Chapter 1
“I have a confession to make.”
Logan Quinn looked over at me. “Really, Gypsy girl? What’s that?”
I shifted on my feet. “I don’t actually like coffee.”
The Spartan stared at me a moment before his lips curved up into a teasing grin. “You probably should have mentioned that before now.”
Yeah, I probably should have, since we were in a coffee shop. A large counter, lots of comfy leather chairs, wrought-iron tables, paintings of gods and goddesses on the walls, a display case full of blueberry scones, lemon-raspberry tarts, and decadent chocolate cheesecakes. Kaldi’s Coffee Emporium looked like your typical java joint, except that everything was first-class and super-pricey all the way, from the fancy espresso machines that hissed and burped to the rich, dark aroma of the ridiculously expensive coffee that flavored the air.
Then again, such luxury was the norm in the upscale stores in Cypress Mountain, North Carolina. The Mythos Academy kids accepted nothing less than the best, and Kaldi’s was one of the most popular places to Hang Out and Be Seen when the students had free time, like we did today. Afternoon classes and activities had been canceled so all the kids could attend some big assembly at the academy’s amphitheater. I wasn’t sure what the assembly was going to be about. Probably some more hearty reassurances from the professors and the staff that all us warrior whiz kids were as safe as we could be at the academy, even though the evil god Loki was free.
For a moment, a face flashed before my eyes—the most hideous face I’d ever seen. One side so perfect, with its golden hair, piercing blue eye, and smooth features. The other side so completely ruined, with its limp strings of black hair, burning red eye, and melted skin.
Loki—the evil god that I’d helped set free against my will.
A shudder rippled through my body. Thanks to my psychometry magic, I never forgot anything I saw, but the image of Loki’s double-face was burned into my memory. No matter what I was doing or whom I was with, no matter how hard I tried to forget what had happened, I saw the Norse trickster god’s image everywhere I went. Gleaming in the windows of my classrooms, shining in the glossy surface of my dorm room desk, shimmering in the mirror, like a devil perched on my shoulder.
I shuddered again. It had taken all the strength I had not to scream when I’d brushed my hair this morning and had suddenly seen Loki grinning at me in my bathroom mirror, the perfect side of his face lifted up into a smile, and the ruined side turned down into a horrible, twisted grin—
“Gypsy girl?” Logan asked in a soft voice. “Are you still here with me?”
I pushed away all thoughts of Loki and made myself smile at the Spartan even though I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around myself and huddle into a ball in the corner.
“I know, I know,” I grumbled. “I should have told you that I don’t actually drink coffee. I just didn’t want anything to ruin our first date, and when you suggested coffee ...”
“You went along with it,” Logan finished.
I shrugged.
Maybe it was thinking of Loki and his split face, but as I looked at Logan, I was once again reminded of how different we were. Simply put, Logan Quinn was gorgeous, with his thick, ink black hair and intense, ice blue eyes. His designer jeans, blue sweater, and leather jacket only highlighted how strong and muscled his body was.
Next to him, I pretty much faded into the background. The most interesting thing about my wavy brown hair was how frizzy it was today. You might look twice at my eyes, which were an unusual shade of violet, but the only thing special about me was the necklace I wore. Six silver strands wrapped around my throat before their diamond-tipped points formed a snowflake in the middle of the design. A Christmas gift from Logan, one that I almost always wore, even though it didn’t exactly go with my plain gray sweater, purple plaid jacket, and not-so-designer jeans and sneakers.
And it wasn’t just our looks and clothes that were different. Logan was a fierce Spartan warrior who was the best fighter at the academy. I was still trying to figure out how to wield a sword, even though I was Nike’s Champion, the girl picked by the Greek goddess of victory to help her fight Loki and his Reapers of Chaos here in the mortal realm. Something I had failed at pretty miserably so far, since Loki was free and bent on plunging the world into a second Chaos War.
“You know what, Gypsy girl?” Logan said, once again interrupting my troubled thoughts. “Nothing could ruin this date. Ask me why.”
“Why?”
He slung his arm around my shoulder and grinned. “Because I’m on it with you.”
And suddenly, everything was okay, and I could breathe again.
That’s why I was head over heels for the Spartan. Logan could be everything from fun and flirty to stubborn and infuriating, but then he went and said things like
that.
Was it any wonder I had such a massive crush on him?
Okay, okay, so maybe it had started out as a crush a few months ago, but given everything we’d been through, my feelings for the cute Spartan warrior had quickly deepened into something more: love. At least, that’s what I thought it was; that’s what it felt like to me—this warm, soft, fizzy feeling that filled my heart whenever the Spartan grinned at me, whenever he teased me or tried to make me forget about my worries, at least for a little while.
Like now.
I sighed and put my head down on his shoulder. Logan hugged me to his chest. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Just being close to him was enough for me, after all these months we’d spent dancing around each other.
“You guys ready to order?” the barista asked.
We stepped up to the counter. The Spartan ordered a triple espresso since he loved the caffeine rush, while I got a hot, honey-pomegranate tea. Logan started to pull his wallet out of his jeans, but I beat him to it and handed the barista a twenty-dollar bill.
“My treat,” I said. “After all, I’m the one who suggested coffee in the first place way back in the fall.”
Logan nodded. “That you did. All right, Gypsy girl. Your treat—this time. The next round’s on me.”
We got our drinks and went over to a table in the corner of the shop next to a stone fireplace. Since the students had been given the afternoon off, we weren’t the only Mythos kids who’d decided to come to Kaldi’s and get something to eat and drink before the assembly started in another hour or so. I spotted several students I knew, including Kenzie Tanaka, Logan’s Spartan friend, who was here on his own date with Talia Pizarro, a pretty Amazon in my gym class. I waved at them, and Kenzie winked at me before turning his attention back to Talia.
