Dark Frost

You'd better finish me now, Gypsy. Or I'll get free one day, and I'll go kill that doddering old grandmother you love so much.

Grandma Frost, I thought, remembering Preston's awful, awful promise to me.

Somehow I knew that's where they were headed. Preston wouldn't miss a chance to hurt me by killing my grandma-he just wouldn't. And Grandma had no idea he was coming or the horrible danger she was in.

Terror twisted my heart at the thought, but I forced myself to push past the fear and think. I didn't know how the Reaper girl had gotten past all the security measures to get down to the prison in the first place, but if she'd been smart enough to do that, then she had to have thought out Preston's escape as well. She'd get him off campus as quickly as she could, and since the Reapers were leaving the academy grounds, I doubted the sphinxes would try to stop them. And then-and then what?

A car, I thought. She'd have a car waiting outside the academy walls to whisk Preston away, but the Reaper wouldn't immediately go into hiding. No, he'd stop by Grandma Frost's house first. I knew he would, which meant that I needed a car, too, if I had any chance of saving her.

I sucked in another cold breath and started to run.

I pulled my cell phone out of my jeans pocket as I ran. Since I couldn't text, run, and hold on to Vic all at the same time, I settled for hitting the numbers in my speed dial. First, I called my Grandma Frost.

"Pick up," I panted as I ran. "Please, please pick up."

But she didn't.

The terror rose up in my throat, choking me, but I forced it down. The Reapers couldn't have gotten to her house yet, so Grandma must be doing a psychic reading for one of her clients. She never answered the phone then. The answering machine clicked on, and I left her a garbled, frantic message telling her about the Reaper girl's freeing Preston and asking her to call me the second she got this message. I would have kept talking, but the machine clicked, cutting me off.

Cursing, I went to the next number on my list, which was Daphne. But apparently, the Valkyrie was still mad at me and screening her calls because she didn't answer. I tried Logan next, but the Spartan didn't answer, either.

Why did everyone have to pick today to be pissed at me?

So I went to the fourth person on my list. For once, for once, someone decided to answer his freaking phone.

"Hey, Gypsy," Oliver's smooth voice filled my ear. "What's going on?"

"I need you to get your car and meet me down by the main academy gate. Right now!"

"Gwen?" Oliver's voice sharpened as he heard the panic in my tone. "What's going on?"

"Preston just busted out of the academy prison," I said in between panting breaths. "I think he's headed to my Grandma Frost's house to kill her. I need you to drive me down there, so meet me at the front gate as soon as you can. And bring some weapons. We'll need them."

"Gwen-"

I hung up before Oliver could say anything else. I knew the Spartan would help me. That's what friends did for each other.

I kept running, trying Grandma Frost, Daphne, and Logan again and again-but nobody answered me. I cursed some more. What good were cell phones if nobody picked them up? Finally, just as I was running on fumes, I reached Styx Hall. It took me far longer than I would have liked to yank my student ID card out of my jeans pocket, scan it through the machine, open the door, and sprint up the three flights of stairs to my room, but there was something else I had to do before I met Oliver, another way I could maybe save my grandma.

"Nott!" I said, barging into my dorm room. "Nott, I need you!"

The Fenrir wolf had been napping in her nest of blankets, but she sprang to her feet at the sound of my frantic voice.

"What are you doing, Gwen?" Vic said. "You're wasting time."

"Shut up, Vic," I said, laying the sword down on the bed and shoving my cell phone into my jeans pocket. "I need to concentrate."

While I'd been sprinting across campus, it had occurred to me that the wolf could run much faster than I could-much, much faster. I was sure that Oliver was racing toward his car right now, but it would still take him time to get it and more time still for us to drive down the mountain.

It was time Grandma Frost just didn't have.

I dropped down beside the wolf, wondering if my crazy plan was going to work. Maybe Vic was right and I was just wasting time. But I had to try-I had to.

Metis had told me that I could do more with my Gypsy gift than just touch stuff and see things-that I could make other people see and feel things, too. I just hoped she was right.

