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Talon
Julie Kagawa


�There are a dozen soldiers hiding in that maze. All hunting you. All looking to kill you.’To the outside world Ember Hill is an ordinary girl, but Ember has a deadly secret. A dragon hiding in human form, she is destined to fight the shadowy Order of St. George, a powerful society of dragonslayers.St. George soldier Garret is determined to kill Ember and her kind. Until her bravery makes him question all he’s been taught about dragons.Now a war is coming and Garret and Ember must choose their sides – fight to save their bond or fulfil their fate and destroy one another.�The first in a new series, Talon leaves readers perfectly balanced between satisfaction and anticipation’ – BookPage�Kagawa knows just how to end a first volume for maximum cliff-hanger drama’ – Booklist�A strong, promising start to the Talon Saga’ – Publishers Weekly







In Julie Kagawa’s groundbreaking modern fantasy series, dragons walk among us in human form.

Long ago, dragons were hunted to near extinction by the Order of St. George, a legendary society of dragon slayers. Hiding in human form and growing their numbers in secret, the dragons of Talon have become strong and cunning, and they’re positioned to take over the world with humans none the wiser.

Ember and Dante Hill are the only sister and brother known to dragonkind. Trained to infiltrate society, Ember wants to live the teen experience and enjoy a summer of freedom before taking her destined place in Talon. But destiny is a matter of perspective, and a rogue dragon will soon challenge everything Ember has been taught. As Ember struggles to accept her future, she and her brother are hunted by the Order of St. George.

Soldier Garret Xavier Sebastian has a mission to seek and destroy all dragons, and Talon’s newest recruits in particular. But he cannot kill unless he is certain he has found his prey—and nothing is certain about Ember Hill. Faced with Ember’s bravery, confidence and all-too-human desires, Garret begins to question everything that the Order has ingrained in him—and what he might be willing to give up to find the truth about dragons.


Books by Julie Kagawa available from HQ (#ulink_f9ad8976-bf10-52e7-9d29-b723cd9797ff)

The Talon Saga

Talon

Blood of Eden series

(in reading order)

The Immortal Rules

The Eternity Cure

The Forever Song

The Iron Fey series

(in reading order)

The Iron King*

“Winter’s Passage”** (ebook novella)

The Iron Daughter*

The Iron Queen

“Summer’s Crossing”** (ebook novella)

The Iron Knight

“Iron’s Prophecy”** (ebook novella)

The Lost Prince

The Iron Traitor

*Also available in The Iron Fey Volume One anthology

**Also available in print in The Iron Legends anthology, along with the exclusive Guide to the Iron Fey


Talon

Julie Kagawa







To Laurie and Tashya, who dreamed of dragons with me.


Contents

Cover (#ud6cefba1-d1aa-52d1-9dc9-77a261c30201)

Back Cover Text (#uc6819a81-3062-5ecc-85c6-6ea57edcb19c)

Booklist (#ulink_8fc372ef-e456-58be-9f69-84aff55ff4c8)

Title Page (#u22a5023b-8c75-5fb9-8360-54e869f06a66)

Dedication (#u724141be-9a90-52a3-bc00-cb53e022aabf)

As One, We Rise (#ulink_4e2a2cfc-92aa-5bb3-8f6f-95ba2b21e00b)

Part I (#ulink_637c946c-b0a4-502a-a492-06594221e597)

Part II (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgments (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


As One, We Rise (#ulink_ed902512-93bf-5411-942e-92245fd5dc68)


Part I (#ulink_dfc01849-bcd8-55c3-a73d-c26f5c2f8102)

Observe. Assimilate. Blend in.

Ember

“Ember, when did your parents die, and what was the cause of death?”

I stifled a groan and tore my gaze from the car window, where the bright, sunny town of Crescent Beach shimmered beyond the tinted glass. The air in the black sedan was cold and stale and, annoyingly, the driver had engaged the child safety locks so I couldn’t roll down the window. We’d been stuck in the car for hours, and I was itching to get out of this moving prison and into the sun. Outside the glass, palm trees lined the road, and charming villas shared the sidewalk with weathered gray shacks advertising food, T-shirts, surfboard wax and more. Just beyond the pavement, past a strip of glistening white sand, the Pacific Ocean shimmered like a huge turquoise jewel, teasing me with its frothy waves and countless beachgoers splashing freely in the glittering water.

“Ember? Did you hear me? Answer the question, please.”

I sighed and settled back against the cold leather. “Joseph and Kate Hill were killed in a car accident when we were seven years old,” I recited, seeing the driver’s impassive gaze watching me from the rearview mirror. Beside him, Mr. Ramsey’s dark head bobbed in affirmation.

“Go on.”

I squirmed against the seat belt. “They had gone to see a Broadway musical, West Side Story,” I continued, “and were struck by a drunk driver on the way home. My brother and I went to live with our grandparents, until Grandpa Bill developed lung cancer and could no longer take care of us. So we came here to stay with our aunt and uncle.” I snuck a longing gaze out the window again, seeing a pair of humans on surfboards, gliding down the waves. My curiosity perked. I’d never gone surfing before, not in my dusty little corner of desert. It looked nearly as much fun as flying, though I doubted anything could compare to soaring the air currents, feeling the wind in your face and beneath your wings. I didn’t know how I was going to survive the summer completely earthborn. Humans were lucky, I thought, as the car sped on and the surfers were lost from view. They didn’t know what they were missing.

“Good,” muttered Mr. Ramsey, sounding distracted. I imagined him scanning his ever-present tablet, scrolling through our files and background. “Dante, what is your real objective while in Crescent Beach?”

My twin calmly pulled his earbuds down and hit the pause button on his iPhone. He had this uncanny ability to zone out to music or television and still know exactly what was going on around him. I did not have this talent. My teachers had to smack me upside the head to get my attention if there was anything remotely distracting around. “Observe and blend in,” he stated in his cool, unruffled voice. “Learn how to engage with humans, how to be human. Assimilate into their social structure and make them believe we are one of them.”

I rolled my eyes. He caught my gaze and gave a small shrug. Dante and I weren’t really twins, not in the truest sense of the word. Sure, we were the same age. Sure, we looked very similar; we had the same obscenely red hair and green eyes. And we’d been together as far back as I could remember. But we didn’t come from the same womb. We didn’t come from a womb at all, really. Dante and I were clutchmates, which was still highly unusual because our kind normally didn’t lay more than one egg at a time. Making us strange, even among our own. But Dante and I had hatched together and were raised together, and as far as anyone was concerned, he was my twin, my sibling and my only friend.

“Mmm.” Apparently satisfied that we had not, in fact, forgotten the made-up backstory drilled so deep into my head that I could recite it in my sleep, Mr. Ramsey went back to scrolling through his tablet, and I went back to staring out the window.

The ocean receded, the sparkling horizon dropping from view as we turned off the main stretch and entered a subdivision with impressive white-and-rose villas lining the streets, surrounded by perfectly manicured lawns and palm trees. Some of these dwellings were truly enormous, making me stare in amazement. I’d never seen such huge houses except on television, or in the documentaries the teachers made us watch years ago, when we were first learning about humankind. Where they lived, how they acted, their behavior and family units and language—we’d studied it all.

Now, we would be living among them.

Excitement rose up again, making me even more impatient. I wanted out. I wanted to touch and feel and see the things beyond the glass, to finally experience it. My world, up until now, had been a large underground facility that I never saw the outside of, then a private school in the middle of the Great Basin, with no one around for miles, and only my brother and teachers for company. Safe, protected, far from prying human eyes...and possibly the most boring spot on the face of the planet. I squirmed against the seat again, accidentally hitting the back of the chair in front of me.

“Ember,” Mr. Ramsey said, a note of irritation in his voice, “sit still.”

Scowling, I settled back, crossing my arms. Sit still, calm down, be quiet. The most familiar phrases in my life. I was never good at sitting in one place for long periods of time, though my teachers had tried their hardest to instill “a little patience” into me. Patience, stodgy Mr. Smith had told me on more than one occasion, is a virtue that holds especially true for your kind. The best-laid plans are never conceived in a day. You have the luxury of time—time to think, time to plan, time to calculate and see everything come to fruition. Talon has survived for centuries, and will continue to survive, because it knows the value of patience. So what’s the blasted hurry, hatchling?

I rolled my eyes. The “blasted hurry” was that I rarely had any time that was truly my own. They wanted me to sit, listen, learn, be quiet, when I wanted to run, shout, jump, fly. Everything in my life was rules: can’t do this, don’t do that, be here at this time, follow the instructions to the letter. It had gotten worse as I got older, every tiny detail of my life regulated and laid out for me, until I was ready to explode. The only thing that had kept me from going completely nuts was looking forward to the day I turned sixteen. The day I would “graduate” from that isolated corner of no-man’s-land and, if I was deemed ready, begin the next stage of training. I’d done everything I could to be “ready” for this, and it must’ve paid off because here we were. Observe, assimilate and blend in, that was our official mission, but all I cared about was that I was out of school and away from Talon. I’d finally get to see the world I’d studied all my life.

The sedan finally pulled into a cul-de-sac of smaller but no less elegant villas and rolled to a stop in front of a driveway in the very center. I peered through the window and grinned with excitement at the place that would be home for an indefinite length of time.

The structure looming above us sat across a tiny lawn of short grass, scrub and a single palm tree encircled in brick. Its walls were a cheerful, buttery yellow, the tiled roof a deep red. The top floor had huge glass windows that caught the afternoon light, and the front door stood beneath an archway, like the entrance to a castle, I thought. But best of all, through the gap between the house and its neighbor, I could just make out the silvery glint of water, and my heart leaped at the thought of the ocean right in our backyard.

I wanted nothing more than to yank open the door, jump out and go sprinting down the sand dunes until I hit the ocean waiting for me at the bottom. But Mr. Ramsey, our official escort for the day, turned in his seat to eye us, particularly me, as if he knew what was going through my mind. “Wait here,” he said, his rather large nostrils flaring with the order. “I will inform your guardians you have arrived. Do not move until I return.”

He opened his door, letting in a brief, intoxicating rush of warmth and salt-drenched air, slammed it behind him and marched up the worn brick path to the waiting villa.

I drummed my fingers against the leather seat and squirmed.

“Wow,” Dante breathed, peering over my shoulder, craning his neck to see the whole house. I could feel his presence behind me, his hand on my back as he steadied himself. “So, it’s finally happening,” he said in a low voice. “No more private school, no more getting up at 6:00 a.m. every single day, no more being stuck in the middle of nowhere.”

“No classes, no study hall, no evaluators dropping by every month to see how �human’ we are.” I grinned back at him. The driver was watching us, listening to us, but I didn’t care. “Sixteen years, and we finally get to start our lives. We’re finally free.”

My twin chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he murmured, gently tugging a strand of my short red hair. “Remember, we’re here to blend in, to study the humans and assimilate into the community. This is just another phase of training. Don’t forget, at the end of the summer, we start our sophomore year of high school. But more important, our real instructors will show up, and they’ll decide where we fit into the organization. This is a brief respite, at most, so enjoy it while you can.”

I made a face at him. “I intend to.”

And I did. He had no idea how much. I was tired of rules and isolation, of watching the world go by without me. I was tired of Talon and their endless string of policies, laws and restrictions. No more of that. The summer was mine, and I had big plans, things I wanted to do, before it ended and we’d be forced back into the system. This summer, I was going to live.

If I was ever allowed out of this stupid car.

The front door opened again, and Mr. Ramsey waved us forward. But instead of disengaging the child locks, the driver himself got out of the sedan and opened the doors for us. Of course he let Dante out first, and I almost slid across the seat to exit the car behind him. I was literally bouncing with impatience by the time the driver walked around to my side and finally let me out.

When my feet hit the ground, I stretched both arms over my head and yawned, breathing in the sun-soaked air, letting it warm my skin. I already loved how this place smelled. Ocean and sand, surf and hot pavement, the sound of distant waves caressing the beach. I wondered what Mr. Ramsey and my future guardians would say if I blew them all off and went skipping down to the ocean without looking back.

“Ember! Dante!” Mr. Ramsey stood in the shade of the archway, beckoning to us. I sighed and had taken one step toward the trunk to get my bags when the driver stopped me.

“I’ll bring in your luggage, Miss Ember,” he said solemnly. “You go on up to the house.”

“Are you sure? I can get it.” I stepped forward, holding out a hand, and he cringed back, averting his eyes. I blinked and stopped, remembering that some humans in the organization—the ones who actually knew what we were—were afraid of us. Our teachers had told us as much; though we were civilized and had slipped perfectly into human society, we were still predators, higher up on the food chain, and they knew it.

“Come on, sis,” Dante called as I stepped back. He stood at the edge of the walkway with his hands in his pockets, the sun gleaming off his crimson hair. He already looked perfectly at home. “The sooner we meet everyone, the sooner we can do what we want.”

That sounded good to me. I nodded and followed him up the walk to Mr. Ramsey, who ushered us into a charming, well-lit living room. Through the large bay windows off to the side, I could see a rickety picket fence and, beyond that, the beach, a long wooden dock and the ever-tempting ocean. A pair of humans stood in front of a green leather sofa as we came in, waiting for us.

“Ember, Dante,” Mr. Ramsey said, nodding to the pair, “this is your aunt Sarah and uncle Liam. They’ll be taking care of you until further notice.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dante, ever the polite one, said, while I hung back and observed our new guardians curiously. With a few distinctions, all humans looked basically the same to me. But our teachers had instructed us that it was crucial to see the differences, to recognize the individual, so I did that now. “Uncle” Liam was lanky and wind-burned, with russet hair and a neatly trimmed beard peppered with white. He had a stern face and unsmiling, swamp-water eyes that swept over us critically, before he gave a short, brisk nod. “Aunt” Sarah was plump and cheerful looking, her brown hair pulled into a neat bun, her dark eyes watching us with hawklike intensity.

“Well,” Mr. Ramsey said, tucking his tablet under an arm. “My job here is done. I’ll have Murray deliver your bags to your rooms. Mr. O’Conner, you know who to call if there is an emergency. Ember, Dante...” He nodded to us, fixing me with a firm glare. “Obey your guardians. Remember your training. Your evaluators will be in to check on you in three months.”

And, just like that, he swept from the room, out the front door and was gone. He didn’t say goodbye, and we hadn’t expected him to. Sentiment was not a big thing among our kind.

“Ember and Dante Hill, welcome to your new home,” Uncle Liam announced, sounding like he’d done this speech before. He probably had. “I’m sure your instructors have informed you of the rules, but let me remind you, in case you forgot. While you are here, Sarah and I are your guardians, thus we are responsible for you. Meals are served at 8:00 a.m., noon and 6:30 p.m. You are not required to be home for mealtimes, but you are to call to let us know where you are. You should already have the numbers memorized, so there is no excuse not to. Talon has provided you with a vehicle—I understand you both have driver’s licenses—but you must ask permission before taking it out. Curfew is strictly at midnight, no exceptions, no questions asked. And, of course, the most important rule.” His green-gray eyes narrowed. “Under no circumstances are you to Shift into your true forms. And you are never to fly, for any reason whatsoever. With the amount of people, technology and hidden threats, the risk of being seen is far too great. Your old school was on Talon property and they controlled the airspace around it, so the risks were minimal if you needed to Shift, but that is not the case here. Unless you receive a direct order from Talon itself, flying around in your true forms is strictly, one hundred percent forbidden. Is that understood?”

