Curse of the Sphinx (19 page)

They pulled up to her house, and he turned the ignition off. The light from across the street was muted through the tinted windows, and they sat cocooned in his truck.

“I didn’t realize it was so late. I should get to bed.”

She gathered her clutch and jacket, and was surprised when Athan got out of the truck and headed toward the passenger side. Before she could get her seatbelt off, he was opening her door.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

“Of course I do. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a date.”

The word brought heat to her cheeks.

When they reached the porch, Hope looked at him, seeing him as if for the first time. His green eyes blazed with live flame, and his tawny hair fell forward just enough that her fingers itched to push through it. With his proximity she could smell him, a hint of soap and the richness that was completely him. Almost like a magnet, she inched toward him.

His hand came up and gently stroked her collarbone with just the tips of his fingers. He regarded her with wonder. “I have to say, Hope Treadwell, I’m interested in you.” His hand circled her neck, his fingers wound into her hair, and he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Very interested.”

He leaned back, searching her face. She said nothing but forced herself to meet his eyes. Her heart pounded, running its own race, and her knees trembled. His hand cupped her chin, and his thumb stroked her lower lip. He brought his head low enough that their breath mingled.

Her eyes fluttered. Waiting.

Athan closed his eyes, and with a swallow he pulled back, his hand dropping to his side. He turned and was down the steps before she was able to gather her thoughts.

“See you tomorrow.” his voice was rough.

Dumbfounded and confused, she stood staring at him. She should say something, but words failed her. It took a concentrated effort for her to turn toward the door and not chase him out to his truck.

It took several seconds to gather herself enough to focus on the door and getting it open. When she finally did, she was surprised to see Athan still waiting at the curb. She forced a smile and wave before she closed the door.

Seriously . . . What
was
that?

He was going to kiss her, but then he pulled back? Did she have bad breath? Something between her teeth?

No biggie, she told herself. Was
she
even interested in him?

The answer was instantaneous.

HOPE HELD THE
green basket limply in one hand, the wrapped steaks rolling from side to side. In her other hand, she held a large piece of poster board. She stood in line at the Red Apple waiting. The one cashier today had to be approaching sixty, and her burgundy hair clashed with the red employee vest. By the time Hope got out, she might be sixty, too.

She glanced at the candy and gum, and turned. The other side of the aisle was lined with glossy covers featuring cakes, swim-suit clad models, and airbrushed movie stars. Interspersed were matte covers of “news” papers reporting alien babies and talking animals. Although, maybe there was some truth to the talking animal thing.

Oh. Sweet. Hera.

Monster Tore Up My Orchard

Hope set her basket down, and grabbed the
Daily Star
.

Danny Graves woke early that March morning to get the cows out to pasture. The birds were chirping and the weather was unusually mild for early spring. That’s when he heard the terrible screams. “Sounded like someone cryin’ and dyin’ all at the same time. They was hollerin’ and such something awful.” What he found when he went to investigate left him speechless. “My orchard was just destroyed. Big ole trees all torn up, like someone was pluckin’ weeds—roots hanging upside down and all.”

Hope swallowed. This could not be happening. How could she have been so careless? After all the warnings from her mom. The disappointment was sour, and hard to swallow.

Graves claims to have heard the banshee-like screams for several minutes. He was shocked when, as the sky was lightening, he witnessed a large beast flying out of his orchard. “I must have been right scared ’cause I didn’t even think to use my shortie,” Graves said, as he patted a sawed off shotgun beside him. According to Graves, the monster had the wings of a bird, the legs of an animal, and a top half that looked human.

“Do you want to get that?” The clerk looked over her glasses at Hope.

“Oh, uh. No. No, thank you.” Hope put the paper back in the wire bracket, face down. If only it were that easy to bury the story.

“Readin’ about the Sphinx, huh?”

“What?” Anxiety rolled from her neck through her chest, leaving her skin pickled with chill.

“That’s what they’re calling it. That monster that tore up that man’s orchard.”

Hope nodded. Hades in hell.

“Seventeen eighty-two.”

Hope handed her a twenty.

“Then he got a bunch of ancient coins worth a fortune in the mail. He’ll never have to work again, they say.” She held out Hope’s change. “You have yourself a nice day, and don’t worry none. They’ll catch that monster soon enough, just you see.”

Hope nodded and left the store. That was
exactly
what she was afraid of.

The information on the internet confirmed everything the grocery clerk had said, and went further. There was even a petition at the end of the article asking for demigods to hunt down the beast.

Great.

Hope didn’t sign it.

By late afternoon she was restive and cross. She hadn’t heard from Athan, and Haley was out with Tristan. She needed to get out of her house. More than anything, she wanted a run.

