But in this case, it wasn’t my power. If this was the same thing as what happened to me, a life for a life, then other kids were dying and being saved and having scapegoats go in their place. Was that even something I could stop? Maybe no one was summoning the gods—maybe the gods were coming here of their own accord. Meddling.
Another god stirs. . . . Chills raced across my skin at the thought. It didn’t make sense—none of it did—but did it even matter? Did the gods ever make sense to mortals? I had to save my friends. That was it. Understanding the gods’ motivations could wait.
The boys were already at breakfast when I arrived, and there was an odd sort of tension between us when I sat down. Elisa and Oliver were deep in conversation about something in their shared French class, but Chris and Ethan just sat there, stirring coffee or picking at scrambled eggs and staring out the great picture windows at the frozen lake beyond. My stomach twisted. I wasn’t an actor, but I knew I had to be cheerful, witty Kaira. It was the only way forward. But I really didn’t think I had it in me today. Not with my carefully constructed walls between myth and mortality dissolving.
“How goes?” I asked, setting my tray down beside Ethan. He glanced over at me and shrugged.
Chris, at least, was a little more talkative.
“Sleepy,” he said. His jaw cracked with a yawn. “Bad dreams.”
“Me too,” Elisa replied. “Though maybe it was from sleeping on the floor.”
“I have a funny feeling everyone’s having bad dreams,” I said.
“Yeah,” Ethan said. He gave me a look that clearly said especially after what we saw. I knew he and I needed to talk. The painting studio discovery was probably more of a shock for him and Chris than it was for me, for different reasons. But he’d be more inclined to think there was a killer on the loose, rather than something mystical. I almost laughed; the fact that I was more comfortable with this being supernatural in nature rather than a psychopath was crazy.
“We should do something tonight,” Chris said. “You know, movie night or something.”
“We could rent a movie from the library,” Elisa ventured.
“Or go off campus,” Ethan said. His expression lit up—he was a Sagittarius, and I knew he was always eager to get on the road, even for small trips. “There’s a really great comedy playing at the cinema.”
Of course he was the type of boy to say “cinema” rather than “movie theatre.”
I had no doubt the next few nights would be spent doing everything we could to get off campus. Something about Islington had changed—it no longer felt like a bastion of safety as it had before. It was starting to feel like a tomb.
We spent a few minutes talking about movies and homework and upcoming concerts. I couldn’t focus on the conversation. It took everything I had to move my fork to my mouth and swallow. There was a voice screaming in the back of my mind, a goddess ranting about power and duty. The crows that kept sweeping past the windows didn’t help. With every black shadow that crossed my gaze, her voice grew stronger.
“You okay?”
I shook my head and forced my attention back. Back to the cafeteria, back to my friends, and away from the oil of feathers and pressure of power. Chris looked at me with serious eyes; something about that expression helped root me down and force the voices away. When I was focused on him, the rest of the crazy world went silent.
I realized he’d asked me a question.
“Sorry,” I said, glancing down to my plate. “Just a bit distracted.”
He placed a hand over mine and squeezed my fingers. I didn’t flinch like I usually would have. I was just too damn tired to care.
“I understand,” he said. And it sounded like he actually might. That was dangerous. “Do you need to talk?”
I shrugged. “I’m okay. Just a lot on my mind.”
“That’s a lot of justs,” he replied. “I gotta head to class, but let me know if you need anything, okay? I’m here for you.”
I looked in his eyes again and felt the weight of his words. I’m here for you. I didn’t want to admit how many years I’d yearned for someone to tell me that and mean it. Ethan and my mom, sure . . . but this was different. This made my heart ache with the promise of something I couldn’t let myself desire. Then Brad’s face flashed behind my eyes—him in the bathroom and him dead on the field—and I drew my hand back to my lap.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Of course,” he replied. I could tell he was hurt by my withdrawal. It was better that way, though. There wasn’t a point in falling for me. You couldn’t date someone with a bloody past and no future.
I watched him walk away. Apparently I wasn’t the only one.
“He’s really sweet,” Elisa said. I turned around and realized she and I were the only ones at the table. Had Ethan and Oliver said good-bye without my noticing?
“He is,” I replied.
“I thought you said you weren’t dating.”