Sweet Shadows

  “Can I crash here?” Gretchen asks. “I’m exhausted, but I want to be around when he comes to.”

  “Of course,” I say automatically, shifting into hostess mode. “Let me get you some bedding.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she says. “I’ll be fine with that blanket on the couch.”

  I want to argue—every etiquette-ingrained bone in my body screams, telling me to make her a comfortable bed—but frankly I don’t have the energy. I feel drained. I don’t know if it’s that I’m still exhausted from holding the pendant or the act of opening the portal or the weird dizziness I’ve been having ever since, but I feel like I’ve been awake for a week.

  “Actually,” I say, “I think I could use a nap as well.”

  “Can I stick around? I don’t feel like going home right now,” Grace says.

  She doesn’t say as much, but I think she wants to give Thane some time to process her news.

  “Of course,” I say. “Make yourself at home.”

  “Can I use your computer?” she asks. “I have some research I want to do.”

  “Research?”

  She gives me a meaningful look.

  “Oh, research.” As in tracking down our biological mother. “You can use the laptop in my room. I’ll show you on my way to a long, steaming-hot bath.”

  “Great,” Gretchen says as she drops onto the couch. Balling the blanket up like a pillow, she stretches out and closes her eyes. “Catch you later.”

  The little monkey creature curls up at her feet and follows her into slumber land. Long-lost triplet asleep on the couch, mythological monkey monster right there with her, and descendant of a goddess unconscious and tied to a chair. Clearly, the amount of normalcy in my life is severely limited at the moment.

  I lead Grace up the basement stairs, through the house, and up the two flights to my room. She remains unusually quiet the entire way.

  “There’s my laptop,” I say, pointing to the open computer sitting on my desk. “The password is greerthegreat, all one word, lowercase.”

  “Thanks,” she replies quietly.

  I can tell she has something on her mind, so I take my time gathering my clothes for after my bath. I’m just folding my cashmere lounge pants onto the pile with my silk camisole when she says, “I’m so glad she’s home.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m glad we didn’t have to go into that place,” she continues. “Does that make me a coward?”

  “No,” I say, setting my clothes on the bed and crossing to her side. “That makes you brave. Because you were scared and willing to go in there anyway.”

  She smiles. “I guess so.”

  “And you’re not alone.” When she looks up I smile. “I was terrified too.”

  Her shoulders relax and I feel like I’ve done a good deed. I made her feel better, and that—I’m surprised to admit—makes me feel better. Maybe I’m getting the hang of this sister thing after all.

  As Grace takes a seat at my desk, I grab my clothes and retreat to the bathroom. Steam billows through the room as hot water fills the pristine claw-foot tub. Moments later, I’m sinking into heaven, surrounded by the scent of jasmine bubble bath.

  My eyes are already closed when the dizziness hits. I smile when an image of the Immaculate Heart gym, transformed into a dreamy paradise for the alumnae tea, drifts through my mind. I’ll take a vision like that any day. And tomorrow I will make it a reality.

  CHAPTER 27

  GRETCHEN

  Moaning. I wake to the sound of moaning, and for a few groggy moments, I think I’m back in the abyss. That entire place moaned.

  But the surface beneath me is soft, padded, not rock-hard stone. The air is cool but not cold. The smell is tolerable. Nothing like the abyss. And my stomach isn’t trying to gnaw its way out of my body.

  Dragging my eyes open, I see the smooth white expanse of a ceiling, not green glow against shiny black rock.

  Definitely not the abyss.

  I roll upright and remember where I am—Greer’s basement—and why.

  Halfway through the portal, Nick started trying to explain what happened. Spewing garbage. How I was misinterpreting the situation and he was really on my side and if I would just listen to him—

  I turned around and punched him above the left ear. He slumped forward against me, and by the time we emerged in this realm, I had his hands zip tied.