It’s fine. You want to run, so run.
She decided that despite her fear, she would. She changed her clothes, and strapped on the Velcro belt that held the leather sheath. She’d improvised a casing for an immortal dagger, and strapped the golden knife to her hip, tucking it into her shorts. It felt odd, but she wasn’t running without one of the blades.

The sun was setting as Hope took her second lap around the small town. She waved at Tristan and Haley who were having dinner on the patio of Sal’s Pizza, the smell of oregano and yeasty bread heavy in the air.

She rounded the corner and slowed to a jog, and then a walk. The anemic streetlights did nothing to light the path at dusk, and the sidewalk around her house was broken and uneven.

In four days she would change again. Tuesday was going to suck. Hard. She needed to come up with something to tell Haley and Athan before she left—

A man walked from the darkness between two homes.

Oh gods.

“Little monster,” he rasped.

The Skia was the same one that had killed the demigod, Brand. Her heart raced, and she pulled out the golden blade waving it in front of her. “Stay away from me!” Her voice trembled.

He chuckled. “You don’t even know how to use that, Sphinx.”

Her stomach churned. She couldn’t deny it. “Don’t come any closer, or you’ll find out how well I use it.”

He stepped back and put his hands up, but the leer plastered on his face showed no fear.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said.

“Then what do you want?” Her eyes darted to the shadows, then back to him.

“To gather information for my master.” His laugh was a dry wheeze. “The gods are all astir . . . Because of you.”

A door slammed, and someone cursed.

“Be careful, Sphinx. Your curse will not protect you from . . . everything.”

Hope turned to see a man in cutoff jeans and a dirty tank top coming off his dilapidated front porch. “Who’s there?” He slurred the words.

Hope turned back to the Skia but he was gone. Hope said nothing as she slunk past the man dragging his garbage can to the curb.

What did it say that she was more afraid of the drunk man than the Skia?

She got inside her house and locked the door behind her, once again grateful for the protection of Hecate.

She showered and dressed in pajamas. She ate the rest of the steak she’d grilled earlier, then started on her last bit of homework.

In black marker she outlined the endothermic reaction of citric acid and baking soda on the bright-pink poster board.

Her phone buzzed, then rang.

Finally. She tapped
Accept
and brought it to her ear.

“Hey, are you done with your chemistry poster, yet?” Hope asked.

A man chuckled. “I had no idea you’d be so young.”

Her stomach dropped. “Who is this?” She held the phone out and looked at the screen. No. No, no, no!

“We know what you are . . . Sphinx.” He hissed the last word, as if a curse.

She clenched the phone, her knuckles turning white. “Who are you?” She pushed the words out in an anxious whisper. “Where’s Priska?”

“We will destroy you. And we will send you to Hades.”

“WHERE’S PRISKA?”

The man laughed.

Her hand shook, and she tapped
End
over and over and over. Could they trace a cell phone?

Her phone rang again. And again. And again.

What could she do?

Thud, thud, thud.

Hope screamed.

“Hope?” Haley’s voice came through the door. “I know you’re home!”

Hope undid the deadbolt, then pulled open the door.

“So, did I see you run by Sal’s earlier?” Haley pushed past, closing the door behind her. “I thought I saw you.” She stopped at the kitchen table. “And how much more homework do you have? I wanted to go to Portland tonight, but we’ll never make it back by ten. Maybe we could go to Yakima. I’m dying to go shopping.” She turned and looked at Hope. “Holy Hades, what happened to you? Was . . . Was that you screaming?”

Hope couldn’t stop the tremor, and she nodded. “Yeah. I . . . just . . . uh . . . Remember those prank calls I was getting? Well, they’ve been calling, again. So . . . I need to get a new phone.”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting the new iPhone.” Haley’s shoulders sagged, then she straightened. “Wait, did you say those guys are calling again? Oh. My. Gods. For real?”

Hope nodded. “Do you know if you can trace where a phone is? Like the physical location?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She frowned. “We can ask at the store. And if they can, we’ll just dump it in the river. Are you all right?”

Hope nodded and grabbed her coat. “Yeah. Let’s go. Now.”

Hope locked the door while Haley went out to get the car started. As she turned, she saw the short Skia standing in the shadow of a tree. He nodded once and faded away.

Her heart couldn’t take anymore.

She ran to the car.

ATHAN HAD NEVER
called back. She lay in bed and thought about their date two days ago. It seemed like forever. And that moment at the door? She was sure he was going to kiss her. But then, why didn’t he?

She kicked off the covers.

A couple hours later, she pulled into the back parking lot of the school. Her phone buzzed, then rang, and after checking the screen, she answered it with a frown.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Melody at Mr. Davenport’s office, will you please hold for Mr. Davenport?”

Hope rolled her eyes. She’d called him not even twenty minutes ago with her new phone number. “Of course.”

The sounds of classical music filled her ear, and then: “Hope?”

“You called me, Mr. Davenport.”

He laughed. “So I did. How are you holding up?”

