An arrow thunking into the target behind me snapped me out of my reverie. I shook my head and moved on. I wasn’t here to ogle Logan. I had a Valkyrie to spy on.
I hurried on and slipped out the same side door that Morgan had. The door led out to a small courtyard that connected the gym to the indoor swimming pool that was also part of the academy’s massive stone sports complex.
In addition to a variety of hyacinths and lotus trees, the courtyard featured a round fountain with marble nymphs that sprayed water up into the air in a continuous stream. Like all the other academy statues, the nymphs seemed a little too lifelike to me, as though they were a breath away from leaping out of the water and stabbing whoever was closest with their sharp pointed tridents. Through the long tendrils of their seaweedlike hair, their sly, narrowed eyes all seemed to turn in my direction, watching me. Creepy. Especially since they were all naked. Yucko.
I scanned the courtyard, but I didn’t see Morgan anywhere. Had she gone over into the pool area for some reason?
A soft giggle caught my attention, and I walked forward. A low voice murmured something, and the giggle came again, a little louder and a little flirtier this time. I slipped into the row of trees that lined one wall of the courtyard and followed the sound over to the far side, where a tall, twisting lotus spread its wide branches over the entire area. I drew in a breath and peeked around the tree.
Morgan McDougall and Samson Sorensen stood about twenty feet away from me, up against the back wall of the courtyard, half-hidden by a low bush.
And they were totally making out.
My mouth dropped open. I knew that Jasmine had suspected that something was going on between her best friend and her boyfriend, but it was something else to see it for myself. Especially when they were so obviously, um, enjoying themselves. If Morgan’s tongue went any deeper into Samson’s mouth, it would come out the back of his head. And Samson’s hands were all over Morgan, squeezing and stroking everything he could touch—and she let him touch everything. Add to that the fact that Samson was just wearing a pair of swimming briefs and flip-flops and you had the makings of a porno. Mythos Coeds Gone Wild.
Finally, after a minute, the two of them broke apart, both breathing hard.
“Come on, baby,” Morgan cooed. “Let’s go to our usual spot in the locker room. I’m dying to put my hands all over that hard body of yours.”
I snorted. It looked to me like she’d been doing that already, given the fact that she was plastered to him tighter than his wet Speedo was.
Samson gave her a grin but shook his head. “Sorry. Coach Lir is in there right now tearing into Kenzie Tanaka because his time dropped two seconds in the relay. You’ll just have to wait until later tonight at the bonfire. Besides, it’s not a good thing for us to be seen together right now, remember? I mean, Jasmine’s only been dead a few days. How would it look?”
Morgan raked her nails down his bare chest, making green sparks of magic flicker up into what little air there was between them. “I don’t care how it looks. I’m tired of sneaking around. You should have just broken up with her when she was alive.”
My eyes widened, and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Had the two of them actually done it? Had they murdered Jasmine so they could be together? That seemed kind of extreme to me, even here at Mythos Academy where very little made sense.
“Yeah, well, whoever killed her did us both a favor,” Samson said. “You know that she was never going to let me go. She told you that herself. She thought we were going to get married and live happily ever after, when she wouldn’t even sleep with me.”
Morgan raked her nails down Samson’s chest again. More green sparks fluttered in the air and her nails left welts behind on his skin, but Samson didn’t seem to care.
“Jasmine also told me that she thought you were cheating on her with someone else.” Morgan snickered. “She just never suspected that it was me.”
Wrong, I thought. Jasmine had known that Morgan was screwing her boyfriend. Jasmine must just not have been able to do anything about it before she’d been murdered in the library.
“So I’ll see you tonight at the bonfire?” Morgan cooed, and wrapped her arms around Samson’s neck once more.
“Absolutely. And after, too. We’ll sneak away and have our own private party.”
Samson gave her another sly grin. He dipped his head, and the two of them started kissing again—
A hand clamped over my shoulder, fingers digging into my skin through the fabric of my T-shirt. Somehow, I bit back a surprised yelp and turned around to find Talia Pizarro glaring at me.
