Jennifer Estep Bundle (28 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Estep

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“But if it was all an illusion, how did your blood wind up all over my clothes?” I asked.
I still had the purple hoodie and jeans crumpled up in the bottom of my laundry basket. The last time that I'd looked, the bloodstains had still been on them.
“Because once a person believes in an illusion, it's real to them. Once you believe in something, you give it life and form and substance. You thought you saw my blood, so it ended up all over your clothes. Just like Metis, Ajax, and Nickamedes thought they saw my body, so they packed it up and put it in cold storage in the basement of the math-science building. That's where they keep all the bodies, you know.”
No, I hadn't known that, and I kind of wished she hadn't told me. A morgue in math-science? Creepy.
I jerked my head at the pacing prowler. “And what about your kitty cat there? How did you get it onto campus? When? And why?”
Jasmine shrugged. “Another illusion. I made it look like a hungry stray cat that came onto campus looking for food tonight. The sphinxes on the main gates didn't even glance twice at it, much less attack it like they're supposed to do to intruders. Nickamedes isn't quite as clever with his spells as he thinks he is. As for why, well, I thought that it might be good to have the real thing handy since your Spartan boyfriend killed my illusion last night.”
“You're talking about what happened with the statue,” I said. “So you pushed it over the side of the library, trying to hit Morgan and Samson with it?”
“I did.” Jasmine's eyes flicked to Morgan. “I was enjoying a little fresh air out on the fourth-floor balcony when I saw what they were doing. I admit my temper got the best of me and made me want to kill both of them right then and there, instead of sticking with my plan for tonight. But lucky for them, you were there to shout out a warning. Of course, that made me rather angry at
you,
which is why I conjured up that prowler illusion. I was going to let it claw you to death for getting in my way. But, of course, Logan Quinn showed up and got the best of it instead.”
“And the Bowl of Tears?” I asked. “Why steal it?”
Jasmine let out another laugh that reminded me of the prowler's hiss. “Oh, I didn't
steal
it at all. The Bowl's been right here in the library the whole time, just like I have. There's a storage room on the fourth floor where nobody ever goes. I've been sneaking stuff up there ever since the semester started: food, clothes, a sleeping bag. That's where I've been staying the past few days, along with the Bowl. Nickamedes put so many enchantments on the Bowl that it can't leave the library, enchantments that I couldn't break. So I used my illusion magic to hide it, to make everyone think that the Bowl had been stolen and taken somewhere far, far away. And it worked, too. It all worked—but then you started snooping around.”
I shifted on my feet.
Jasmine stared at me, tilting her head to one side. “You know, I've been watching you the past few days, and I just can't figure out why you cared so much about me. You weren't one of my friends. You didn't even know me.”
“No,” I said in a quiet voice. “But I didn't think that you deserved to die like that. I wanted to find out what happened to you. I felt sorry for you, that you had died.”
Jasmine's face hardened. “You? Felt sorry for me? You're nobody, Gypsy. You don't have any friends, and you don't belong here. You're pathetic.”
The sneer in her voice made me stand up a little straighter. “I have a name. It's Gwen Frost. I'm not
nobody.
And you think I'm pathetic? I'm not the girl who faked her own death just so she could get some sort of twisted revenge on her best friend.
That's
pathetic.”
Jasmine's face darkened at my insult, but she let out another laugh. “You think this is just about me getting revenge on Morgan? Oh, Gypsy, you really have no idea what you're dealing with, do you?”
I shrugged. “So tell me. You're just going to kill me anyway.”
“Oh yes,” Jasmine said, dashing any hope I had that she'd let me live. “But this is about so much more than Morgan and the fact that she can't keep her legs closed. This—this is about Chaos.”
When she said the word “Chaos,” a sort of ... breeze gusted through the library, some sort of force that made the bookcases creak and my skin crawl. But the weirdest thing was the Bowl of Tears. Morgan was still holding it in her hands, but, for a moment I thought that I saw a face shimmer in the air above it. A twisted, evil, melted, screaming sort of face. The sight made my stomach knot up.
“You're—you're actually a Reaper of Chaos?” I asked in a whisper. “One of the bad guys? You actually serve the god Loki and want to bring him back into this world?”