She told him about Mr. Jeffers and her worry about getting in trouble with the truancy board, and her emancipation being threatened. “I need to change again in two days, and . . . I just don’t think I could go back into foster care,” she said.

“I won’t let that happen. If he files a truancy order, just forward it to me.”

She nodded. “Okay. Have you found anything? About Priska?” Hope asked.

Mr. Davenport sighed. “No. That’s partly why I’m calling. Priska was the trustee over your assets. With her . . . disappearance, I’ve got to redraft the trust. I think the easiest thing to do is make you the trustee, now that you’re emancipated.”

“What does that mean?”

He explained in great detail that she would have sole discretion over her money. “Just like it’s been, except this will make it official.”

“So what do I need to do?

He chuckled. “Just come sign a bunch of papers, or I could mail them, or even email them.”

“No. I’ll just come over. At least this way, I’ll have an excuse to be gone.” She thought about how she could tell her teachers she had a meeting with her attorney. That was a good reason to be absent, right?”

“Hello?” Mr. Davenport said.

“Sorry, sorry. I was looking at the calendar. Could I come on Friday? Nine o’clock-ish?”

“Sure. That would fine. See you then.” He disconnected the call, and Hope let her arm fall. Now she would need to talk to her teachers and get the makeup work.

She looked around the parking lot. Where was Athan?

She spent the day going through her normal routine. Athan never showed up.

“WHAT THE HADES
, Hope!” Haley slammed Hope’s locker shut. The last bell had rung, and Hope was trying to collect her homework. “You can’t go and hook up over the weekend and not tell me. I mean, we were out all last night, and you said nothing about your date.” Haley air-quoted the word
date
.

Hope rolled her eyes and started her combination. “We didn’t hook up,” she grumbled.

“What?”

“I said, we didn’t hook up.” Hope glared at her friend.

Haley’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure, because I heard—”

“For real? Like I wouldn’t know?” It was so frustrating. Athan hadn’t even called since . . . Hope pursed her lips, the epiphany breaking slowly. She wanted Athan to like her. Oh. Gods.

“Whoa. You’re totally right. You would know. Sorry.”

Hope leaned back. “No. I just . . .” This was so much worse than breaking a taboo on friendship. “Where were you this morning?”

“What? What happened? Did Krista tell you that she and Athan . . .” Haley waved her arms together and apart, then shook her head. “Okay. She’s psycho. I’m going to have to talk with Tristan. Because I seriously can’t be around that harpy anymore. It was. Disgusting.” She batted her eyes at rubbed up on Hope. “Oh, Athan, you big, strong man, let me sit on your lap, and lick your face. I just want to see if you taste as sweet as you look. Oh, yum, yum.” She licked Hope’s face.

“Oh, gross!” Hope pulled away.

Haley started laughing. “It was sick.”

Tristan walked up to them. “How come you don’t do that to me?” he asked with a chuckle.

“You like
that
?” Haley pursed her lips and inched away from him.

“Ah, no,” he said with a snort, then turned to Hope. “Was she telling you about Saturday?”

Hope nodded.

Tristan tilted his head toward her and whispered, “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Before Hope could correct him, or question him, he straightened. “Come on Haley, let’s go get something to eat.”

Haley left with a wave.

It took Hope a few more minutes to gather her thoughts and her books.

She drove to the Red Apple after school. She was relieved to see Mr. Stanley behind the meat counter weighing hamburger.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment, Hope,” Mr. Stanley greeted her with his usual warmth.

She nodded.

Mr. Stanley finished wrapping a man’s dinner, and then turned to her.

“How are you? It’s been a few days.” He acknowledged her absence in a way that made her feel missed, not guilty.

“Yeah.” She deliberated for only a second. “I’ve been hanging out with Mrs. Stephens’s nephew, Athan.”

Mr. Stanley nodded. “Is he nice?”

She found herself telling Mr. Stanley almost everything; starting at the Red Apple the previous Friday up to the dinner last night. She edited out the attack in the Dalles and the almost kiss.

They were interrupted several times by customers, but the tale seemed to hold his interest, and so Hope continued talking. When she finished she looked up at the butcher, standing still in contemplation.

When it was clear she was finished, he said, “Well, you’ve had a lot going on.” He didn’t offer advice, nor did he pry.

Talking made her feel better. She thanked him.

“Sure, anytime. I’ve got three daughters, and even though two of them aren’t home anymore, I still hear about their days plenty.” He paused momentarily. “Hey, I found a great riddle online. Do you want to hear it?”

She nodded.

“Okay, here it is. I make you weak at the worst of all times. I keep you safe, I keep you fine. I make your hands sweat and your heart grow cold. I visit the weak, but seldom the bold. What am I?”

She thought about the riddle for a few minutes. It seemed vaguely familiar. Then she remembered. It was one her mom told her a couple years ago after an especially bad day at school.