  In the chair at the center of the room, Nick’s head is lolling back and forth, like he’s struggling to regain consciousness. I need to establish my advantage quickly. Scanning the room to memorize the objects and their locations, I reach up and flick off the table lamp next to the couch. The room plunges into blackness. Darker, even, than the abyss, because my eyes are light blind.

  “What happen?” Sillus asks.

  “Ssssh.” I forgot about the silly monkey. How had I missed him in the scan? He must be curled up in hiding somewhere. “Stay where you are. And stay quiet.” He doesn’t respond, so I assume he’s taking my order seriously.

  The couch squeaks as I push to my feet. Nick’s moaning stops. I stealth-walk across the carpet, careful not to let my heels thud against the floor.

  “Gretchen?” Nick’s voice sounds rough and raspy.

  I should have gagged him.

  By now I’m standing over him, looming above him from behind. My eyes are adjusting to the faint glow of light seeping in beneath the door and I can see him try to twist in his chair.

  The zip ties keep him in place.

  “Gretchen, come on,” he says, yanking at his binds. “I know you’re here.”

  He struggles a little more and then must realize the futility of his attempts. He stills and, I think, sniffs the air. He turns his head to the side and I can almost feel his dark eyes rake over me.

  “I can smell you,” he says.

  I lift my foot and kick the back of his chair, sending him thudding face-first into the floor. Unfortunately Greer’s parents splurged on extraplush carpet. That probably hardly hurt him at all. The weight of the chair holds him down, but I rest my foot against the seat anyway.

  “Let me explain,” he says, his voice muffled against the carpet.

  “Explain what? How you tricked me?” I shove my weight into the chair. “How you lied to me? Made me trust you? When, all the while, you were getting ready to betray me? To kill me and my sisters?” I shove the chair again, harder, and am satisfied when he grunts in pain. “Yes, please, explain that to me.”

  As if he could say anything—anything—to justify what he did.

  “I’m a mole.”

  I jerk back. My foot falls to the floor.

  “What?”

  “A mole,” he says. “Gretchen, I’m a double agent.”

  I reach down, wrap a hand over the back of the chair, and pull it—and Nick—upright. The chair is still rocking to a standstill when I walk over to the door and throw the light switch, flooding the room with bright light.

  When I turn back around, Nick is watching me. There’s a red spot on his forehead that I’m sure is going to turn into a nasty bruise. Good. It’ll go with the one darkening on his temple.

  “Tell me,” I say, crossing my arms and leaning back against the door. “Tell me everything.”

  He nods, his dark-blue eyes serious.

  “You remember I told you about the factions,” he begins, “about the two groups waging a war for control of the door? For control of the Key Generation?” I just stare at him. Of course I remember. “Well, there is a third faction. A group that wants neither of those things.”

  “Sthenno told us about them,” I say. “Before your friends kidnapped her.”

  “They aren’t my friends,” he says, snarling. “That third side, the one that wants a return to balance. That’s the side I’m on. We want the door opened and the guardians in place.” He takes a deep breath and sighs. “We want the world back as it was meant to be.”

  “Who?” I demand. “Besides you and the Gorgon
s, who’s on that side?”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t identify everyone involved. I honestly don’t know. I’ve been undercover for a long time.”

  “Wrong answer.” I start for him.

  “But,” he says, giving me a pointed look, “I can tell you what I know.”

  I return his pointed look.

  “Euryale and Sthenno are the leaders.”

  “Welcome to yesterday’s news,” I say. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “There are at least three Olympians, maybe four, on your side.” He shakes his head. “On our side.”

  “Name them.”

  “I—” He starts to refuse but then changes tacks. “Hermes is the only one I know for certain. I think Demeter is another one. Maybe Aphrodite, but the gods are so good at falsities and double-crosses, I can’t be sure.”

  “Sounds like someone I know,” I mutter.

  He ignores that. “Only the Gorgons know for certain.”

  “Well we can’t ask them now, can we?”

