Sawyer was uncharacteristically nervous as she stood in the lobby of her apartment building, wiping her sweating palms on the skirt of her dress. She peeked out the glass, up and down the curb littered with double parked cars. She had no idea what to expect from the man picking her up. She knew what he looked like and what he had told her, but that was the extent of it.

Why did I even agree to this? she asked herself. Are you out of your mind? You need to call a friend and let them know where you’re going in case you end up “missing” or some shit. This is very bad. Very, very bad, Sawyer!

No sooner did the thought pass than a stretch limo appear, gleaming an unnatural white against the rundown neighborhood, and Sawyer cringed as she realized it was there for her.

Ugh. I can’t get into a limo wearing this! she thought, glancing down at herself. I’ll stain the diamond interior. It was one of the only two dresses she owned, and it was the fancier of them: a simple strapless mini-dress, black and boring. She had no interest in standing out in any crowd, donning a pair of three-inch heels after half an hour of switching between them and flats.

The vehicle stopped before her, and reluctantly, Sawyer made her way down the broken steps of the entranceway toward the car, her breaths catching slightly as the driver made his way around.

“Good afternoon, miss.”

“Hi,” she offered dully, straining her eyes to look through the tinted glass. Of course, the action was futile, and she saw no one until the door opened and she was staring at the older man inside.

“Sawyer!” the familiar stranger called happily from his seat along the windows. “You look lovely.”

Sawyer nodded, swallowing her anxiety as she slid inside, the backs of her naked thighs touching the coolness of the leather.

“I feel a little underdressed,” she blurted out, her olive cheeks staining crimson. “And I don’t know your name.”

He chuckled as the door closed behind her and leaned forward to extend a well-manicured hand. Again, she glimpsed the tattoo on the inside of his wrist, half-covered by the cuff of a powder blue shirt.

“You are dressed charmingly, and it is my fault you don’t know my name. I usually have better manners than that.” His smile widened.

“Well? Do I get to know it now?” she asked, staring at his hand before accepting it hastily.

“Vander. Vander Kinrade.”

“Really?” She hadn’t meant to sound so dubious, but it seemed impossible that the older gay man in the ridiculously overpriced suit—sporting a walking cane, no less—had such a pretentious name.

“Yes,” he laughed, amused by her expression. “That is truly my name.”

“I—I’m sorry,” Sawyer said quickly, lowering her dark eyes in embarrassment. “It’s a great name.”

“I imagine you’ve taken some flak for your own name,” Vander commented, the smile still on his emaciated face. “Sawyer for a girl seems rare.”

“It was my grandfather’s name, and the ultrasound lied,” she explained, realizing that she was babbling. The limo glided through traffic as if it was not a city block long, and she could barely see the driver in the distance between them.

“The ultrasound lied?” he echoed. “What does that mean?”

“It means they bought a whole bunch of baseball gloves and painted the nursery blue.”

“They thought you were going to be a boy?” Vander asked, sounding surprised. “That must have been quite a shock.”

“The real shock was when my mother didn’t survive the birth.” Sawyer’s own mouth fell open, and she stared at her date, dumbfounded by her own crassness. “Jesus Christ!” she cursed. “I—I don’t know where the hell that came from. I’m sorry! I act like such an idiot when I’m nervous!”

Vander shrugged nonchalantly. “People tell me that I have a very open way about me. I like to think that makes me a good listener.”

“Or maybe I’m just an asshole,” Sawyer muttered, wishing the floor would open up and engulf her whole. “Please, just forget I said that.” She stared at her hands, trying to think of something lighthearted and funny to say, but nothing came to mind, and she sat miserably, unable to meet Vander’s intelligent gray eyes.

“You know, Sawyer, there’s a reason that we have all been brought together for this cause,” he told her.

“The Order, you mean?”

“Yes, The Order.”

Hesitatingly, she lifted her head and looked at him curiously.

“We’re all freaks?” she offered, and again, she was aghast at her word choice. I need to stop talking, like, right now! she yelled to herself. Do not open your mouth again!

“In a manner of speaking,” Vander agreed. “We are all damaged in our own ways.”

What a cliché. Everyone is damaged. No one can claim a perfect life. What a crock of shit. Somehow, that burst of thought remained in her head, where it belonged.

“What party are we going to?” Sawyer asked, determined to change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about The Order. If she was stupid enough to agree to this random encounter, she was going to have fun. After all, when was she ever going to get a chance to hang out with the super-rich again?

“A designer friend of mine is having a show,” Vander replied in a manner that Sawyer found somewhat evasive. “It should be interesting.”

The car continued onto I-24, merging onto I-40, and Sawyer found her curiosity growing.

“Where does this friend live?” she asked suspiciously, wondering what kind of designer resided in the middle of nowhere. The only thing she could think of was that the party was at the airport…

Oh, my God! Where is he taking me? A pang of fear coursed through her body as she glanced at the stoic man, who remained fixated on her with inquisitive eyes.

“Well?” she demanded. “Where are we going?”

“The airport.”

“What? No way!” Sawyer yelled, lunging forward, her chocolate eyes flashing in fury. “I didn’t agree to go on a plane!”

“Just relax, Sawyer. There is no reason to be upset. We’re only going to a party,” Vander intoned, his calm voice grating on her nerves.

