indistinctive, sat beyond the glass. We’d been through so many lately, I didn’t even remember its name.

I understood Riley’s frustration. The human we were chasing, Griffin Walker, had been one of Riley’s contacts before we discovered he’d been feeding information to both Talon and St. George on the sly. Griffin was the traitor, the mole in the rogue’s network. In Las Vegas, he had sold us out to Talon, and we’d nearly been killed because of it. But worse, because of him, all of Riley’s safe houses, all the hatchlings he’d gotten out of Talon, could be in danger. We had to find him and discover what he knew and how much he had leaked to the organization. But catching one human on the run was proving more difficult than we could have imagined. This was the second time in nearly a month that we’d gotten close, only to have our elusive quarry disappear yet again.

It was beyond infuriating, but at the same time, it kept my mind off...other things. Issues I didn’t want to deal with right now. I was so busy helping Riley track down Griffin, I didn’t have time or the energy to dwell on anything else. And Riley was determined to save his underground, to keep his network safe and his hatchlings away from Talon; he was consumed with finding the traitor that had sold us out to Talon and St. George. In the days following Las Vegas, we’d barely spoken to each other about anything non-Griffin or Talon related, which was both a relief and a disappointment. If we slowed down at all I would start to remember...certain people, and I wasn’t ready to face that, yet.

Back at our own hotel, we went straight to Wes’s room and locked the bolt behind us. The human sat hunched over his laptop on the corner desk, the same position we had left him in hours earlier. He gave us a weary look as we came in and shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said before Riley could ask. “No phone calls, no new credit card transactions, bloody nothing. Trail’s gone cold, mate. Griffin is officially off the radar.”

“Dammit,” Riley growled, stalking forward. “Slimy, slippery bastard. Keep looking,” he ordered, and Wes turned back to the computer with a sigh. “We were that close, Wes. We can’t let him sneak away now.”

Rubbing my eyes, I turned away, knowing Riley and Wes would be working for a couple hours at least. Wes practically lived in front of a screen, and Riley’s anger would keep him going, but this constant breakneck pace was starting to get to me. “All right, you two have fun,” I said, moving toward the door. “I’m going to crash until you need me.”