I managed a brief nod, though the thought made me physically ill. How did they expect me to never fly again? They might as well just tear my wings off.

“If you fail to comply with these rules,” Liam continued, “or if we deem you unfit for human society, Talon will be informed at once, and you will be evaluated to see if reeducation is necessary. Other than that, you are free to come and go as you please. Do you have any questions?”

I did. I might be completely earthbound, but that didn’t mean I had to stay here. “So, the beach,” I said, and he arched an eyebrow at me. “Can we go down there any time?”

Sarah chuckled. “It’s a public beach, Ember. As long as you’re home by curfew, you can spend as much time down there as you want. In fact, it’s a good place to meet the locals—a lot of kids your age go there to hang out.” She turned, beckoning to us with a chubby hand. “But here, let me show you to your rooms and you can unpack.”

Music to my ears.

* * *

My room was on the top floor, light and airy, with bare but cheerful orange walls and large windows. It had a fantastic view of the beach, as if I needed any more encouragement. As soon as Sarah left, I dug a green two-piece bathing suit and cutoff shorts out of my suitcase, not even bothering to unpack my clothes. Talon had provided us with a wardrobe for sunny Cali, so I had plenty of suits, shorts and numerous pairs of sandals to choose from. I guessed they really did care about us fitting in.

But before I did anything else, I carefully dug my jewelry box out from where it was nestled within a pile of shirts and set it on my new dresser. Talon had provided us with everything—clothes, food, entertainment—but this small wooden box, fashioned like an old chest, was where I kept all my personal things. I unlocked the box with the hidden key and gently pushed back the lid, peeking in. The bright sunlight sparkled off a collection of small treasures: a couple of rings, a gold necklace, an assortment of old coins collected over the years. I picked up a piece of quartz I’d found in the desert one afternoon and held it up to the light, letting it glitter in my palm. Hey, I couldn’t help it. I liked shiny things; it was in my blood.

Replacing the crystal, I closed the box and checked myself in the mirror above the dresser. A short, somewhat spiky-haired human girl gazed back. After what seemed like an eternity, I had become used to her face; it had been a long time since the human in the mirror seemed like a stranger.

Whirling around, I strode to my door, flung it open and ran straight into Dante.

“Oof,” he grunted, staggering backward as I tried not to trip and fall over him. He had changed into shorts and a loose sleeveless shirt, and his red hair was mussed as if already wind tossed. He gave me a rueful look as he caught himself on the railing, rubbing his chest. “Ow. Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go check out the beach, but it looks like you beat me to it.”

I shot him a grin, the same as when we competed against each other in school, defiant and challenging. “Race you to the water.”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, sis. We’re not in training any—” But I had already rushed past him down the hall, and heard him scramble to catch up.

Bursting out of the house, we flew down the steps, leaped the picket fence and broke into a flat-out run toward the ocean. I loved running, or anything that involved speed and exertion, feeling my muscles stretch and the wind in my face. It reminded me of flying, and though nothing could compare to the pure thrill of soaring through the clouds, beating my twin in a footrace, or anything really, ran a very close second.

Unfortunately, Dante and I were pretty evenly matched, and we reached the water’s edge at the same time. Splashing into the turquoise sea at last, I gave a breathless whoop, just as a wave came out of nowhere and smashed into me, filling my mouth with salty water and knocking me off my feet.

Wading over, Dante reached down to pull me up, but he was laughing so hard he could barely stand. Grabbing the offered wrist, I gave it a yank, and he toppled in after me as another wave came hissing in and covered us both.

Sputtering, Dante rolled upright, shaking water from his hair and wringing out his shirt. I staggered to my feet as the water receded, sucking at my ankles as it swept back to the ocean. “You know,” my twin muttered, giving me an exasperated half smile, “you typically take off your regular clothes before you decide to do a face-plant into the ocean. That’s what normal people do, anyway.”

I grinned at him cheekily. “What? Now you have an excuse to take off your shirt and show everyone the manly six-pack you’ve been working on all year.”

“Ha-ha. Hey, look, a shark.”

He pointed behind me. I turned, and he shoved me into another wave. With a shriek, I sprang up and tore after him as he took off down the beach, the foaming seawater lapping at my toes.

Sometime later, we were both drenched, hot and covered in sand. We’d also traveled pretty far down the beach, passing sunbathers and families, though the strip was emptier than I’d thought it would be. Farther out, I could see surfers on their colorful boards, gliding through waves much larger than those close to shore. I wondered, again, what it was like to surf, if it was anything like flying. I made it a priority to find out.

Closer to the edge of the beach, a volleyball net stood in the sand, and several teenagers bumped a ball back and forth over the net. There were six of them, four boys and two girls, all wearing shorts or bikinis. They were very tan, as if they’d spent a lifetime out in the sun, the girls slender and beautiful, the boys shirtless and muscular. A pair of sleek yellow boards lay nearby, showing that at least a couple of them were surfers. Curious, I stopped to watch from a safe distance away, but Dante nudged my shoulder and jerked his head in their direction.

“Come on,” he murmured, and started ambling toward the group. Frowning, I followed.

“Um. What are we doing?”

He looked back at me and winked. “Fitting in.”

“What, right now?” I glanced at the humans, then back at my brother. “I mean, you’re just going to walk up to a bunch of mortals and talk to them? What are you going to say?”

“I figured I’d start with �hi.’”

A little apprehensively, I trailed after him. As we approached the net, one of the boys, his dark hair bleached blond at the tips, leaped up and spiked the ball toward one of the girls on the other side. She instantly dove into the sand to save it, sending the white sphere flying in our direction.

Dante caught it. The game paused a moment as all the players turned in our direction.

My brother smiled. “Hey,” he greeted, tossing the ball to one of the girls. Who, I noticed, nearly missed the catch from gaping at him. “Need a couple extra players?”

The group hesitated. I noted the way the girls were staring wide-eyed at Dante, and bit down a snort. By human standards, my twin was charming and extremely good-looking, and he knew it, too. It wasn’t by accident. When choosing the form that would be ours for the rest of our life, everyone in Talon was groomed to the highest standards of human beauty. There were no ugly “humans” in the organization, and there was a very good reason for that. Mortals responded to beauty, wealth, power, charisma. It made them easier to sway, easier to control, and Dante was a natural at getting what he wanted. This was sure to go to his already inflated head. But at least three of the guys were staring at me, too.

One of the boys, lean and tan, with blond hair down to his shoulders, finally shrugged. “Sure, dude.” His voice was light, easygoing. “The more, the merrier. Come on in and pick a side.” He flashed me a grin, as if hoping I would choose his side of the net. I hesitated a moment, then obliged him. Fit in, make friends, adapt. That was what we were here to do, right?

The other girl on my side, the one who’d dived for the ball, smiled at me as I joined her on the front row. “Hey,” she said, pushing long brown hair out of her face. “You’re new around here, aren’t you? Come for summer vacation?”

I stared at her and, for a second, my mind went blank. What did I say? What did I do? This was the first human, not counting my teachers and guardians, who had ever spoken to me. I wasn’t like my brother, who was comfortable around people and knew how to respond regardless of the situation. I stared at the human, feeling trapped, wondering what would happen if I just turned around and sprinted back home.

But the girl didn’t laugh or tease or give me a weird look. “Oh, right,” she said as Dante was tossed the ball and encouraged to serve. “You have no idea who I am, do you? I’m Lexi. That’s my brother, Calvin.” She nodded to the tall blond human who had smiled at me earlier. “And that’s Tyler, Kristin, Jake and Neil. We all live here,” Lexi continued as Dante walked to where a lone sandal sat several yards from the net, marking the back line. “Except for Kristin.” She nodded at the girl on the other side, blond and tan and model-gorgeous. “But her family owns a beach house and comes down every summer. The rest of us have been here forever.” She shot me a sideways look as Dante prepared to serve. “So, where did you two move from? Ever played volleyball before?”

I was trying to keep up with the endless string of words, to find time to respond, when Dante tossed the ball, leaped gracefully into the air and hit it with a resounding whack that propelled it over the net and behind my head. It was expertly bumped to the blond boy, who hit the ball with his fingertips, setting me up for a spike. I hadn’t ever played volleyball before, only studied it on TV. Thankfully, my kind were naturals at picking up physical activities, and I instinctively knew what to do. I bounced into the air and smacked the ball right at Bleach-tips. It shot toward him like a missile, and he dug for it frantically. The ball struck his hand at an angle, bounced off and rolled merrily toward the ocean. He cursed and jogged off after it, while our side cheered.

“Nice shot!” Lexi grinned, watching Bleach-tips scoop up the wayward ball and come striding back. “Guess that answers my question, doesn’t it? What was your name again?”

The tightness in my chest deflated, and I grinned back. “Ember,” I replied as Calvin smiled and nodded in approval. “And that’s my brother, Dante. We’re here for the whole summer.”

* * *

We played until the sun began to sink over the ocean, turning the sky a brilliant shade of orange and pink. At one point, Dante had to borrow someone’s phone to call Uncle Liam, as we’d both forgotten ours in the mad dash to the beach. When the light began to fade and the group finally split up, Lexi and Calvin invited Dante and I to the burger shack on the edge of the beach, and we accepted eagerly.

As I sat beside Lexi, munching greasy fries and sipping a mango smoothie, something I’d never experienced before (nor had my stomach, though our digestive tracts could handle just about anything), I couldn’t help but be amazed. So these were normal teenagers, and this was what summer was supposed to be. Sand and sun and volleyball and junk food. No trainers. No evaluators with their cold hands and even colder eyes, watching our every move. The two surfboards I’d seen earlier lay propped on the table beside us; they actually belonged to Lexi and Calvin, and both had offered to teach me. Yep, I’d say my first day of being human was going swimmingly.

And then, sitting at an outdoor table with the sun fading into the ocean and the sky dotted with stars, I felt a strange prickle on the back of my neck. The same feeling I’d get whenever I was being observed by an evaluator, all tingly and disconcerting. It always meant someone was watching me.

I turned in my seat, scanning the parking lot, but I didn’t see anything unusual. A pair of girls walking back to their Camaro, drinks in hand. A family with two toddlers heading to the door. None of them were staring at me. But that tingle rippling across my neck hadn’t gone away.

And then, a dragon pulled up on a motorcycle.

Not in its real form, obviously. The art of Shifting—changing into human form—was so widespread it was common dragon knowledge now. All our kind knew how to do it. And those that couldn’t were either taught very quickly, or they were hunted down by the Order of St. George, the terrible cult of dragonslayers whose only purpose was our destruction. Shifting into human form was our best defense against genocidal dragon killers and a world of unsuspecting mortals; one did not just wander about in full reptile form unless one had a death wish.

So, the dragon who cruised casually to the edge of the lot appeared human, and a fine specimen of humanity, too. He was slightly older than us, lean and tall, with a tousled mess of black hair and a leather jacket over his broad shoulders. He didn’t kill the engine, but sat there staring at me, a smirk stretching his full lips, and even in human form, there was an air of danger about him, in his eyes that were so light a brown they were almost gold. My blood heated at the sight of him, and a flush rose to my skin—instant reactions to another of our kind, and a stranger at that.

Lexi noticed me staring at the parking lot, and her gaze followed mine. “Oh.” She sighed, sounding dreamy all of a sudden. “G double B is back.”

“Who?” I whispered, wondering when Talon had planted him here. It was highly unusual to run into another dragon anywhere; Talon never placed their charges in the same town, for safety reasons. Too many dragons in one spot attracted St. George to the area. The only reason Dante and I had been placed here together was because we were true siblings, and that was almost unheard of in the organization.

“Gorgeous Biker Boy,” Lexi replied as the strange dragon continued to stare at me, almost challenging. “No one knows who he is. He showed up a few weeks ago, and has been coming around all the popular hangouts. He never talks to anyone, just checks the place out, like he’s looking for somebody, and leaves.” Her knee bumped mine under the table, making me jump, and she grinned wickedly. “But it seems like he’s found what he was looking for.”

“Huh? Who?” I tore my gaze from the strange dragon as he revved his bike and cruised out of the parking lot, vanishing as quickly as he’d appeared. “What do you mean, he’s found what he was looking for?”

Lexi just giggled, but I suddenly caught Dante’s eye over the table and burger wrappings, and my stomach dropped. My twin’s expression was cold, dangerous, as he glared at the spot where the other dragon had been moments before. His pupils contracted, shrinking down until they were black slits against the green, looking inhuman and very reptile.

I kicked him under the table. He blinked, and his eyes went normal again. My stomach uncoiled. Jeez, Dante. What was that about?

“We should go,” he announced, standing up. Lexi made a disappointed noise and pouted, but he didn’t relent. “It’s our first day here, and our aunt and uncle will worry if we’re not back soon. We’ll see you around, right?”

“Dude, it’s cool.” Calvin waved him off. “We practically live on the beach. Ember, meet us here tomorrow afternoon, yeah? The waves are supposed to be sick.”

I promised I would, then hurried after my brother.

“Hey,” I whispered, lightly smacking his arm as I caught up. “What’s with you? You nearly went psychopathic lizard on me, right in front of two very normal humans. What’s the deal?”

He shot me a guilty look. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just...” He raked a hand through his hair, the salt making it stand on end. “Do you know what that was, in the parking lot just now?”

“You mean the other dragon? Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

“Ember.” Dante stopped and met my gaze, grim and a little frightened. Which, in turn, scared me. Dante was always the calm, collected one. “That wasn’t anyone from Talon,” he said solemnly. “That was a rogue. I’d bet my life on it.”

My insides shriveled.

Rogue.

The stranger was a rogue. A dragon who, for reasons beyond comprehension, had broken away from Talon, severing all ties and going on the run. This was the one unforgivable crime in the eyes of Talon; dragons who went rogue were immediately pronounced traitors and criminals, and offered one chance to turn themselves in. If they refused, the infamous Vipers were sent to bring them back, to whatever punishment awaited them for such betrayal.

A rogue dragon, hanging around Crescent Beach. Staring right at me. Like he’d known I would be there.

“What do we do now?” I asked. “How long do you think he’s been out of Talon?”

“Probably not long,” Dante muttered, watching the last of the humans on the beach with an intensity that hadn’t been there before. “I can’t imagine he’ll be around much longer. Ember, don’t tell Liam and Sarah about this when we get home, okay?”

Puzzled, I frowned at him. “Why?”

“Because they’ll inform Talon,” Dante answered, making my stomach clench. “Because the organization might call us back if they suspect a rogue is in the area.” He must’ve seen my look of horror, because he placed a hand on my arm and smiled. “It’s all right. Let me handle this. I’ll take care of everything.”

