“Dawson?” his brother called out, then spun around and rushed to his side. “Are you okay, man?”

“Freaking peachy.”

“Christ. Don’t ever scare me like that again. I thought—” Daemon cut off, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I mean it. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Dawson climbed to his feet without help, standing on shaky legs and swaying a little to the left. He looked into eyes that were identical to his own. No more words needed to be spoken. No thanks necessary.

Not when there were still more out there.

Students filed into class, yawning and still trying to rub the sleep out of their eyes. Melted snow dripped off their parkas and pooled on the scuffed floor. Dawson stretched out his long legs, propping them on the empty seat in front of him. Idly scratching his jaw, he watched the front of the room as Lesa strolled in, making a face at Kimmy, who looked horrified by what the snow had done to her hair.

“It’s just snow,” Lesa said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

Kimmy smoothed her hands over her blond hair. “Sugar melts.”

“Yeah, and shit floats.” Lesa took her seat, yanking out last night’s English homework.

A deep, low chuckle came from behind, and Dawson grinned. The girl cracked him up.

Kimmy flipped her off as she flounced to her seat, her eyes trained on him like she was planning her next meal. Dawson gave her a tight smile back, though he knew he should’ve just ignored her. To Kimmy, any attention appeared to be good attention, especially since she had broken up with Simon.

Or had Simon broken up with her?

Hell if he knew or really cared, but he didn’t have it in him to completely ignore her. Placing a zebra-print bag on her desk, Kimmy continued to smile at him for another good ten seconds before looking away.

He shook out his shoulders, positive he’d just been visually molested — and so not in a good way.

The laugh came again, and then in a voice low enough only for him to hear, “Playa. Playa…”

Stretching his arms back, he smacked at his brother’s face as he grinned. “Shut up, Daemon.”

His brother knocked his hands out of his face. “Don’t hate the game…”

Dawson shook his head, still half smiling. A lot of people, mostly humans, didn’t get Daemon like he and his sister did. Very few made him laugh like Daemon did. And even fewer pissed him off as much. But if Dawson ever needed anything or if there was an Arum nearby, Daemon was the man.

Or Luxen. Whatever.

A portly older man strolled into class, clutching a stack of papers that signaled their quizzes had been graded. A chorus of groans traveled through the room, with the exception of Daemon and him. They knew they totally aced it without even trying.

Dawson picked up his pen, rolling it between long fingers and sighing. Tuesday was already shaping up to be another long day of boring classes. He’d rather be outside, hiking in the woods despite the snow and brutal cold. His aversion to school wasn’t as bad as Daemon’s, though. Some days were worse than others, but Dawson found his classmates made the experience more tolerable. He was like his sister in that way, a people person hidden in an alien body.

He smirked.

Seconds before the bell rang, a girl hurried into class, clutching a yellow slip of paper in her hand. Immediately, he knew the chick wasn’t from around here. The fact she was in a sweater and not a heavy jacket when it was below thirty outside sort of gave it away. His gaze roamed down her legs — really nice, long, and curvy — to her thin flats.

Yep, she wasn’t from around here.

Handing over the paper to the teacher, she lifted her slightly sharp chin and gazed across the room.

Dawson’s feet hit the floor with an audible thump.

Holy crap, she was…she was beautiful.

And he knew beautiful. Their race had won the genetic roulette when they adopted human forms, but the way this girl’s elfin features were pieced together was absolute perfection. Chocolate-colored hair slid over her shoulders as she kept scanning the room. Her skin held a healthy glow from being out in the sun a lot — recently, too, from the vibrancy of it. Finely groomed eyebrows set off tilted eyes framed with heavy lashes. Warm brown eyes connected with his, then his shoulder, and then she blinked several times as if trying to clear her vision.

That kind of look happened a lot when people saw Daemon and him together for the first time. They were identical, after all. Black wavy hair, same swimmer’s build, both of them well over six feet. They shared the same features: broad cheekbones, full mouths, and extraordinarily bright green eyes. Other than their own kind, no one could tell them apart. Something both boys loved using to their advantage.

Dawson grinded his molars until his jaw ached.

For the first time, he wished there wasn’t a carbon-copy image of him. That someone would look at him — really see him and not the mirror image right beside him. And that was a completely unexpected reaction.

But then her gaze found his again and she smiled.

The pen slipped from his suddenly limp fingers, rolled across the desk, and clattered onto the floor. Heat swept across his cheeks, but his own lips responded, and there was nothing fake or forced about his reaction.

Daemon snickered as he leaned over, smacking down on the pen with his sneaker. Embarrassed to the nth degree, Dawson swiped his pen from under his brother’s shoe.

Mr. Patterson said something to her, drawing her attention, and she laughed. Feeling that husky sound all the way to his toes, he sat straighter in his seat. A prickly feeling spread over his skin.

As the tardy bell rang, she headed straight for the seat in front of him. Screw hiking in the snow. This was so not going to be another boring Tuesday.

She started digging around in her bag, searching for a pen, he guessed. Part of him knew it was a perfect excuse to break the ice. He could just offer her a pen, say hello, and go from there. But he was frozen in his seat, torn between wanting to lean forward to see what kind of perfume she was wearing and not wanting to look like a total creep.

He kept his ass planted firmly in the chair.

And…stared at the chocolate strands of her hair where they curled over the back of her seat.

Dawson scratched his neck, shoulders twitching. What was her name? And why in the hell did he care so much? This wasn’t the first time he was attracted to a human girl. Hell, many of their kind hooked up with them, since males outnumbered their females two to one. He had. Even his usually superior-complex-ridden brother had when he wasn’t with his on-and-off-again girlfriend, but still…

Glancing over her shoulder, the girl swept up her lashes, and she locked eyes with him.

Strangest thing happened then. Dawson felt the years peel away. Years of moving, of making and losing friends. Of seeing those of his kind he had grown to care for die at the hands of the Arum or the DOD. Years of trying to fit in with humans but never really becoming one of them. All of it just…slipped away.

Dazed by the sudden lifting of weight, all he could do was stare. Stare like a freaking idiot. But she stared right back.

The new girl shifted her gaze, but those warm, whiskey-colored eyes came right back to his. Her lips tipped up at the corners in a small smile, and then she faced the front of the class again.

Daemon cleared his throat and shifted his desk. His brother demanded in a low voice, “What are you thinking?”

Most of the time, Daemon knew what he was thinking. Same with Dee. They were triplets, closer than most of the Luxen. But right now, Dawson knew without a doubt that Daemon had no clue what he was thinking. ’Cuz if he did, he would’ve fallen out of his chair.