“Mallory!” I reached out my hand, but she waved me off.

“I’m getting up!” she said. “Keep going!”

I turned my head back to the rising bridge—to check the incline I was fighting against—for only a second. And then she was moving past me, screaming. The dragon had caught up to us and snatched at her; she’d evaded its teeth, but the tip of one wing snagged Mallory’s shirt and was pulling her forward.

“Mallory!” I screamed, reaching out a hand as ice chilled my blood.

And then she disappeared over the edge.

Panic ate at me, cold fear its own dragon in my belly, but I pushed it down, focused on inching my way up the incline, now nearly vertical.

I was sweating when I reached the edge of the roadway. I slung an elbow over the end, and spied her rainbow-painted fingernails. She hung by her hands from one of the bridge’s structural beams.

“Mallory!” I screamed, and stretched out my hand as the dragon reached the other end of the bridge, banked hard to avoid the buildings on Wacker, and turned to take another shot at us. We were going to have to be fast. “Give me your hand.”

Mallory shook her head, staring at her fingers, as if she could strengthen them by sheer force of will. “I’m slipping.”

“I won’t let you fall.” But she was a good two feet beneath me. I had to get closer, and that meant climbing toward her.

I made the mistake of looking down, watching light shimmer across the water so, so far below us. I could make a planned fall from a pretty tall height—at least onto land. The river’s eddied surface was something else entirely.

Eyes gleaming in the darkness, the dragon bulleted toward me.

I forced myself to ignore the void, ducking under the roadway just in time to hear the creature’s nails screech against asphalt, the thunder of its wings as it lifted again.

“You ever wonder why they call it a death grip?” Mallory asked, as I moved down among the steel beams.

At least the bridge gave us some protection from the dragon, which screamed somewhere above us, furious that we’d spoiled its fun.

“I mean, you hold on because you’re gripping life, right?” She blew bangs from her eyes. “Shouldn’t it be a life grip?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you get a little loopy when you’re in mortal danger?”

“I’m gonna be honest,” she said in a hysterical tone. “This isn’t the first time.”

My foot slipped on wet steel, but I caught myself, squeezed my hands so hard the knuckles were white against the railing.

“Merit, oh Jesus, Merit, I’m slipping.”

“I’m nearly there, Mallory. You’re doing great.”

“Hurry, Merit. Please.”

Her fingers disappeared as I pitched forward—and just managed to wrap fingers around her wrist.

She managed to bite back the scream, but I could see the terror in her eyes.

“Oh God, Merit.” Her feet dangled above the river. “Oh God.”

“You’re going to be just fine. Remember how strong I am,” I said, keeping a pleasant smile on my face. But strength wasn’t the issue. Water was the issue. The slip of my boots on steel wet from melting snow, the slip of her skin in mine from the resulting humidity.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“I’m going to pull you up on three,” I said. “One, two . . .”

I didn’t wait for three. I dug my heels into the frame and dug my nails into her skin, convinced that if I managed to get us out of this, she’d forgive me for the pain. I yanked her up with every ounce of strength I could muster, pulling until she was beside me.

She rested her head against mine. “I thought that was it. I thought that was the end of me.”

“You think I’m going to just let you go? No, thank you.”

She kissed the side of my head, then spat out grit. “You need a shower.”

“You don’t look so good yourself, friend.”

“Rude.”

“It’s going to get ruder.” I gestured up. “We have to climb back to the roadway.”

“And then what?”

The dragon roared, and the bridge shook with it.

“And then we get the hell underground.”

• • •

We waited until the dragon banked again, then scrambled back onto the road, where we sat for a moment with legs dangling over the asphalt. The lights were still flashing at the end of the bridge, but the ship had passed through. They’d be closing the bridge again soon.

“Suggestions?” Mallory said.

“Yes,” I said as the creature turned back toward us. “I’m not going to be taken out by a lizard.” I put her arm around my neck, put a hand around her waist. “We’re going down the easy way.”

“The easy way?” She looked over the rail to the Riverwalk that lined the bank of the river some hundred feet below. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

The dragon was pissed that we’d survived, its wings beating angrily against the sky, its scream a symphony of fury.

“Hold on,” I said. “And you might want to close your eyes.”

She huffed out three hard breaths like a woman in labor. “Go. Just go and do it before I change my mind.”

I held on to her, took a breath, and took the leap.

Time passed weirdly in midair, so it felt less like we were jumping than like we were simply stepping down. Except for the screaming in my ear.

When we landed with a soft bounce, Mallory slitted open one eye, glanced down at her legs.

“Completely intact,” I said. “Unlike my eardrums.”

Mallory opened both eyes and looked at me. “Merit,” she said a little breathlessly. “You’re kind of a badass.”

“About damn time you figured that out,” I said, and I didn’t wait for her retort.

The dragon flew along the river and tried to snap at us, but couldn’t get close enough. We ran up the steps and flew across Wacker, where I dragged her into the stairwell as the dragon crashed behind us, teeth snapping as it tried to push its way underground, breaking off concrete and tile with every movement.

We kept running until the stairway was out of sight, stood huddled together until the dragon stopped screaming. The earth above us shook as it searched us out.

“I hate lizards,” Mallory said, wiping brick dust and grime and tears from her face.

“Yeah,” I said, glancing up at the blocked stairway. “I do, too.”

• • •

We were bloody, dirty, and torn by the time we walked back toward Cadogan House. And unlike the last time, a Guard vehicle was parked outside the House, and soldiers with very large guns stood beside the humans we’d hired to guard the gate.

“I could guess they’re providing security in case the dragon comes here. But that seems . . . unrealistic,” Mallory finished.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

We walked inside, found Ethan in his office in a clean shirt, tidy jeans. He, Catcher, and Malik were checking their phones, probably wondering where we were.

They looked up when we entered, expressions shifting from gratitude to bafflement.

“How do you look so clean?” I asked Ethan.

“We found a gypsy cab and got a ride home.” He stared at Mallory and me, took in another day of torn and dirty clothes. “Why do you not look clean?” he asked, putting away his phone and walking toward us. “What the hell happened to you two?”

“We were chased by a goddamn dragon through the streets of goddamn Chicago,” Mallory said, pushing past the men toward the beverage area. I had a sense she was headed for booze.

Ethan arched an eyebrow. “Long night, Sentinel?”

I handed Ethan my sword, my scabbard, and followed Mallory to the bar. “Bite me.”

Mallory snorted as she poured liquor into glasses.

“What’s with the guard at the door?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Mallory said. “They keeping the dragon out, or the vampires in?”

“The latter,” Catcher said. “Part of the mayor’s efforts to work with the Guard and keep the ‘situation’ from escalating. There are soldiers posted at Grey and Navarre, too.”