by Melissa West
“You see, human?” she says.
I nod.
“You feel?”
I shake my head—at least, in my mind it’s shaking—and she mumbles something before returning with a tiny ceramic cup. “Drink this; be better,” she says, forcing the cup to my mouth. I part my lips but not enough, so she pries the cup through the small opening and tilts it down. I cringe at the bitter taste. A mix of black coffee and lemon pours over my taste buds. My body jerks about, either from the concoction or the horrifying taste, I’m not sure. Then suddenly I feel perfect, neutral, and a tad high, like I’ve had a few too many drinks but not enough to be reckless.
“Yes?” she asks.
I nod, fighting against the stupid smile enveloping my face, but I can’t help it. I’ve felt so sick for so long. “More,” I manage to say.
She breaks into laughter, patting my hand. “You good now, child. Sleep.”
And I do.
I wake later—hours, minutes, I’m not sure. Someone approaches at my stirring. The woman from my dreams, perhaps, or maybe that was real.
“How are you feeling?”
I open my eyes, and Jackson slides closer to me. “I was so worried. You took longer to wake…I thought you may never come back to me.” He traces his hand over my face, and I jerk back, torn between the Jackson I thought I knew and the Jackson he really is—Jackson Castello, Zeus’s grandson.
I wet my lips. They’re dry and cracked. “How long have I been here?” I ask and realize that isn’t the first question. “Where am I?”
A flicker of hurt passes over his face before he answers. “Loge, at our version of a medical center. We call it the Panacea, and you’ve been here for three days.”
“No, that’s not— No.” My breathing escalates as hot tears collect in my eyes. “What happened to everyone else? Did we leave them? Did they all die? Wait, no.” A sob cuts off in my throat. “My parents, Jackson. Where are my parents?”
“Sydia. I’m so sorry,” he says, his mouth set in a deep frown, and the finality in his voice causes me to fall apart, everything culminating with this moment. All the planning, all the death, and now… My chest heaves in violent sobs, everything I’ve been through and everything I’ll never see again, showering over me. I second-guess all my decisions. I should have said good-bye to Mom before I left. I should have been more covert, more Op-like when I broke into the base. There are more regrets than I can process.
Jackson tries to pull me to his chest, but I push him away, anger mixing with my tears. He lied to me all along, and now everyone I love is gone. I want to ask him questions, but I’m not ready to hear his answers. I knew what would happen when I came here, but I thought I would have time to say good-bye—not that one word can make this easier. All I can think about is Mom’s face when Gretchen and Law tell her I’m gone. It’s not fair to her. She’ll worry forever, and there’s nothing I can do.
A fresh round of sobs escapes, and Jackson dips his head, his face pain-stricken. He reaches for my hand, but stops mid-motion at the look I give him. I don’t want him to touch me. Maybe I should be stronger, or at least put forth the illusion of strength, but I can’t. The worry is overwhelming. I have no clue what world I left them in or what horrors wait for them because they helped me. I had them risk everything, and then I vanished, leaving them to pick up the pieces.
I know Jackson can sense my thoughts, but he doesn’t say anything, instead just lets me cry as long as I need in silence, never leaving. After what feels like an hour of crying, I ease up in the bed, scanning the room for the first time. It’s different than what I imagined. The walls and ceiling are wooden but rough, as though someone built the room without the right tools. Two windows on the outside wall allow light to shine through, and though the room could hold ten beds, mine is the only one in the room, made of a tan fabric and held up by nothing more than wooden posts. On the opposite side of the room from the windows is a curtained doorway, the same tan fabric as the bed. What lies beyond the curtain I can only imagine, but so far I’ve yet to see anyone pass by my doorway or hear any sounds outside it.
A million thoughts flutter through my mind, and I’m not sure where to begin.
“I know it’s a lot to take,” Jackson says, “but we’ll figure it out…together if you’ll let me.”
“Tell me what happened to them,” I say, refusing to meet his gaze.
He adjusts beside me, buying time. “I shouldn’t have taken you before you could say good-bye. And I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know what else to do. You were…” He looks away, drawing a long breath. “Dying. I scooped you up and raced to the nearest tree, teleporting us here, before I had time to think through the decision.”
I nod. “I just wish…” Flashes of memories hit in my mind, each one slicing through my chest. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Jackson leans in close, lowering his voice. “This isn’t forever, Ari. You’ll see them again. I promise you that as long as they’re alive, I’ll make sure you see them again.”
