Curse of the Sphinx (21 page)

“MISS TREADWELL, YOU
seem to be causing quite a stir today.” Mr. Jeffers waved her into the office.

Hope sat down on the edge of the chair and leaned away from the sunlight. “She tried to kick me, sir, and when I blocked her she fell.”

He nodded, as if considering his words. “Do you want to tell me what the fight was about?”

Not really. “She was with a group of her friends, she pushed me, called me a monster, and told me that she was going to get the demigods to kill me.” Hope explained the details of the fight.

“I see.” He took a slow deep breath. “Normally, we suspend instigators, but you’re not really in a position to be missing any more school.”

Had he not heard a word she’d said? “Sir, I didn’t start the fight. You can ask anyone in the hall. They all saw it.” And she was hardly flunking out. Her lowest grade was ninety seven percent in algebra. Last time she checked that was still a solid A.

“And Mrs. Biggers said you will be out the rest of the week?”

“I have meetings with my attorney in Seattle.” She spit out the words.

His leaned forward on his elbows and templed his fingers. “That’s a lot of time to meet with your lawyer.”

What was she supposed to say to that?

When she said nothing, he dropped his hands. “Well, you better go get your homework for the rest of the week. I’d hate for you to get behind.”

Hope stood and walked to the door.

“Oh, and Miss Treadwell?”

She turned and looked back at him. “Yes?”

“No more fights in my school.”

For real? “Yes, sir.”

She stepped out into the hall and leaned against the wall. Students pushed their way through the halls.

“Hope!” Haley yelled over the ruckus. “Oh. My. Gods! I just heard what happened. Did you kick her butt? I can’t believe she did that to you.”

“Word spreads fast.”

“She sent the picture to everyone.”

Hope’s eyebrows drew down. “What picture? What are you talking about?”

Haley’s face mirrored Hope’s confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“No. You first.”

Haley pulled out her phone and turned it to Hope.

There she was. Hope’s face amid a mass of writhing snakes. She looked every bit a Gorgon. Part of her felt outraged, but another, albeit smaller, part was relieved. At least Krista didn’t know.

“Now, what are you talking about?” Haley dropped her phone back into her purse.

“Just a few minutes ago . . . Krista tried to kick me, but when I blocked she fell.”

Haley laughed. “Poetic justice.”

“Sadly, Mr. Jeffers didn’t see it that way. What’s up with him? He keeps lecturing me on missing school, and it’s not like I’m even a bad student.”

Haley snorted. “Oh, yeah. He would totally hate you. You get good grades, but miss classes a lot. You’re like proving how wrong he is, and how school doesn’t even matter.”

“What?”

“His grandmother is Athena.” Haley said by way of explanation. “He thinks the school is his way to get her approval, or something.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“My dad. He’s big into mythology.”

Haley Stanley. Hope shook her head as the dots connected. “Your dad is Mr. Stanley? The butcher?”

Haley shook her head. “I know. I know. But, really, he’s pretty cool. For a dad.”

Hope nodded. “He is cool.” She felt a pang of jealousy. The bell rang, and Hope looked around. “Where’s Athan?”

Haley grimaced. “Sorry. I was supposed to tell you. He had to run home, but he told me to tell you he’d be back before school got out.”

With a sigh, Hope went to algebra.

“HEY, BEAUTIFUL.” ATHAN
leaned against her locker, his head resting on the metal door. He stood up, almost as if peeling himself off. “Sorry I missed your fight today.”

Hope rolled her eyes. “Nothing like the fight you got in. This wasn’t even a fight. No one got hit.”

“I got in a fight? When?”

“Like a month ago, I think?” Hope grabbed the books she’d need for homework for the rest of the week, which was all of them.

“I never got in a fight . . . Whoa! Why are you taking all your books? Are you . . . running away?”

She slammed her locker shut. “If I was running away, I wouldn’t be taking homework.”

“True. All right, I’ll bite. Where are you going?”

“If you’d been here for more than five minutes today, you would know that I have to go to my attorney.”

“For a month?”

“No. just a couple of days.”

Athan nodded. “Bummer. I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Portland. Maybe we should get together tonight?”

They got to her car, and he leaned against the driver’s door, blocking her entrance. As he reached up and twisted the loose strands of hair back into the knot at the nape of her neck, his shirt hem lifted above his waistband, revealing taut golden skin.

It took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Won’t you be tired after your work out?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Hardly.” He hooked a finger in her jeans and pulled her closer to him. “If you’d like to go for a run, I promise I’ll have plenty of energy for you.”

Despite the cold fingers that played with the hem of her shirt, Hope could feel the heat emanating from him.

She shivered and put her hands on his chest. A gust of wind swirled around them. The smells of spring carried possibilities and hope. His free hand took her unruly hair and tucked it behind her ear, then trailed down her neck. Her heart, already a staccato drumming in her chest, surged into cardiac arrest territory.

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds. The light touched Athan’s shoulder revealing a silvery spot, almost like a scar. As Hope traced the odd, irregular mark, it took shape. It seemed unlikely, but it looked just like a lyre.

She shook her head. “What is this?”

He shrugged. “A birthmark. Weird, huh?”

The light dimmed as the wind blew more clouds over the sun. The mark all but disappeared.

“If looks like a harp, kinda.”

