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the reaction she was getting around campus every time she told someone her name. She had just spent the past two days in orientation, with other first years, and once they heard her last name, they couldn’t seem to get away from her fast enough, or they acted like she was their long, lost best friend. It was fine—Eden was used to people either hating her or pretending to love her because of her last name.

“As in Graystone Academy?” Anson asked.

“Yep,” she said. She never used her name to get into places and she hated that her father’s name had done just that for her, getting Eden into the academy. They turned away thousands of paranormals each year because the school could only take so many students. Eden knew that she wasn’t as well versed as other witches. As a new witch, she shouldn’t have been accepted into the academy on her merits. Hell, she didn’t even apply to the school. Her father simply made a phone call and she was in.

“Wow,” Anson breathed. “So, your dad is Theodore Graystone?” he asked. Yeah, he sounded a little more impressed with her since she gave her name.

“Yep,” she said again. “What year are you in?” Eden asked, trying to refocus their conversation. She was suddenly feeling more awkward than usual with the way the conversation was headed.

“I’m a graduate assistant,” he admitted. “I teach photography here and I’m being groomed to take over that department when the headmaster of the arts steps down. It’s sort of like grad school, but instead of receiving a master’s degree, I’ll be placed in my new chosen career.”

“Well, aren’t you a little old to be creeping around the first year witch’s dormitory then?” Eden challenged. Anson’s smirk was back in place and she couldn’t help her smile.

“Smooth,” he said. “If you’re trying to figure out how old I am, Eden, you can just ask.”

“All right,” she said. “How old are you?”

“You first,” he challenged. “You don’t seem to be fresh out of high school yourself.”

“I’m not. I took a gap year. I’m nineteen,” she said. “I’ll be twenty in two months,” she quickly added.

Anson’s smile was easy, showing off his adorable dimples and Eden wondered how many undergrads those dimples had wooed. “I’m twenty-two,” he said. “Only three years older than you, and not too ancient for the first year witch’s dorm. At least, not in your case. The last time I checked, nineteen-year-olds were legally considered adults. That is still true—you know out in the real world, right? I’ve been cooped up in this place for a bit too long.”

“It’s still true,” she agreed.

“Hey—you coming or what?” Another guy who looked just like Anson stuck his head into her room and scowled at the two of them. “Christ—you are so very easily distracted, brother,” he said.

“Eden,” Anson breathed. “This is my twin brother, Duff,” he offered.

She nodded across the room to Duff and he smiled in at her. “Okay—I can see why you got distracted,” Duff said to his brother. “We have to get back—the meeting starts in ten minutes and we can’t be late again.”

“Meeting?” Eden asked. The brothers looked so much alike, even down to their mannerisms and that sexy little humming noise they made in the back of their throats when she asked a question.

“Shifter meeting for graduate students. It’s a safety protocol meeting that’s mandatory. Dumb ass there made me miss the last meeting, taking his stupid pictures for the paper. If we miss this one, we could lose our spots at the academy.” She had heard about a female wolf shifter who had been killed last semester on campus and wondered if their safety protocol meeting had anything to do with her murder.

“She was our friend,” Anson said, nodding.

“Wait—did you just read my mind?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I should have told you that I can do that. I have a nasty way of doing that before asking permission,” he said.

“You can chit-chat later, brother,” Duff chided. “We have eight minutes.” He pulled his brother’s arm and Anson gave her his lopsided grin and a little wave.

“See you later, Eden,” he said. She wondered if it was meant to sound like a threat or a promise, but she had to admit, she was looking forward to it.

Anson

Anson slipped into the seat next to his brother and Duff gave him a dirty look. They were two whole minutes late and their professor shot them a look, letting them know that they had been caught sneaking in after he had shut the door.

“Wanker,” Duff whispered under his breath. “This is all your fault—you and your libido and lust for pretty little witches.” She was pretty, although he’d never admit that to his brother—not now when they were being watched by all the other shifters in the classroom.

“Nice of you to join us this time, gentlemen,” Professor Burnham said. “You need to invest in watches.”

“What you need is to get laid and then maybe we can be on time for a change,” Duff mumbled under his breath. Anson looked at his brother and shook his head.

“Later,” Anson grumbled.

“As I was saying,” Professor Burnham went on, “we’re still no closer to knowing how Geneva Gunderson was murdered. All we know is that it was murder and if we’re reading all the signs right, it was a hate crime.” A collective gasp filled the lecture hall and he waited them out to be quiet.

Anson had been the one to find Geneva. She was his friend. They had known each other since their first year at Greystone and the six months that passed wasn’t enough time for him to forget the look of terror on her face. He found her laying in the woods, covered in leaves, only her face showing in the morning sunlight. He had just gone out for a run and shifted back into his human form. That was when he literally stumbled across her body. He

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