“What are you doing out here?” Talia demanded. “We’re supposed to be sparring, remember?”
“I was taking a break for a second,” I lied.
I walked toward her, forcing her to move back several steps. I didn’t want Morgan and Samson to know that I’d been spying on them.
I made a show of gathering my brown hair up and waving my hand in front of my face, like I was trying to cool off. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s like a hundred degrees in the gym.”
My explanation seemed to satisfy her, although Talia still gave me a dirty look for making her stalk all the way out here after me.
I fiddled with my hair some more, using that as an excuse to look back over my shoulder, but Morgan and Samson had disappeared from their love nest. Maybe they’d gone on to the locker room for their quickie after all. Still, I wasn’t too disappointed. I knew where they’d be tonight. And I was going to crash the party.
Because there was definitely something going on between the two of them—and I was willing to bet that it had a lot to do with Jasmine’s death.
“Come on, Gwen,” Talia snapped again. “I want to get a couple more rounds of sparring in before class ends.”
Satisfied for now, I let the Amazon drag me back into the gym.
Chapter 12
A bonfire was scheduled for that evening. Apparently, it was an academy tradition and the event was always held the night before the homecoming dance. The dance, of course, would be staged in the dining hall. Even at Mythos, the Powers That Were couldn’t think of anywhere better to have the dance than the cafeteria. Some things stayed the same, no matter which school you went to.
Normally, I wouldn’t have gone to the bonfire, as I hadn’t been to any of the other after-school social events. It wasn’t like I had any friends who were just begging me to go. Or like I was popular enough for people to care whether or not I put in an appearance at the Big Event. And it certainly wasn’t like I was dating anyone and wanted to snuggle with him under a blanket by the fire.
But Morgan and Samson had made plans to meet at the bonfire, and I wanted to see what they were up to. Hopefully, it would be something more interesting than dry-humping each other.
Maybe it was stupid, but I just couldn’t shake off this feeling that the two of them had something to do with Jasmine’s murder. Maybe they hadn’t killed Jasmine, but there was something that just seemed wrong about this whole thing. Besides, it wasn’t like I had any other Big Plans for the night, besides sitting in my room, eating junk food, and reading comic books.
The bonfire was being held in the outdoor amphitheater on one of the lower quads just down the hill from the Library of Antiquities. I took a shower, threw on some clean jeans, a T-shirt, and a purple hoodie, and walked over there. It was after seven now and already dark on this October night. The air was chilly, but not unpleasantly so, and the stars twinkled like the sequins on a prom queen’s dress in the black velvety fabric of the sky.
A series of long, flat, shallow stone steps that doubled as seats made up the top of the amphitheater. The steps formed a semicircle as they gradually spiraled down to the raised dais that served as the stage. Unlike the stones of the other campus buildings, all the stones here were bone white and flecked with shimmers of opalescent color—sky blue, pearl pink, soft lilac. Four columns towered over the stage area, each one topped by a chi
mera crouching on a round globe, clutching the sphere with its curved claws and glaring out at where the crowd would sit.
By the time I arrived, the stage had been removed and a small fire had already been built in a ring of white stones in the very bottom of the amphitheater. I’d expected the other kids to be laughing, talking, and halfway to drunk by now, but for once, everyone was quiet, somber even. Instead of forming their usual cliques and gossiping, the students stood single file in a line that snaked up the amphitheater steps. Since I wasn’t sure what was going on, I hung back, staying away from the line and well out of the flickering firelight.
One by one, the students walked by a tall man wearing a royal blue cloak shot through with silver thread and a crown of silver leaves resting on top of his head. He was backlit by the fire, and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was Nickamedes, of all people. What was he doing? And why was he wearing that ridiculous cloak and crown? Was he dressed up for a night of playing Dungeons & Dragons or something?
