Dragon princesses don’t have fangs, claws, or poison. They don’t survive under impossible conditions or live in places where they won’t be bothered. They don’t burn—you could take a blowtorch to a dragon princess and all you’d do is piss her off—but there isn’t much call for the asbestos blonde.

The thing is, dragons didn’t go extinct. They were made extinct by the Covenant, since no one was really keen on sharing their living space with a giant fire-breathing lizard. That was long before either the Healys or the Prices left the Covenant, and it turns out dragon princesses carry a grudge as well as the dragons supposedly did. Maybe even better. Ninety percent of the world’s cryptid population have forgiven us for what our family used to be, focusing instead on what we’ve become: advocates, allies, and sometimes the only humans willing to put themselves in danger to save a cryptid life. The dragon princesses focus on what we used to be.

Killers.

I tossed my backpack into my locker and grabbed my spare uniform off the top shelf. I heard Candy shift in her seat, no doubt so she could keep watching me in the mirror. She didn’t like being alone in a room with me, largely because she seemed convinced I’d flip out and try to kill her at any moment. There were times when I was tempted, usually when she cleared one of my tables and they “mysteriously” failed to leave a tip, but my parents raised me to be tolerant of the racial quirks of our cryptid neighbors. In Candy’s case, that meant she’d need to be a lot bitchier before I wasted a bullet on her.

After fluffing the pleats on my skirt into their appropriate jailbait-esque configuration, I turned and asked, “Is Dave in his office?”

“Please. Like he’d leave it during the day?” Candice twisted to eye me suspiciously. “Why?”

There were a lot of possible answers to that question, starting with “like I’d tell you?” and going downhill from there. Sadly, protecting the cryptid population of Manhattan was at the core of my mission statement, and that meant I had to at least pretend to give a damn about Candy’s welfare. Even if I didn’t want to.

“I ran into a man from the Covenant last night while I was making my rounds. He seemed like he was planning to stick around for a while. Thought I’d check with Dave, see whether he knew anything about our new neighbor.”

Candy’s normally milk-and-roses complexion went waxen as her eyes widened until they looked like they were going to fall out of her head. Composing herself with a visible effort, she licked her lips and said, “You—you’re lying.”

“Sorry. Wish I was.” I shrugged. “His name’s Dominic De Luca. I already called my folks, and Dad sent me the intel on his family. They’re old school Covenant. Guy looks like he’s legit.”

“I … no. No, you have to be wrong.” She stood, scattering cosmetics as she fumbled for balance against the dressing room counter. “The Covenant doesn’t come here anymore.”

“The Covenant comes when it’s time for a purge, same as they come everywhere else.”

Her eyes widened again, but only for a few seconds; then they narrowed, fury suddenly radiating from her expression. “This is your fault,” she spat. “You and your goddamn family couldn’t just stay on the West Coast until they hunted you down, could you? And now they’ve followed you here. Well, I hope you’re happy, Verity. I just hope you’re happy.”

“Candy—”

She didn’t give me time to finish the sentence. Ripping off her apron, she flung it on the floor between us and turned to stalk out of the room. I sighed. On the plus side, she was probably on her way to warn the rest of her Nest that the Covenant was in town. On the negative, out of the city’s three dozen or so dragon princesses, she was the one I probably had the best relationship with. The rest of them wouldn’t just blame my family; they’d blame me personally.

This day was getting better and better, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Who knew what wonders were lurking on the other side of the lunch rush? Leaving Candy’s apron on the dressing room floor, I turned to follow her path out to the hall. It was past time to have a little chat with my boss.

Dave’s darks were on again, making it impossible to tell whether he was in the office while I was standing in the hall. I decided to take a chance on Candy’s information being accurate and strode into the blackness with my chin held high and my shoulders pushed back, like I was making my entrance to the stage before a competition tango. Always wow the people you’re up against with confidence, that’s the family motto. Well, that, and “always count your ammo before agreeing to a firefight.”

Walking into a dark office that might or might not contain a bogeyman definitely didn’t fall under the heading of “ten smartest things I have ever done.” It might be somewhere in the top thirty, but that’s because I had an abnormally interesting time as a teenager. It probably looked like stupid bravado, and it probably was, to a degree. That’s why I had a knife in either hand by the time I cleared the doorway, ready to fling them at the slightest provocation.

It was normally possible to take eight steps into Dave’s office without banging into anything. I stopped after six; far enough to make it clear that I wasn’t bluffing, but not far enough that I risked whacking my knee on his desk and ruining the effect.

“Dave? We need to talk.”

There was a brief pause before Dave’s voice hissed out of the black, sounding puzzled and a little excited. “Why, Verity Price, how very … very of you. Have you finally decided that the time is ripe to have a proper play date?”

“Turn off the darks, Dave. We need to talk.”

“So you say, so you say, but you came into my lair without demanding safe passage through the light. An interesting choice for a girl who says she doesn’t care for shadows.”

I yawned, not bothering to cover my mouth. “Blah, blah, blah, you’re very scary, oh, I’m trembling. I came in without telling you to turn off the darks because I wanted you to actually believe that I was serious when I said you needed to listen to me. We have a deal. Part of it involves me not hunting you.”

“And?” There was caution under the excitement now, as logic overrode his instincts.

I flung a knife into the darkness, aiming for a spot a foot to the left of where Dave’s head would normally be. I heard it hit the wall. “And if you insist on giving in to your nature and spooking me, I’m going to have to give in to my nature, and hunt you. Darks, Dave. Talk, Dave. Now, Dave.”