Talon. Julie Kagawa

spent most of his time out in the sun and the rest at the gym. And his eyes. They were the brightest shade of gray I’d ever seen. Not silvery, more...gunmetal. Metallic. They pinned me with a vivid stare, and my heart leaped as he extended a hand. “You okay?”

      I nodded. “Yeah,” I almost whispered. Making sure my digits were free of scary-looking claws, I placed my hand in his, and he gently pulled me upright. Those brilliant eyes gazed into mine, and my stomach danced. “Thanks.”

      “What the hell!”

      Colin had leaped to his feet and was stalking toward us, his friends in tow. They did not look friendly or charming now. But then, another stranger appeared, taller than my rescuer and just as fit. He had short black hair and midnight-blue eyes, and his lips were curled in a dangerous smirk as he stepped up beside us. Colin and the others halted at his arrival, no longer outnumbering the new boy three to one, and everyone stared at one another for a moment.

      “Well.” The other stranger’s voice dripped sarcasm, and he raised an eyebrow at the three goons in front of him. “Yet another fine example of evolution in reverse. Good thing we decided to take a walk, huh, Garret? We would’ve missed the monkey show.”

      The light-haired boy, Garret, didn’t move, but his mouth twitched into a grim smile. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

      “Who asked you?” Apparently, Colin had recovered, though not enough to come up with anything witty. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped forward, and Garret deftly moved me behind him. “You’re messing with my girl, kid,” Colin said, his face pulled into an ugly scowl. “This ain’t your business. Get lost, before we send you to the E.R.”

      “I’m not yours!” I snapped before either of them could reply. “And if you bring that nasty, slobbery excuse for a mouth anywhere near me again, I’ll kick you where the sun don’t shine!”

      Colin blinked, possibly too thick to realize what I meant by that, but the gray-eyed boy in front of me chuckled. It sounded...rusty, somehow. Out of practice, as if he didn’t laugh very often and I had surprised it out of him.

      His friend snickered, too. “Sounds like she doesn’t want you around anymore,” he said as Colin swelled with outrage. “At least, that’s how it looks to me. What do you think, Garret?”

      Garret’s voice went cold, soft and lethal. “I think they need to leave. Now.”

      Colin lunged, swinging a savage fist at his smaller opponent. I jumped, but Garret somehow caught the arm and twisted it so that Colin flipped over and landed square on his back in the sand, his breath leaving his lungs in a startled oof! I blinked in shock, and Colin’s friends gave howls of fury and leaped into the fray.

      I scrambled back, retreating with Kristin and Lexi, away from the sudden brawl. I wanted to help; my dragon was urging me to get in there and start blasting away, but of course I couldn’t do that. Besides, the two strangers were doing fine on their own. I didn’t know if they took some kind of martial art, or if they were just badasses, because they dodged, blocked and countered punches with no problem, moving seamlessly with and around each other. The dark-haired stranger blocked a vicious hook, lunged in and drove his knee into his opponent’s stomach, bending him over. Garret ducked a nasty right cross, then returned with a fist under the chin, snapping the other’s head back. I whooped in encouragement.

      In a few short seconds, the scuffle was over. The taller stranger landed a blow across his opponent’s jaw that sent him crumpling to the sand, and Garret caught Colin in the temple with a savage elbow, knocking him down. Colin tried to get up, failed and slumped back, cradling his head.

      Straightening, the two boys looked at their fallen opponents, then back at us. The dark-haired one grinned. “Well, that was entertaining,” he said dryly, rubbing his knuckles. “Reminds me of so many good times we’ve had together, right, cousin?” The other boy shook his head and turned to me.

      “Do you need a ride?” he asked in his quiet voice, and for some reason, those bright gray eyes sent another quiver through my stomach. “We can take you home, or back to the main beach, if you like. I promise we’re much better behaved than these idiots. Even Tristan over there.”

      The other boy sniffed. “I’m not even going to dignify that statement by taking offense.”

      I shook myself, needing to stay focused as Lexi and Kristin looked a bit shell-shocked. Lexi clung to me, shaking, and Kristin stared wide-eyed at the bodies sprawled in the sand. “Back to the main beach would be perfect,” I told Garret.

      He gave a somber nod, but at that moment, Colin groaned and staggered to his feet. He swayed, glaring poison at the two strangers, then, shockingly, turned his furious gaze on me. “You bitch,” he spat, and Lexi gasped with outrage. “You West Coasters are all the same. You ask for it, beg for it, then refuse to put out. You’re nothing but a whore! You’re nothing but a slut—”

      Releasing Lexi, I straightened, marched up to the reeling jock, and kicked him where the sun didn’t shine.

      “That’s for stealing my first kiss,” I told him as he made a strangled noise and dropped to the sand again, clutching his groin. I didn’t know if it was really that important, but all the movies seemed to think it was, and besides, he didn’t know how easy he’d gotten off. I turned to the strangers, both staring at me in amazement now, and raised my chin. “Well? Are we leaving or not? I think we’re more than done here.”

      Garret

      We drove to the main beach, Tristan and I in the front, our three passengers and a surfboard in the backseat. The girls, especially the blonde and the brunette, talked consistently in excited, high-pitched voices, speaking so quickly it was difficult to follow the conversation. Not that I was trying very hard. I already knew a lot about these girls, beginning with their names. Kristin Duff and Alexis Thompson I remembered from the long hours spent watching their group, learning their routines and their habits. And, of course, Ember Hill. I knew several facts about her, too. She was sixteen. She knew how to surf. She spent a lot of evenings at the Smoothie Hut with her friends. But nothing could have prepared me for this afternoon, when she had marched right up to the bigger, heavier frat boy, and kicked him “where the sun don’t shine.”

      At the time, it had been amusing, though I had been too stunned to do more than wince. Tristan had cackled like a hyena. But looking back, I cursed myself for not reacting, for just standing there as Ember Hill marched up to that civilian and slammed her foot between his legs. Not that the boorish frat boy didn’t deserve it, but my hesitation could have gotten us killed. For just an instant, with her eyes flashing and her lips curled back in a snarl, I’d thought the girl was our target. That her slender body would ripple and explode into a mass of hissing teeth, claws and scales before she bit the civilian’s head off. And that we would be next, because I had foolishly left my Glock in the Jeep and had nothing to defend myself from a raging, fire-breathing dragon except my flip-flops.

      Ember Hill, I mused, turning her name over in my head. The signs were all there: her status, her arrival in Crescent Beach, even her name. Everything about her pointed to a possible sleeper, except for one thing.

      She had a brother. A twin, in fact. And despite their wealth, power, influence and global domination, our enemies only produced one offspring at a time. Dragons did not have siblings, but Ember and Dante Hill were definitely brother and sister. They were comfortable with each other; they argued and teased and fought like normal siblings, but they also looked out for the other, stood up for each other even to their friends. It was obvious they had grown up together. And they looked too alike not to be related. Which meant, despite her fierceness and fiery demeanor, the red-haired girl in the backseat could not be our sleeper.

      She seemed perfectly human now, talking excitedly to her friends, sometimes asking me or Tristan a question when the other two let up. All three were extremely curious, wanting to know our ages, where we lived, if we were residents of Crescent Beach or just visiting. I didn’t speak much, letting Tristan fill them in on our fabricated history: that he and I were cousins, that his dad’s job had brought us to Crescent Beach