Jasmine nodded her head. “Now you're catching on. You're not as dumb as you look, Gypsy. There are lots of Reapers at Mythos, kids and profs. And it's not just me. My whole family are Reapers. We always have been. Sshh. Don't tell anyone at the academy, though. All the professors think that my family is so good, that I'm so well-bred. Metis would really get her panties in a twist if she knew that my family's been serving Loki for centuries. When they announced in my myth-history class that Nickamedes was bringing the Bowl of Tears out of storage and putting it on display in the library, well, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. A way to get back at Morgan and serve my god at the same time.”
“But—”
“Enough!” she snapped. “Enough talking. I'm bored now. It's time to get on with things, starting with the sacrifice that Morgan is going to make tonight.”
She turned to look at the other Valkyrie, who had remained silent and frozen through all of this, although blood still dripped down her cheek from where Jasmine had stabbed her with the homecoming crown.
“Morgan,” Jasmine said, her voice sounding exactly like the prowler's hiss. “Go lie down on top of one of the tables and take the Bowl with you. And don't spill a drop of the blood inside it.”
Morgan jerked forward, as though she were a puppet and Jasmine were the one pulling her crazy strings. I watched, horrified, as Morgan climbed up onto the closest library table, lay down on it, and put the Bowl in the middle of her chest. And just like Jasmine had commanded, she didn't spill a drop.
From the depths of her crimson cloak, Jasmine drew out a dagger with a ruby set into the hilt. I recognized it, too—it was the same one that I'd seen on the floor in the library the night I'd thought she'd died. Now I knew why the dagger hadn't had any blood on it—because the puddles had all just been illusions to start with.
My brain kicked into gear, and I finally realized what she was going to do with the dagger—she was going to sacrifice her best friend to an evil god. Jasmine was actually going to kill Morgan right in front of me, and there was nothing that I could do to stop it.
“Stop!” I screamed, starting forward. “Get away from her!”
Jasmine looked over her shoulder at me and gave a dismissive sniff.
“Kill her,” Jasmine ordered the prowler, and turned back to Morgan.
The creature licked its lips and sprang at me.
Chapter 21
Before I could save Morgan, I had to save myself from the prowler.
I didn't have time to think about what I was doing, so I threw the book that I'd palmed at the prowler. I got lucky, because the thick volume hit the creature square in the nose, making it hesitate and throwing it a bit off balance. I dove underneath the closest library table, and the creature landed on top of it, instead of on me.
The prowler dug its claws into the wood, ripping it apart like it was made of toothpicks. I crawled out from underneath the collapsing table, scrambled to my feet, and ran toward the open double doors. But the prowler was quicker than I was. With a mighty leap, it flew through the air over my head and landed in front of me, putting itself between me and my escape.
I immediately backed up. The prowler growled and started stalking me again, enjoying the game of big, big cat, little, little mouse.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jasmine turn away from Morgan to stare at me.
“You won't get away from it again,” she said. “This one isn't an illusion, and this time, the Spartan's not around to save you.”
“That's where you're wrong,” another voice called out.
Logan Quinn stood in the doorway of the library. He still wore his tuxedo, but he'd stopped to pick up two other accessories along the way—a shield and a spear. The silver shield was strapped to his left arm, while he held the spear in his free hand. Somehow, he looked right with them, like they belonged to him and him alone. I thought about what Daphne had said about why the other kids were here. Logan knew his destiny as a Spartan, as a warrior. I just hoped that I wouldn't be the death of him tonight.
The prowler hissed again as soon as it saw Logan, recognizing him as the real threat. The Spartan tightened his grip on his shield, and a sort of cold calm filled his face. He wasn't going to run away from the prowler—he was going to fight it to the death just like he had before. Only this time, the creature wasn't an illusion. Somehow, I knew that made it even bigger, stronger, and deadlier than before.
After a moment, Logan's icy eyes flicked to me. “Gwen, go! Get help—”
That was all Logan got out before the prowler threw itself at him.
Instead of doing as he asked, I picked up the book that I'd thrown at the prowler before and ran back to the middle of the library, where Jasmine still stood over Morgan, the dagger glinting in her hand. While I would have loved nothing more than to run away, find Professor Metis, and tell her every twisted thing that was going on, I knew that if I did, Jasmine would kill Morgan and finish whatever bizarre ritual she'd started. My mom had never run from a fight when she'd been a detective, and I wasn't going to now.
