Curse of the Sphinx (13 page)

HOPE NEVER USED
to count the days. Oh, sure, she would count how many days since their last move, but time as a Sphinx wasn’t a burden then. It meant she could fly. Now, it was one more weight, an ever-present secret, a stressor she couldn’t afford to forget. She counted down, like a time bomb, waiting for the explosion that would kill her. Because she knew—
she knew
—sooner or later, she would be discovered, and then she would have to run for her life.

She rolled over to turn off the alarm.

It wasn’t like she was sleeping anyway.

“Oh, craptastic! You came back.”

A shove from behind, and Hope turned.

Krista’s features were contorted into an ugly sneer. “I thought we’d gotten lucky and you moved . . . or died.” She pushed past Hope, followed by her entourage. “Too bad.” The words drifted back with a chorus of snickers.

She shook her head and went to her locker. It didn’t matter.

“Oh. My. Gods. Where were you last week? And Saturday? I totally called you, like a hundred times. Why didn’t you answer?” Haley’s verbal ambush was almost a relief. “You totally disappeared after the”—she held her hands up in air quotes—“Skia attack, which the teachers are all calling a seizure, by the way. I thought maybe . . . Well, anyway, here you are.”

“Yep, here I am.” Hope offered a tentative smile.

The bell rang.

“Okay. I’ll meet you for lunch.” Haley’s brow furrowed. “Where do you eat lunch?” She started walking backwards.

“The library.” Hope turned to go to class.

“I’ll come find you,” Haley yelled, and then sprinted down the hall.

“SO, WERE YOU
really with Athan last week?” Angela whispered.

Hope sat in Chemistry with her book open trying to get some of her make-up work done. There were a few more minutes before class started, and she was scribbling answers.

“Hope?” Angela’s voice interrupted.

She looked up.

“Were you?”

Her face bunched. Did she really need to go there? “Was I what?”

“Were you with Athan Friday?” Angela’s eyes were alight.

Hope recoiled. “Why would you ask that?”

“It’s just a rumor. You were both gone, and someone said you skipped together.” She gave a slight shrug.

Athan? “Uh, no. I was home sick. Thursday
and Friday
.”

“No biggie,” she said mock defensively. “I was just asking.”

Students shuffled in, and the bell rang. Mr. Burgess stood, and Krista came running through the door.

“Sorry. My locker was jammed.” She slid into her seat and tossed her thick curls.

Hope turned away from the sickly-sweet, honeysuckle scent of Krista’s hair.

As class got underway, Hope couldn’t help but wonder, who started that rumor? And why?

Maybe she would ask Athan in algebra. Just the thought made her palms sweat. No, she could ask Haley at lunch.

“I HEARD THAT!”
Haley squealed, and then clapped her hand over her mouth.

They sat in the library in the overstuffed chairs in the back corner. The air was musty and smelled of old paper.

Haley leaned toward Hope and whispered, “Tristan said Lee and Scott were talking about it in gym.”

Lee and Scott. The freckle-faced boy and Brawny Jock. Hope shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

“I know. And did you hear about Chelli?”

Chelli was at home with several broken ribs and a broken leg. Allegedly.

But hadn’t she seen the Skia that Saturday at the river? And if she was a demigod, wouldn’t she have already healed?

Hope nodded. “Is she going to be okay?”

“No one knows. She hasn’t answered her phone since the attack.” Haley arched her eyebrows. “You know what I think?”

Hope leaned forward.

“If Chelli could see the Skia attacking Brand . . . that would make her a demigod, too.”

“Do you think Skia got her, too?”

Haley shook her head. “I think someone rescued her. Took her to a conservatory, maybe.”

“Athan?”

Haley shrugged. “He’d be my guess if he doesn’t come back.”

Hope tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t he come back?”

“Um, duh.” Haley laughed. “If he was searching for other demigods, what is there to come back for now?”

Of course. “Right.”

Twenty-two days until the change

HOPE HAD JUST
turned in her make-up assignment in mythology when Ms. Slate called her down to the office. She knew what this was about, but she’d deluded herself that she’d escaped this conversation when Mr. Jeffers hadn’t called for her yesterday.

“Miss Treadwell.” Mr. Jeffers pointed to the seat across from his desk. “Back again?”

“Sir?” She stood to the side of the chair, wanting to avoid the uncomfortable heat.

“Have a seat, young lady.” His tone brooked no argument.

She gulped and sat. The sun’s rays began to warm her immediately.

“I’m a little disappointed to see you again so soon. Are you all right?”

“I . . . I was sick, sir.” It was the best she’d come up with.

He nodded. “I see. And do you by chance have a doctor’s note?” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk.

“No.” She shifted to the left trying to avoid the sun. “I didn’t go to the doctor. I don’t have one here, yet.”

“Well, I suggest you get one. If you are sick again and miss school, you will need to bring a doctor’s note for your absence to be excused.”

She nodded. It was so unfair. He was being such a stickler to the rules. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t doing well in her classes. She was getting straight
A
s.

