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I tried to give him plenty of room—he was blindingly gorgeous and bitingly sarcastic—not a combination I was comfortable with. But he was wearing a white button-down uniform shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and despite my best efforts, my hand brushed his bare arm as I went past him.

At the brief contact, a tingle went up my arm. No, not a tingle—an electric shock. At the same time the necklace I was still wearing, safely hidden inside my long-sleeved uniform blouse, tightened and went from ice cold to red hot in an instant.

I stumbled, suddenly dizzy, and Griffin caught me, the fingers of one long white hand curling under my arm and lifting me easily, as though I weighed no more than a kitten.

“Don’t trip, beautiful. You wouldn’t want to wind up as a laughingstock on your first day at the prestigious Nocturne Academy,” he drawled sarcastically.

“I…I…” I didn’t know what to say. Had he felt it too? The shock when our skin touched? The key was throbbing against my chest like a live coal. I was sure it was burning me but I couldn’t look away from his perfect face.

“What are you, anyway?” He leaned forward and lowered his glasses a little, giving me my first look at his eyes. They were a pale arctic gray—almost white—that reminded me of the color of lightning, with a pitch-black ring around the outside.

Striking eyes. Startling and somehow feral.

“I…I’m j-just Meg Latimer,” I stuttered, feeling like a complete fool. “I’m new here,” I added stupidly.

“Yes, I can see that, but I can also see you’re no ordinary transfer. There must be something about you—why else would you come to Nocturne?” Those piercing eyes scanned me again, narrowing in concentration as they flicked over my lanyard with its gray tag and blue and red cross. “You’re not a true Norm and you’re not a Null either—not really, no matter what this says.” He flicked the tag carelessly with his long white fingers, making my heart jump.

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” I said, and it was the truth. I still had no idea what the terms “Null” and “Norm” meant, especially when applied to me personally. Never mind all the other names that had been thrown at me lately—What were Nocturnes, Drakes, Faes, and Sisters, anyway, other than just groups at this strange school who weren’t supposed to mix?

Griffin’s own lanyard had a red tag with a wide stripe of black tape almost obscuring the red. Whatever that meant—I didn’t dare to ask him.

At last, he straightened up and released my arm.

“Never mind—it doesn’t matter. English is this way,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the main hallway.

“I…um…okay, thanks.” I stumbled over the words. His perfection was making me stupid. I told myself to stop looking at his lightning eyes and that sensual mouth of his. But it wasn’t easy.

“I too, am caught in the purgatory of remedial classes and believe me, it’s not easy being smarter than everyone else in the room,” Griffin continued carelessly. “Of course, that’s every class for me. Unless you’re planning to give me a run for my money in English, Miss Latimer?” He raised one pitch black eyebrow at me, pronouncing my name with that same, drawling sarcasm he’s used when he talked about the Academy.

“I…I don’t know. I’ll certainly try,” I somehow managed to say.

“Mmm-hmm. We’ll see.” He replaced his dark glasses finally freeing me from the intensity of his gaze. My eyes dropped from his gorgeous, remote features to the strong column of his neck…and stopped.

Barely visible between the wings of his uniform shirt collar was a chain-link necklace held together with a padlock.

It was a masculine looking piece of jewelry—something any high school boy might wear. Except that the thick links of the chain around his neck were pure matte black and the padlock that held them in place around his neck was the same color. When he moved, I saw a flash as the overhead lights caught the tiny red jewels set at the four corners of the lock.

Blood stones. Exactly like the ones in my key.

7

The key under my shirt throbbed again, getting so hot I was sure I would have blisters. Yet I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t do anything but stare at the lock and wonder what the hell was going on.

Griffin didn’t seem to notice my eyes on him. Probably he was used to being looked at. With a face and body like that, it was a wonder any girl in the whole school could look at anything else. He smelled incredible too—some cool, masculine scent I couldn’t put my finger on but which seemed to draw me to him. Not that I let myself get too close—I didn’t want to get shocked again.

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