Jasmine saw me coming and stepped away from Morgan, pointing her dagger in my direction. Not good. But I was too committed to back down now. For all I knew, the second I turned my back Jasmine would throw the dagger and kill me that way. She could do it. She was a warrior, too, and had been training to be one for years.
“You should have just let it go, Gypsy,” Jasmine murmured, stepping up to meet me. “You should have just not paid any attention to my death the way that the others did.”
I skidded to a stop in front of her. “Tell me one thing: Why didn't you kill me that night in the library when you had the chance? The night you hit me on the head, I assume with that stupid dagger you're holding, and knocked me out. Why didn't you just slit my throat then?”
She shrugged. “Because you were nobody. I didn't even know your name. You didn't have any real power, nothing that I could take or use, so what was the point in killing you?”
My fingers tightened around the book, and for a moment I thought about Paige Forrest. She hadn't had any power either. According to my mom, Paige's stepdad had told her that if she didn't do what he said, if she didn't let him touch her, then he'd go down the hall to her little sister's room. That's why Paige hadn't told anyone what was going on. So she had done the only thing that she could—she'd given me her hairbrush to touch.
Because she knew what I could do. Paige knew that I had power, that I had magic, even if she didn't understand it. Even if I didn't understand it.
“I'm not a nobody.” I ground out the words.
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You're still going to die.”
She threw herself at me. The dagger slashed through the air with an evil hiss that matched the prowler's. Acting on pure instinct, I brought up the book, putting it between me and the dagger. The weapon sank into the pages, its sharp tip piercing all the way through to the other side—and only stopping an inch away from my eye. Yeah, I totally screamed at that.
Jasmine let out a loud curse and tried to pull the dagger back out of the book, but I tightened my grip and twisted it away from her, ripping the hilt of the weapon out of her hands. Then, I threw the book with the dagger still embedded in it as far as I could. It hit the slick marble floor and rolled across it, turning end over end, before finally stopping on the other side of the library underneath one of the tables.
“Bitch,” Jasmine said. “That was my favorite dagger.”
She had a favorite dagger? Seriously? And she thought that I was a freak.
Before I could move away from Jasmine, she slapped me across the face, then punched me in the stomach, using her Valkyrie strength to her full advantage. The pain of her blows was bad enough, but her skin touched mine, and I felt all of her pent-up rage and anger at Morgan, Samson, and everyone else at school who'd ignored her fake death. It burned through me like acid. I fell to my knees, gasping for air and trying not to vomit.
Jasmine stared down at me, shook her head, and walked back toward Morgan, who was still lying on the table and staring up at the ceiling at nothing in particular.
The Bowl of Tears rested on Morgan's chest, and the blood inside it began to bubble up. Even across the library, I could feel some sort of power emanating from it. If I'd thought the Bowl had been evil before, it radiated the ugliest sort of black hate now.
Jasmine reached down and pulled a long sword out from underneath the table. Where the hell had that come from? Jasmine turned and headed back in my direction, slicing the sword through the air like she just couldn't wait to cut into me with it.
I was dimly aware of Logan fighting the prowler in the back of the library near the doorway. The prowler's relentless hisses filled the room, as did the clang of its claws on Logan's shield as it tried to rip away the barrier so it could tear into the Spartan once and for all. I even thought that I heard Logan call out my name, telling me to turn around and run, that Jasmine would cut me to pieces with the sword. I rolled my eyes. Like I didn't already know that. I might suck at gym class, but I wasn't completely
stupid.
So I got to my feet, turned around, and ran toward the nearest door—the side door I'd used to slip into the library. But just before I reached it, the door slammed shut. Behind me, Jasmine laughed.
“Stupid Gypsy. Everything in here is under my control, including the doors. You can't get out, so why don't you just be a good girl and come here so I can kill you?”
I didn't know what kind of Valkyrie magic she was using, whether it was just an illusion or if the door was really and truly shut. So I ran toward the next door set into the wall. It too slammed shut just before I reached it. I wrapped my hand around the doorknob and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Whatever magic Jasmine had, she'd sealed us all in the library with her. Or at least made us all think that she had. Which was really the same thing as actually doing it. At least, I thought that it was. This illusion stuff made my head hurt.
Since the doors weren't working, I scurried over to one of the windows. It was locked as well, and it wouldn't budge. Outside on the quad, a flash of movement caught my eye, and I spotted Daphne and Carson walking hand in hand, making the same slow circle around the quad that I'd started to earlier tonight.