I believed him. Dante always accomplished what he said he would. I should’ve been relieved.

But I remembered the strange dragon’s eyes, the look on his face as he’d stared at me, the way my blood had warmed at the sight of him. I remembered the heat of his gaze, the instant awakening of something fierce and primal inside me when our eyes met.

The rogue dragon was trouble. Plain and simple.

And I was intrigued.

* * *

The next day started off perfectly. I slept in for maybe the first time in my life, waking up close to noon to find Dante had already gone down to the beach. I found him with several of our new friends from yesterday, and we spent the afternoon talking, swimming, playing volleyball and eating more junk food from the Smoothie Hut. It was easier this time, to mingle, fit in and be part of this group, though some of their mannerisms were strange. Touching, for example. Lexi was very touchy-feely, and the first time she grabbed my arm, I had to force myself not to pull back, hissing. She and Kristin giggled a lot and talked at length about subjects completely foreign to me. Clothes and shoes and shopping and boys. Especially boys. It was baffling, this obsession with other humans. Clothes I could understand; shoes seemed to be the humans’ equivalent of shiny things and treasure. Maybe they hoarded boots like we did gemstones. That was something I could comprehend. But every time Lexi snatched my arm and pointed to some random human on the beach, I would nod and agree that he was “gorgeous,” as she put it, but I couldn’t see the attraction.

By the end of the day, however, the ebb and flow of human conversation was starting to sink in, and I felt I was starting to “get it.” I confirmed with Lexi that she was willing to teach me to surf, and she promised to take me to a “secret spot” farther down the beach, where it was never crowded and the waves were constant. As evening approached and the sun dipped lower over the ocean, we went back out on the sand and Calvin dug a shallow pit, filled it with driftwood and started a fire. Entranced, I buried my feet in the cooling sand and stared into the flames. Beside me, Lexi chatted away as a boy who had brought a guitar picked at the strings with deft fingers. The fire snapped against the wood, beautiful and glorious, seeping into my skin and warming my face. Oh, yeah. Life was good. At the moment, it was perfect.

And then, my phone chirped sharply in the quiet.

Digging it out of my pocket, I held it up just as Dante’s phone went off, too. We shared a glance, then gazed down at the screen. There was a new text from Liam and Sarah, and a cold knot settled in my stomach as I read it.

Come home, it ordered, simply. Now.

Dante immediately rose to his feet, dusting himself off. “We gotta go,” he told the group, who “aahed” at him in protest. He grinned and shrugged. “Sorry, family calls. Ember, come on.”

I didn’t move. It wasn’t curfew. Liam and Sarah had said we could go where we pleased as long as they knew where we were. They were only human. What were they going to do, come out and drag us home by the ear? “I’m not ready yet,” I told him, making his eyes widen. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

His eyes narrowed to dangerous green slits as he glared down at me. I knew what he was saying, just from that stare. We knew each other so well, it almost echoed in my brain.

We have to go, it told me. We have to obey the guardians, because Talon put them in charge. Don’t screw this up for us.

I glared back. I want to stay. I’m just getting the hang of this.

His gaze sharpened. You’re going to get us in trouble.

You go, then. I shrugged, settling back on my elbows, my intent crystal clear. I’m staying right here.

All this passed between us in a heartbeat. But then, Dante stopped glaring, and his expression turned pleading as he mouthed, Please.

I slumped. Angry Dante I could handle, but scared, beseeching Dante always got to me. “Fine,” I muttered, and got to my feet, dusting sand from my clothes. “Let’s go, then.” I gave my twin one last glower that said, You owe me, and he smiled. With a last longing look at the bonfire and the flames licking gloriously over the wood, I turned my back on the group and stalked up the beach with my brother.

Aunt Sarah and Uncle Liam were waiting for us in the living room, but they weren’t the only ones.

As soon as we walked through the door, my primal instincts flared, hissing and cringing as a pair of cold, unamused gazes met mine. They were dragons; there was no mistaking that aura of power and the way my own dragon shrank away, wanting to flee from another, stronger predator. Yeah, Talon might be superorganized and spread all over the world, but centuries of survival instincts could not be forgotten just because we were “civilized” now. And when a hatchling was faced with two scary-looking, fully mature adult dragons, even in human form, it was hard to stay put when all her survival instincts were telling her to slink away with her tail between her legs.

“Hello, students.” One of them stepped forward, acid-green eyes piercingly bright. She was actually the scarier of the two—a tall, elegant woman in a black Armani suit, her blond hair pulled into a tight bun. Her male companion, also dressed in black Armani, watched with his hands folded in front of him. His dark hair was slicked back, his eyes flat and cold, but it was the female who radiated danger, even as she smiled at me. Her three-inch heels clicked over the tile as she stopped at the edge of the living room and regarded me as if I were a curious bug that had crawled from beneath the door. “There’s been a change of plans.”

Garret

I crouched in the damp, steamy undergrowth of the Brazilian rain forest, insects humming around me, feeling sweat trickle down my back beneath my combat armor. Beside me, another soldier knelt motionless in the ferns, his M-16 held in both hands, muzzle slanting down across his chest. The rest of our squad, eight in all, were scattered behind us, silent and watchful.

About a hundred yards away, up a narrow gravel road through a sparse, dying lawn, the low earthen walls of the hacienda shimmered in the afternoon heat. Guards wandered the perimeter, AK-47s slung over their shoulders, unaware that they were being watched. I’d counted six outside; there were twice that number indoors, not to mention an unknown quantity of servants. And, of course, our target. The guards and servants were unimportant; casualties were expected on both sides. Taking out the target was our first and only priority.

I spoke quietly into the headset at my jaw. “Bravo in position.”

“Good,” muttered the staticky voice in my ear. “Alpha will advance as soon as the first shell hits. Hold your ground until the target has shown itself.”

“Understood.”

The soldier beside me took a deep, quiet breath and let it out slowly. He was a few years older than me and had a shiny burn scar that covered nearly half his face. He’d seen action before; everyone on this squad had. Some were venerable veterans, having several kills under their belt. No green soldiers here, not with what we had to do. Everyone knew what was expected, from the assault team out front to Tristan’s snipers waiting in the trees. I looked over my team, feeling a brief ache of resignation and acceptance. Some of us would fall today. When facing an enemy as powerful as this, death was almost certain. We were prepared. All of us were ready to die for the Order. No hesitation.

“Get ready,” I told the squad. “We start in thirty and counting.”

They nodded, grim and silent. We huddled in the thick jungle, blending into the vegetation. I counted down the seconds in my head, my gaze never leaving the hacienda walls.

Three, I thought as a whistle sounded overhead, faint at first, then growing louder and louder, until it was almost deafening. Two...one...

The mortar shell struck the hacienda with an explosion of fire and smoke, sending pieces of the roof in every direction. Instantly, the squad waiting on the edge of the clearing in front of the house opened fire, filling the air with the roar of machine guns. Cries of alarm came from within the building as enemy soldiers rushed into the front yard, diving behind cover and returning fire. A grenade flew over the wall, thrown by one of the guards, and an explosion of dirt erupted where it landed.

I could feel the tension in the soldiers behind me as we watched the scene play out. Not yet, I thought as one of Alpha’s soldiers jerked and collapsed to the lawn. Hold your position.

Alpha squad pressed forward, firing short, precise bursts as they advanced on the house. Shots ricocheted off trees and plaster, men screamed and the roar of gunfire echoed above the hacienda roof. Reinforcements rushed out, joining the firefight, but the target did not appear.

Come on, I thought, looking up toward the estate walls. Another Alpha soldier jerked and went down, bleeding in the grass. There was little cover on the flat expanse to the estate, while the enemy guards crouched behind the low wall and poked their muzzles over the top. Another soldier fell, and I narrowed my eyes. Come on, take the bait. We know you’re in there. Where are you?

Alpha was halfway up the lawn when the roof exploded.

Something dark, scaly and massive erupted from the hacienda, sending tile and wood flying as it launched itself into the air. My heart jumped as I watched the monster soar above the canopy. It was huge, a full-grown adult, the height of a bull elephant and three times as long. Curved horns spiraled up from its narrow skull, and a mane of spines ran down its neck to a long, thrashing tail. The sun glinted off midnight scales, and leathery wings cast a long shadow over the ground as the dragon hovered in the air, glaring down at the battle below, then dove to attack.

Wings flared, it landed on the lawn with a roar that shook the earth, then sent a cone of flame blasting through the ranks of soldiers. Bodies fell away, screaming, flailing, as hellish dragonfire consumed armor and flesh like tinder. The dragon pounced, scything through the ranks with its claws, crushing soldiers in its teeth before flinging them away. Its tail whipped out, striking an entire group coming up behind it and knocking them aside like bowling pins.

Now! I leaped to my feet, as did the rest of my squad, and opened fire on the huge reptile. The M-16s chattered in sharp, three-round bursts, and I aimed carefully for the dragon’s side, behind the front foreleg where the heart would be. Blood erupted along the armored hide, and the dragon roared as some of the shots pierced through scales, though not enough to kill it. It staggered, and I pressed forward grimly, concentrating fire on its weak points. The quicker we killed it, the less damage it could do and the fewer lives it would take. There could be no hesitation on our part; it was either us or the dragon.

Directly across from us, a black jeep with a mounted .50-caliber Browning M2 burst from the bushes, and machine-gun fire joined the cacophony as the vehicle sped toward the huge reptile. Caught in a deadly crossfire, the dragon roared. Bounding away, it opened its leathery wings and launched itself into the air with a powerful downward thrust.

“Aim for the wings!” the commander barked in my ear, though I was already switching targets, methodically firing at the sweeping membranes. “Bring it down! Don’t let it fly away.”

But the dragon had no intention of fleeing. It turned and swooped from the sky, dropping fifteen tons of scales, teeth and claws onto its target. It smashed full force into the jeep, halting the vehicle’s momentum, crushing the hood and causing the driver to smash into the windshield. The gunner flew from the back and tumbled to the ground, sprawling limply in the ferns. With a triumphant bellow, the dragon overturned the vehicle, crushing metal and glass and turning the jeep into a mangled wreck. I winced, but there was no time to think on the lives lost. We would pay our respects to the fallen when the battle was won.

My squad switched fire back to the dragon’s flank. Streaked with blood, the dragon jerked, and that long neck snapped around, a murderous gleam in its red eyes as it glared in our direction.

“Hold position!” I snapped to the rest of my squad as the dragon roared a challenge and spun, tail lashing. “I’ll draw it off. Keep firing!”

A couple of them glanced at me, grim and resigned, but they didn’t argue. Better one soldier fall than the entire team. I was squad leader; if I died so that my brothers could keep fighting, the sacrifice would be worth it. They knew that as well as I did.

I left my hiding place and started forward, firing short, controlled bursts as I did, heading around the dragon’s side. Spotting me, the dragon reared its head back and took a breath, and my pulse spiked. I dove away as fire erupted from its jaws, searing into the jungle and setting the trees ablaze. Rolling to my feet, I looked up to see the huge lizard coming for me, maw gaping wide. My heart pounded, but my hands remained steady as I raised my gun and fired at the horned skull, knowing the thick breastplate would protect its chest and stomach. The dragon flinched, shaking its head as the shots struck its bony brow and cheekbones, and kept coming.

I threw myself to the side as the dragon’s head shot forward, jaws snapping shut in the spot I had been. Quick as a snake, it whipped its neck around and lunged again, teeth that could shear through a telephone pole coming right at me. I avoided the six-inch fangs, but the massive horned head still crashed into my side, and even through the combat vest, pain erupted through my ribs. The ground fell away as the force hurled me into the air, the world spinning around me, and I rolled several paces when I struck the earth again. Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself to my elbows and looked up...

...into the crimson eyes of my enemy.

The dragon loomed overhead, dark and massive, its wings partially open to cast a huge shadow over the ground. I stared into its ancient, alien face, saw myself reflected in those cold red eyes that held no mercy, no pity or understanding—just raw hate and savage triumph. It took a breath, nostrils flaring, and I braced myself for the killing flames. There was no fear, no remorse. I was a soldier of St. George; to die honorably in battle against our oldest foe was all I could hope for.

A single shot rang out from somewhere in the jungle, the sharp retort echoing loudly even in the chaos. The dragon lurched sideways with a roar, a bright spray of blood erupting from its side as the armor-piercing .50-caliber sniper round struck behind its foreleg, straight into the heart. The precision perfect shot that Tristan St. Anthony was known for.

The blow knocked the dragon off its feet, and the ground shook as it finally collapsed. Wailing, it struggled to rise, clawing at the ground, wings and tail thrashing desperately. But it was dying, its struggles growing weaker even as the soldiers continued to pump it full of rounds. From where I lay, I watched its head hit the ground with a thump, watched its struggles grow weaker and weaker, until it was almost still. Only the faint, labored rise and fall of its ribs, and the frantic twitch of its tail, showed it was still clinging to life.

As it lay there, gasping, it suddenly rolled its eye back and looked at me, the slitted, bright red pupil staring up from the dirt. For a moment, we stared at each other, dragon and slayer, caught in an endless cycle of war and death.

I bowed my head, still keeping the dragon in my sights, and murmured, “In nomine Domini Sabaoth, sui filiiqui ite ad Infernos.” In the name of the Lord of Hosts and his son, depart to hell. An incantation taught to all soldiers, from when they believed dragons were demons and might possess you in a final attempt to remain in the world. I knew better. Dragons were flesh and blood; get past their scales and armor, and they died just like anything else. But they were also warriors, brave in their own way, and every warrior deserved a final send-off.

A low rumble came from the dying dragon. Its jaws opened, and a deep, inhuman voice emerged. “Do not think you have won, St. George,” it rasped, glaring at me in disdain. “I am but a single scale in the body of Talon. We will endure, as we always have, and we grow stronger even as your race destroys itself from within. You, and all your kind, will fall before us. Soon.”

Then the light behind the crimson orbs dimmed. The dragon’s lids closed, its head dropped to the ground and its whole body shuddered. With a final spasm, the wings stilled, the tail beating the earth ceased and the huge reptile went limp as it finally gave up its fight for life.

I collapsed to my back in the dirt as cheers rose around me. Soldiers emerged from the trees, shaking their weapons and letting out victory cries. Beyond the massive corpse, bodies from both sides lay scattered about the lawn, some stirring weakly, some charred to blackened husks. Flames still flickered through the trees, black columns of smoke billowing into the sky. The crumpled remains of the jeep smoldered in the middle of the field, a testament to the awesome power of the huge reptile.

The firefight with the guards had ceased. Now that their master was gone, the last of the enemy was fleeing into the jungle. No orders were given to track them down; we already had what we’d come for. In a few minutes, another crew would chopper in, clean up the debris, raze the hacienda and make all the bodies disappear. No one would ever know that a monstrous, fire-breathing creature of legend had died here this afternoon.

