Sweet Legacy
Page 31“We are strong,” I insist. “We can take whatever you dish out.”
His smile is full of wickedness.
“And we will kill you,” he replies. “You, your sisters, your friends and family . . . one by one, until no one who even remembers the Keys remains.”
My hand strikes out without hesitation. My palm stings, the pain as real as if the slap had occurred in real life, not only in my mind.
And Apollo’s rage is just as tangible.
That’s my girl, the woman’s voice says.
He reaches out to strike me, hard and fast, a blow that I’m sure will leave me bruised and bloody.
Not so fast, wolf god.
I’m gone before his hand can connect with my cheek, pulled back out of the vision, just as violently as I was pulled in.
CHAPTER 13
GRACE
Avoiding the elevator, I run up the stairs to my floor, taking the steps two at a time. I don’t have to look back to know that Milo is keeping up. As I step out into the hall, I can see that the door to my apartment is open—wide open. This can’t be a good sign.
Everything looks normal.
“Are they gone?” I whisper.
“Let me check,” he says. “Stay here.”
I smile. The old Grace would have gladly waited in the hall while the boy went inside to search, but the new Grace has courage and confidence—and fangs.
As Milo moves left, through the dining room and into the kitchen beyond, I scan the living room on my way to the back hall. I duck my head into my bedroom, snatching my phone off the nightstand and slipping it into my pocket, and then check Thane’s room and the bathroom we share. Milo meets me in the hall outside my parents’ room.
He frowns but doesn’t say anything.
Together, we walk into the last room of the apartment.
Empty.
“They’re gone,” I say, defeated.
There is no sign that any kind of violence occurred here—no blood, nothing broken or disturbed. The monsters who were after me are gone. They must have taken Nick with them.
The earlier scene in the apartment plays through my mind. The boss and his goons hadn’t looked too happy with Nick calling the shots. Nick threatened to kill me—and I’d thought he was betraying us. He actually betrayed them. I don’t think they treat traitors like him very well.
“Grace,” Milo says.
I jump at the sound of his gentle voice. I was so lost in thought, I’d forgotten he was here. Turning slowly to face him, I can’t keep the despair off my face.
He lays his hands on my shoulders and leans his head down to look me in the eyes.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
I shake my head, either because I can’t tell him or because I can’t speak at all. I can’t just confess what’s going on. Besides the fact that humans aren’t supposed to know that monsters and mythology are real and running wild on the streets of San Francisco, I don’t want him to know.
I like Milo. I mean, I really like him, and I don’t want to scare him away.
I don’t want him to see me as anything other than an ordinary girl.
So I look away, unable to meet his steady gaze.
“Clearly you’re freaked out,” he says, dropping his hands. “I am, too, after you materialized out of thin air onto my soccer field and then you told your parents the monsters found your house—”
My gaze flies up. I hadn’t even been thinking when I said that on the phone. I’d been totally intent on making sure my parents stayed safe. I hadn’t stopped to realize Milo was listening.
“So why don’t I go grab us a couple of sodas from the fridge,” he continues, as if the world around him were still perfectly normal. “We can sit down at the dining table, and then you can tell me what’s going on.”
My heart races.
As much as I don’t want to, as much as I think it’s a horrible idea, he already knows too much. Right now I have no one else to trust. I have to keep my parents safe, my sisters and my brother are back in the abyss—or, hopefully, by now, on Mount Olympus—and the supernatural boy who came with me to help is now a prisoner of my enemies. Milo is all I have.
As I sit across the dining table from Milo, my courage vanishes.
It seems like such a small thing, only a few words. But when it comes to actually getting them out . . . My mouth goes dry.
Our relationship, whatever it is, is still so new—just as new as the world of myth being part of my life. I remember how hard it was for me to process, and it’s a part of me. How on earth will Milo understand?
“Listen, Grace,” he says, not looking at me. He has his forearms braced on the table, fidgeting with a flyer for an outdoor movie series Mom left out. “We haven’t known each other very long, so I get it if you don’t want to tell me.”
Oh, but that’s not true. I do want to. I hate keeping secrets—I’m terrible at it. I want to tell Milo everything. I’m just afraid of what will happen once I do.
“You should know that I like you a lot,” he says, not looking up from the bright yellow paper.