by Claire Luana
“It’s not terrible,” Zoe says. Traitor. She’d agree with anything Brandon says. “Just say you were watching movie marathons or something. It explains why the cabin has been used, and why both of you guys have been missing school and practice.”
“No,” Ryan and I say in unison, and we exchange a look, surprised at our sudden alliance.
“I’ll think of something,” Ryan mutters.
“We should get going,” Zoe says, nodding towards her car.
And suddenly the weirdest morning of my life is ending. I can’t account for the hesitation I have in leaving the cabin. In going back to normal life. But it’s not normal, is it? Everything has changed. I have a new purpose. And new allies.
“Ryan,” I call, pausing before I get into the car. The memory of last night’s dream has flashed in my mind. My sister floating, dead, the soft strands of her hair drifting in gentle waves.
He looks my way.
“Stay away from the water.”
Chapter 18
It’s Friday night.
Why didn’t I realize that it’s Friday night? Suddenly, a coffee shop research sesh feels a lot more like a double date.
I stand in my closet amid a pile of clothes. I’ve tried on and discarded nearly everything I own, but I’ve settled on jeans, my Chucks, and my “Otter Space” TeeTurtle shirt. Yes, it features adorable otters in space. I’m unsatisfied with the ensemble, but it was the least objectionable of my options. I thread my hair into a loose braid and contemplate putting on makeup. But Ryan has seen me totally casual, so makeup would look more than a little conspicuous.
I throw myself onto my bed, screaming into my pillow.
Part of me wishes Dad had said no to me going out tonight, on account of me being sick. But Dad, god love him, can’t say no. Not when I ask with the big eyes.
I roll over and take a breath, blowing it out slowly. The way my stomach is twisting, I’m starting to think I’ve actually made myself sick.
I grab my phone and stare at the screen, at the two new contacts listed there. Ryan Kearney. Brandon Cook. Zoe got their numbers at school and texted them to me. My finger itches to text Ryan, but I don’t know what I’d say. Sorry about the kidnapping? Sorry for making you a hit-and-run suspect? Besides, that would be weird. I’m going to see him in less than an hour.
I keep trying to take stock of what’s happened in the last two days, and it keeps slipping from my mental fingers. It feels too big to wrap my brain around. After two millennia, I finally know how my sisters were cursed. I can’t decide if it’s better or worse that it was all a big misunderstanding. That the curse was an accident, rather than something Zeus did purposely to punish us. Worse. I think it’s worse. Though now we do have a sliver of a chance to get him to unravel it.
Zeus was not known for his leniency or his magnanimity. I can’t imagine two thousand years have softened him much. He terrified me when I was Merope—though I would have denied it to the grave. But now? I’m a sixteen-year-old mortal from Oregon. The thought of standing before him and asking him for anything…it makes me want to curl under the covers.
But he was always fond of Orion. Orion was a loyal ally to him. Maybe if Ryan does the asking, I can just hang back. Cower in the corner of his throne room or whatever.
I pull my pillow over my face to hide my mortification. I feel so completely obvious. I can’t even think about Ryan without blushing. God damn it. I can just imagine what I’d tell our kids. Well, honey, somewhere between dragging your father’s unconscious body out of a truck and Tasing him, I just knew… I scream into my pillow again. What’s wrong with me? Is this some sort of messed-up reverse Stockholm Syndrome?
I try to think objectively—as if I had just met Ryan at school or through track or something. He checks a lot of boxes. Dangerously cute? Check. Not a douchebag? Check. Sporty? Check. Intelligent? Yeah, seems like it. Something about him that makes my skin feel like it’s on fire when I’m near him? Check, check. But I know that it’s more than that. It’s the relief I feel to have finally found someone who understands what I’ve been through. All of it. The strange double vision of past lives, the twisted memories of girls’ deaths. I file through my visions, testing them against his insistence that he never killed on purpose. That it was always an accident. It holds up. It’s like my visions have been shifted through a different lens, and suddenly I see the ways that I misinterpreted…that I assumed his ill intent when I didn’t know all the facts. How I spent all these years hating and demonizing him…when he was just as broken and hurting as me. I think maybe I owe him a big fat apology.
“Mer!” my dad calls up the stairs. “Zoe’s here!”
I pop up, feeling like a bottle rocket about to blow. I grab the book I stole from Ryan and walk down the stairs, doing my best to school my features into nonchalance. I told Dad that Zoe and I are going to meet some other kids to work on a group project. It’s half true, anyway.
“You’re sure you’re feeling up to this?” Dad asks, brushing back my hair as I pass.
I smile weakly. “I’m feeling a lot better. And if I don’t go, I’ll get assigned all the crappy work.”
Dad snorts in sympathy. “Group projects are the worst. Home by nine?”
“Nine?” I ask in dismay.
“You need your rest to kick whatever bug you’re fighting. Non-negotiable.”
“Okay,” I agree.
In the car, Zoe looks like she just won the lottery.
I grin despite myself. “Tone down the glowing, okay?”
“I can’t help it!” she squeals. “Brandon talked to me three times at school today! That’s three times the amount he talked to me last month.”
“I’m glad my curse has been good for your dating life,” I say wryly, drumming my fingers nervously on the cover of the book on my lap.
“Oh, it so has.” She’s dead serious.
“I guess it’s my best friend duty to tell you that Brandon said you were cute.”
I think you can hear her squeal in the next county.
We pull into the parking lot at Backporch Coffee Roasters, one of our favorite coffee shops. The drive was far too short for my taste. I planned to center myself, to find my zen, but I feel as jittery as a grasshopper. No coffee for me.
Ryan and Brandon are visible through the front window, sitting there at a table. Zoe and I both take a deep breath.
Ryan’s old truck hulks over Brandon’s SUV in the parking lot. I glance back on the way in, scoping out the front for any sign of the accident. There’s nothing except a bit of warping where they must have pounded the dent out of the fender. You wouldn’t even see it unless you knew to look. A surge of relief wells in me. There’s nothing linking Ryan—and me—to the hit-and-run.
The bell tinkles as we enter the shop. We exchange a round of “heys” as Zoe and I slide into chairs opposite the guys.
Brandon wears his uniform from baseball practice, his curls wild. Ryan is freshly showered and wearing a clean flannel shirt in shades of blue. His hair is slicked back in the spiked, gravity-defying style I saw the first day I kidnapped him, a look that manages to come off as effortless, though I’m sure it takes some doing.
“You guys need coffee?” Brandon asks.
I shake my head.
“I’m gonna grab a latte,” Zoe says, starting to stand.
“I’ll get it,” Brandon says, beating her to his feet. “My treat.”
The excitement radiates from Zoe as they go up to order. It leaves Ryan and me, facing off against each other.
I take off my fleece, suddenly feeling like it’s about a thousand degrees in here.
“Cool shirt,” Ryan says, and I warm to fire-of-a-thousand-suns hot at the compliment. Good wardrobe choice confirmed.
I look down at my space otters. “Thanks.”
Silence.
“Everything okay with your grandma?” I ask softly, searching for the best way to wade into the waters of our new uneasy alliance. I spin the bracelet
on my wrist, glad I have it back.
Ryan nods. “She was worried sick. But…yeah. I told her I needed some time to myself, so I went camping.”
“That happen often?”
“No. I don’t think she believed me. But I think she’s worried the truth will be worse.”
“Ignorance is bliss.”
There’s awkward silence as Ryan nods again. “Um, here you go.” I slide the book across the table.
He spins it around. “Where’d you get this?”
I lick my lips. “When I went to drop off your grandma’s medication, I may have…done a little investigating.”
His blue eyes widen. “You went in my house? In my room?”
Brandon and Zoe return just in time to hear that and take in the tension between us.
“I’m really sorry. I was still trying to get a read on you. When you had your seizure, I thought you had said my name, but I couldn’t be sure. I just wanted to see if there were any clues about who you were.”
“And what’d you figure out?” Ryan asks. His tone is gentler but still carries a thread of hostility. He’s disconcerted that I was in his space. I get it.