“Yeah—” A thumping bass sound from Athan’s pocket interrupted him. “Just a sec.” He pulled out his phone. “Hello?” Silence.

Hope watched as he grimaced, then his jaw clenched.

“All right. All right! I’ll be right there.” He disconnected and sighed.

“Who was that?”

“My dad,” he said. “He came into town this morning.” He frowned. “Do you really need to go away this week?”

Was he using her as an excuse to get out of seeing his dad? “You don’t want to spend time with him?” She would give anything to spend just an hour with her mom again.

“No. It’s not that . . .” He pulled her close. “Could we still do something tonight?” The small gap between them disappeared, and their lower bodies were touching one another. His hands moved to her hips and kept her hostage. “Can we go have dinner, or just . . . spend some time . . .”

Her breath hitched as he kissed the hollow below her ear. “I wish . . . I could,” she managed to say with an uneven breath, “but I’ve got to get stuff ready for my appointment.” She stepped back. “I’d better go.” She didn’t know what else to say.

His eyes shifted, his gaze intent on her face. His phone started ringing again, and he ran his fingers through his hair, ignoring the incessant sound. “Yeah, me too,” he responded. He touched her chin. “Please, be careful,” he whispered. His jaw clenched and a vein visibly pulsed in his neck. “Please.”

He took a step back, painted on a smile, and added, “And have fun.”

She stared at him, something pulling at her consciousness. “Thanks.” She unlocked the door and slid into the car. “See you in a couple of days.”

He wasn’t looking at her, and his fists clenched, then released. “Yeah, see you soon.”

HER INITIAL PLAN
to stay home till her Friday appointment with Mr. Davenport seemed oppressive. She didn’t want to be cooped up for the next two days as a Sphinx. No. She would drive toward Seattle and find an uninhabited area to stop. A place where she could fly. Far away from civilization. She couldn’t afford another sighting.

She ate, gorging herself until she felt like she would burst if she took another bite. Then she packed a couple of sandwiches for the morning. It was all she could do to prevent the need to eat over the next two days.

There were some things she appreciated about being the Sphinx. She loved being able to see at night, as well as over long distances. Her reflexes were better than a human’s, and some of the physical capabilities were fun, like leaping from a tall building and landing on her feet, just like a cat.

Up until her mother’s death, Hope had enjoyed these skills. How had she forgotten that? She could see it clearly now. For months, she had wallowed in self-pity. While she went through the motions of living, it had been a mere existence.

Over the last couple of weeks, she’d drawn strength from her emotions. Her life was a mess, but the choices were hers. She’d felt happy, sad, confused, hurt, angry. Most important, she’d felt. She didn’t want to lose that.

She packed an overnight bag with a change of clothes and toiletries, took her homework to do during the day, then glanced around her house. All set.

She climbed in bed, hoping to sleep before her alarm went off at four o’clock.

It was dark as pitch when she got up.

Eastern Washington was sparsely inhabited in places, and she expected to find somewhere that would serve her purpose. She drove, her mind wandering, and when she hit Toppenish she glanced at the clock. Plenty of time. She continued toward Yakima.

When she hit the freeway, she glanced again in her rearview mirror. Was that Athan’s truck? She slowed to get a better look, but wasn’t able to see more than a few cars behind her through the early morning traffic. I must be delusional, or really obsessed.

The fuel light came on. Flipping on the blinker, she swerved across the three lanes to get to the exit. The early morning hours were cold and dark. Unwilling to leave the safety of the bright lights over the gas pumps, she huddled by her car. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she got back behind the seat and clicked the locks.

As she drove up I-82 toward I-90, she started scanning for a good place to stop.

A sign indicated no services for fifty miles. The pressure in her back was building. She had about twenty minutes before sunrise. This area would have to do.

She drove another ten miles and followed the exit to a four-way stop. The road to the left had grass growing up through the asphalt, and she took several odd turns until she saw a dilapidated barn off a dirt road.

She pulled into the decaying structure, and the smell of old hay and rotting wood assaulted her. As she pulled the sagging barn door closed, she noticed the sky lightening. She undressed and stretched upward.

The first rays of the sun broke the horizon, and the tension in her back released as her wings expanded with a whoosh. She beat her wings’ red-tipped feathers twice, reveling in the strength. She could feel her legs changing, the heaviness pulling at her hips and knees. Then relief, and she sat on her haunches. The soft downy fur that covered her skin was the same golden honey as her hair, and she ran her hand over the silky coat.

She grabbed her backpack and left the barn before the sky got any lighter. It was always risky leaving cover, but she wasn’t waiting.

Instinct took over. She pulled her wings down hard and let them float back up, again and again, creating the change in pressure that would give her lift. When her body left the ground, she laughed. She rose high into the sky, past the low-flying birds, up to where the eagles flew.

She flew north, toward Wenatchee and then Leavenworth. It was too early in the spring for tourists, and the locals were still warm in bed, but she flew high, just in case. Despite the covering of fur that kept her warm, the temperature at this height was biting.

Scanning the ground, she looked for a suitable landing place. There were plenty of wooded areas, and she finally saw one with a small clearing. She circled in closer. No roads, no hiking trails—Hope went through her mental checklist. She landed on her feline feet and padded through the clearing. Satisfied with the isolation it provided, she curled up in the sunlight and slept.