“Daphne! Carson!”
I yelled, screamed, and pounded on the glass, but they didn't hear me. They were too caught up in each other for that. I'd have to make them hear me. Frantic now, I looked around. A study table was tucked in next to the window, along with a wooden chair. I picked up the chair and slammed it into the window.
The glass erupted with a roar.
Whatever magic Jasmine had, she hadn't thought to use it to completely secure the windows, only the doors. So the chair shattered several panes of glass, leaving behind a jagged hole just above my head. I would have hoisted myself up and crawled out it, if there hadn't been a couple of iron bars in the way. So I stood on my tiptoes and got as close to the glinting shards as I dared.
“Daphne!” I screamed as loud as I could. “In here!”
My voice echoed through the quad. Daphne and Carson froze, and their heads snapped in this direction.
I waved at them, but I couldn't tell if they saw me or not. Something whistled behind me, and I ducked. Jasmine's sword slammed into the iron bars, throwing red sparks everywhere. I turned to stare at her. Jasmine had a wild look to her now. Her blond hair streamed down her face, and her once-blue eyes glowed that same eerie red that the prowler's did.
Creepy.
“Stand still so I can chop off your head,” she muttered.
Jasmine swung the sword at me again, and I ducked back out of the way. Again and again, she came at me, swinging the blade, but every time I managed to avoid it. Maybe some of the gym class training had sunk in after all, because I couldn't believe that I was still alive.
On her next pass, Jasmine's sword slammed into one of the bookcases and got stuck in the thick wood. Cursing, she wrapped her hands around the hilt and tried to pull it out. Since she wasn't focused on me, I ran around behind the bookshelf and rammed my shoulder into it as hard as I could.
“C'mon,” I muttered, and pushed again and again, finally managing to rock it back and forth. “C'mon! C'mon!”
I gave it a final, vicious shove. With a loud, unhappy creak, the bookshelf tipped over. A second later, it landed on top of the Valkyrie, burying her under hundreds of books.
For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own raspy, panicked breathing and the thumping rush of blood in my ears. Then, Jasmine let out another evil laugh.
“You forgot that I'm a Valkyrie, Gypsy,” she said. “I'm strong, much stronger than you are. This will only slow me down. It won't stop me from killing you. Nothing can do that now.”
The heavy case began to shift back and forth, as Jasmine wiggled her way out from under it and the mountain of books I'd buried her in. I backed up, wondering what I could do now to stop her. There was nowhere to run, not really, not since I couldn't get out of the library, and it was only a matter of time before Jasmine wormed free.
I didn't know what was going on with Logan and the prowler, but I could still hear the creature yowling, which meant it wasn't dead yet. Even if Logan could kill it without dying himself, I wondered if he could defeat Jasmine, too, because she'd had the same warrior training that he'd had and if the prowler injured him, he'd be at a serious disadvantage.
I bit my lip and looked around, trying to stay calm, trying to think what my mom would do in this situation. Okay, so maybe my mom had never gone up against a crazed Valkyrie who wanted to sacrifice her slutty best friend to an evil god, but she had faced plenty of bad guys while she'd been a detective. I remembered watching her come home sometimes, take her gun off her belt, and—
My eyes narrowed. Of course. I needed a weapon.
Not that I knew how to really
use
a weapon of any sort, but it was better than running away from Jasmine or, worse, letting her hack me into little pieces with her sword.
My bare feet seemed to move of their own accord, and I raced back into the stacks. I didn't even really think about where I was going until I skidded to a halt in front of the glass case.
The Case—the one with the strange sword in it.
I fumbled with the clasp, hoping that it wouldn't be locked or magically sealed. To my surprise, it opened immediately and I didn't get any unwanted vibes off it. I threw back the top of The Case, reached for the sword—and stopped. I didn't know exactly what would happen if I picked it up. What kind of flashes or vibes that I might get off it. But I knew that it would be something—something
big.
Something that would change my life forever.
Behind me, there was an enormous roar, and Jasmine's laughter filled the library once more. She'd gotten free of the bookcase. If I didn't pick up the sword, the rest of my life was going to be short. Very, very short.
“Gypsy,” Jasmine hissed, her voice echoing over to me. “I'm going to enjoy killing you.”
Quick footsteps sounded, running in my direction. Time was up, so I reached down into The Case and grabbed the sword.

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