Sweet Shadows Page 23

  A black hole the size of a normal portal appears above our heads. Above our circle. As I watch, the portal grows. And grows. And grows until it practically fills the entire space above us.

  “Now, Grace!” Greer shouts.

  Grace squeezes her eyes shut, concentrating.

  “Nothing is happening,” Greer says.

  Grace starts shaking. “Give me a minute.”

  The portal is still growing, taking over more and more of the gym, moving lower and lower. Some of the flying creatures scream as they are sucked back into the abyss. If Grace doesn’t get us out of here, we’ll be next.

  “Now, Grace, we need to go—”

  The world around me disappears, I’m blinded by bright white light for a moment, and then I’m in a living room. Nick is still at my back—I can feel him. Greer’s hand is still tight in my left one, Grace’s still in my right. We’re together, whole, and out of that gym.

  “Grace, you did it!” I shout.

  I yank her close into a hug. Greer too.

  “Ah-hem.”

  Grace stiffens. “Oh no.”

  Nick unwraps his arms and I release my sisters. Turning, I know I shouldn’t be surprised to see a pair of adults and a boy our age standing there. It doesn’t take Greer’s second sight to know what has happened.

  When Grace was trying to desperately get us out of that battle, she zapped us to the one place she always feels safe. Home.

  “Mom. Dad.” Her voice is breaking. “Um, I can explain.”

  CHAPTER 31

  GRACE

  Greer and Gretchen offer to go wait somewhere else—my room, the hall, maybe the moon even—but I think they should be here for this. I look around the dining table, my sisters on either side of me, Mom and Dad at either end, and Thane and Nick across the shiny surface. Nick seems unfazed by the situation, but Thane is unusually tense.

  Everyone is looking at me.

  I take a deep breath. Time to stop keeping secrets.

  “It all started a few weeks ago,” I explain, “when Milo took me and Thane to a nightclub.”

  Dad clears his throat.

  “An all-ages club,” I hurry to explain, as if that will be the most problematic part of the conversation. “That’s where I, um, met Gretchen.”

  Gretchen shifts uncomfortably in her chair. For a girl who’s used to being on her own, with only an open-minded guardian for company, sitting at a full family table is probably really awkward. Especially when she’s a central part of the story.

  “By then I’d already started seeing monsters,” I confess. “It started almost as soon as we moved to San Francisco.”

  “At the dim sum place?” Thane asks. “That was the first one?”

  I nod. “And then more at the nightclub. So when Gretchen explained what we are, it was kind of a relief.”

  “And just what are you?” Mom asks.

  At least she’s being open to the craziness I’m finally sharing.

  Beneath the table, I take my sisters’ hands in mine.

  “We are descendants of the mortal Gorgon Medusa,” I say. “Monster hunters.”

  “Huntresses, actually,” Greer adds.

  “I don’t—” Mom shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

  I give my family a brief rundown of the story as I know it. About how Medusa was a guardian, about how her legacy has been skewed by history, about how we’re the latest set of descendants, supposed to guard the door between our world and the abyss.

  I leave out the part about us being the Key Generation because, really, that’s not critical information right now. They’re having to process enough already. I don’t want them any more worried about me than they have to be, than I know they will be when I tell them the rest.

  “So, what you’re saying,” Dad says, “is that when you’ve been telling your mother and me that you are studying at a friend’s, you’ve actually been roaming the streets hunting monsters.”

  “No, not always,” I say. “Most of the time I was at Gretchen’s loft, studying. Training.”

  “Gretchen’s loft?” Mom echoes. “That’s where you were last night?”

  My cheeks burn. “No, I was in Greer’s basement.”

  “Gretchen’s loft blew up,” Greer offers.

  I kick her under the table.

  “What?” Mom gasps.

  “It’s nothing,” I insist.

  Thane glares at me across the table, and I swear his eyes burn like gray flames.

  “I mean, we’re fine.”

  Dad rubs his eyes. “Gracie, this is all very … inventive, but—”

  “Don’t be obtuse, Sam,” Mom says. “We both saw her and her … friends appear in the living room.”

  “Did we?” He sounds tired. “Maybe we just—”

  I knew he would take more convincing. He’s an engineer, after all. You can’t calculate for monsters and mythology with even the most complicated equations.

  “Dad,” I say. When he looks up, I open my mouth and let my fangs drop into place.

  He blinks. Several times. “I don’t …”

  “It’s real,” Thane says.

  I can’t tell if he’s just as much in a state of disbelief or if he’s trying to convince Dad or if he actually knows more than he’s letting on. He’s taking this in pretty easily, without many questions. He and I can have a conversation later. Right now, I have more to tell Mom and Dad. I nod and smile, letting my fangs retract into my mouth.

  “The thing is,” I say, more nervous about this part than the rest, “everything is getting worse.”

  “What do you mean worse?” Mom asks.

  “Because Gretchen and Greer and I have been reunited, things are starting to change.” I take a deep breath. “And, um, a war is coming.”

  Mom gasps again.

  “War?” Dad’s eyes get wide. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s complicated, Dad, but basically some people—some gods—want us to guard the door. Others want us to seal it forever.”

  “Others want us—”

  I kick Greer before she can tell my already freaked parents that there are gods and monsters out there trying to kill us.

  She glares at me. “To open it and leave it unprotected.”