I looked at the lifeless dragon, crumpled in the dirt while the squads milled around its body and grinned and slapped one another on the back. A few soldiers approached the huge carcass, shaking their heads at the size, disgust and awe written on their faces. I stayed where I was. It was not the first dead dragon I’d seen, though it was the largest I’d ever fought. It would not be the last.

I wondered, very briefly, if there would ever be a “last.”

Dragons are evil; that was what every soldier of St. George was taught. They are demons. Wyrms of the devil. Their final goal is the enslavement of the human race, and we are the only ones standing between them and the ignorant.

While I wasn’t certain about the entire wyrms of the devil part, our enemy certainly was strong, cunning and savage. My own family had been murdered by a dragon when I was just a toddler. I’d been rescued by the Order and trained to take the fight back to the monsters that had slaughtered my parents and sister. For every dragon I killed, more human lives would be spared.

I’d fought enough battles, seen enough of what they could do, to know firsthand that they were ruthless. Merciless. Inhuman. Their power was vast, and they only got stronger with age. Thankfully, there weren’t many ancient dragons in the world anymore, or at least, most of our battles were against smaller, younger dragons. To take down this huge, powerful adult was an enormous victory for our side. I felt no remorse in killing the beast; this dragon was a central figure in the South American cartels, responsible for the deaths of thousands. The world was a better place with it gone. Maybe through my actions today, some little kid wouldn’t have to grow up an orphan, never knowing his family. It was the least I could do, and I did it gladly. I owed my family that much.

My ribs gave a sharp, painful throb, and I gritted my teeth. Now that the adrenaline had worn off and the fight was done, I turned my attention to my injury. My combat vest had absorbed a good bit of the damage, but judging from the pain in my side, the force of the blow had still cracked a rib or two.

“Well, that was amusing. If you ever get tired of the soldier life, you should consider a career as a dragon soccer ball. You flew nearly twenty feet on that last hit.”

I raised my head as a mound of weeds and moss melted out of the undergrowth and shuffled to my side. It carried a Barrett M107A1 .50-caliber sniper rifle in one shaggy limb, and the other reached up to tug back its hood, revealing a smirking, dark-haired soldier four years my senior, his eyes so blue they were almost black.

“You okay?” Tristan St. Anthony asked, crouching down beside me. His ghillie suit rustled as he shrugged out of it, setting it and the rifle carefully aside. “Anything broken?”

“No,” I gritted out, setting my jaw as pain stabbed through me. “I’m fine. Nothing serious, it’s just a cracked rib or two.” I breathed cautiously as the commander emerged from the trees and slowly made his way across the field. I watched him bark orders to the other squads, point at the dragon and the bodies scattered about, and I struggled carefully upright. The medic would be here in a few minutes, taking stock of the wounded, seeing who could be saved. I didn’t want to give the impression that I was seriously hurt, not when many other soldiers lay on the brink of death. The commander met my gaze over the carnage, gave a tiny nod of approval and continued on.

I glanced at Tristan. “Killing shot goes to you, then, doesn’t it? How big was the pot this time?”

“Three hundred. You’d think they’d figure it out by now.” Tristan didn’t bother hiding the smugness in his voice. He gave me an appraising look. “Though I guess I should give you a portion, since you were the one who set it up.”

“Don’t I always?” Tristan and I had been partners awhile now, ever since I’d turned fourteen and joined the real missions, three years ago. He’d lost his first partner to dragonfire, and hadn’t been pleased with the notion of “babysitting a kid,” despite the fact that, at the time, he was only eighteen himself. His tune had changed when, on our first assignment together, I’d saved him from an ambush, nearly gotten myself killed and managed to shoot the enemy before it could slaughter us both. Now, three years and dozens of battles later, I couldn’t imagine having someone else at my back. We’d saved each other’s lives so often, we’d both lost count.

“Still.” Tristan shifted to one knee, grinning wryly. “You’re my partner, you nearly got yourself eaten and you might’ve set a world record for distance in being head-butted by a dragon. You deserve something.” He nodded, then dug in his pocket and flourished a ten-dollar bill. “Here you go, partner. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

* * *

The long campaign was finally over.

And we’d survived.

Or some of us had. The lucky ones. Myself, Tristan and his fellow snipers, and Bravo—my squad—had come out mostly unscathed. However, there were numerous losses within the other squads, especially Alpha, the ones responsible for luring out the dragon. The casualties were high, but not unexpected. A strike that large was atypical for the Order; we were normally sent after dragons in teams, not a whole army. Because of the nature of the raid, the best soldiers from several Order chapterhouses had been pulled in to take out the dragon and its followers, Tristan and I included. The operation had required the full might of St. George, especially because we were dealing with the rare adult dragon, and the Order had taken no chances. We could not let the dragon escape and disappear into Talon. After the battle had been won, the army had dispersed, and we’d returned to our home bases to await further orders.

For Tristan and I, that meant returning to the States and St. George’s western chapterhouse, a lonely outpost deep in the Mohave Desert near the Arizona/Utah state line. The Order had several chapters set up in England, the United States and a few other countries, but this was home for me and my teammates. Those who had fallen in South America were given a hero’s burial and laid within our barren, sprawling cemetery, their graves marked with a simple white cross. They had no family to attend their funeral, no relatives to lay flowers at their grave. No one except their commanders and brothers-in-arms would see them laid to rest.

The ceremony was simple, as it always was. I’d attended many funerals before, watched soldiers I’d known for years buried in neat ranks through the sand. It was a constant reminder and an accepted fact among the soldiers—this was what awaited us at the end of the road. After the ceremony, we returned to the barracks, several cots emptier now, and life in the St. George chapterhouse continued as it always did.

About a week after the raid on the hacienda, Tristan and I were called into Lieutenant Martin’s office.

“At ease, boys.” Martin waved to a couple of chairs in front of his desk, and we took a seat obediently, myself moving a little stiffly as my ribs were wrapped and still tender. Gabriel Martin was a stocky man with brown hair graying at the temples and sharp black eyes that could be amused or icy cold, depending on his mood. His office was standard for most Order chapterhouses, small and sparse, as the Order didn’t believe in extravagance. But Martin had a red dragon hide hanging on the wall behind his desk, his first kill, and the hilt of his ceremonial sword was polished dragon bone. He nodded at us as he sat behind his desk, his lined mouth curved in a faint, rare smile.

“Tristan St. Anthony and Garret Xavier Sebastian. Your names are making quite the rounds among the men lately. First off, I want to congratulate you both on another successful mission. I understand the killing shot went to you, St. Anthony. And, Sebastian, I watched you lead the beast away from your squad. And survive. You’re both among the best we have, and the Order is lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, sir,” we both said at roughly the same time. The lieutenant studied us for a moment, steepling his fingers together, then lowering them with a sigh.

“Because of this,” he went on, “the Order wishes to send you on another mission, one slightly different than what you’ve been used to so far. You are both exceptional in the field—we hope you will do as well in a more...delicate environment.”

“Sir?” Tristan asked, furrowing his brow.

Martin smiled grimly. “Our intelligence has informed us of possible Talon activity taking place in Southern California,” he said, eyeing us each in turn. “We believe they are using this spot to plant dragon sleepers into the population. As you know, sleepers are insidious because they appear completely human, and Talon has trained them to assimilate to their surroundings. Of course, we cannot simply march in and take out a suspect without proof that it is a dragon. The consequences for such actions would be dire, and the secrecy of the Order must be maintained at all costs. But you both know this.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied when he looked at me. He waited a moment, and I added, “What would you have us do, sir?”

Martin leaned back, rubbing his chin. “We have done extensive research around the area,” he went on, “and we believe that a new sleeper will be implanted there soon. We have even narrowed it down to the town, a place called Crescent Beach.” His gaze sharpened. “More important,” he went on, “we have reason to believe that this sleeper will be female.”

Tristan and I straightened. Destroying all dragons was the Order’s holy mission, but the females of the breed took top priority. If we could take out a female—a dragonell—that meant fewer eggs would be laid, and fewer dragons would be hatched each year. Talon jealously guarded their dragonells; there were rumors that most of Talon’s female population was kept locked away for breeding purposes and never saw the outside world. To find one away from the organization was a rare, golden opportunity. Killing it would be a huge blow to our enemies, and another step in winning the war.

“Yes,” Martin said, noting our reactions. “So you both know how crucial this is. Talon’s sleepers begin their assimilation in the summer, observing, blending in and making contacts for the organization. You will both go undercover and be on the lookout for any dragon activity, but, Sebastian, we want you to get in close and flush the sleeper into the open.”

I blinked. “Me?” I asked, and Martin nodded. Tristan sat up straighter; even he seemed stunned. Go undercover? I thought. To a normal town, with civilians? How? I know nothing about...that. Being normal. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

“Granted.”

“Sir, why me? Surely there are others more qualified for this kind of work. I’m not a spy. I’m just a soldier.”

“You’re one of our best,” Martin insisted quietly. “Killed your first dragon at fourteen, led a successful raid on a nest at sixteen, more kills under your belt than anyone your age. I’ve heard what the others have been calling you lately—the Perfect Soldier. It fits. But there is another reason we chose you. How old are you now, Sebastian?”

“Seventeen, sir.”

“Most of our soldiers are too old to pass for a teen in high school. That, or they’re not experienced enough. We need someone who will fit in with a group of adolescents, someone they will not suspect.” Martin leaned forward again, regarding me intently. “No, when the captain asked who was the best to send for this job, even though I’d rather keep you both in the field, I recommended you and St. Anthony.” His hard black eyes narrowed. “I know you won’t disappoint me, or the Order. Will you, soldiers?”

“No, sir,” Tristan and I answered together. Martin nodded, then picked up a thick manila file and regarded us over the edge. Briskly, he tapped it against the surface of the desk three times, then held it up.

“Everything you need to know is in here,” he said, handing me the folder across the desk. I took it and flipped it open to reveal fake birth certificates, social security cards and driver’s licenses on the first page. “You have seventy-two hours to memorize everything in that file, and come up with a plan for exposing the sleeper. When you find it, take it out. Call in reinforcements if you have to, but make sure it does not escape.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Martin nodded. “I suggest you hurry. There is no set time for eliminating your target, but you will want to flush it out before the end of the summer. Otherwise, Talon could relocate it, and the opportunity to kill another of the devils will be lost.” His black eyes narrowed. “I also do not need to remind you boys to be extremely cautious when dealing with civilians. They can never know of us, or the existence of Talon. Secrecy is crucial. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well.” Martin waved a hand, and we rose with twin salutes. “You depart for California at the end of the week. Good luck to you both.”

Ember

The ocean wasn’t cooperating today.

I glared at the deep blue water, scowling as it lapped against the fiberglass board I straddled, bobbing me gently on the surface. I’d been sitting here for twenty minutes, the sun beating down on my head, and the only “waves” I’d seen weren’t fit for kiddie pools. I should’ve listened to Calvin yesterday when he’d said the water was going to be flatter than the caterwauling Lexi called singing. That had earned him an annoyed smack from his sister, but he did have this sixth sense about the ocean, when the waves would be highest and the water perfect for boarding. Today was not one of those days.

Oh, come on, I thought at the ocean, at Triton or Poseidon or whatever fickle sea god happened to be listening. One wave. Give me one proper wave and I’ll admit defeat. I’ll leave you alone if you just give me one good ride. Preferably before the sun goes down and I have to go home.

The sea gods laughed at me, and the ocean remained calm.

I sighed, carefully lying back on the slim board and gazing up at the sky. Like the ocean, it was a flat, perfect blue. A seagull soared past, its black-tipped wings spread wide to catch the breeze, filling me with nostalgia. I remembered swooping the air currents, the sun warming my wing membranes, my tail streaming behind me as I flew above the clouds. Running, skating, surfing—they were all a blast, but nothing compared to flying.

Though riding a fifteen-foot wave as it roared onto shore was the closest I’d ever come to that pure adrenaline rush.

I’d be happy if I could get an eight-footer today.

Another pair of gulls glided overhead, mocking me with their high-pitched calls, and I wrinkled my nose. What I wouldn’t give to forget everything and go soaring through the clouds with the gulls and the pelicans. Especially now. Ever since her arrival, exactly one month ago, when Dante and I had come home that evening to find two adult dragons in our living room.

* * *

“Change of plans?” I managed as the female dragon continued to watch me, a faint smile on her full red lips. “Are...are you here to take us back?”

The woman’s smile grew wider, and slightly evil, I thought. “No, my dear,” she said, making me slump in relief. “But, in light of recent events, the organization has decided it would be best to accelerate your training. We—” she gestured back to the dragon behind her “—will be taking over your education for the summer.”

“What!” No, that couldn’t be right. The summer was supposed to be ours—three months of freedom with no trainers, lessons, rules or responsibilities. The final stage of training was supposed to happen after the assimilation process, when Talon deemed us ready for human society on a permanent basis. “I thought the organization sent us here to blend in,” I protested. “How are we going to do that while learning...whatever we’re supposed to be learning?”

My voice came out high-pitched and kind of desperate, and the woman raised an amused eyebrow. I didn’t care. The walls were closing in and my freedom, tiny and fragile as it was, was slipping out the window. I wasn’t ready for this, not yet. I didn’t know much about the last stage of training, only that it lasted several years and was specifically tailored to whatever position Talon had chosen for you. I could be destined to become a Chameleon, the dragons who occupied positions of power in human society. Or I could be shunted in with the Gilas, the grunts and bodyguards to important Talon officials. There were other positions, of course, but the important thing was every dragon had one. Ut omnes sergimus, was Talon’s motto. As one, we rise. Every dragon had a place, and we all had to work together for the good of the organization and our own survival. Only, we didn’t have a choice in where that place would be. I couldn’t even speculate what I wanted to do when I “grew up.” There were a few positions within the organization that sounded okay, that I wouldn’t completely hate, but it was useless to hope for anything outside of Talon. I was a dragon. My whole life had already been mapped out.

Which was why I had so been looking forward to the summer, one final hurrah before I had to become a responsible member of the organization. Before I became a full member of Talon for life, which was a very, very long time for us. Three months, that was all I wanted. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so. Scary Talon Lady gave me an amused look, as if she thought I was being cute. “Don’t worry, my dear.” I didn’t like her smile at all. “I will make certain you stay on the right path. You and I will be spending a lot of time together from now on.”

That ominous smile lingered a moment before she turned to my guardians, waiting rigidly nearby. “And remember, humans.” Her poisonous green eyes narrowed. “Absolute discretion is key. Be certain that they use the alternate exit to the rendezvous point tomorrow. We want nothing tracking their movements, or questioning where they go every morning. No one is to see them leave, or return. Is this clear?”

Dante and I exchanged a look as Liam and Sarah quickly uttered assurances. Great, more rules, was my first thought, followed almost immediately by, Wait, what alternate exit?

Scary Talon Lady turned back to me, smiling once more. “I will see you tomorrow, hatchling,” she said, and it almost sounded like a threat. “Bright and early.”

When they left, I turned immediately to Liam, who sighed, as if he knew what I was going to ask. “This way,” he said, motioning us both to follow. “I’ll show you where you need to go tomorrow morning.”