Jerk.

“That will be all, Miss Treadwell.”

Her frustration pulsed, but there was no release. Nothing she could do.

So she went to algebra.

“I’m glad you caught up.” Mr. Romero took her assignment and set it on his desk. “We’re moving on to quadratic equations this week, and I’d hate for you to get behind.”

She nodded and went to her desk. The room filled in the minutes before the bell. Hope bowed her head and focused on the numbers and letters in her book. A tapping on her desk drew her focus, but she kept her head down.

“Are you okay?”

She glanced up into Athan’s green eyes. He smiled, and she noticed a scab the size of a quarter on his cheek, like the skin had been rubbed off but hadn’t quite healed.

“You missed school last week.”

“I was sick.” Why was he talking to her?

“I heard. But you’re better now?”

She couldn’t help the furrow. “Uh, yeah. That’s why I’m back at school.”

His hands were scratched up, too, and he looked tired.

“What happened to you?” The question slipped out, and she had no idea where it came from.

He chuckled. “Why Hope, I never thought you’d ask.”

She wanted to laugh at him, but the blush burned at the rational part of her brain.

“Whatever,” she managed and turned away.

“I’m fine. I had a little misunderstanding, but things are resolved now.” The tips of his fingers brushed her forearm.

She flinched. “Did you start that rumor?”

Athan’s brow pulled down. “What rumor?”

Had he not heard? “Uh, about you and, uh, me hanging out.” Could a blush kill you? She could feel it all the way down to her toes.

He smiled. “Maybe we should.”

Halfway through class, Athan brushed by, dropping a note on her lap.

She unfolded the paper and read:
What about dinner tonight?

Her hands clenched, crumpling it into a ball. What the Hades? He was with Stacie, right? Why would he even be asking?

Hope was the first one up when class was dismissed. She dropped the wad of paper into the garbage on the way out the door.

Twenty-one days until the change

“YOU’RE STARING AT
him again,” Haley said.

Hope dropped her head into her locker and grabbed her chemistry book.

“What happened? I mean, you look seriously hacked, like he stole your last cookie or something.”

“Nothing.” She slammed the locker closed. “It’s whatever. He’s a total ’taur.”

“Did you just call him a ’taur, as in Minotaur? Gods, Hope, you’re so weird.”

Hope ignored the ribbing. “You know he asked me out. To dinner. Yesterday.”

“WHAT?!”

Several kids looked over at them.

Hope rolled her eyes. “I know. What a loser.”

“No. Like. Wow. That is—”

“Super lame. He’s with Stacie, right?” Her outrage was totally justified. He should get dropped in a pit somewhere.

“I don’t know. I mean, they’re always together, but, maybe . . .”

Hope shook her head. “Total ’taur.”

Haley shook her head. “I’m so going to ask Tristan. What if you’re wrong?”

The bell rang.

“Crap. I can’t be late again. I’ll see you in Spanish, ’kay?”

Hope nodded.

She wasn’t wrong.

THAT NIGHT THE
cool night air wicked the heat from her body. She turned left on Columbia for another loop around the town.

The sun had set hours ago, and the street lights cast an eerie glow in the shape of hourglasses on the ground. With the waxing moon, the night was bright.

It had been twenty-two days since Priska had disappeared. Three—freaking—weeks.

And Mr. Davenport had been worthless. He didn’t even know what city she’d been in. Why had she been so secretive? How was Hope supposed to rescue Priska—

Hope stumbled over the uneven sidewalk. With a curse, she righted herself. When she looked up, she saw him.

He stood just outside the yellow glow, the same pallid skin, eyes dark as pitch. The Skia that killed Brand.

She gasped, and stepped back. He could kill her! And she’d left the immortal daggers at home.

She stared at his obsidian eyes.

His eyes narrowed.

Her muscles tensed. Her breathing became shallow and her heart raced.

She blinked, and . . .

He was gone.

What the Hades?

She swallowed down her panic, and stepped up to the shadow he’d been under.

Nothing.

The concrete was solid. There was nothing to explain what she’d seen.

Nineteen days until the change

“HE’S SO HOT
, and if he was interested in Stacie, he’s not anymore.” Krista looked like a cat that got the cream. “I saw her in the bathroom crying this morning.”

“Did they hook up?” Angela leaned forward.

Hope rolled her eyes, but her interest was piqued nonetheless.

“They hung out and everything, but . . . Get this—he never even kissed her.”

“Right.” Angela’s disbelief colored her tone.

Hope was with Angela on this. She’d seen the two sitting in the library last week during lunch. Stacie was on his lap.

“
Seriously
. And Athan said they were never together. Like, not at all.”

But if they weren’t together, then why was Stacie on his lap?

The bell rang. Hope gathered her things and shoved them into her backpack. As she walked out the door, she glanced back at Krista and Angela.

Thud!

“Easy there.” Warm hands gripped her arms to steady her, and she looked up into dark-green eyes. “You all right?” Athan stepped forward even as he continued to hold her in place.