“A party where?” Her tone had raised three octaves, and her eyes darted around the limo, seeking an out. How could she escape safely? She was in a car coasting down the interstate at sixty miles an hour. There was no stopping until they reached their destination.

“New York City,” Vander responded, and Sawyer gaped at him.

“New York City,” she repeated, her eyes wide. Then she sank back into the seat, her heart pounding as the realization dawned on him. “The fires,” she mumbled. “It wasn’t my imagination.”

“No. I’m afraid not.”

Sawyer exhaled slowly, her mind spinning with the revelation. She shook her silken hair, the long layers falling across her face to partially hide her features.

“No,” she said flatly. “No, I can’t do this again. Not after with what happened in France.”

“What happened with Jericho should have never happened.”

“Oh, no?” Sawyer spat, venom and hurt singing her words. “He wasn’t supposed to die? That wasn’t part of the plan?”

“I know how upsetting it all was for you, Sawyer,” Vander said quietly. “I know you and Jericho were very close.”

Her gaze narrowed. What do you know about me and Jericho? she wondered furiously. What do you know about anything?

“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?” she sighed. “I was going to find out one way or another.”

Vander eyed her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said innocently. “We’re going to a party, just as I said.”

Sawyer scoffed lightly, folding her arms over her chest. She understood now why he had picked her up so early. The flight to New York was three hours. “Whatever you say. You can drag me anywhere you want, Mr. Kinrade, but I’m not getting involved in The Order again.”

He nodded understandingly. “And you should know by now that we would never do anything to coerce you into working with us. If you wanted to continue using your immeasurable skills in our organization, you know we could always use your help, but if not…”

He trailed off, and Sawyer felt a smidgen of guilt touch her gut. She would be foolish to think that she had not played a major hand in finding the dragons in France.

Dragon, she reminded herself. You found one dragon. There has never been proof that there were more. Well, not definitive proof.

To date, she was the only one known to have brought down one of the beasts, although it had been a collective effort to find the cave where he had been hiding.

The cave where Jericho lost his life.

The grimace at the memory was apparent on her face, and a look of compassion fell on Vander’s.

“I swear,” he promised. “Tonight is only about enjoying ourselves. If you choose to stay with me in New York, I welcome your insights, Sawyer. You’ve done our group a great service thus far at a great detriment to your own wellbeing. But if you want to go home, I will have my jet bring you back in the morning.”

His jet? He’s going to bring me to New York on his private plane. You’ve never even seen what a private plane looks like. Not even in a magazine. Maybe in a movie—

“In the morning? Oh, no! I can’t go with you!” she realized, her eyes bugging as the limo steered off the interstate and toward the airport.

He stared at her pensively. “You don’t believe I’ll return you?”

“It’s not that,” she sighed. “I have a dog.”

“J.J., right? Janis Joplin? I like that a lot.”

“You know my dog’s name?” Sawyer gasped dubiously. “What the hell?”

Vander grinned enigmatically. “I have been following you very closely since you joined The Order.”

“I haven’t joined The Order!” Sawyer growled. “I… spent some time inside the group.”

His smile faltered slightly, and he sighed.

“That’s disappointing to hear,” he replied. “I had come to think of you as one of our most valuable members.” Sawyer blinked at the unexpected compliment, but she kept her guard firmly in place.

“I already told you, Mr. Kinrade, I’m not doing this. You’ll have to find someone else to help you. And I have to get home to my dog. Tonight.”

Vander nodded slowly. “You’ve got a good sense of honor and responsibility,” he commented. “Especially since the dog is your dad’s and not yours.”

“Well, my dad is dead, and I’m not about to euthanize a perfectly healthy animal by putting her in a shelter.” She didn’t mention the offers her former neighbors had made to take in the dog. He knows enough personal shit about me as it is.

“I’ve already made arrangements to have J.J. babysat.”

“Wha—how?” she gasped, unsure if she was impressed or horrified. “Is someone in my apartment right now?”

“She’s a member of The Order,” Vander assured her, and Sawyer was not sure if that made it better or worse. “She owns a doggy daycare, so if you should choose to stay on, J.J. will be well cared for in your absence.”

“How long have you been planning this?” Sawyer demanded, a slight dizziness overcoming her as she realized that she had been under surveillance. I’m usually smarter than this, more aware. How did I not notice that someone’s been watching my every move for months?

She admitted that she probably had not cared one way or another. The past year had been more about retreating further into her heartache than anything. She probably wouldn’t have noticed if a camera fell out of the sky and landed on her head.

“I’m not staying,” she muttered, shifting her eyes away from Vander’s face, but even as she heard the words, she didn’t believe herself. If there were more dragons out there, they were just as dangerous as the one they had gotten in France. If they were responsible for what was happening in New York—for the fires—it showed that they were growing bolder, and they needed to be stopped before anyone else got hurt or killed.

“As I said, Sawyer, tonight is for entertainment and fine company only. Tomorrow you can decide what you want to do.”

But Sawyer didn’t believe a word he said. She didn’t have a choice, and Vander knew it.

She had made her bed from the minute she had learned about The Order and sealed her fate the second they went poking around in that cave. And when she had mounted the enraged beast, the garrote wire cutting into her hands, decapitating the monster who had killed her lover, she had written her destiny.

I hope J.J. gets along with the other dogs, she thought miserably as the limo stopped. I’m not going to be home for a while.