“What is
he
doing here with
her?
” A sneering voice drifted over to me.
I looked to my right to see Helena Paxton staring at me. Helena was a stunning Amazon with caramel-colored hair and eyes. Since Jasmine Ashton’s death in the fall, Helena had established herself as the new mean-girl queen of the second-year, seventeen-year-old students at Mythos. She sat at a nearby table with two of her Amazon friends, all of them dressed in pricey jeans, stiletto boots, and tight, fitted sweaters; they had perfect hair, jewelry, purses, and makeup to match.
“I thought Logan’s standards were a little higher than that. Guess I was wrong. Then again, guys will do anything—and anyone—to get some.”
Helena’s voice was low, but the cruel smile on her face told me that she meant for me to hear every word. I’d never done anything to Helena, except stand up for another girl she had been teasing, but that had been enough to put me on the Amazon’s hit list. Now, every time she saw me, Helena went out of her way to be snotty to me. Try as I might, I could never seem to get the best of the Amazon, not even dream up a quick comeback to get her to just shut up.
Helena murmured something else to her friends, and they all started snickering. My hand tightened around my mug of tea. Not for the first time, I wished that I had an Amazon’s quickness so I could bean Helena in the head with my mug. But she would only catch it and throw the mug back at me before I could blink.
“Ignore them,” Logan said in a low voice. “They’re just jealous that you’re here with me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. You and your ego.”
Logan’s grin widened, and I couldn’t help laughing. No matter how bad things got, the Spartan could always make me laugh. Something else that added to that warm, fizzy feeling in my chest.
We sat there in silence, listening to the murmurs from the other kids and the gurgles of the espresso machines. After all the battles we’d survived recently, it was nice to just sit with Logan without worrying about what was going to happen next, what new crises would pop up, or what Reapers might be lurking around, masquerading as students, professors, or even the coffee shop staff.
But after a few minutes, the reality of the situation hit me. I was on a date with Logan freaking Quinn, one of the cutest guys at Mythos Academy—and I had no idea what to say to him.
“So ... what do people talk about on dates?”
Logan looked up from his espresso. “What do you mean?”
I shifted in my seat. “I mean you have a lot more experience at this than I do.”
In fact, Logan had a reputation for being a total man-whore who went from one girl at the academy to the next. Me? I’d had exactly one boyfriend for a grand total of three weeks before I’d met Logan. So going on a date was still sort of a new experience for me. Besides, the Spartan had this natural, easy charm that made everyone like him—girls and guys alike. Me? I was about as charming as a wet sock.
“I mean, I know what we talk about at the academy all the time. You know, weapons training, where Loki might be hiding at, when he’s going to come and kill us all, how we’re supposed to stop him.”
Actually, that last one was more like how
I
was supposed to kill the evil god. Yeah, me, kill an actual, living, breathing, walking, talking
god
. And not just any god, but Loki, who was pretty much evil incarnate.
But that was the seemingly impossible mission Nike had given me the last time I’d seen her a couple of weeks ago—something I hadn’t shared with Logan or any of my friends. Kill a god. I had no idea how Nike expected me to do that. I had no idea how
anyone
could do that, especially me, Gwen Frost, that weird Gypsy girl who touched stuff and saw things.
Logan kept staring at me, and I found myself opening my mouth once more.
“I mean, I guess we could talk about how I’m actually getting a little better at using weapons, although I doubt that I’ll ever be in your league. Or we could talk about Nyx, and how totally cute she is. Or Daphne and her healing magic. Or Carson and how obsessed he is with the winter concert the band is putting together ...”
Babbling. I was finally out on a real date with Logan, and I was babbling like a windup doll someone had cranked into high gear.
Logan reached over and put his hand on top of mine, which was still wrapped around my mug. “Relax, Gypsy girl. Relax. You’re doing just fine. We don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. I’m just happy to be here with you and relax, especially with everything that’s been going on these past few weeks. You know?”
His fingers felt warm and firm against my own, but more than that, I felt the warmth in Logan’s heart—and all his feelings. His strength, his bravery, his determination to fight Reapers and to protect me no matter what. All those images, all those feelings flashed through my mind, driving away the doubts I felt about me, Logan, and everything else that was going on right now.
My psychometry magic let me know, see, and feel the history of any object I touched, and the same was true when it came to other people. More than once, my hand had brushed against someone else’s, and I’d realized that what they said didn’t match what they felt. That’s what had happened with my first boyfriend. He’d kissed me, and I’d realized that he was really thinking about another girl instead.
But I didn’t have to worry about any of that with Logan. I knew all the Spartan’s secrets, and he knew mine. Well, except for the whole
Gwen’s-supposed-to-kill-Loki
thing. I still wasn’t sure exactly how to bring that up, and I wasn’t going to. Not today. There would be time enough to obsess and worry about that later. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy my date with Logan.
“How is it that you always know just what to do and say to make me feel better?” I said.
Logan grinned. “Just another part of that Spartan killer instinct. I can slay the ladies just as well as I can Reapers.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned over to punch him in the shoulder—and managed to knock over his espresso and my tea. Liquid cascaded all over the table, most of it spilling off the far side and into Logan’s lap. The Spartan jumped up, but he didn’t have an Amazon’s quickness, so he couldn’t avoid getting soaked.
“Sorry!” I said, getting to my own feet. “I’m so sorry!”
I reached for the silver holder on the table, intending to rip some napkins out of it, but instead, I ended up knocking it to the floor as well. The napkin holder
clang-cla-cla-clanged
across the floor.