Free Pure Magic (Black Dog Book 3) by Rachel Neumeier Page B

girl who seemed awfully young to be his girlfriend. Maybe she was older than she looked. Or maybe she was his sister. They didn’t look alike, but there was something similar about their cheekbones, maybe, or their eyes. The girl, too, was looking at Ezekiel. Justin glanced sideways, curiously, and saw that Ezekiel was gazing back at her, his expression unreadable. Even as he watched, though, Ezekiel looked deliberately away from her, bowing his head a little as he shifted his attention to Grayson Lanning.
    Justin glanced back at the girl, but she, too, was now gazing at Grayson. Off to one side, a stocky boy leaned against the table. This one looked to be about the same age as the girl, and a blind man could see that he had to be her brother. He stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, staring with intent curiosity at Justin.
    Justin was surprised to see no one in the room who was closer to Grayson Lanning’s age. It was like seeing students in the principal’s office, but on something like equal footing with the principal. Maybe werewolves just grew up fast. Maybe they died young, so there just weren’t a lot of grown-up werewolves.
    Although Justin didn’t think the Hispanic girl or her brother were werewolves. Black dogs. Whatever. Neither of them had that spiky darkness clinging to them. The girl was looking at him again now, smiling, an open, friendly smile that he found himself returning. She was wearing blue jeans and a pink blouse. Pink crystal earrings caught the light when she turned her head. She really was pretty. Cute. There was something about her, something silvery and ethereal that became more pronounced when he tried to make sense of it. Something . . . he couldn’t quite make it out . . . it was all smooth curves that tucked away in an impossible Escherian way behind and around her. Justin blinked and shook his head.
    But, when he looked past the silvery curves surrounding the girl . . . was that a faint bruise on her cheek, half-hidden by her Hispanic coloring? And if so, who had hit her? The young man with her was a werewolf, Justin was positive, and wondered again if the girl was his girlfriend and whether, if so, she was with him by choice. Surely he had not hit her? But she didn’t look at all cowed or nervous. In fact, her cheerful friendliness was deeply reassuring. She looked like she should be in high school somewhere, texting her friends about homework and boys and the latest teen-girl celebrity heartthrob, Justin Bieber or Josh Hutcherson or whoever. Justin was positive she wasn’t a werewolf.
    There was another girl farther down the table. She was half hidden from Justin by everyone else, so he hadn’t seen her right away. But the moment he noticed her, he found himself unable to look away. This girl, maybe his own age or a little older, was striking. Slender and small-breasted. Tall for a girl. Exotic, with huge dark eyes set obliquely in a triangular face. It wasn’t just beauty, though. It was attitude. This was the kind of girl hardly any boy would dare talk to, if she transferred in in the middle of the year. The kind of girl who would cut the top jocks dead if she liked, and step over their bleeding bodies. If she went to school, she would wind up leading either the most popular girls, or the goths. But Justin doubted she went to school. He was sure she was a werewolf.
    He thought she looked Turkish or something. Arabic, maybe. He’d known a Turkish girl who had looked a lot like that, only not as beautiful. This girl’s black hair fell in a heavy braid that reached past her waist. Tiny emerald dangles in her ears rang musically as she turned her head. She wore tight black jeans, an emerald green blouse with black lace around the neck, and a scornful expression.
    It might have been the scorn that made Justin realize he was staring at her. He looked away quickly.
    Ezekiel, behind him, closed a hand on his shoulder and propelled him forward a step. “This is Justin,” he