“Fear,” she answered confidently.

Mr. Stanley nodded. “Yep. Boy, that one threw me. How is it that you are so good at riddles?”

Her smile was wistful and brief. “It’s in my blood. My mom and grandmother studied them for years. In fact, one of my grandmother’s passions was riddles.”

“Excuse me.” An older woman looked from Hope to Mr. Stanley tentatively. “Can I get some pork chops?”

“I’ll let you go.” She waved as she turned to leave.

“Bye, Hope,” he called after her before turning to the shopper.

She got home and sat at the kitchen table doing homework for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. She ate leftovers and finished her work. She was restless after sitting for so long. A short run was just what she needed. The night was brisk, but after the first mile the cool air felt delicious on her bare arms. She modified her loop, going up and down side streets to increase the distance of the run.

Which was the only reason she ran into him.

He was walking past the community hospital, dressed in jeans and a pale-blue T-shirt. The light shirt was a beacon in the dark night.

As if on cue, he turned.

That can’t be . . .
There were worry lines that didn’t seem to fit his face, his shadowed features told of sleeplessness, and instead of his normal teasing smirk, his lips were drawn.

As she drew closer, she could see the lines fade as if shadows.

“Athan?”

“Hope.” He said her name as though it was a life raft. His eyes met hers hungrily. His shuffling turned to a determined stride, and he closed the gap, but he stopped just short of her.

“Are you all right?” Her concern was a presence between them.

“Oh. Yeah.” He sighed, sounding defeated. “There was a lot I needed to sort out, and it all hit me today.”

She nodded. The first couple of months after her mother died had passed in a fog of despair. Maybe it was the same for him. “Is it about your mom?” she asked.

“Oh, no. No. My mom . . .” He sighed again. “I haven’t been totally honest. My mom passed away a while ago. I’ve been living with extended family for years. But, when I move . . . It’s easier than trying to explain my family situation.”

As she listened, she found herself nodding. His quick adjustment hadn’t been so quick. “But then, what
is
wrong?”

“Actually,” he continued, “I was thinking about change.”

“About change?”

“Have you ever,” he started and broke off. A deep breath. He met her gaze. “Have you ever felt so comfortable, and then your world turned upside down? I knew what my responsibilities were, what was important, and how to accomplish what needed to be done . . .”

“Like, you thought you had all the answers, only to find out you didn’t even know what the questions were?”

“Exactly.” He practically simmered with emotion.

“That first month after my mom died,” she started softly, her voice just above a whisper. “I pretty much sat in my room. I felt bewildered. Then I got angry. When I finally grasped that it was just me, I started moving, thinking, doing again.”

She thought of leaving Bellevue, living in foster care, and coming to Goldendale, the changes each had been painful. Even now, if she thought too much, the memories felt like picking off a scab before the cut was healed.

Hope took a deep breath, pulling her focus to the now. Because now didn’t hurt nearly so much.

“So what kind of change are you having a hard time with?” She brushed a sweaty strand of hair back from her face.

His brows pulled together in a look of perplexity. “It’s. . . What I thought was important doesn’t seem to be so important anymore.”

What did he mean? He wasn’t talking about her, was he?

He glanced at her sweaty figure. “You were out for a run. May I walk with you?”

As they approached her house, they bumped shoulders. Hope laughed as he pretended to stagger from the impact. When he drew close again, his hand grazed hers and caught it.

When they were on the porch, Athan leaned against the wall, his gaze drilled into her.

“What?” She breathed.

Athan brushed loose strands of hair behind her ear, and then traced his fingers down her neck to her shoulder. He tilted his head and focused on her lips. “I want to kiss you, Hope.” He leaned in, his hand cupped the back of her neck, his fingers threading into her hair. His lips brushed her skin as he breathed in her ear. “And I want you to kiss me back.” His lips touched the hollow behind her ear, then traced a path across her jawbone.

The world stopped. Her heart exploded in a sensation that was wholly unfamiliar, but completely wonderful. A breathy sigh escaped her lips.

His breath was warm on her skin, and her lips parted to breathe him in. She wanted to say yes, wanted to tell him she wanted the same thing—for them to be together. The words wouldn’t come. Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned forward in anticipation.

His arm circled her waist, his hand at the small of her back pulling her to him. His lips brushed hers lightly first, then with more pressure. His lips were soft and warm. The kiss tender and sweet.

Athan pulled away, and Hope was left off balance.

“Hmm.” He looked almost sleepy, but his smile was mischievous. “Again?”

“Please.” Her hands ran up his chest and to the back of his neck. Her fingers trailed into his silky hair. Their lips brushed again and again, and then more deeply.

When they broke apart, both were breathing heavy.

“What are your plans tomorrow?” His hands continued to trace the back of her neck, trail over her shoulders.