We trailed him down to the basement, which was cold and mostly empty: cement floor, low ceiling, washer and dryer on the far wall and an ancient weight-lifting machine collecting dust in the corner. Beside the machine sat an inconspicuous wooden door, looking like the entrance to a bathroom.

Liam walked up to the door, pulled out a key and unlocked it, then turned to us.

“Under no circumstances are you to tell anyone about this, is that understood?” he said, his voice low and firm. We nodded, and he put a hand on the doorknob, then pulled the door back with a creak.

I blinked. Instead of a bathroom, a long, narrow tunnel stretched away into the darkness. The walls and floor were rough cement, not natural stone or earth, so someone had obviously built this, maybe as an escape route. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Our old “school,” the place Dante and I had grown up, had several secret exits, in case we were ever attacked by our ancient enemies, the Order of St. George. We never had been; I’d never seen a soldier of St. George except in pictures, but there were surprise “emergency escape practice runs” every month or so, just in case.

“Tomorrow morning, I expect you both to be here at 6:15 sharp. Now listen, you two. Where you are going, and what happens when you get there, is strictly confidential. This tunnel doesn’t exist—do not mention it to anyone. In fact, from the time you step through this door until whenever you return, you are to speak to no one outside the organization, for any reason. Leave your phones at home—they won’t be necessary where you’re going. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Dante said immediately, but I wrinkled my nose, staring down the tunnel to where it vanished into the dark. A hidden passageway in our own basement? What other secrets were hiding in these walls? I wondered. And was this level of paranoia normal for Talon, or were Dante and I special for some reason?

Curiosity flared, and I stepped forward, but Liam quickly shut the door again, locking me out. I frowned and watched the key vanish into his pocket, wondering if he would ever leave it sitting unattended on a dresser. It would probably be too much trouble to “borrow” the key and slip down the passageway alone, especially if I had to wait only till tomorrow to find out where it went. Still, I was curious.

“Where does the tunnel go?” I asked as he shooed us up the stairs again.

Liam grunted. “There is no tunnel,” he said briskly as we stepped into the kitchen. “This is a perfectly normal household.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. The nonexistent secret passageway that we’re not supposed to talk about, I get it. Where does it go?”

“You’ll see tomorrow.”

And I did. The next morning, I hurried downstairs with Dante to find the door already unlocked for us. Pulling it open with a creak, I peered into the corridor, lit sparsely with bare bulbs every twenty or so feet, then grinned back at my brother.

“Do you think it’ll take us to a secret underground cave full of dragons and treasure?”

He smirked. “What is this, a Tolkien novel? I very seriously doubt it.”

“You’re no fun at all.”

We followed the straight, narrow passageway for maybe three blocks, until it ended at a flight of stairs with another simple wooden door at the top. Eager and curious, I pushed it open, but there was no looming cavern beyond the frame, no circle of dragons waiting for us, no bustling, underground facility with computer terminals lining the walls.

Through the door sat a clean but very plain-looking garage. It had cracked cement floors, no windows and was wide enough to hold at least two vehicles. The double doors were shut, and the shelves lining the walls were filled with normal garage-y things: tools and hoses and old bike tires and such. Not counting the secret tunnel we’d just come through, it was disappointingly normal in every way. Except, of course, for the pair of black sedans already humming in the center of the carport.

The drivers’ doors opened, and two men stepped out, dressed in identical black suits with dark glasses. As one, they turned and opened each of their passenger doors, then stood beside the cars, hands folded in front of them, waiting.

I eyed the men warily. “I guess we’re supposed to go with you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” one of them answered, staring straight ahead.

I suppressed a wince. I hated being called “ma’am.” “And, there’s two of you because...?”

“We’re to drive you to your destinations, ma’am,” the human answered, as though that was obvious. Though he still didn’t look at me. I blinked.

“Separately?”

“Yes, ma’am. That is correct.”

I frowned. Dante and I never did anything separately. All our classes, schoolwork, activities, events, everything, had been done together. I didn’t like the idea of my brother being taken away in a strange car with a strange human to a place I knew nothing about. “Can’t we drive there together?” I asked.

“I’m afraid that is impossible, ma’am.” The human’s voice was polite but firm. “You are not going to the same place.”

Even more wary now, I crossed my arms, but Dante stepped up behind me, brushing my elbow. “Come on,” he whispered as I glanced at him. “Don’t be stubborn. Talon ordered this—we have to do what they say.”

I sighed. He was right; if Talon had set this up, there was nothing I could do. “Fine,” I muttered, and looked back at the drivers. “Which car is mine?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter, ma’am.”

Before I could reply, Dante stepped around me, walked over to one of the cars and slid into the back. His driver briskly shut the door, walked around to his side and shut his own door behind him.

That left me. Swallowing a growl, I walked to the remaining car, ignoring my driver, and plopped into the backseat. As the garage doors lifted and we backed out into the sunlight, I turned to watch the other car, hoping for a final glimpse of my brother in the backseat. But the windows were tinted, and I couldn’t see him as the sedans pulled onto the road and sped away in opposite directions.

The drive was short and silent. I knew better than to ask where we were going. Resting an elbow on the door, I gazed out the window, watching the town flash by, until we pulled into the parking lot of a plain-looking office building. It was several stories high, with lots of dark glass windows that reflected the cloudless sky.

The driver pulled around the building and came to a stop in front of a loading dock in the back. The metal door was tightly sealed, but an entryway stood open beside it, dark and beckoning. I sighed.

Leaving the car and the driver, who still said nothing to me, I walked into the building and followed the long tile hallway until I came to an open door at the end. Beyond the frame was an office, with a metal stool sitting in front of an enormous wooden desk. A plush leather chair swiveled as I came in, and the blond woman in black Armani smiled at me across the floor.

“Hello, hatchling,” Scary Talon Lady greeted, lacing perfect, red-tinted nails under her chin. “You’re late.”

I swallowed hard and didn’t answer. One did not talk back to one’s elders, especially if one’s elders had a few hundred pounds advantage and the knowledge of several mortal life spans to back them up. The woman’s poisonous green eyes watched me a moment longer, and her lips curled faintly in amusement, before she gestured at the stool. “Sit.”

I did. The metal stool was hard and uncomfortable, probably on purpose. Scary Talon Lady leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs, still continuing to watch me with the unblinking stare of a predator.

“Well, here we are,” she said at last. “And I bet you’re wondering why, aren’t you?” She raised an eyebrow at my continued silence. “Don’t be afraid to talk to me, hatchling. At least, not today. Talon’s senior vice president himself asked me to take over your training, but right now, this is just an introduction. Student to teacher.” The faint smile vanished then, and her voice went hard. “Make no mistake about it—after today, things will become much more difficult. You are going to struggle, and you are going to get hurt. It is not going to be easy for you. So, if you have any questions, hatchling, now is the time to ask them.”

My stomach twisted. “What am I being trained for?” I almost whispered.

“Survival,” Scary Talon Lady answered without hesitation, and elaborated. “To survive a world that, if it knew what you really were, would stop at nothing to see you destroyed.” She paused to let the gravity of that statement sink in, before continuing. “All our kind must learn to defend ourselves, and to be on the lookout for those who would do us harm. Who would drive us to extinction, if they could. They almost succeeded, once. We cannot let that happen again.” She paused again, appraising me over the desktop. “Tell me, hatchling,” she said. “What is the greatest threat to our survival? Why did we nearly go extinct the first time?”

“St. George,” I answered. That was an easy question. From the moment we hatched, we were warned about the terrible Order of St. George. We were taught their entire blood-filled history, from the first dragonslayers, to the fanatical Templar Knights, all the way up to the militaristic order they were now. We were told stories of St. George soldiers murdering hatchlings, shooting them in cold blood, even if they were children. We were warned to always be wary of strangers who asked too many questions, who seemed unnaturally interested in our past. St. George was ruthless and cunning and unmerciful, the enemy of all our kind. Every dragon knew that.

“No. That is incorrect.”

I blinked in shock. The woman across from me leaned forward, her eyes intense. “We nearly went extinct,” she said slowly, “because we couldn’t trust one another. We were more concerned about our possessions and defending our territories than our survival as a race. And so, the humans hunted us down, one by one, and nearly destroyed us. Only near the end, when our numbers had dwindled to almost nothing, did one dragon—the Elder Wyrm—gather us all together and force us to cooperate. We learned to become human, to hide in plain sight, to disappear into the throngs of humanity. But most important, we learned that we must work together for our survival. A single dragon, powerful as he or she may be, cannot stand against this human-infested world. If we are to thrive, if we are to have any hope for a future, we must all accept our place in the organization. Alone, we fall. As one, we rise.” Scary Talon Lady narrowed her eyes, her acidic gaze cutting right through me. “Everything we do, everything I teach you, will be for the good of us all. Can you remember that, hatchling?”

I nodded.

“Good.” My trainer sat back once more, her lips curling in a small, evil smile. “Because it’s not going to get any easier from here.”

* * *

She was right. From that day forth, starting at 6:00 a.m. every morning, I’d wake up to the sound of my alarm beeping in my ear. I’d change, stagger downstairs to grab a bagel or a doughnut, and then Dante and I would meet our drivers at the end of the secret tunnel and separate. Once I reached the office building, I’d walk into that same room, and Scary Talon Lady—she never told me her name, ever—would be waiting behind her large wooden desk.

“Report,” she would bark at me, every morning. And I’d have to go over what I’d done the previous day. Who I’d met. Where we’d gone. What we’d done. She’d ask me specific questions about my friends, demanding I explain why they’d said a particular thing, or reacted a particular way. I hated it, but that wasn’t the worst part of the morning.

No, the worst part was after the “debriefing.” She’d order me to the storage room of the building, which was huge and vast and mostly empty, with hard cement floors and iron beams crisscrossing the ceiling. And then the real fun would begin.

“Break down these boxes,” she would snap, pointing to a huge pile of crates, “and stack them in the opposite corner.”

“Drag these pallets to the other end of the room. And when you are done, bring them back. Be quick about it.”

“Carry these buckets of water around the building ten times. When you are finished, go ten times the other way.”

“Stack these tires into pillars of eight, one in every corner of the room, as fast as you can. No, you cannot roll them, you must carry them.”

Every day. For two hours straight. No questions. No talking back or complaining. Just stupid, monotonous, pointless tasks. All the while, Scary Talon Lady would watch my progress, offering no explanation, never saying anything except to snap at me to move faster, to work harder. Nothing I did was good enough, no matter how hard I worked or how quickly I completed the task. I was always too slow, too weak, too lacking in everything, despite her absolute, number-one rule: no Shifting into my true form while I did any of it.

This morning, I’d finally snapped.

“Why?” I snarled, my voice echoing into the vastness of the room, breaking two of her rules at once. No talking back, and no questions. I didn’t care anymore. The brick I’d dropped had landed on my foot, sparking a curse and a flare of temper. And Scary Talon Lady, always there, always watching, had barked some kind of pithy insult before telling me to keep moving, faster this time. I was sore, my arms were burning, sweat was running into my eyes and now my toe was throbbing. I’d had enough.

“This is pointless!” I exclaimed, shouting across the room. “You’re always telling me to go faster, to be stronger, but I’m not allowed to change?” I gestured wildly to the mountains of bricks on both sides of the room, imagining how easy this would be if I could fly. “I could get this done ten times as fast in my real form. Why can’t I do this as me?”

“Because that is not the point of the exercise,” was the cool, infuriating reply. “And you just earned yourself another hour of carting bricks back and forth, only now I want you to count them. I will be keeping track, as well, and if you lose count, you will start all over again from the top. Is that understood?”

I seethed, wishing I could Shift into my real form and blast through one of the skylights in the ceiling. Leave my sadistic trainer and her pointless exercises behind for good. Of course, I could never get away with something so crazy, especially in broad daylight. If even one human saw me, there would be chaos and panic and bedlam and doom. Even if no one believed what they’d seen, Talon would have to step in and try to mitigate the damage, which was generally expensive and something they didn’t care to do. The Order of St. George might show up, as they always seemed to appear when the unexplainable occurred, and then someone would have to be called in to deal with that mess. Bottom line, I’d be in a world of trouble.

Setting my jaw, I bent down and grabbed the brick, then hefted it to my shoulder as I’d been ordered. One more hour. One more hour of this torture, and then the day was mine.

“I don’t hear you counting,” Scary Talon Lady sang from across the room. I gritted my teeth, swallowing the flames that wanted to burst free, and snarled back.

“One!”

* * *

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. When the torture finally ended and I came out of the secret tunnel, I raced to my room, grabbed my board and instantly headed down to the water. I needed something to clear my head, and riding the waves was the perfect distraction.

Only, the ocean was being obnoxious today, too. It was a conspiracy.

The surfboard bobbed gently on the water as I continued to stare at the sky. A lone cloud, a tiny cotton ball far overhead, hung in the endless blue, far, far away. Closing one eye, I raised my hand and imagined cupping my claws around it as I soared by on the wind. I remembered the sun warming my back and wings, the rush that filled me when I dove and swooped and soared on the currents. Surfing was the closest I’d come to that thrill, and it was a pale comparison. I wanted to fly.

I bet that rogue dragon can go flying whenever he wants.

I folded my hands on my stomach, thinking of him. It had been nearly a month since that brief glance in the parking lot, and since then, I’d seen neither hide nor hair of the rogue dragon or his motorcycle. Not that I hadn’t looked for him. I’d kept my eyes open, scanning the beach crowds, the parking lots, even the dark corners of the Crescent Beach mall. Nothing. Dante never spoke about the incident, either, becoming evasive and busy when I asked about it. He wouldn’t tell me what he’d done, or if he’d even done anything, and it annoyed me that he was being so secretive. If it wasn’t for Lexi’s confirmation that G double B had, in fact, existed, I might have thought the whole incident some kind of lucid dream.

I frowned. Dante was being cagey about a lot of things, lately. Not only with the rogue dragon, but he didn’t like talking about his own training sessions, either. I’d asked him, several times, what he and his trainer did all morning, and his answers were pretty vague. Politics and Human Sciences, learning the different governments and names of world leaders and such. I suspected he was keeping his answers deliberately boring so I would lose interest and not want to discuss it. I didn’t know why; I’d told him everything Scary Talon Lady made me do, and he was appropriately sympathetic, but he rarely spoke of his own sessions.

Something moved past me in the water, and I sat up, my nerves prickling for a different reason. The sea was calm, nothing had changed, but I could have sworn I’d felt movement off to the right....

A dark, triangular fin broke the surface about a hundred yards away, and my heart gave a violent lurch. Quickly, I pulled my legs out of the water and kneeled on the surfboard. The fin vanished for a moment, then reappeared, closer than before. Definitely stalking, circling. I could see the long, sleek shadow below the water, the dark torpedo-shaped body coming right at me.

I smiled. Not that I’d be scared any other time, but this morning, I was keyed up and ready for a fight. As it neared, I planted my palms on the board, lowered my head and gave a low growl.