  It makes sense, though. With opposing sides wanting me and my sisters dead—either before or after we break the seal—Ursula and Sthenno knew we would need real power at our backs. That’s reassuring, at least. Especially after what I saw in the abyss, the numbers on the monster side.

  “So they sent you?” I ask. “The Gorgons asked you to go undercover in the monster world?”

  “Not directly, no,” he says. His eyes shutter. “I received my orders from Hermes, and I am acting on their behalf.”

  “What was your mission, exactly?”

  “To infiltrate the monster faction. To become a trusted member of their organization, to learn sensitive information about the Nychtian Army I could then relay to my contact.”

  “And how does befriending me get you that information?”

  “It doesn’t.” His head droops a little. “I was too good at my job. The monster faction asked me to go undercover as well. After Euryale was taken, they sent me up here to keep tabs on you.”

  “You knew?” I push away from the door, intent on shoving his face back into the floor. “All this time you knew they had Ursula, and you didn’t tell me?”

  My hands are on his shoulder, ready to drag him to the ground, but the pained look in his eyes stops me.

  “It’s … complicated. There is so much riding on my success. How could I tell you without blowing my cover?” He shakes his head. “I wanted to tell you, to reassure you or help you or even fight by your side. I believe in your destiny,” he says, “more than anything else. As much pressure as you feel to live up to your legacy, I feel just as much to make sure you can. I couldn’t risk losing what advantage I’d gained.”

  I don’t want to believe him, but I can’t ignore the sincerity in his voice. “What’s changed?” He shakes his head. “Why are you telling me now?” I ask. “Aren’t you still afraid?”

  “It’s too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They discovered my true allegiance,” he says. “My cover is blown. If you had burst into the Den a few seconds later than you did, I’d be dead.”

  I run through the scene in my mind. It all happened so quickly. I slow it down and try to play through the moments.

  I see Nick, sitting on the chair facing the desk, drinking iced tea. The boss leaning back in his chair. He’s holding something in his lap. I didn’t pay attention at the time—I was a little too busy trying to figure a way out of the situation—but now I see it clearly.

  He had his flipper curled around a nasty-looking dagger.

  He could have been about to slice Nick’s throat. Or he could just as easily have been showing off his favorite blade.

  “How can I believe you?” I ask. “You’ve been lying to me from the start. How can I trust you?”

  Again.

  That bothers me more than anything else. I let my guard down, let him in, let him closer to me and my sisters. How can I trust my own judgment again?

  And, maybe the most important question, why do I want to?

  “I’ll earn it back, Gretchen,” he says. “I’ll earn your trust back.”

  “How?”

  “In whatever way I can.”

  I study his handsome face. His short, wavy blond hair. The steady set of his jaw. The unwavering look in his midnight-blue eyes.

  I want to believe him.

  But I’ve been burned before. And not just by Nick. I always wanted to believe Phil when he swore he’d never drink again. Every time. Year after year. Twelve of them. Twelve long years of taking his anger out on me and Barb. Twelve years of convincing myself it would get better. It never did.

  How can I trust this boy who has, admittedly, lied to me from start to finish? Even if he has a good reason for the deception, it’s still a betrayal. It was still lies.

  “I—”

  “I get it,” he says, stopping me before I voice my doubts. “I’ll work for it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  I nod. I’m still angry and confused, but I appreciate that he’s giving me time.

  “And the first thing I can do,” he says, “is help you get the Gorgons back.”

  CHAPTER 28

  GRACE

  Hi girls, I—What happened?”

  When I return to Greer’s basement, Nick is conscious but still tied to the chair, and Gretchen and Greer are facing off. They both have their arms crossed over their chests and are standing about ten feet apart with matching angry looks on their identical faces.

  “I have been planning this for months,” Greer says.

  “Who cares?” Gretchen retorts. “It’s a stupid tea.”

  “It is not stupid. It’s a tradition.”

  “And this is your destiny.”

  “Destiny has waited this long,” Greer sneers. “It can wait one more day.”

