Sweet Venom
Page 74“The same,” I say with a grin. “After you and I fought the serpent-lady at the wharf—”
“Sea dracaena,” Gretchen mutters.
“Right.” I flash a scowl at her. As if that’s helping right now. “Anyway, after you left, then Gretchen’s mentor, Ursula, visited me. Only she’s not just Ursula, she’s really the other immortal Gorgon, Euryale.”
“An immortal Gorgon visited you on the wharf?”
“Yes.” Am I being unclear? I don’t think so. “She autoported to me, thinking I was Gretchen, because she’s been imprisoned somewhere and I guess her autoporting wires got crossed—”
“Grace,” Gretchen interrupts with a snarl. “Can we get back to the part where you discovered your counselor is Sthenno?”
“Oh, right.” I guess it’s better to stay on track. “Anyway, she got away before I could ask her, and I thought maybe, if you want, we could go talk to her together. I could make an appointment for after school or something.”
Gretchen nods and I sigh with relief. We’ve found Ursula’s sister and now maybe we can figure what’s going on and why things are changing. That’s one thing checked off the list of unanswered questions today.
“Great,” Greer says, not sounding thrilled. “Can we get back to my problem here?”
Gretchen scowls. “Of course,” she sneers. “Because this is all about you.”
“Now, Gretchen,” I say, wanting to diffuse the sudden tension.
Gretchen seems stunned that Greer would make that kind of concession. I guess I’m actually a little surprised too. They look at each other—okay, glare—and I feel caught in the middle.
Thankfully, the waitress arrives, breaking the unsisterlike tension.
“You girls ready to order?” she drawls, looking from Greer to me to Gretchen. “Well, aren’t you three adorable? Triplets, huh?”
I smile. “Yes, we—”
“I’ll have salmon nigiri and a bowl of miso soup,” Greer says, cutting off my answer.
“The tempura platter,” Gretchen says. “With extra shrimp.”
The waitress quickly scribbles down their orders and then looks at me.
“Can I just get an avocado roll?” I ask. When the waitress nods and adds it to the order, I say, “Thank you.”
The waitress grabs our menus and leaves, probably eager to escape the tension-filled table. If only I could go with her. No. I’m not going to run away. I’m going to face this and find a way to make them see reason.
“We’re here to talk,” Gretchen says. “Let’s talk. Ask your questions.”
While they have a little stare-down, I drum my fingers on the underside of my chair, feeling powerless. With two such strong personalities, how can I ever make them see how lucky we are to have found each other? We need to find an element of common ground, beyond our shared DNA and monster-hunting destiny, something to show my sisters that we aren’t as different as we seem.
Looking around the table, though, I can’t help but worry that maybe we are. One is a gruff, tough commando chick, who dresses all in black and drab and prefers to fight alone. Another is a pretty, preppy, popular girl, who wears the finest fashions and prefers to keep her social calendar intact.
And then there’s me. What type am I exactly? The eco-conscious computer geek who’d rather be comfortable than fashionable and who is still learning how to stand up for herself. On the surface we don’t have much to bond about.
“Listen,” I begin, “I really think we should—”
“Tell me about the monsters,” Greer says. “Where do they come from?”
“Another realm,” Gretchen replies. “Sealed off from ours.”
Greer asks, “Then how do they get here?”
“Well, there’s this—”
“The seal is cracked,” Gretchen explains.
Speaking of the seal . . . “You know, I read in that Medusa book that we’re supposed to—”
Gretchen shrugs. “Feed on humans. Drain their life force and then either kill or control them.”
“Kill or—” I stutter. Did Gretchen just say control humans? “You never said anything about—”
“But there are others, right?” Greer asks, interrupting me again. “Ones that don’t . . . feed on humans.”
I’m thrilled that they’re talking, but do they really have to keep cutting me off? Letting me finish a sentence would be nice. Now is not the time for that battle, though, so I bite my tongue and listen.
“I don’t know,” Gretchen says with a sigh.
“Really?” I gape.
“Maybe that’s one of the things that’s changing.” She rubs her neck. “There might be beasties coming through that aren’t pure evil.”
That’s news to me. From the start, Gretchen has been very clear. Monsters are bad, end of discussion. Something must have made her question the truth of that conviction.
“Why are we the only ones who see them?”