“So does that mean they’re all fine?”
He shrugs, looking uncomfortable again. “I believe so. I heard from Law yesterday.”
“Wait.” I jerk up in bed, causing a sharp pain to shoot from my head down my neck. I grimace at the pain but push it away, too eager to hear more. “Did you say you heard from Law? Does that mean we can talk to them?”
Jackson smiles widely. “Of course.”
Tears brim my eyes again, this time a mixture of happiness and relief. I’ll talk to my parents again. I can tell them I’m okay. I can make sure they’re okay. “But if we can communicate with them, then why did you take so long to message me? I thought… Dad told me who you really are. He told me you were sent to spy on me. He said it was all a job to you,” I say, hurt replacing my anger.
Jackson turns around so he faces me, his expression serious. “I was sent to get information, and I am Zeus’s grandson, but all of that changes nothing between us. I know I’ve done a lot to give you doubts, so I understand if—”
The wrinkled woman from earlier returns and hmphs at our closeness. “You ought to rest. Let her rest, young one,” she says to Jackson.
“And this would be Emmy,” Jackson says to me. “She’ll take care of you while you’re here.” He pulls himself away, saying he has a meeting to attend and will return after.
“What sort of meeting?” I ask, causing Emmy to stiffen.
“Not your business, child. He’s—”
Jackson silences her with one look. “Nothing. Just business.”
I stare at him, hoping he can sense the questions and concerns running through my mind, but he doesn’t respond.
He leaves, and I suddenly realize that apart from Jackson, I’m alone here. Alone with a boy that even now refuses to be straight with me. I watch Emmy as she checks my pulse and heart rate. She’s systematic about it, no feeling, no care, nothing like the medics at home. Home. I push the thought from my mind as soon as it appears. Crying in front of Jackson is one thing, but I refuse to melt down around Emmy.
She takes a warm sponge from a tin basin beside the bed, easing it over my face and arms and legs.
“I can do that,” I say.
“Best not to overdo.”
“Thank you.”
She stops mid-motion, weighing my words. I’m sure she’s about to go off on me, but instead she smiles. “You are one of us now. He chose you long ago.”
“Long ago? But we just—”
“No. Nothing by chance.”
I try to comprehend what she means, but it’s crazy. He couldn’t… No. “Jackson didn’t plan this; he wouldn’t.” The room grows hotter by the second. She can’t mean… No, no, no.
Fear crosses her face and she leans closer, so close her face is almost touching mine. “Not young one. Old one.”
Old one? Who is she…? My mouth falls open, realization clearing my mind.
Zeus.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Fi
rst, thank you God for guiding me daily and challenging me to be better, always better.
It takes a small army to produce a book, and mine has been nothing short of amazing. Thank you to Heather Howland for discovering me from your endless slush pile. You breathed life into this book and designed the cover of my dreams. I will forever be grateful. Thank you to Liz Pelletier, my fierce editor, for loving the book I wrote, the way I wrote it, and calling it “magic.” I feel so blessed to have you. And I feel sure no one would know that Gravity exists without the help of my ninja publicist, Heather Riccio. You have been my rock.
Thank you to my husband, Jason, for making sure all the scenes involving weapons were accurate and for being so supportive through all of this. It’s easy to write about true love when I experience it daily with you. And many, many thanks to my daughters for keeping me young and laughing. You are my light.
Much love and thanks to my family, most notably my mother, sister, and niece who have been my biggest fans. Also, thank you to my mother-in-law for watching my daughter so I could write even before anyone considered me a writer.
A continuous and unending thanks to Laura Hughes, my critique partner, who has read Gravity more times than anyone else. This book would not exist without you. Also thank you to early and beta readers—the Oobies critique group, Shelley, Jenn, and Amanda for helping me add depth to the story.
Thank you to Chloe Jacobs, Lisa Burstein, Rachel Harris, and Tara Fuller for keeping me sane and for being such wonderful friends. Thank you a million times over. This experience would not be nearly as fulfilling without you.
To Erica Justice, Heather Grimmett, and Tonya Johnson. I feel so blessed to call you my friends. Thank you for not laughing when I said I’d written a book and for reading it even before I knew what I was doing.
Thank you to the countless bloggers and readers out there who have shown such tremendous enthusiasm for this series. I could not be more grateful. And finally, many thanks to you for reading this book. I hope it is everything you wanted it to be and more.
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Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS