Chapter 20
I hit the Spartan’s chest and bounced off, shrieking. And I kept right on back-back-backing up until my body was flat against one of the plywood-covered windows.
My hand dropped to my waist, pushing up the bottom of my hoodie and fumbling for the scabbard that was strapped there. After a second my fingers curled around Vic’s hilt. If the Spartan tried anything, anything at all, I’d pull the sword and defend myself with it—or at least try to.
Oliver held out his hands and stepped toward me. “Gwen, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want to talk to you.”
“Talk?” I snapped, keeping my back to the wall, one hand on Vic’s hilt as I edged away from him. “Talk about what? How you tried to mow me down with your SUV earlier this week? Or maybe you’d like to talk about how you took a shot at me with your bow and arrow in the Library of Antiquities?”
Guilt filled his face. “Look, I can explain all that.”
“Really? Like you can explain the avalanche you caused yesterday? The one that almost buried me on this damn mountain forever? Because I’d really, really like to hear you explain that one.”
Oliver frowned. “Avalanche? I didn’t cause the avalanche, Gwen.”
“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth. You’re a Reaper of Chaos, and you’re trying to kill me. That’s all I need to know.”
Oliver stared at me, worry etching deep lines into his forehead. “I’m not a Reaper! Why would you even think that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said in a sarcastic tone. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’ve tried to kill me
four times now
.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Oliver said. “Not with my car and not in the library. I was just trying to scare you a little.”
My eyebrows shot up in my face. “Scare me? Why?”
“Because of Kenzie,” Oliver growled in a frustrated tone. “And what you saw when you touched my notebook. Logan told us about your psychometry magic and how you can learn people’s secrets just by touching stuff that belongs to them. You said something about my crush, and I knew that you knew about Kenzie. I didn’t want you telling anyone, so I did all that other stuff to distract you. I wasn’t really trying to hurt you, Gwen. I swear.”
His mouth twisted a little. “Logan would kill me if I ever hurt you on purpose. Hell, he’d kill me now if he realized what I’ve done so far.”
Oliver looked and sounded sincere, but I didn’t know if I believed him or not. A few weeks ago, I’d thought Jasmine had been brutally murdered, but it had all just been an illusion the crazy Valkyrie had created. Who was to say Oliver wasn’t playing me the same way Jasmine had?
I tiptoed along the wall, creeping closer to the door, until I was forced to step around another wheelbarrow. I put it between me and the Spartan. Now, my back was to the door, and I kept my gaze fixed on Oliver, just in case he tried to rush after me. I still had my hand on Vic’s hilt, although I doubted I would pull the sword now. I could run faster if I wasn’t carrying him in my hand.
“I’m going to walk out that door and find Professor Metis,” I told Oliver. “You can explain it all to her.”
I took one step back toward the door, then another, then another. More frustration filled the Spartan’s face, and his hands curled into fists, but he didn’t make a move to follow me. Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he wasn’t a Reaper, but I couldn’t take a chance he wasn’t. Besides, he’d already copped to the fact that he’d come after me with his SUV and fired that arrow at my head. What kind of guy did stuff like that? Okay, okay, so maybe all the Mythos kids were a little twisted and violent that way, and maybe I was, too, since I’d just broken into the Spartan’s room on a hunch. But I certainly didn’t want to be trapped alone with him in the dark, with no one around to hear me scream.
Oliver opened his mouth, like he was going to say something. Then his eyes widened. “Look out—”
A crossbow bolt zipped by my ear and sank into the Spartan’s left shoulder. Blood sprayed through the air. Oliver screamed with pain and collapsed onto the concrete floor, clawing at the bolt. I whirled around.
A figure stood behind me. He must have slipped in through the door while I’d been talking to Oliver. Shadows cloaked his face, but I could clearly see the crossbow in his hand—the one that he’d just loaded with a fresh bolt. He gestured with the weapon, and I put my hands up and slowly backed around the wheelbarrow until I stood next to Oliver, who was writhing on the floor in pain.
“Stop,” the shadowy figure commanded.
I gasped. I recognized that voice, knew exactly who it belonged to. But why would he be here? And why would he shoot Oliver?
Preston stepped into a slice of sunlight and leveled his crossbow at me. “You’re not going anywhere, Gypsy.”
This time, my eyes were the ones that widened. “Preston?” I asked. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”
“I think it’s rather obvious. I’m here to kill you.” His handsome face twisted into a sneer. “Just like you killed my little sister. And my name’s not Preston. Well, not exactly. Preston’s my middle name, you see. Julian Preston Ashton.”
“Your sister?” I whispered, ice filling up my stomach. “Jasmine was your sister?”
Professor Metis had warned me that Jasmine’s family blamed me for her death, that they might come after me. Jasmine herself had told me that she and the rest of her family were Reapers. Now one of them had come to collect.
“Don’t you say her name!” Preston screamed. “Don’t you dare say her name, you Gypsy bitch!”
Preston leveled the crossbow at my face, and for a second I thought he was going to pull the trigger. But then he calmed down and lowered the weapon a few inches—aiming it at my heart instead. Not much of an improvement.
“Did you really think you could kill my sister—kill an Ashton, kill a Reaper—and get away with it?” Preston snarled.
I swallowed, but a hard lump of fear filled my throat. “Jasmine—Jasmine tried to kill me first. I just defended myself.”
I didn’t say anything about the fact that Logan was really the one who’d killed Jasmine, that the Spartan had been the one to put a spear through her chest. I didn’t want to put him in danger, too. Besides, Preston wouldn’t believe me anyway.
Preston laughed, and the harsh, mocking sound fluttered against the walls, somehow darkening the shadows all around us. “I don’t care what you did. You killed my sister, and now you’re going to pay for it.”
He cocked his head to one side, studying me. “All that’s left is to decide how much I want to make you suffer in the meantime.”
His words chilled me to the bone, because I knew he meant them. He was just as determined to kill me as Jasmine had been to sacrifice Morgan to Loki. I wondered if Preston would do the same thing to me. If he would stake me out down here in the sawdust and concrete, chant some magic mumbo jumbo, and dedicate my death to the evil god he served before he put a crossbow bolt through my skull.
The sick, horrid thought made me want to vomit, but I forced myself to just breathe—in and out, in and out, like my mom had taught me. I couldn’t give in to the panic. If I did that, I was already dead. Calm, I had to stay calm, and I had to
think
. That was the only way I was going to get out of this alive.
My eyes flicked down, but Oliver had quit screaming. Now, the Spartan lay quiet and still at my feet. A wide pool of blood had formed under his left shoulder, mixing with the sawdust on the floor. I didn’t know if the Spartan was dead or not, and I didn’t dare bend down to check. Not with Preston still aiming his crossbow at me.
“Don’t worry about him,” Preston sneered. “Like I told you before, archery’s not really my thing, but that’s a pretty nasty wound. If he’s not dead by the time I’m done with you, I’ll put another bolt through his skull and finish him off. Actually, this will work out even better than I’d planned. I’ll make it look like the two of you fought and killed each other. That way, no one will be chasing me after the fact.”
Think, Gwen, think!
Okay, so Oliver couldn’t help, since he was so badly injured, but I had to do something to try and save us. I had to keep Preston talking while I figured out some sort of plan.
“Why now?” I asked, wetting my lips. “Why did you decide to kill me now? Why wait all these weeks?”
Preston’s face tightened with anger. “Because after Jasmine’s death, after they found out that the Ashtons are Reapers, the members of the Pantheon started hunting for us, so they could throw us into one of their pathetic little prisons. I had to leave school in Athens, and my parents had to go into hiding. Besides, I couldn’t get to you at the academy. I’d visited Jasmine there before, and I couldn’t take a chance that someone would recognize me. Like your friend Daphne.”
All sorts of images from the past two days filled my mind. Preston always standing next to the lobby wall. Me never seeing him with anyone else, even though he always claimed he was meeting friends. The fact that he always disappeared whenever Daphne and Carson showed up. The Valkyrie telling me that she didn’t see his profile and picture with the rest of the student photos on the New York academy’s Web site.
Something whispered at my feet, and I spotted Oliver slowly, slowly sliding his hand down along the floor. Relief flooded my body, chasing away some of the cold dread. The Spartan wasn’t dead yet, even though his eyes were closed and he was acting like he was.
I focused my attention on Preston again, determined to keep the Reaper talking for as long as possible. Determined to keep him looking at me and not Oliver. I didn’t know what the Spartan was up to, but I was going to give him a chance to do it.
“So it was all a lie, then,” I said, rocking forward on my heels, so Preston wouldn’t notice the fact that Oliver was digging in his jacket pocket for something. “You flirting and chatting me up all those times, asking me to lunch. You’ve been trying to get me alone all weekend, just so you could kill me. And you’ve been staying down here, too, haven’t you? Here in the construction site, since all the rooms were rented out to Mythos students and staff for the weekend.”
Preston nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. I was going to kill you that first night, right outside the party, but then your little Spartan boyfriend came outside and got in the middle of things.”
I wrapped my arms around my chest, feeling numb and frozen inside. Every word Preston said only added to the ice running through my veins. I remembered how happy I’d been that Preston had been flirting with me that night, how eager I’d been to follow him around the side of the building so we could make out. Preston might have kissed me, but he would have followed it up by shoving a dagger through my heart. I’d been so pissed at Logan for butting in, but the Spartan had saved my life. If I got out of this alive, I was going to tell Logan as much, and that I was sorry for—for
everything
.
“And the avalanche?” I asked. “You texted me and asked me to meet you at the hotel, so what exactly—you could make sure I was going down the mountain at the right time?”
“Well, yeah.” Preston rolled his eyes. “I only had enough explosives for one try at that. I didn’t want to waste them.”
“And the Fenrir wolf?”
He shrugged. “I had it follow you around the slopes and keep an eye on you. I figured that if the avalanche didn’t get you, then the wolf would finish the job. But the stupid dog got hurt instead.”
Preston glanced to his left and let out a sharp whistle. A shadow I hadn’t noticed before detached itself from the wall and came over to him. The Fenrir wolf walked with a noticeable limp, although a bandage covered its leg where the tree branch had skewered it. Preston’s doing, I supposed. As weird as it was, I was glad to see that the wolf was okay. It wasn’t the creature’s fault Preston was a Reaper maniac who wanted to murder me.
“Useless dog,” Preston snarled.
The wolf lowered its head, but I saw its red eyes narrow the tiniest bit. I didn’t know how much of Preston’s words the creature understood, but the wolf didn’t seem to like the Reaper any more than I did. So why did it obey him? What kind of hold did Preston have over it?
While Preston glared at the creature, I glanced down at Oliver. Somehow the Spartan had gotten his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. His pain-filled eyes fluttered open, and he looked at me. I nodded, telling him to do whatever he was trying to do. That I’d keep Preston crowing for as long as I could. Bloody fingers shaking, Oliver punched a button on the phone, then another one. I stepped in front of him, so Preston wouldn’t see the light from the screen glowing in the semidarkness.
“How did you even know I’d be here at the ski resort to start with?” I asked. “You took a big risk coming all the way here from wherever you were hiding.”
He shrugged. “Everyone always comes to the Winter Carnival. It’s a Mythos Academy tradition.”
I could have laughed at the irony. Daphne had said those very same words to me earlier this week, but I hadn’t really believed her—or known that such a tradition was probably going to be the death of me. On the floor, Oliver hit some more buttons on his phone.