Brandon chimes in, grabbing Ryan’s shoulders playfully and giving him a little shake. “That my man needs to do laundry more often, I bet.”
“I barely had a minute. I just saw the book, grabbed it, and ran,” I say, offering a smile. “I didn’t even have time to go through your underwear drawer.”
The corner of Ryan’s mouth quirks up at that.
“Listen,” Zoe says. “Let’s forget everything that happened before, okay? We know now that we’re all on the same side. That’s the most important thing, right?”
“Agreed,” I say, my eyes searching Ryan’s face.
“Okay,” Ryan says.
Brandon retrieves a sleek iBook out of his backpack and pops it open. “Is it time to nerd out?”
“Music to my ears,” Zoe says, pulling her laptop out too.
I follow suit.
“I’ve just got my phone,” Ryan says, and I remember the ancient yellowed machine in his room. I feel bad suddenly, like we’re all flaunting our easy middle-class status like a bunch of assholes.
“Where do we start?” Brandon asks.
“I guess we look for any signs of Zeus being alive. Or any of the other gods.” I jab the power button on my HP. “Miracles, strange occurrences around his temples…” I trail off. How does a person find a god?
“He might still have followers,” Ryan adds. “Like a religion or cult. If we find them, they might be able to help us find him.”
“Okay, so just deep dive into the world of the internet crazies,” Brandon says.
“Pretty much!” Zoe adds.
The hours tick by in a blink. As the sky darkens outside, it grows more comfortable around our table. We all find some seriously weird shit, some of which makes us laugh, some of which makes us wrinkle our noses. Conspiracy theories, strange sightings—there’s plenty of craziness to be found, but it feels impossible to tell fact from fiction. None of it gets us closer to finding Zeus or the scythe.
Finally, I slam my laptop shut, rubbing my face. I need to be home in fifteen minutes.
Ryan has long since put his phone away and is now idly spinning the Greek history book on the table before him. Frustration comes off him in waves.
I put my hand out and stop the book from spinning. Our fingers touch, and I feel a spark of connection. “We’ll find him,” I say, meeting his eyes. I try not to think about the fact that I’ve already had another vision. We don’t have a lot of time.
He pulls his hand back, looking out the window. “I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”
“It’s only day one,” Brandon offers.
“But we have no idea where to look,” Ryan counters.
I look at the book, at the spot where Ryan’s and my fingers met. The book is turned over. The back cover has the picture of the author, a smiling woman in large glasses posed before a bookshelf of tomes. I see her name, and my eyes widen.
I pull the book towards me, skimming her bio eagerly. A jolt of excitement shoots through me.
My head snaps up. “I have an idea.”
But they aren’t paying attention. They’re looking out the window at the Deschutes County Sheriff’s vehicle that just pulled up. And the man who’s getting out of it.
“Isn’t that…?” Zoe trails off.
“Deputy Romano,” I confirm. The name comes out like a curse.
Chapter 19
I’m frozen to my seat as the cheerful bell tinkles and Deputy Romano pushes in.
“It could be a coincidence,” Zoe hisses, but he’s approaching our table. We’ll have no such luck.
“Ryan Kearney?” The deputy looks up from his little pad of paper. He must have a photo or something, because his eyes are pinned on Ryan. So much so that he doesn’t even look at me. I pray to all that is holy and a few things that aren’t so holy that he doesn’t notice me. How would I be able to explain that Ryan and I know each other? That I was on scene at the hit-and-run and Ryan disappeared for a few days…long enough to make his grandmother report him missing…
“Yes, sir,” Ryan replies. His voice is strong, without a quaver. Guy must have balls of steel. My face heats as I realize that I have no right to be thinking anything about Ryan’s balls.
“You mind coming with me to the station? I have a few questions to ask you about the past few days.”
“Am I under arrest, sir?” Ryan asks.
“No.” Deputy Romano frowns at him. “But you gave your grandmother enough of a scare that she filed a missing person’s report. Just need to tie up a few loose ends.”
I breathe out a shaky sigh as Zoe’s hand finds mine under the table, her fingers twining into mine in a death grip.
