Sighing contentedly, Laurel reached out for David’s hand and leaned against him. She’d been back from the Academy in Avalon for only a week, and she’d missed her friends — more even than last year, though her instructor, Yeardley, had usually kept her too busy to dwell on that. She’d mastered several potions and was closing in on more. The mixings were coming more naturally too; she was getting a feel for different herbs and essences and how they should work together. Certainly not enough to strike out on her own like her friend Katya, who was researching new potions, but Laurel took pride in her progress.

Still, it was a relief to be back in Crescent City, where everything was normal and she didn’t feel so lonely. She smiled up at David as he swung his locker shut and pulled her close. It seemed monumentally unfair that she and David had only one class together this year, and despite having spent the past week with him, Laurel found herself clinging to these last few minutes before the bell rang.

She almost didn’t notice the strange tingle that made her want to turn and look behind her.

Was she being watched?

More curious than afraid, Laurel disguised the glance over her shoulder as a toss of her long blond hair. But her watcher was immediately apparent, and Laurel’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked with a pair of pale green eyes.

Those eyes weren’t supposed to be light green. They were supposed to be the rich, emerald green that once matched his hair — hair that was now a uniform black, cut short and gelled into a deceptively casual mop. Instead of a hand-woven tunic and breeches, he was dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt that, no matter how good they looked on him, had to be terribly stifling.

And he was wearing shoes. She’d hardly ever seen Tamani wearing shoes.

But light or dark, she knew his eyes — eyes that featured prominently in her dreams, as familiar to her as her own, or her parents’. Or David’s.