Sweet Legacy
Page 39No one says a word for several minutes.
“They will return,” Sthenno warns, “as soon as they recalculate our position.”
A sharp pain pierces the dull ache in my brain.
The bookshop goes blurry around me as my mind drifts into a vision.
Apollo stands before a full-length mirror in his all-white chamber. As I watch, his reflection in the glass fades, and instead the mirror reveals the interior of a bookshop—the interior of this bookshop, with all of us inside.
“You cannot hide,” he says. “I thought I made that clear.”
The vision ends, and I gasp.
“They already have.” I look around at my companions, at the very image I just saw in the mirror. “Apollo knows we’re here.”
Sthenno huffs out a tight breath.
“It’s uncanny,” Euryale says, tears glistening in her soft gray eyes.
“What?” I ask. I glance at Gretchen and Thane. “What?”
Euryale beams. “You are exactly like her.”
“Exactly like who?”
Now that I did not expect. They have just compared me to a legendary woman, a woman whose legacy has been distorted by myth and history, a maiden turned monster by those who would end our line. What am I supposed to say?
That I carry her power, her gift, is an honor and a burden. I am no stranger to pressure—it’s almost as if Mother was grooming me for this all these years. I have to believe I can live up to the responsibility.
“It should not be surprising,” Euryale says. “You have her power, her gift. And it manifests itself in but one way.”
They both stare at me for a long time. I can imagine what they’re feeling—pain over the long-ago loss of their sister, pride to see her power within me, and probably a slew of other emotions that I couldn’t even begin to put into words.
It’s touching, and I hate to interrupt the moment we’re having, but—
“We need to go,” Gretchen says, doing the interrupting for me.
“Yes,” Euryale says. “Let us get to the safe house before Apollo has time to redirect his soldiers.”
I am a bit overwhelmed by the situation—by the knowledge that a Greek god is reading my mind and tracking me through our mental connection, that this connection might be having an adverse effect on my brain, that I have visions in the same way as my ancient ancestor. If I thought therapy would help, I might sign myself up for a few sessions.
But what therapist would ever believe a word of this?
Gretchen is at my side as we walk out of the bookshop.
Thane walks silently on my other side.
Both of them are strong and silent, determined to protect me. Between them, I feel completely safe. Neither of them will let anything happen to me. If only their protection didn’t put them in danger.
GRACE
You should go home,” I tell Milo after the twelfth Cassandra Gregory in the city turns out to be a young stay-at-home mom with twin two-year-olds.
“Why?” Milo asks, opening the passenger door to his car. “It’s just getting fun.”
He’s being generous. After I printed out the directory results for every woman in the city with our mother’s name, Milo and I spent hours canvassing last night and more this morning. Since I couldn’t just go home, I spent half the night online in a twenty-four-hour internet cafe, trying to narrow down our list of targets, with no success. None of these women have online social profiles. After catching a couple hours of sleep in the safe house, I met Milo at a coffee shop, and we started again. He doesn’t need to be here. He’s wasting his time.
I stand in the open space between the door, the car, and Milo. “This is pointless. There are three dozen Cassandra Gregorys in the city. She might not even be here anymore.”
She might not even be alive anymore.
Maybe our friends in the abyss got the message wrong. Maybe they aren’t trying to kill our mother—maybe she’s already gone.
I don’t say that last part out loud, but I’ve been thinking it, a lot. Sthenno said they’d lost contact with our mother a long time ago, and the last mention of her in our adoption file was when she tried to make contact four years ago. A lot can happen in four years.
Heck, a lot can happen in four days.
“It doesn’t hurt to keep looking,” Milo says.
“You’ve already spent all of last night and this morning.” I stare at my shoes. This isn’t fair to him. “I can keep searching on my own.”
“You need my car.”
“Grace.” His tone is so serious that I look up. “Did you ever think I might like having an excuse to spend more time with you?”
My cheeks burn, and I can’t keep the smile off my face.
His gaze drops to my lips. I don’t wait for him to lean in. Heart racing, I curve my hands around his neck and lift my face to his.
When I drop back onto my heels, I’m in a daze.
“Now,” he says with a lazy smile, “if you’re done trying to get rid of me?”
“For now,” I tease.
“Then where’s the next Cassandra Gregory on the list?”
I pull out the printout of search results and scan past all the ones we’ve already crossed off. I draw a line through number twelve before reading the next entry to Milo.
“That’s in the Richmond,” he says as he walks around the front of the car. “We’ll be there in five.”