Still sucking down big gulps of air, I carefully put my hands on either side of Nott's massive head and looked into her dull eyes-and then I reached for all the memories I had of my Grandma Frost. All the kindness and caring she'd shown me over the years, all the big and small ways she'd cared for me, especially after my mom had been killed, all the love I felt whenever I held her hand.

I concentrated on those memories, pulling them up in my mind, and then I sort of ... shoved them at Nott. Instead of touching something and letting the images fill my mind, I did the opposite-I took the memories I already had and consciously pushed them out in another direction, into another mind.

Somehow it worked.

The wolf flinched, and I could feel her confusion at the jumble of memories and thoughts that weren't her own crowding into her brain. After a few seconds, she relaxed when she realized I wasn't going to hurt her, that the thoughts weren't going to hurt her. Then, I focused on my grandma's house and pushed that image into the wolf's mind as well.

"I need you to go to my grandma's house and protect her until I get there," I said. "Please. Can you do that? Do you even understand me?"

Nott stared at me a second longer. Then, she leaned forward, licked my cheek with her tongue, and headed for the door.

"I'll take that as a yes," I said, grabbing Vic off the bed and scrambling after her.

I led Nott down the stairs and through the dorm, not caring who saw me or what they thought about it. For once, I got lucky, and we didn't run into any other students. I opened the back door of the dorm, and the wolf raced outside. In a moment, she'd disappeared from view.

I sucked in another breath and started my own sprint, racing down to the main gate. I didn't even spare the sphinxes a glance as I slipped through the iron bars to the other side. Oliver had been quicker than me, because the Spartan was already parked across the street in his black Cadillac Escalade.

I ran over to the SUV, yanked open the door, and threw myself into the passenger's seat.

"Gwen?" Oliver said, putting the car into gear. "Are you sure about this?"

"No," I said. "But I can't take a chance with my grandma's life. Now, drive."

Oliver peeled away from the curb without another word. I laid Vic across my lap, then pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket. Once again, I tried Grandma Frost's number. Once again, she didn't answer. My red-hot panic slowly melted into cold, sinking fear. I had to get to her before Preston and the Reaper girl did. I couldn't lose my grandma like I had my mom. I just couldn't.

"I called Logan and Kenzie to come and help," Oliver said, zipping down the mountain as fast as he could. "But they didn't answer me."

My heart sank a little lower in my chest. I bit my lip and nodded, resisting the urge to scream at Oliver to drive faster. Logan and Kenzie didn't matter right now. If we didn't get to the house before Preston and the Reaper girl did, my grandma was as good as dead.

It seemed to take forever for Oliver to zoom down the mountain, although he made better time than the bus ever did. He turned onto the street that fronted my grandma's house and parked outside. I was out of the SUV before the wheels stopped rolling. Oliver cut off the engine, opened his own door, and raced after me.

What I saw on the porch made my blood run cold. The PSYCHIC READINGS HERE sign beside the front door barely clung to the side of the house, like someone had taken a crowbar and tried to pry it off. Even worse was the fact that the door had been kicked in, the frame splintered in at least three places.

"Gwen! Stop!" Oliver hissed, grabbing the back of my hoodie before I could sprint into the house. "You don't know who or what is in there."

Even though I wanted nothing more than to race inside, I made myself stop. The Spartan was right. My rushing into the house blind could make a bad situation worse.

So I tightened my grip on Vic and brought the sword up into an attack position. Beside me, Oliver slapped a bolt into the crossbow he'd brought along. The Spartan nodded at me, telling me to take the lead and that he had my back. Together, we stepped into the shadows.

The inside of the house was a disaster. Everything that could be overturned was, from the curio cabinet that displayed Grandma's good china to the blue sofa to the entertainment center that held the TV. Everything was smashed, stomped, and broken, like someone had taken great glee in destroying every single thing he could.

Preston, I thought darkly, and moved on.

