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 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 “awwed” 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’d 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 super organized 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 like a curious bug that had crawled beneath the door. “There’s been a change of plans.”

Garret

I crouched in the damp, steamy undergrowth of the Brazilian rainforest, 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 civilians. And, of course, our target.

The guards and civilians 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 staticy 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.