Abruptly, the shadow veered away, the tail slapping a fine spray of mist into the air in its haste to turn around. I watched the fin slice through the water, growing rapidly smaller before it vanished into the depths again, and grinned triumphantly.

Ha. Bet you’ve never run into an even nastier predator floating on a surfboard before, have you?

I sighed. Well, unexpected visitor aside, nothing much was happening on this side of the ocean today. And I’d promised to meet Lexi at the Smoothie Hut. She, more intelligently, had heeded her brother’s advice and decided to spend the afternoon sunbathing and checking out boys with Kristin. Never mind that Kristin had a boyfriend back home in New York. She liked to “window-shop” while on vacation, and Lexi was more than happy to join in. The testosterone-ridden part of our group, Dante included, had gone to check out a truck-pulling event or something, so it was just us girls tonight. And though I thought sunbathing and gossiping about human boys the epitome of boring, it was better than sitting out here doing nothing, with no company except gulls and curious sharks.

Lying on my stomach, I paddled back to shore, catching a pathetic little four-footer close to the beach and gliding the rest of the way in. There was a good crowd of people splashing in the too-calm water today, some of them families with toddlers. I thought back to my unexpected meeting in the deep ocean, and though I thought my visitor was probably long gone, I didn’t want to take the chance that it could still be hanging around. Not with fat little kids scampering through the shallows, happily oblivious.

“Shark!” I yelled as my feet hit the wet sand. “There’s a shark out there! Everyone get out of the water!”

Man, you want to see humans move fast? Scream that on a crowded beach and watch what happens. It’s amazing the fear people have for a scaly, sharp-toothed predator. I watched the water empty in seconds, parents scooping up their children and fleeing to shore, desperate to get out of the ocean, and found it a little ironic. They were so terrified of the big nasty monster out in the water, when there was a bigger, nastier, deadlier one right there on the beach.

* * *

After talking to a pair of lifeguards, and explaining that, yes, I did see a shark out in the water, and no, I wasn’t causing a panic just for fun, I found Lexi and Kristin farther up the shore, at the edge of the parking lot. They were standing next to a yellow Jeep and talking to a trio of shirtless guys in swim trunks, none of whom I’d seen before. As I approached, that strange prickle teased the back of my neck, and I gazed around, searching for dark hair and a motorcycle. Nothing. I must be getting paranoid.

“There you are!” Lexi grabbed my arm like she was afraid I would fly away. “We were just about to go look for you. People are saying there’s a shark in the water!”

“Oh,” I said. “Um. Yeah, there is. I mean, that’s why I came out. It’s probably nothing, though.” I glanced at the three strange guys. They were a little older than us, college age, maybe, and not from around here. Except for their tanned arms, their skin was pale and pasty, as if this was the first time they’d taken off their shirts. One of them caught me looking at him and winked. I bristled, but decided not to comment.

“Lexi,” I said, turning away from Winky-guy. “Your new friends. Are you going to introduce me or what?”

“Oh, yeah. This is Ember, the one I was telling you about.” Lexi waved at me like a game show attendant showing off the day’s prize. “Ember, this is Drew, Travis and Colin. They just got here from Colorado State, so Kristin and I were going to show them around the beach.”

“Ah.” I glanced at Kristin, sitting casually against the hood of the Jeep, one long tan leg resting on the bumper. Two of the three guys couldn’t stop staring; you could almost see the drool hanging down their chins. “Well, I don’t think you’ll want to go anywhere near the water today,” I said. “You know, with Jaws hanging around out there.”

She pouted, but I was relieved. I didn’t like the way these three were staring at us, or the way that Travis casually put an arm around Lexi’s shoulders. My dragon growled uneasily, recognizing another predator, as Colin’s gaze lingered on me.

“That’s okay,” Travis said as Lexi blushed. “There are other places we can go. I heard there was this supersecret spot you locals go to hang out, am I right? Pirate’s Cove, Dead Man’s Cove...something like that?”

“You mean Lone Rock Cove?” Lexi asked, smiling up at him. I wanted to kick her. Lone Rock was a little-known inlet several miles down the beach. You had to take a dirt path from the road to get there, so it was pretty isolated. It was also where “questionable things” happened, according to Liam. Dante and I had been cautioned not to go there alone, and never after dusk.

The boys’ grins widened. “Yeah, that’s the one,” Colin chimed in. “Would you ladies care to show us where it is? We have beer and Doritos. It could be a picnic.”

No, I thought. We wouldn’t. “Let’s go to the Smoothie Hut instead,” I offered. Where there will be lots of other people around. “I’m starving, and I’ve been craving curly fries since lunch.”

“Oh, Ember, where’s your spirit of adventure?” Kristin sighed, sliding lazily off the hood, making sure to rub her smooth thigh muscles down the metal. If the Jeep were a boy, it would’ve spontaneously combusted. Flipping her hair back, she gave the guys a sultry smile. “We can take you there,” she purred as Lexi bobbed her head in agreement, “if you agree to buy us something later tonight.”

The boys grinned at one another like they’d won the lottery. “Well, you drive a hard bargain, gorgeous,” Colin said. “But I think we can accept those terms.”

I stifled a groan. I didn’t want to go; I didn’t like these three for some reason. I’d seen how males acted around girls; they often got very stupid and possessive. I still wasn’t an expert on the nuances of human behavior, especially when it came to their mating rituals. Maybe this was normal?

I really should’ve listened to my dragon.

Garret

I wasn’t terribly fond of these clothes.

When fighting creatures with fangs that could sever ligaments, claws that could rip you open like a paper sack and breath that could melt the skin from your bones, armor was essential. A good flak jacket could take a lot of heat and damage and was better protection than a Kevlar vest when dealing with a dragon’s natural weapons. Over the years, however, our enemies started to realize that firearms were just as efficient, and now were just as likely to shoot us as blast us with flame. Still, when forced into their natural forms, dragons always fell back to their deadliest weapons. Our black-and-gray combat uniforms were made of flame-retardant fabric and lined with steel plates; they couldn’t protect us from everything, especially a direct blast of dragonfire, but it was better than going into battle with nothing.

The point was, I was comfortable in armor. The more padding and steel between me and my enemy, the better. I’d been through missions where my armor had been ripped to shreds, burned and cut to pieces, and if I hadn’t had it on, I would have been dead. I didn’t like feeling vulnerable or exposed. And there were few things flimsier than shorts and the loose black tank top I was wearing at the moment. I might as well have walked around this beach stark naked.

“You’re sulking again,” Tristan remarked from the driver’s seat, not looking up from the window. Like me, he wore shorts and a tank top, the picture of a fist with the thumb and pinkie held out gracing the front. Unlike me, it didn’t seem to bother him.

“I’m not sulking.”

“Right. Brooding, then.” He fell silent as a young couple walked by the Jeep, close enough to touch his arm dangling out the window, but he didn’t even glance their way. His gaze hadn’t left the group at the edge of the parking lot. “We’ve been here over three weeks, partner,” he informed me, as if I’d lost track. “You’re going to have to get used to it sometime. This is where that whole adapting-and-blending-in thing applies. Can’t walk around the beach in full combat armor, even if there is a dragon nearby.”

I knew that. I also knew the Order required us to finish this mission, regardless of my personal feelings. Guns and dragons and fighting and death: that was what I was good at. Long stakeouts in a cheerful town surrounded by civilians, less so. “Do you still have the targets in sight?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

He snorted, again without looking back. “Garret, I can hold the crosshairs on a target for two hours without moving it or dropping the scope,” he said irritably. “I think I can keep an eye on a bunch of teenage girls.”

I let the jab slide. It had been a frustrating three weeks. Three weeks of research, of watching the beach 24/7, observing the different groups, weeding out tourists, family units, the poor, the employed. From the intelligence we’d received, we knew that the sleeper dragon was young, well-off and it would be drawn to the popular, pretty crowd in order to fit in. The clique that “owned” the beach, so to speak. After countless hours of investigation, we’d finally narrowed it down to a group of teens who were out here nearly every day, and usually together. Any one of them could be our target.

Phase one, complete. Now, we were almost ready for phase two, the part I’d been dreading. The part where I’d have to infiltrate the group, get them to trust me and discover which of them was a fire-breathing monster of legend.

I had no idea how I was going to do that.

“Well, well,” Tristan muttered, causing me to glance across the lot again. “Looks like they’re about to take off with a bunch of frat boys. That could be problematic.”

I followed his gaze to where a Jeep similar to our black one was pulling out of its parking space. Two of the girls, the blond and the brunette, sat wedged between a pair of strange guys in the back. All four were laughing and talking, and had beer bottles in their hands. The other, the small redhead, sat up front, her eyes trained out the window like she really didn’t want to be there. Her surfboard stuck precariously out of the back as they squealed off down the road.

I glanced at my partner. “What now?”

He put the Jeep in Reverse and backed out of the lot. “Easy. We follow them.”

Ember

It was late afternoon when we got to the cove, which was flanked on two sides by a wall of windswept cliffs that sheltered it from waves and casual tourists. The small white beach leading down to the water was completely empty, though if we waited a few hours for the sun to set, that would change. Lone Rock Cove was not a place normally visited during the day, as the broken bottles, trash and other things lying in the sand indicated. A single large boulder sat in the center of the beach halfway between the cliff walls and the ocean, giving the alcove its name.

I made a face. I didn’t want to be here. The three guys had been drinking most of the way, ignoring the fact that this was very illegal, and had encouraged Lexi and Kristin to do the same. They’d tried to get me to drink, too, and under normal circumstances I would’ve joined in. But they still made me nervous, and I didn’t think getting tipsy around them was a good idea. One of the guys, Colin, kept trying to put his hands on me, and I kept squirming out of his grip, my temper fraying thinner with every attempt. If he only knew the true face of the girl he was feeling up so intently...he’d probably wet himself.

Keep it together, Ember. You do not want to cook this idiot like a marshmallow s’more, even if he is asking for it.

“Hey,” Drew said, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun and squinting at the far cliffs. “Is that...a cave?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kristin shrugged. “Not much of a cave, really. Just a big hole that fills up with water when the tide comes in.”

“Let’s go check it out.”

“Uh, let’s not,” I said firmly. No way was I letting my two friends go marching into a dark, lonely cave with these guys. My mind was made up; I definitely didn’t like them. Pulling back from Colin, I grabbed Kristin’s arm and steered her away from Drew, who scowled. “Thanks, but we really should get home now. I promised my aunt I’d be back by six.” A lie, but I wanted to get out of here. “Come on, Lex.”

Kristin pulled out of my grasp and rubbed her arm, frowning. “I want to stay,” she said. “You two can go on. I want to show Drew the cave.”

So not going to happen. I glared at Kristin, wondering what she would do if I dragged her out by that pretty but empty head of hair. “We came here in one car, genius. You’re looking to hitchhike home if you stay.”

“Hey, now.” Thick arms wrapped around me from behind, and Colin pulled me back to his chest. “Relax,” he breathed in my ear. “You’re so uptight. Let them see the cave—what’s going to happen? You can wait here with me.”

I stiffened, arching away from him. He chuckled, and his grip tightened. “Come on. Don’t be like that.”

“Get off me,” I growled, pushing at his chest. Don’t Shift, Ember. If you Shift and eat this troll, Talon will lock you away for the rest of your life. Plus, you’d probably get food poisoning.

“Let her go, dickwad,” Lexi snapped, finally sensing the danger. A little late, I thought, trying to keep his lips away from my face and his hands off my butt. “She said she doesn’t want to, so leave her alone. Kristin, come on. Let’s get out of here.”

The other boys protested. Colin ignored them all and clutched me tighter. “Just relax, beautiful,” he murmured, nuzzling along my neck. “We’ll have more fun if you relax.” Raising his head, he pressed thick, sloppy lips to mine.

My temper and disgust flared. Planting my feet, I shoved him. Hard.

He flew backward and landed on his butt in the sand, a startled grunt escaping him. For a second, he stared at me in shock. Then his face went red, and he leaped up with a snarl.

“Bitch!”

I didn’t see the slap coming. I mean, I did, but I wasn’t expecting it. In my sixteen years, no one had ever hit me. Annoyed swats upside the head, or taps with a ruler when I wasn’t paying attention, but they’d never really struck me. Not even Scary Talon Lady had ever laid a hand on me. I wasn’t prepared for the explosion of pain behind my eyes, the world tilting violently, feeling sand under my hands and knees when I fell.

The instant rush of fire through my veins, my dragon surging up with a roar, ready to blast this puny human to cinders.

Lexi and Kristin screamed. I clamped down on my fury, gritting my teeth with the effort not to Shift, not to erupt into scales and teeth and claws and show this human true fear. My fingers crushed the ground beneath me, the nails elongating into curved talons, and I buried them in the sand. My nostrils flared, and my lungs burned with heat as I bowed my head, fighting to stay in control. I knew my eyes had gone slitted and reptilian, and didn’t dare lift my head as the disgusting human stepped closer. I trembled and squeezed my eyes shut. If he so much as touched me, there would be nothing but a pile of bones and ash when I was done.

“Hey!”

The shout came from behind us. I raised my head just as something slammed into Colin from the side, pushing him off. He flew backward again, tripped and went sprawling in the sand. Blinking, I craned my head up and looked into the face of a boy.

My heart gave a weird little flutter. I’d been around Lexi for over a month, listening to her gush about boys, watching her point out the “gorgeous” ones. I understood human beauty now, and I’d even reached the point where I could nudge Lexi toward a cute guy, and she would agree that he was hot, but I still didn’t get the fascination.

Maybe all that boy-watching had finally sunk in, because this stranger was, to use two of Lexi’s favorite words, absolutely gorgeous.

He was about my age, maybe a little older, with cropped hair that glinted a pale gold in the sunlight. He was tan, lean and muscular, as if he 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 for the summer, that we had an apartment farther down the main strip. When they pressed me further for information—where I came from, where my parents were—I had the answers ready. I’d come here from Chicago. My dad was a disabled veteran, and my uncle had invited me here for the summer. The lies flowed smoothly and easily, though the boy in the story—the one who attended Kennedy High and lived on Mulligan Avenue and had a beagle named Otis—was a complete stranger to me. An imposter, living a made-up life.

I wondered if any of these three were doing the same.

We finally pulled into the parking lot along the main stretch of beach, and the girls piled out, Lexi and Kristin stumbling a bit as they exited the vehicle. Ember smoothly grabbed Lexi’s arm and steered her aside, preventing her from walking into another beachgoer, then turned to me.

“Um.” Her green eyes appraised me, boldly direct. “Thank you,” she said, “for today. For getting rid of those trolls. You and Tristan both. Lexi and Kristin are a little too tipsy to know what could’ve happened down there, but...thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, meeting her gaze. “We were happy to help.”

She smiled, and I felt a weird twist in the pit of my stomach. Odd. At that moment, though, Kristin’s face appeared in the window, smiling as she leaned in.