Oliver pointed to another splintered door, and I tiptoed over to it and peered inside the room where my grandma gave her psychic readings. The beaded curtains that hung on the windows had been torn down, and the gray silk-covered table had been split into two pieces. My grandma's crystal ball had also been shattered, the splintered shards glistening like teardrops on top of the gauzy cloth.

A cold fist of fear wrapped around my heart and squeezed tight. I turned around and shook my head at Oliver, telling him the room was clear. We tiptoed through the rest of the downstairs, stepping over more smashed furniture, before we finally headed toward the kitchen. My heart pounded at the thought of what we might find in there, and I had such a death grip on Vic that my hands ached.

Something crunched in the kitchen. Oliver and I stopped where we were in the hallway-listening. A series of rustles and scuffles sounded, telling us that someone was moving around in the kitchen. Oliver put a hand on my shoulder, silently asking me if I was okay. I nodded, drew in a breath, and eased forward, peering into the room.

The sight there stunned me.

Grandma Frost stood in the middle of the kitchen, a bloody sword in her hand, Nott sitting off to her right, and a dead Reaper at her feet.

Chapter 17

"Grandma?" I whispered, hurrying forward. "Are you okay?"

Grandma Frost gave me a grim smile. "Well, as much as I can be with a dead Reaper bloodying up my kitchen and an overgrown wolf wanting a treat."

Nott let out a soft whine, apparently agreeing with my grandma. I laid Vic on the kitchen table, then hugged my grandma as hard as I could. Her wrinkled hand smoothed down my hair and brushed across my cheek, and the warmth of her love filled me, driving away the cold, cold fear.

"I'm all right, pumpkin," she whispered. "I'm all right."

Tears of relief slid out of the corners of my eyes. I pulled back and brushed them away.

"What happened?" I asked. "How many Reapers were there? How did you fight them off by yourself?"

"Sit down, and I'll tell you all about it. As for how I fought them off ..." Grandma swung her bloody sword in a vicious arc that even Coach Ajax would have been proud of. "You forgot one thing, pumpkin-I used to be Nike's Champion, too."

Then, she grabbed a dishtowel and started wiping the Reaper's blood off the sword as if it was just another stain to be cleaned up.

Fifteen minutes later, Grandma Frost slid a pan of homemade apple cinnamon rolls out of the oven. The warm smells of melted butter, brown sugar, and sweet cinnamon blasted into the kitchen, making it feel as inviting and cozy as ever-except for the dead body on the floor. Oliver had dragged the Reaper's body over to the far corner, and Grandma had put a gray sheet over it, but we all knew it was there.

Apparently, the body didn't bother Oliver, though.

"These are great," he said, taking a big bite of one of the hot, sticky rolls. "You've been holding out on me, Gwen. If I'd known your grandma made desserts like this, I would have come here ages ago."

Grandma Frost leaned over and patted the Spartan's hand. "You are welcome here anytime, Oliver. Just let me know when you're coming, and I'll make something special for you."

She winked at him. The Spartan grinned and took another bite of his roll.

I picked up my own roll but put it back down on my plate. I didn't have the appetite for it right now. "So what happened with the Reaper?"

Grandma stared at me, her violet eyes dark in her face. "I'd had a bad feeling all day that something was wrong, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. I'd just given my last reading of the afternoon and had walked my client to the front door when I saw a black SUV parked across the street. I looked at it, and I knew there was trouble inside-trouble that was headed my way."

"Then what happened?" Oliver asked, reaching for another cinnamon roll.

"I went to the closet and grabbed my trusty old sword," Grandma said, giving the weapon a fond pat. She'd cleaned the sword and had propped it up in a chair along with Vic, although it was just a regular sword and didn't have a face or talk like he did. "Then I came back here in the kitchen to wait for them. They came in through the front door, tearing up everything they could. I don't think they expected me to fight back, though. The first one there on the floor came in here like it was his kitchen instead of mine. I cut him down pretty quick, but that wasn't the end of them."

"How many more were there?" I asked.

"Two more," she said. "A boy wearing an orange jumpsuit and a girl wearing a black robe and a Reaper mask." ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">