“Dressing as a cultist? Do you have no respect? No basic human dignity? My husband was killed by dragons, killed!” the red-dress lady howled, beating at Leo with her purse.

Leo backed away slowly, hands protectively curled over his head. He didn’t fight back, but merely cowered away, his whole body shivering. The purse didn’t seem to be hurting him, but…

Jet rolled his eyes. Right, I nearly forgot. Leo is afraid of humans.

“Leo! Over here!” he shouted.

Leo turned, then bolted to Jet’s side and hid behind him. The lady in red charged after him, but paused as Jet rested a hand on his sword. He gave her a meaningful look. Beat my friend one more time. I dare you.

She drew herself up and harrumphed. “Protecting that classless idiot? He should be thrown out of the ball for such blatant disrespect!”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, Leo meant nothing by it. He borrowed the costume and meant no harm,” Jet replied. He even protested it, but what were we supposed to do? Ravenna’s terrifying. She could kill us all with the wave of a hand.

“Think of it as a joke,” Gideon added.

“A joke? You think dragons are a joke?” the woman replied.

Gideon frowned at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Humans are the joke. Dragons are the punchline.”

“You—you think my first husband’s death was a joke?” the woman spluttered.

Gideon shrugged. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there. Was it funny?”

The lady drew back her purse. “You—you—”

“Oh hell yeah, I thought this was going to be the boring kind of party,” Gideon enthused. Sparks floated through his hair and around his hands, his eyes suddenly glowing gold.

“Gideon,” Jet said warningly, lifting the pendant.

“Jet,” Gideon replied the same exact way, eyebrows raised to indicate he didn’t care.

“Oh my, if it isn’t Lady Irene,” Ravenna purred, appearing behind them in full dragon attire.

The lady in red suddenly turned horribly red herself, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her fingers. Veins stood out above her mask, and she jabbed a finger at Ravenna. Narrowing her eyes, she hissed. “You—you—you dragon-loving traitor! One day, I’ll expose you for what you are. One day!”

“Oh my, oh my. But I love humans the most,” Ravenna said innocently, fluttering her lashes at Lady Irene. Something about the way she said it suggested more of a favorite pet than protector of mankind kind of love.

“Just you wait,” Lady Irene spat through clenched teeth. She spun with a harrumph and marched off across the ballroom floor.

Ravenna chuckled, shaking her head at Irene’s back. “It’s too easy to tease her. Sometimes I almost feel bad about it.”

Leo took a step after Lady Irene, reaching out toward her back. At the last second, his hand fell short, and he sagged, his head bowed.

“Don’t feel bad about it, dear. She’s had four husbands now, and not a one lasted longer than five years. Most barely make the year. Her hatred of dragons is more a… hmm, convenient excuse than an earnest hatred,” Ravenna assured him.

Leo looked at her with watery, sad eyes and shook his head.

Putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder, Jet nodded. “I understand. It’s not that it’s her in particular, but the idea that you were part of an organization that did so much harm, no, Leo?”

Leo nodded. He sniffed and scrubbed at his face, frustrated.

“After we figure out this mess with the Dragon King, we can go around and squash all the dragon cults. How does that sound?” Jet suggested. Goodness knows I’ll need some stress relief after dealing with Gideon for so long. Might as well accomplish something while I’m at it.

Leo’s eyes brightened, but only for a moment. They clouded again, and he gave Jet an uncertain frown.

“Ooh, dragon killing? Count me in,” Gideon said, drifting into the conversation.

Leo glanced at Gideon, then pointed and shook his head, pointing at himself.

“Oh. You’re afraid there’s other dragons like you, who don’t know anything but are trapped by the cult? Well… I don’t know how many will listen to us, but if any do, we can ask them first. It’s not like I’m in love with dragon-killing,” Jet said, shrugging.

“Boo. Dragon-killing, dragon-killing,” Gideon cheered.

“We know you are, Gideon, thanks,” Jet replied.

Leo hesitated, then nodded. He put his hand on Jet’s for just a moment to confirm it. Unlike before, his hand was cool and almost damp to the touch.

Jet looked at his hand, then touched Gideon’s neck. A faint static shock leaped from his skin to Jet’s fingers.

“The hell,” Gideon asked, rubbing his neck. “Jet, I didn’t know we were that intimate already. Neck-touching? That’s practically third base.”

Ignoring him, Jet rubbed his fingers together. Huh. I wonder if that’s a lingering effect after they transform, to have their element surround them for a while? Then, Ravenna should be chilly…

He turned over his shoulder and looked at Ravenna, who smiled at him. Instantly, Jet came to his senses and retracted his hand.

…Well, it’ll have to remain a hypothesis for now!

“How is neck-touching third base?” Angel asked, coming up behind them with Elly in tow.

“Metaphorically,” Gideon replied.

Angel frowned at him. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, once you consider—”

Jet clapped his hands to bring the discussion to an end before it could get more off-track. “Has anyone seen any sign of assassins?”

“Nope,” Gideon said.

Leo shook his head.

The girls glanced at one another, then shrugged. “I mean, they’re assassins, right? It’s not like they’re going to be all in black, walking around with a sign around their neck screaming ‘I’m an assassin!’” Angel pointed out.

A man all in skintight black stalked by, veil pulled up to his eyes and a cloth covering his hair, eyes narrowed and fingers brushing the knives at his waist. He slipped through the crowd, edging closer to the throne.

“I… take that back,” Angel said, flabbergasted.

Ravenna chuckled. “My kin aren’t particularly good at, shall I say… subtlety? It’s half of why I find them so tiresome, quite honestly.”

Jet chased after the man, Gideon hot on his heels. Seeing the two of them go, Leo, Angel, and Elly quickly followed after.

“At last, dragon-killing!” Gideon said, all smiles. He stroked his real tome, as pleased as a cat with a rat.