“So, it’s my birthday this week,” she told us in a breathy, slightly slurred voice. Ember rolled her eyes and walked to the back of the Jeep to get her surfboard, but Kristin continued to lean against my door. “And I’m having a party Saturday, no parents on the premises. They’ll be gone for the whole weekend, so...yeah. Pool table, hot tub on the patio, open unlocked bar?” She peered at me from beneath her lashes, blinking rapidly. I wondered if she had something in her eye. “You guys wanna come? I’ll give you the address.”

“Ooh, yes, you totally should!” Lexi added, peeking in over her shoulder, crowding the window. I leaned back to give myself some space. “Come party with us. It’ll be great!”

Saturday. Today was Monday; that was five days from now, plenty of time to do more legwork on these three, find out more about them. I shared a glance with Tristan. He raised both eyebrows, and I turned back to the girls with a shrug. “Sure, sounds good to us.”

They beamed. Kristin gave us the address, then all three strode across the parking lot toward the emptying beach and the sun setting over the waves. I waited until they were out of earshot, then muttered, “What now? What’s the plan?”

Tristan smiled grimly and put the Jeep in Reverse. “Now, the real mission begins.”

Ember

From the edge of the parking lot, I watched the black Jeep pull onto the road, pick up speed and cruise out of sight. Garret’s pale hair glimmered once in the dying afternoon sun, and then he was gone.

I sighed.

“Man.” Lexi echoed my sigh, leaning against my shoulder. Not long ago, the unexpected contact would’ve made me shrink back. Now, I planted my feet to balance both her and my surfboard on the other side. “There go two smoking-hot human beings. Think they’ll come to the party like they said they would?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered. In the weeks I’d been here, I’d seen pretty humans come and go. From lean fellow surfers, to suntanned volleyball players, to charismatic boys and sultry girls on the prowl for summer romance or a good time. The three trolls we’d run into today were very much in the “icky” category of the good time, but they weren’t unusual. They were here for a finite number of days, and then they’d be gone like everyone else.

Garret was probably no different. A pretty face that I would see only once, before he vanished into the unknown, never to be glimpsed again. I knew that. All the locals in Crescent Beach followed an unofficial rule: don’t get attached to tourists. Summer flings were fine. Kissing and long walks on the beach, making out under the stars, going to parties and doing it in the hot tub, all fine. But never promise, or let them promise, “forever.” Because no matter how much you liked them, no matter how perfect everything was, at the end of the summer they would always return home. And you’d be left with beautiful memories and the longing for what had been and what could never be again. Of course, I didn’t understand that attraction, how someone could get so attached to someone else. I figured it was a human thing and didn’t worry much about it.

Though there was something about Garret that was...strange. Something I couldn’t quite pin down. The way he held himself, perhaps, so careful and controlled. Or that split-second look in his eyes right before Colin attacked him: flat, hard and dangerous. He exuded confidence, but at the same time, there was an uncertainty to him, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do, how to act. I sensed that the calm, stoic front he put up was a wall, and if I dug a little deeper, I would find a completely different person on the other side.

I wondered if I would ever see him again. And if I did, I wondered if I could somehow break through that dignified shell to the person beneath.

I gave myself a mental shake. What was I thinking? Garret was a stranger and, more important, he was a human. I would not ruin the rest of the summer pining over the—admittedly gorgeous—ghost of a human boy. Especially if I had to deal with Scary Talon Lady for the next two months. My summer was already short enough.

“Probably not,” I told Lexi, who gave another heartfelt sigh and straightened, tossing her hair back. I picked up my surfboard and turned toward the beach, just as Kristin wandered back from grabbing her purse from her car. “Come on,” I said to both of them. “Walk me to the Smoothie Hut. I need a Mango Swirl to get this taste out of my mouth.”

Later, with the evening sun setting over the water, we sipped our drinks and chatted about the day’s adventures, a basket of cheese sticks between us on the table. We talked of Garret and Tristan’s valiant rescue, and joked about Kristin’s bad taste in guys. Of course, Lexi agreed with me that the three frat boys were absolute creepers, and vehemently denied that she’d thought any of them were cute. But when she expressed her desire to castrate Colin with a pair of rusty pruning shears for hitting me, my stomach went cold at what had almost happened.

What would Talon do to me, I wondered, if I’d killed that human? If I’d Shifted right there and bitten his head off? Blasted him to cinders, right in front of Lexi, Kristin and everyone else? I remembered the smoldering heat in my lungs, the way my back had itched, ready to burst open with wings and scales. The way my human body had suddenly felt very tight and confined as I’d clamped down with everything I had, trying not to change. The blaze of fury as my dragon had surged up with a roar, wanting to shred that human into bloody confetti.

I shivered, appalled at my own violent thoughts. And, even more frightening, annoyed that I hadn’t gotten to Shift into my natural form and pop the human like a balloon. Wonder if I should tell Dante about this, I thought, as Kristin said goodbye and left for a “lame-ass family event” and Lexi excused herself to go to the restroom. I guess I should; he’ll probably hear about it from Lex or Kristin, anyway. I just hope he doesn’t do the whole overprotective twin-brother freakout.

And then, I got that weird tickle on the back of my neck, a second before the rogue dragon slid into the seat across from me.

“Hey, Firebrand.”

The cool, sarcastic voice rippled through me, stoking a flame to life. It was as if my dragon had never died down, never settled into sleepy compliance. At the rogue dragon’s presence, it perked up again, instantly awake and aware. My eyes widened, and I sat back in my seat, staring at him.

The boy across from me smiled and casually helped himself to a cheese stick, oblivious to the heat singing through my veins. “Mind if I sit here?”

I could see the dragon in him, in his near-golden eyes, in the slightly dangerous grin he flashed me over the table, the smile of a predator. I could feel the flames burning within, my own dragon rising up to either challenge or accept, I wasn’t sure which. I did know one thing: talking to the rogue could get me in a lot of trouble, both from my trainer and Talon itself. And I didn’t care one iota.

My dragon snapped and flared, wanting out. I took a deep breath to cool myself off, and smirked back. “Free country.” I shrugged. “Do whatever you like.”

“Interesting choice of words.” The other dragon cocked his head, one corner of his lip twitching. I noticed he had a tattoo half-hidden beneath the collar of his shirt, some sort of Celtic knot or design. “But it’s not entirely free for us, is it?”

I blinked and frowned slightly. “Um, hi, I’m Ember. It’s nice to meet you, weird, cryptic statements aside.” My dragon snorted at me, disgusted. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

He grinned, and it made my skin flush. “You don’t know what I am, do you?”

“You’re a rogue,” I answered, abandoning all pretense of ignorance. Subtlety was never my strong suit. His grin grew wider, showing even white teeth, and I lowered my voice. “I don’t care that you’re a rogue, but why are you here? You could get in a lot of trouble if Talon found out. Aren’t you afraid the Vipers could be looking for you?”

He actually chuckled at that. “I’m sure they are. But what about you, Firebrand? You realize you could get into a lot of trouble just by talking to me, right? If Talon ever found out their vulnerable little hatchling was conversing with a big dangerous rogue, they might pull you back to the nest. Or they might see you as a collaborator, and then the Vipers would come after us both. That doesn’t scare you?”

“I haven’t told you to go away, have I?” I asked, avoiding the question. Though the answer, of course, was yes. No one in their right mind wanted a Viper after them. There were dark rumors surrounding Talon’s most mysterious agents, and all of them were terrifying. I certainly wouldn’t want a Viper on my tail, though I wasn’t about to tell him that.

The rogue raised an eyebrow, appraising me, and I met his stare head-on. Vipers or no Vipers, I was curious. Except for my brother and our trainers, who didn’t count, I hadn’t seen another dragon in years. “Who are you?” I asked, determined to satisfy some of my curiosity. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” He leaned back, still appraising, and gave me a lazy smile. “I don’t know, Firebrand. That seems like an awful lot of faith to put in a complete stranger. How do I know you won’t turn me in? Run back to the organization and tell them you saw a rogue hanging around the Smoothie Hut?” He snatched another cheese stick and waggled it in my face. “That wouldn’t go well for me.”

“I won’t turn you in,” I promised. “I didn’t before, when I first saw you last month.” He ignored me, biting into the cheese stick with a grin, and I frowned. “You were looking for me, weren’t you?” I guessed, remembering the way he’d stared at me, golden eyes piercing even from across the parking lot. “Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“And you’re not answering any of them.” I swatted his hand away from the last of the cheese sticks. “Stop playing games. If you were scared I was going to turn you in, you wouldn’t have sat down in the first place. So what do you want?”

He laughed, his deep, low voice sending tendrils of heat curling through me. “All right, you have me there. I’ll stop beating around the bush, then.” Shaking his head, he gave me an appraising look. “Let me ask you a question. How much do you really know about Talon?”

I cast a furtive look at the other tables, making sure no one could hear us. Or that Lexi was not returning from the bathroom. “What kind of question is that?” I said, lowering my voice. “I know as much as the next, um, person. The organization exists to ensure our safety and survival. Every member has a place, and everything they do is to help our race grow stronger.”

The rogue sneered. “Textbook answer, Firebrand. Bravo, you know exactly what they want you to say.”

I bristled. “Says the traitor who ran away from Talon and is living on the run like a criminal. For all I know, everything out of your mouth is a lie.”

“Don’t kid yourself.” The rogue’s voice was suddenly grave, his expression darkening. “I know things about...them...that you don’t. I’ve seen the inside of the organization. I know how they work. And I’m here to warn you, little Firebrand. Be careful. What they show you is barely scratching the surface.”

I thought of my sadistic trainer, her intense gaze following me around the office building, and shivered. “What do you mean?”

“You want answers?” He rose with a shifting of leather and bike chains, gazing down at me. “Meet me at Lover’s Bluff tomorrow at midnight.” His near-golden eyes danced, and he smiled evilly. “That’s past curfew, so you’ll have to play rogue yourself if you want the truth.”

I crossed my arms. “So, you want me to meet a complete stranger out on a lonely cliff in the middle of the night? Seems like you expect an awful lot of faith from me.”

The rogue smiled. “Touché.” Putting one hand on the table, he leaned in and lowered his voice so that only I could hear him. “My name is Riley,” he said, and his nearness made my insides churn. He smelled of dust and chains and leather, and, beneath that, the faintest hint of wind and sky. Impossible to sense unless you’d actually been there. “That’s my human name, anyway,” the rogue continued. “If you want my real name, I’ll tell you tomorrow...if you decide to show. If you’re too scared, just don’t show up, and I’ll know where we stand. You’ll never see me again.”

“And if I do decide to show?”

He chuckled. “Firebrand,” he murmured, his voice going even softer, “think about it. Two dragons, on an isolated cliff overlooking the ocean, with no humans around for miles and no Talon to stop us. What do you think we’re going to do?”

If my dragon was excited before, she could barely be contained now. My back itched beneath my shirt, wings straining to break free, to unfurl and flap away into the sky right then. The rogue—Riley—grinned, as if he could sense my reaction, and straightened, gazing down at me.

“Tomorrow night,” he whispered, and then he sauntered away without looking back. Deep inside, something in me mourned to see him go.

“Oh. My. God!” Lexi squeaked, dropping onto the bench across from me, her eyes big and round. “Was that Gorgeous Biker Boy that just left? Did he actually talk to you? What did he say? What did he want?”

I shrugged. “Nothing, Lex,” I said, feeling bad for lying, but of course, I couldn’t tell her the truth. What had happened between Riley and me was dragon business; humans had no part in it. She gave me an incredulous look, and I sighed. “Fine, but don’t yell at me for bursting your bubble. He asked if I wanted to take a ride on his power machine.” I paused. “Not the motorcycle.”

“Oh.” Lexi thought about that for a second, then wrinkled her nose. “Ew! So he was just a disgusting perv, after all, huh? That’s too bad, he was really, really hot.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly, standing up, thinking of the rogue dragon’s last words. His challenge to meet him after curfew, to fly with him, when he knew how dangerous that was, for both of us.

I shouldn’t. I should inform Talon that the rogue was still hanging around. That was what I was supposed to do. Rogue dragons were dangerous; everyone in the organization knew it. They were unstable, unpredictable and put the survival of our race in jeopardy. The rogue could be lying about Talon, just to get me out in the open. My rational, logical side warned me not to even think about sneaking out, breaking curfew and meeting a total stranger on an empty cliff after midnight.

Unfortunately, my dragon had other plans.

Garret

“You still haven’t told me the plan,” I told Tristan as we walked through a pair of sliding glass doors. After we’d left the girls at the beach, he’d driven to the nearest gas station and headed to the hugely advertised “beer cave” at the back. I followed him into the chilly interior, letting the doors shut behind us. “The girl’s party is only a few days from now. What’s the objective for this weekend?”

“Garret.” Tristan looked back at me. “Relax. It’s a party. There is no set objective. You’re just there to hang out, fit in, get them to trust you. Surely you can do that.”

“I have never been to a party,” I said in a flat voice, which was true. The Order saw such things as frivolous, and anything that took time away from training was not only considered wasteful, it was dangerous. “I’m not sure what constitutes �hanging out.’”

“I’m sure it’ll come to you.” He headed to the back corner, stacked floor to ceiling with boxes of alcohol. I continued to glare at him, and he sighed. “Look, just think of it as an exercise. Observe and blend in. Try to think like the enemy. You’ve done that before, right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the same thing. Adapt. Engage in conversation. Smile sometimes.” He grabbed the nearest twelve-pack and tossed it at me. I caught it, and my partner shook his head with a grin. “Poor Garret. He can face down fire-breathing dragons and leap from a helicopter at two hundred feet, but stick him with a bunch of adolescents and he falls apart.”

I ignored the jab, holding up the twelve-pack of beer. “What’s this for?”

“Forget torture and interrogation. You want someone to spill their guts, share a secret or reveal they’re actually a twenty-foot winged lizard that can breathe fire?” Tristan smiled wickedly and picked up another case. “This is the quickest way. Besides, most parties nowadays are BYOB.”

“What?”

“Bring your own booze.” Tristan rolled his eyes. “Seriously, partner. We do have a television in the bunkhouse. Sometimes, too much training is a bad thing.”

“I don’t drink.” Not that the Order didn’t allow it; in a profession as dangerous as ours, they recognized the soldiers’ need to unwind, as long as it didn’t devolve into drunken stupidity. But alcohol muted the senses and made people do silly, incomprehensible things. I wanted to be fully in control of myself, always.

“Everyone at this party does, I guarantee it,” Tristan said. “And you, my friend, are going to, as well, if you want to blend in.” He shouldered the case and turned toward the exit. I followed, grabbing a two-liter of Coke for the drive home.

Back at the apartment, I put the beer in the refrigerator and sat down at the laptop on the kitchen table. Opening a secure link to Order Intelligence, I paused a moment, then typed, Requesting subject analysis into the subject line at the top. Continuing to the body of the email, I wrote, Garret Xavier Sebastian, ID 870012. Requesting detailed background information on potential targets: Alexis Thompson, Kristin Duff and Ember Hill. Location: Crescent Beach, CA. Importance: high. Response: immediate.