  Gretchen growls and lunges for her. I dash forward, putting myself between my sisters. Putting myself in harm’s way, if the stormy look on Gretchen’s face is any clue, but better I get a little hurt than Greer ends up strangled on the floor.

  I’ve spent the last four hours straight staring at Greer’s laptop—getting nowhere on a current address for our biological mother—so my vision is swimming a little. And my patience is a little thin.

  “What’s going on?” I shout.

  Gretchen looks at me like she’s just noticing that I’m here.

  “What’s going on?” she echoes. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. The Ice Queen is freezing full force.”

  I roll my eyes—mentally, so I don’t set Gretchen off on me. She and Greer have had personality conflicts from day one, so this isn’t really surprising.

  “Yeah, well, I’d rather be an Ice Queen than a thug any day,” Greer snaps back.

  “What’s. Going. On?” I say, louder and more specifically.

  With my sisters fuming at each other over my shoulder, I look at Nick.

  He shrugs. “Gretchen wants to go after the Gorgons. Greer wants to go to tea.”

  “Go after the Gorgons?” I ask. “Really? We know where they are? We know how to rescue them?”

  “Yes,” Gretchen snarls. “But apparently we have to wait until after tea.”

  “I told you I have responsibilities,” Greer says, her voice cracking, full of uncharacteristic emotion. “I cannot just abandon them.”

  No wonder Gretchen is frustrated. If she’s learned how to get Euryale back, she’s eager to do that as soon as possible. I’m eager too. I don’t have the close relationship with Sthenno that Gretchen has with Euryale, but I want to rescue her.

  “Greer,” I say, “I think this is a little more important than—”

  The look in Greer’s silver eyes stops me cold. I’ve never seen this look on her face. I never thought I would. She looks … desperate.

  It’s like the image she works so hard to present to the world is shattered.

  “Please,” she says. “I need this.”

  “No,” Gretchen barks. “It
’s ridiculous.”

  “Gretchen,” I say, feeling torn between my sisters.

  Before I can say more, Greer interrupts.

  “I promise,” she says. “Give me this one day, this one event—” She squeezes her eyes shut like she’s trying to hold back tears. “Then I will commit myself without reservation. I just—” She pauses again and opens her eyes. “I need this one last piece of my normal life. Please.”

  Behind me, I sense Gretchen softening.

  As much as we want to go after the Gorgons right now, when Greer agreed to join us, to embrace her destiny and ours, we promised to try to work around her regular life when we could. She’s only asking for a day. Hopefully that won’t make a huge difference to the rescue, and it will keep Greer in the right mind-set. Going in with her angry and resentful can’t be a good thing.

  “We can wait a day,” I say to Gretchen. “Can’t we?”

  Behind me, Gretchen grumbles. She may not like the situation, but she understands.

  “Fine,” she snaps, covering her sympathy with attitude. “But as soon as your tea party is over, we go in. Agreed?”

  Greer nods. “Agreed.”

  She reaches out her hand to Gretchen, who reluctantly takes it. I sigh with relief. I’m not a big fan of conflict in the first place, but between my sisters … Well, we’ve already got enough conflict in our lives—we don’t need any extra between us.

  “Wonderful,” Greer says, with a bit of her false cheerfulness returned. “You are welcome to stay here tonight. I’ll be gone quite early to go set up. The tea should be over by four. I’ll be back by five at the latest.”

  Gretchen grumbles again, but nods.

  “Great,” I say. “I need to get home soon. Curfew. But I’ll be back here tomorrow afternoon.”

  Greer says good night and leaves us in an awkward silence.

  “So,” I say, trying to break the ice, “we’re going to rescue Sthenno and Euryale tomorrow? That’s great.”

  “Yeah, it’s peachy keen,” Gretchen snaps. “I need some fresh air. Can you stay with him?”

  She jerks her head at Nick.

  “Sure, but—”

  “I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” she says. “I need to clear my head.”