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 Hil , 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 back seat 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 age, 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 stationed overseas, but my uncle 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 days 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.