Apparently, the other students didn’t think the librarian’s appearance was strange at all. No mocking whispers filled the air, no sly giggles, nothing. Everyone was as quiet as if they were at a funeral. As the kids passed Nickamedes, they reached into the large silver bowl that he was holding and pulled out a handful of whatever was inside. I watched the first girl in line as she walked over to the ring of stones. She stood there in front of the flames a moment, then tossed a fistful of silver powder into the heart of the fire.
WHOOSH!
Whatever the powder was, it made the fire blaze brighter and burn hotter, the orange flames taking on a faint silver tinge. One by one, the kids in line repeated the process, along with Metis, Coach Ajax, and some of the other professors. By the time the last student had finished, the flames arced as high as the top tier of the amphitheater and the heat from them shimmered like ghosts twisting in the air. More than the heat, there was a—a charge in the air. The same sort of old, watchful, knowing force that I always felt when Grandma Frost had one of her visions. I shivered and wrapped my arms against myself. I might not think all the magic mumbo jumbo that the profs spouted was true, but here, tonight, I could almost believe that gods and monsters were real—and that they were all watching us.
“We dedicate this fire to those who have fought before,” Nickamedes said. “The light of their sacrifice will always banish the dark and bring order to the Chaos. We live because of them, and they live on in us.”
“And they live on in us,” everyone murmured, their words rippling out into the darkness.
For a moment the fire burned brighter and higher still, the flames more silver than gold. Then, I blinked, and the illusion was gone. There was only a bonfire crackling merrily in the ring of stone, its snaps of wood and sweet smoke filling the air—nothing more.
Just like that, the ritual was over and everyone relaxed. Hardly a minute had passed before the students drifted off into their usual cliques. It seemed like I’d barely blinked again before the scene shifted into what it should have been all along.
Kids stood around the fire, laughing, talking, and giggling, while others sat in lawn chairs or huddled together under blankets on the stone steps. I hadn’t noticed them before, but several tables full of the academy’s usual fancy food and drinks had been set up a few feet away from the bonfire. Some kids had already pulled out long metal rods that they were using to roast puffy gourmet marshmallows for s’mores.
The sight helped me shake off the strange feeling that had gripped me earlier and remember why I was here in the first place. Mmm. S’mores. One of my favorite treats. I’d have to make myself some to take back to my room—after I figured out what Morgan and Samson were up to.
Metis, Coach Ajax, and a few other profs started patrolling the edges of the amphitheater, making sure nobody did something stupid. Like, you know, grab a blazing stick out of the bonfire and set someone’s hair on fire with it.
The profs were also here to keep an eye on the alcohol. Despite the supposedly strict no-booze-on-campus rule, several kids took sips from small flasks when they thought no one was looking. Some were even more brazen about it, having poured beer, wine coolers, or whatever into plastic cups. A few guys, Romans mostly, even popped open cans and let beer foam and spew all over them before chugging down the liquor and crushing the empty metal against their foreheads. But as long as no fights broke out, Metis and the other professors seemed content to let the students have their fun—at least for tonight.
I skirted around the fringes of the bonfire, keeping to the shadows and looking for Morgan or Samson. I didn’t spot them right away, but I did see someone else I knew—Carson Callahan. He was playing some kind of drum, a bodhran I think it was called, in an impromptu band that had parked themselves next to one of the refreshment tables. There was a guy with a guitar, a girl with a violin, and another guy with a pair of cymbals. The four of them were just jamming, playing fast, rocking Celtic music. They actually sounded pretty good together. I waved to Carson, but of course he didn’t see me, and I walked on by.
But I wasn’t the only person who had her eye on Carson. Across the flickering bonfire, I saw Daphne Cruz staring in his direction, completely focused on the band geek.
And Morgan McDougall was standing right next to her. Jackpot.
I kept walking around the bonfire, trying to look like I was going somewhere instead of spying on one of the most popular girls in school. Morgan was among the kids who were drinking, a plastic cup of beer in her right hand. Daphne was drinking, too, although her beverage of choice looked like a wine cooler.