Ryan’s blue eyes are fixed on the deputy. “If it’s all the same, sir, if I’m not under arrest, I’d rather not go down to the station. I’ll answer your questions here.”
My eyes widen, meeting Brandon’s across the table. I revise my assessment about Ryan’s balls of steel. The guy has balls of titanium.
Deputy Romano is silent for a moment, his jaw working. “Fine. Outside.” He nods towards the door. He steps back, allowing Ryan to gather his things and stand. He nods at us, his eyes sliding over me. Then he freezes.
Shit.
“Ms. Carmichael,” the deputy says, pointing at me, then at Ryan with the end of his pen, his gaze moving back and forth between us.
Ryan has stopped dead in his tracks.
“You two know each other?” he asks.
Zoe’s fingers are now cutting off my circulation, but I welcome it. The pain anchors me to the present. Otherwise, I think I might faint.
“Yes,” I manage. The word is strangled. I’m not even lying and yet I sound guilty as hell.
“Hmm,” he says, his brown eyes flicking to Brandon, then Zoe, then back to me. He nods, and I can tell I haven’t heard the end of this.
Ryan and Deputy Romano stand outside in the parking lot alongside his sheriff’s vehicle, talking. Ryan has his arms crossed before him, Deputy Romano’s hand is hooked on his belt. Right above his gun.
“Anyone read lips?” Zoe asks weakly.
I shake my head. “I’d give my left kidney to be able to.”
“It’ll be fine,” Brandon says. I’m beginning to take his measure. Sunny optimism is his jam. He lowers his voice. “We fixed up the truck.”
“Did anyone else see you do it?” I ask.
Brandon shakes his head. “We did it in my dad’s shop. No one’s the wiser.”
“What do you think he’ll say?” I chew on my lip. Deputy Romano’s investigation has thrown a wrench in the whole business. I feel bad for my sister’s family, I do. They do deserve to know what happened to their daughter. But I also deserve a curse-free existence. As do the rest of my sisters. Breaking the curse has to be the priority here.
“He’s good under pressure,�
�� Brandon says. “He’ll think of something.”
My phone buzzes and I jump. It’s a text from my mom. A GIF of a clock. I knew I shouldn’t have shown her how to use that feature.
“I need to get home.” I close my laptop, throwing it in my bag.
“Let’s wait,” Zoe says. “What if Deputy Romano stops you on your way out? We need to get our stories straight with Ryan.”
I nod.
Headlights flood the coffee shop, and I blink, squinting into the bright. It’s Ryan’s truck. The deputy must be done talking to him.
“Mer, he’s coming back in,” Zoe says. I can see she’s paralyzed with fear. But by some miracle, I spring into action. I grab my phone and haul ass for the bathroom, locking the door as the bell chimes again.
“What did you tell him?” I text Ryan furiously. I’m sure the police can search our phones if they really want, but right now all I care about is knowing what the hell to tell Deputy Romano.
Three little dots undulate as I pace the confines of the bathroom.
“Truth,” Ryan’s text pops up.
I goggle at the phone, collapsing against the tiled wall. “?!?” I text back.
Those infernal dots blink again…
“Today 1st day we met—B+Z set up. Camping B4, no reception.”
That fast-thinking mofo. I blow out a breath, shoving my phone in my pocket. I flush the toilet and run my hands under the water. I can do this.
Deputy Romano is sitting next to Zoe, chatting with Brandon. Brandon laughs at something he’s just said, as if they’re long-lost besties. Zoe’s quieter, her smile weak. I slide into the seat next to Brandon.
“I was just telling Brandon I played baseball for Summit back in the day.” Deputy Romano smiles. “Pitcher.”
“Cool,” I manage.
“Ryan was a pitcher until last year,” Brandon offers. I know he’s trying to endear Ryan to the deputy, but I wish he hadn’t brought him up. I don’t want Ryan under Deputy Romano’s scrutiny any more than necessary. “Kid has a cannon. I swore he was going to play college ball, maybe go all the way.”
“He doesn’t play anymore?” Deputy Romano asks.