Clicking the send button, I closed the laptop and leaned back in the chair, thinking of the encounter this afternoon. My mind kept drifting back to the red-haired girl, Ember. The other two girls I’d nearly forgotten, though I knew I shouldn’t write them off so quickly. But Ember was the one that mattered. When she’d first looked at me on the beach, my entire body had seized up for a moment, something I’d never experienced before. I couldn’t catch my breath; I couldn’t do anything except stare at her. And for a split second, I’d wondered if she knew who I was, why I was there.

Fortunately, Tristan had appeared, and the fight with the college students had cleared my head, though I was still fairly annoyed with myself for losing focus. I was a soldier. What had happened between me and the girl, whatever that was...it was a fluke, something that wouldn’t happen again. I knew my mission. I was here to find and kill a dragon. Nothing else mattered.

I had to stay focused. I would not let myself be distracted by thoughts of a red-haired girl with bright green eyes, even though she’d surprised me today and made me laugh. Even though I admired her fierceness in standing up for herself and her friend.

Even though, hours later, I could not seem to get her out of my head.

Ember

“Hey, Dante, do you ever miss flying?”

My twin looked up from his desk and open laptop. We were hanging out in his room with me sprawled on the bed, flipping through a surfing magazine while he streamed videos on his laptop. The window was open, and a cool breeze filtered through the curtains, smelling of sand and seawater. The digital clock on his dresser read 11:22 p.m. Late, but I was too nervous and excited to sleep, despite the somewhat exhausting day I’d had. Determined to make up for yesterday’s dud waves, I’d dragged Lexi out past the reef this afternoon, and we’d surfed until the sun went down. Of course, this was after my training session with the dragon from hell, hauling bags of compost around the building for two hours straight. It took a thirty-minute shower and three scrubbings of shampoo to wash the stench from my hair, and I was positive my instructor got the extrarank bags just to spite me.

Dante gave me a strange look. “Yeah,” he answered, swiveling in his chair to face me. “Occasionally. Why? Do you?”

“All the time,” I admitted, closing the magazine. “I mean, that’s why I love surfing—it’s the closest thing I can get to flying, but it’s not the same.”

“Oh? I thought it was because you loved getting pounded by waves and bashed against reefs and nearly drowning.” Dante grinned and shook his head at me. “Typically, you’re supposed to start with tiny waves and work up to the monsters. You’re not supposed to go charging into eighteen-foot surf on your first lesson.”

“Calvin said I was a natural.”

“Calvin nearly got his ear chewed off by Aunt Sarah when she heard what happened.” My twin’s expression darkened. “This was after he nearly got his head bitten off by your furious brother when they dragged you out of the water that day.”

“I said I was sorry about that.” We were getting off topic, and I held up my hands. “Anyway, the point is, I miss flying. A lot. Do you...” I fiddled with the edge of the blanket. “Do you ever think about...breaking the rules?”

Dante frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well...sneaking out. Finding some lonely corner of the beach, where no human could possibly see us, and...Shifting. Just for a few minutes, just enough to go flying around—”

“No.”

Dante’s voice was sharp. I blinked in surprise, looking up at him. His face was grave, worried, his brows drawn together in a serious frown. “We can’t do that, Ember. Ever. Tell me you’re not thinking about it.”

My stomach twisted, but I shrugged. “Sure, I think about it sometimes,” I said, keeping my voice light, uncaring. “But that doesn’t mean I’d actually do it.”

“Good.” Dante relaxed. “Because if we ever did something like that and Talon found out?” He shivered. “At best, they’d call us back for reeducation. At worst, they might think we went rogue. Like that dragon we saw on our first day here. You don’t see him around anymore, do you?”

I studied a loose thread on the blanket. “No.”

Guilt prickled. I hated lying to my brother, but there was certainly no way I was telling him about the rogue. The first time we’d seen him, Riley had disappeared and, coincidentally, our trainers had arrived the very next day. Dante never spoke of the incident in the parking lot, evading the question or ignoring it completely when I asked. I strongly suspected he had done something, informed Talon about the rogue dragon, and Riley’d had to get out of town before the Vipers came for him.

Now, not only was he back, he had challenged me to come flying with him, defying Talon and all their rules, daring me to do the same. And, though my dragon practically jumped out of my skin at the chance, the situation with Dante made me a little sad. I’d always told my brother everything before, but there was no way I was letting him in on this little secret. Riley could vanish, for good this time. I wasn’t going to let him get away again.

Maybe sensing my mood, Dante rose, walked over and dropped beside me, putting a hand on my back. “I know it’s hard sometimes,” he said as I picked morosely at the string. “But it won’t be forever. We should just enjoy this while we can. I don’t want to risk losing what we have here. And...I don’t want to risk us getting separated. So, we have to follow the rules for now, okay, sis?”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered. “You don’t have to go to class with the sadistic dragon from hell. I bet you’ve never had to haul bricks or tires or bags of dung around the room while your trainer yells at you to go faster. And you’re always home before me, it seems.” I glared up at him, almost a challenge. “What do you do every morning, anyway?”

Dante shrugged. “I told you,” he answered, his voice way too casual. “Boring stuff. Politics and Human Sciences. Learning the names of world leaders and their laws and what they had for breakfast. Nothing nearly as exciting as your mornings.”

He ruffled my hair, knowing how much I hated that, and I swatted his arm away. It ended in a short scuffle on the mattress, with his arm wrapped around my head, mussing my hair, while I snarled and yelled at him to get off.

“Ember. Dante.” There was a short tap on the door, and Uncle Liam peered in, eyes narrowed. “We’re going to bed,” he stated, which meant it was now 11:30 p.m., on the dot. “Keep it down if you’re going to be awake much longer.”

“Yes, Uncle,” we answered together, and Liam looked at me.

“Also, Ember. Your instructor called. She wants you at your session earlier than normal tomorrow, so set your alarm back an hour.”

“What? That means I’ll have to get up at five!”

“Then you’d best go to bed soon,” Liam replied briskly, and shut the door.

I shoved Dante off, stood and ran my fingers through my hair, fuming but still afraid he would hear my sudden, rapid heartbeat.

“Guess I’ll turn in, too,” I muttered, frowning at my twin to hide my unease. “Since I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn. And don’t give me that look. I don’t see your trainer dragging you out of bed at ungodly o’clock.” He just grinned unsympathetically and watched me from the nest of rumpled blankets. I sighed. “What about you? When are you going to bed?”

Dante snorted. “I don’t know, Aunt Sarah. But I’ll be sure to tell you when I’m getting sleepy so you can read me a story.”

“Oh, shut up.” I turned and opened the door. “Smart-ass. Good night, Tweedledum.” A stupid nickname I’d latched on to when we’d first watched Alice in Wonderland as kids. I remembered being fascinated by the fat, bumbling cartoon twins, and started calling my brother by that name, just to annoy him. It had stuck ever since.

“Wait.” Dante looked up with a fake pleading expression. “Before you go, could you turn on my night-light and bring me a glass of water?”

I shut the door.

The house was quiet, cloaked in shadow. Normally, a pale, silvery light shone through the large bay windows from the moon outside, but tonight, the rooms seemed darker, more foreboding. I tiptoed across the hall to my room, making sure the light to Aunt Sarah and Uncle Liam’s bedroom was turned off. Dante’s light remained on, of course, but Dante wouldn’t barge into my room in the middle of the night.

Shutting my door, I flipped off the light and leaned against the wall for a second, my heart still pounding wildly. Up until this moment, I hadn’t really known if I was going to do this. Sneak out, break curfew, meet with a dangerous rogue dragon on a lonely bluff. Now, it wasn’t a question. Riley said there were things about Talon that I didn’t know, and I was suddenly very curious what those things were, but that wasn’t the only reason I was doing this. I was tired of Talon, my instructor, my training and their endless rules. I needed to fly, to feel the wind under my wings, or I was going to snap.

Climbing over the sill, I dangled for a moment, then dropped, landing with a soft thump in the cool sand. Straightening, I hugged the side of the house, making my way around to where my bike lay slumped against the corner of the fence. I couldn’t take the car, of course, and the spot I was headed was only about five miles away. Not too far. I just had to get home before sunrise.

As I pushed my bike to the brightly lit sidewalk, I paused to look back at the house. Dante’s light was still on, but if I knew him, he would be glued to the computer screen. The guardians were both in bed, lights off, curtains drawn. No one would see me creep down the road and disappear into the night, to go flying with a complete stranger after midnight.

You know you’re breaking about a dozen sacred rules here, Ember.

I shook off my fear. No, no second guesses. I’d followed their rules long enough. Tonight, I was going to fly.

Taking a deep breath, I swung my leg over the bike and pushed off down the street, feeling my doubts get smaller and smaller with every cycle. By the time I’d reached the corner, and my house had been swallowed up by the darkness, they were gone entirely.

Garret

“Come on,” Tristan muttered from the edge of the roof. “Put some clothes on, man.”

I paused in the doorway that led to the roof of our apartment complex, wondering if I shouldn’t turn around and go back inside. Every night from the time we arrived, we’d take turns on the roof of this building, scanning the sky, watching for glimpses of scales or wings. A long shot, to be certain, but better than sitting around doing nothing.

Sighing, I closed the door and walked up behind him. He stood at the corner, peering through a pair of binoculars, gazing at the darkening horizon. “Anything?”

“Other than a guy grilling on the balcony in his birthday suit, no.” Tristan didn’t lower the binoculars, didn’t even move as he said this. “Did you get a chance to read the report that came back?”

“Yes,” I answered, having just come from the kitchen and the open email file on the laptop. Re: Requesting subject analysis, the subject line read. The body of the email contained the names of the subjects I’d designated and a little information about each of them: age, parents, addresses, where they were born. Everything looked pretty ordinary...except for one thing.

Ember Hill: Age 16. Mother: Kate Hill, deceased. Father: Joseph Hill, deceased.

Both parents, dead. In a fatal car accident, apparently. Everything below that was fairly normal. Ember and her brother, Dante, were born at St. Mary’s Hospital in Pierre, South Dakota. Their birth certificates listed them as twins, with Dante being born three minutes ahead of his sister, making him the eldest. They appeared to have had a normal childhood, though there was little information beyond where and when they were born and how their parents had died. Though that might mean any number of things, most Talon sleepers had one thing in common. They were all “orphans,” living with relatives or guardians, or adopted into another family. Their human records meant nothing; all Talon operatives had birth certificates, records of where they were born, social security numbers, everything. Talon was nothing if not thorough, but the orphan thing always stood out.

“So,” Tristan went on as I picked up the second pair of binoculars and joined him at the edge. “I’ve been thinking. Of those three girls we met yesterday, did any of them scream �dragon’ to you?”

“No,” I replied, raising the binoculars. “They all seemed perfectly normal.”

“Yes,” Tristan agreed. “And Talon has taught them to blend in. But of those three, who would be the one you would pick for the sleeper?”

“Ember,” I said immediately. There was no doubt in my mind. She was pretty, she was intelligent and she had a fierceness that the other two lacked. “But she has a sibling,” I went on, glancing over at him. “And dragons only lay one egg at a time. So it can’t be her.”

“That’s true,” Tristan said slowly. “But here’s the thing, Garret. There are exceptions to the rules. Just because it’s highly improbable for a tiger to have a white cub doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened. Just because whales only have one calf at a time doesn’t mean they’ve never had twins. There are anomalies in every species, so who’s to say that a dragon can’t lay a pair of eggs at once? We know that dragons are loners, and that they plant only one sleeper at a time. But our own understanding could be holding us back.” Tristan lowered the binoculars and finally looked at me dead-on. “What if we accepted the idea that there could be more than one dragon in Crescent Beach? Now how does that girl look to you?”

A chill ran up my spine at the thought. “Are you saying that Ember is our sleeper?”

“No.” Tristan sighed. “Not yet. We can’t make a move, of course, unless we’re absolutely sure. That means you have to see the sleeper in its true form, or have indisputable evidence that it’s a dragon. If we guess wrong and expose the Order to the public, or worse, take out a civilian...” He shuddered. “Let’s just say we’d better be damn sure we have the right target.”

“I’m still not entirely sure how I’m going to do that,” I admitted, finally voicing the concern that had been plaguing me since I’d received this mission. “Yes, we have a few leads, but I have no idea how I’m going to convince a dragon to show its true self. I mean, isn’t that exactly what Talon trains them not to do?”

I felt very weak then, admitting that I was unsure, hating that there wasn’t a tangible enemy I could take down. I wasn’t like Tristan, patient, calculating, willing to wait as long as it was required for the target to show itself. I wanted to see the target right then, to know what I was up against, what I could shoot at.

Tristan shook his head and returned to scanning the sky.

“Trust,” my partner murmured, “is a very powerful thing. If you can get them to trust you, they’ll share their thoughts, their fears, their friends’ secrets, anything. They’ll tell you if their best friend can sometimes breathe fire, or if they saw some strange creature flying across the moon one night. Everyone slips up, makes a mistake. We just have to be there when they do.”

I didn’t say anything to that, and for several minutes, we scanned the horizon in silence. I thought about what Tristan had said and wondered, vaguely, how I could get a perfect stranger to open up and trust me when I could never reciprocate.

Suddenly restless, I stepped back from the edge, causing my partner to frown at me. “Where are you going?”

“This is useless.” I gestured to the sky. “We don’t need two people looking over the same spot. We’ll have better luck if we split our efforts. You stay here, keep an eye on the beach. I’m going out to scan the cliffs.”

“By yourself? And if you see the sleeper flying around, you’ll...what? Take it down alone?” Tristan shook his head. “Even hatchlings are a two-person job, Garret.”

“If I see the sleeper, I’ll observe quietly from a distance and inform you immediately.”

“Charred corpses have a notoriously difficult time placing a call.”

“It’s not going to attack me right out in the open. And when did you get to be such an uptight pain in the ass?” I walked back toward the stairs, pulling keys out of my pocket. “I’m going. If you see something, let me know, and I’ll call you the instant I spot anything remotely interesting.” Opening the door, I glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll be back at 0500. If you don’t hear from me in a couple hours, I’ve probably been eaten by a dragon.”

“Fine. If you don’t hear from me by then, it’s because I hope you were,” was the reply as the door slammed shut behind me.


Ember

Lover’s Bluff, as it was called by the locals, was a lonely outcropping of rock that jutted over the ocean, several miles past the main beach and in the middle of nowhere. In the daylight hours, it was a sightseeing and picture-taking spot. At night, it was known as the place where couples would go to prove their love, joining hands and leaping to the foaming waters below. If their love was strong enough, rumors went, they would survive. If not, one or both would drown.

Lexi claimed it was wonderfully romantic. I thought it was pretty stupid myself.

I rode my bike down the narrow road until I reached the tiny parking lot in the shadow of the bluff. At the end of the pavement, a flight of steps zigzagged to the flat outcropping of rock overlooking the waves. A guardrail hemmed in the perimeter, and a large danger sign warned you back from the edge. Not that it did much good.




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