As annoyed as I was to get called to this emergency meeting without prior notice, now that I’ve seen who Sthenno is, now that I recognize her, I want to know more. It is no coincidence that she is the one who banished monsters from my life, which means that not only has she known about me for years, but she also has the ability to make the monsters disappear. At least from my mind.
If it worked once, perhaps it can again. Perhaps I can wake up one day and think this nightmare is a distant dream.
I’m not about to let her just vanish into the abyss and say, Oops. Guess we’ll catch her next time.
“Then we should open another one,” I say. “There must be a way.”
Gretchen glares harder at me, and I can tell she wants to direct me to the nearest bridge so I can jump off. Then her expression changes into something more thoughtful. She’s considering my suggestion. Good.
“Is that even possible?” Grace asks, echoing her last unanswered question.
“I don’t—” Gretchen shakes her head. “I’m not sure. I’ve never wondered that. I never asked.”
Her focus shifts, her eyes shadow like she’s lost in thought. Lost in doubt. She’s beating herself up for all those questions she never asked Euryale before the Gorgon was taken. Four years of squandered opportunities. I’m not sure how I know that’s what she’s thinking, but I know if I were in her shoes those thoughts would be playing through my mind.
“Did you get a chance to talk to Sthenno this morning?” I ask Grace. “Did you ask her any questions?”
“A few,” Grace says, looking dismayed. “She told me there are factions, two sides in a looming war. One that wants us dead now, another that wants us dead later.”
War? Factions? Dead now and dead later? Oh this nightmare just keeps getting better and better.
“That’s pretty much what Nick said,” Gretchen agrees.
“Nick?” Grace asks suggestively.
Gretchen cuts her a scowl. “It’s not like that.”
I can see the conflicted emotions playing on her face. Positive and negative. Anger and attraction. Maybe it’s not like that, but maybe she wants it to be. Maybe Gretchen has a crush. I hide a smile.
“So, is no one else at all freaked out about this war?” I ask. “That apparently everyone on every side wants us dead? No one’s annoyed by that?”
“Yeah,” Grace says. “I’m a little freaked out. But Ms. West said there are others on our side, working to help us.”
“That’s good to know,” Gretchen says sarcastically.
“Ms. West thinks Euryale was trying to find out who was on each side,” Grace continues, “when she was taken.”
Gretchen winces at the mention of her missing mentor. She’s hurting, I can tell, but she’s trying valiantly not to show it. “I need to question Nick again.”
Partly to save her from facing her emotions right now, and partly for myself because I’m not used to dealing with this kind of pain, I steer the conversation into safe territory.
“Should we meet again after school tomorrow?” I ask. “My schedule is clear after four thirty.”
“Mine too,” Grace says. “Well, mine’s always clear. Should we meet at the safe house?”
“Bad idea.” Gretchen shoves her hands into her back pockets, looking relieved by the change of topic. “I don’t think we should meet at our homes anymore. It increases the chances of a monster or three following us there.”
“They already know where we live,” I argue. “Last night proves that.”
“They knew where I lived, obviously,” Gretchen says, “or they wouldn’t have blown up the place. But I’m hoping the two beasties who showed up at your places just trailed you two home from the sushi place. We need to be hyperaware of being followed from now on.”
She hopes they just followed us? I cross my arms over my chest. Well, I hope she’s right.
“So where should we meet?” Grace asks. “In public?”
“That’s good for talking,” Gretchen replies, shaking her head. “But we need to train too.”
I don’t miss the subtext. Gretchen is already at the peak of her game, she’s got monster butt kicking down to a science. It’s Grace and I who need to train. I suppose I can’t argue with that. And if one of those creatures shows up at my home again, I want to be able to do something about it.
“I know the perfect place,” I say. “My school.”
Since I have such extensive responsibilities at Immaculate Heart—and perhaps because my parents donated the money so the board could buy the lot next door for future expansion—I have keys to the building. Freedom and access to every room in the place. Yet another benefit of being a responsible student at a small private school.
I give both sisters the address, and they agree to come by after my student council meeting. The halls will be empty and we will have exclusive use of the gymnasium. It’s not as well equipped as the training room in Gretchen’s loft—and the closest thing to an arsenal is the collection of sports gear—but it will do as a temporary space.
As we walk our separate ways—Grace to the nearest bus stop, Gretchen to the public parking garage three blocks away, and me to Dad’s building—I can’t help feeling that the two halves of my life, my two worlds, are about to collide in an irreversible way.