I was so busy staring at Morgan and Daphne that I didn’t watch where I was going and I once again slammed into someone familiar.
Logan Quinn.
The Spartan had been carrying a soda in his hand, and, thanks to me, it splashed all over the front of his long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, completely soaking him. Uh-oh. Logan rocked back on his heels and opened his mouth, probably ready to curse me for ramming into him. But then he saw it was me, and the anger on his face melted into a sly, knowing smile.
“Well, well, Gypsy girl,” he drawled. “We really have to stop meeting like this.”
“I’ll say,” I muttered. “Sorry I ran into you. Again.”
I was glad it was dark, so he couldn’t see the red-hot embarrassment that stained my cheeks. Usually, I wasn’t this clumsy and actually, you know, paid attention to where I was walking. Then, there was the fact that I’d never so much as spoken to Logan before this week and now I kept running into him over and over again—literally. The Spartan probably thought that I was stalking him or something. That thought made my cheeks burn that much hotter.
I started to step around him, but Logan blocked my path. I went the other way, and he blocked me again.
“What?” I snapped, getting more embarrassed by the second. Especially since Logan’s wet T-shirt clung to his stomach, giving me a glimpse of his washboard abs—abs that I just couldn’t seem to look away from. “Do you want something?”
“Just the pleasure of your company, Gypsy girl.”
Logan smiled at me then, a small, sexy grin that curved his lips and made his eyes flare with a brilliant blue light. My brain must have shut down or something, because I was momentarily breathless, even as my heart pounded in my chest. Thump-thump-thump. If it got any louder, Logan would be sure to hear it, and then I’d be even more embarrassed.
After a few seconds of just staring at him, my brain kick-started once more, and I reminded myself who I was talking to. Logan freaking Quinn, the man-whore of Mythos Academy. He was probably only talking to me because I’d turned him down the other day and he wanted another shot at me. He probably thought I was so lonely, friendless, and desperate that I’d be an easy mark. Another girl whose mattress he could sign and then never speak to again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Morgan say something to Daphne, then slip off into the crowd. Morgan had to be on her way to hook up with Samson
, and Logan wasn’t going to stop me from seeing what they were up to.
“Sorry,” I said. “My company is going somewhere else.”
Logan opened his mouth to say something, but this time I shoved past him and plunged into the darkness.
Morgan’s tight light blue sweater and white skinny jeans stood out against the shadowy grass, making her easy to follow. Well, that and the fact that the Valkyrie was already drunk. She wobbled from side to side, occasionally stopping to take another drink from her plastic cup, as she left the amphitheater and slowly climbed the hill toward the library.
The Library of Antiquities didn’t seem to me like the most romantic spot for a lovers’ rendezvous, but I followed along behind Morgan, drifting from one group of kids to another, from one tree to another, so that she wouldn’t see me. I shouldn’t have bothered. The Valkyrie never looked behind her, not even once. So much for being discreet.
I wondered if this was how Jasmine had found out that her best friend was sleeping with her boyfriend. Just by following Morgan when she slipped off one night. I didn’t think that Morgan McDougall was nearly as smart as she thought she was.
Morgan crested the hill, and I stopped and pretended to tie my sneaker to give her time to get across the upper quad. Then, I walked up the hill after her.
I reached the top and spotted Morgan weaving her way up the wide library steps. The library was closed because of the bonfire, and the Valkyrie headed to the left, staying on the open-air patio that wrapped all the way around the building. Wrought-iron tables and chairs perched on the patio, so students could sit outside and study when the weather was warm and sunny.
I didn’t hurry up the steps after her but instead stayed on the quad, moving from tree to tree and going in the same direction that the Valkyrie did so I could keep her in sight.
Morgan had just rounded a corner when a hand reached out and dragged her into the shadows. I froze behind a tree, wondering if the person who had murdered Jasmine was lurking around the library after all, if he hadn’t just taken the Bowl of Tears and left campus like everyone else thought.
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