  “Yes,” I say, relieved by her tact. I focus on my mom for this part of the reveal, because I think she’ll be the most understanding. “In the meantime, while things get worked out, it’s going to be kind of dangerous around here.”

  “Sounds like it already is.”

  I nod. “It’s going to get worse.”

  As quickly as possible, I explain about the immortal Gorgons and the abyss and how we need to rescue them because they’re the only ones with answers. Then I get to the hard part.

  “Mom, Dad,” I say, trying to sound as mature and responsible as possible. “Gretchen, Greer, and I need to go into the abyss. It’s the only way to get to Olympus, to get Euryale and Sthenno back.”

  For five whole seconds, they stare at me, mouths agog. I know how this must sound to them—the fact that they’re even taking me seriously is extraordinary—but I have to make them understand.

  “Certainly not,” Dad finally says. “If I believe anything you’re saying, you are not going into that—”

  “Please, Dad. Don’t make this any harder. Things are just as dangerous at home.” I turn back to Mom. “One monster already showed up here. In the alley. Monday last week.”

  I watch her eyes as realization dawns, as she puts the pieces together and figures out that, when I disappeared for hours the other night, I had a good reason. “Oh, Grace,” she says. “I had no idea.”

  “I know, Mom.” I smile, letting her know that I don’t blame her for her reaction at all. She feels guilty, but I’m the one to blame. I’m the one who kept it a secret.

  “I—” Her eyes fill with tears. “I don’t like this.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” I say. “It’s my destiny.”

  She nods and then
looks at Dad.

  “Please,” I say to him. “Trust me.”

  His face softens. “Of course I trust you, Gracie.”

  “Then you have to let me do this.” I glance at my sisters. “You have to let us do this.”

  He frowns, but I can tell the exact moment he relents. It’s barely noticeable, a tiny shift in his eyes. I don’t need their permission—this is something I have to do—but I’d rather have their support all the same.

  I mouth, “Thank you.”

  “I’m going with you,” Thane says.

  I give him a pleading look. “Thane …”

  “No,” he says. “You’re my sister too. I’m going with you.”

  Something passes between us, something he’s trying to tell me. His stormy gray eyes are intent on mine, and I get the feeling this is about more than just being a protective big brother. Greer squeezes my hand, and when I look at her she nods. I don’t know why that reassures me, makes me feel better. It just does.

  I look back at Thane. “Okay.”

  Five of us will make this journey, then. Me, my sisters, Nick, and Thane. We’ll have fractionally better odds, and that’s something.

  Twenty minutes later, Mom and Dad have packed our backpacks full of food and water. They’ve asked me if I’m sure about what we have to do about a million times. And I think they are finally accepting that this is something I can’t—won’t—walk away from.

  They’ve also promised to be extracautious—to watch their backs when they leave or enter the apartment, to take off if things seem to be getting worse, to take care of themselves so I have two fewer things to worry about—until this is all over. Or, at least, settled.

  At the door, Mom hugs me tighter than ever before. Dad pats Thane on the back.

  “You take care of her, son,” he says.

  Thane nods. Considering the fights they usually get into, I don’t think Dad has ever been prouder of him.

  Mom turns and hugs Thane. “You take care of you too.”

  Then we’re gone. They’re staying home, staying safe. I’m the one walking into danger. But not alone. I turn to face Nick, my brother, and my sisters, struggling to keep the tears from my eyes. I was being so strong for Mom and Dad, and now I feel it crumbling away.

  “Okay,” I say, forcing positivity. “Now what?”

  “Now,” Gretchen says, “we gather the rest of the supplies. If we’re going in, we’re going in prepared.”

  She makes a list of what we need, assigns each of us a portion of it, and then we’re on our own. I’m getting half a dozen flashlights and extra batteries. Thane is filling another two backpacks with food and water. Everyone else is on special errands and we’re meeting in Greer’s basement in two hours.

  As we part ways to gather our supplies, I pull Thane aside.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me,” I say.

  His face remains expressionless. “There usually is.”

  When he starts to turn away, I grab his elbow.

  “Thane—”

  “Now isn’t the time. When this is all over, when we get back safely,” he says, “then we can talk.”

  I want to push him for answers, but he’s right. There’s no time.

  “I’m going to hold you to that promise,” I tell him.

  He grins. “I know you will, Grace-face.”

  I’m so stunned by his uncharacteristic smile that I stand silent as he turns and heads out on his errand. Then I shake myself back to reality. Time is ticking and I need to get moving too. Two hours until the scariest moment of my life. It may be selfish, but I’m glad Thane will be at my side. Who can a girl rely on if not her big brother?

  CHAPTER 32

  GREER

  Mother and Dad would never accept and understand the situation the way Grace’s parents did. They would think I’d lost my mind or that I was acting out to win their attention. The idea of telling them the truth about everything does not even cross my mind.

  However, the danger to them is all too real. I can’t keep them in the dark, going on with their everyday lives when the peril grows with every passing minute. When another monster might show up at our front door at any time.

  Which is why, while the others disperse across the city to gather supplies for our trip into the abyss, I return home, calling my parents along the way.

  Dad agrees easily, promising to swing by the house on the way to his afternoon meeting in the Haight. Mother is a more difficult sell.

  “I’m sure this can wait, Greer,” she says, sounding distracted. “We can discuss your emergency when I get home this evening.”

  I don’t tell her that an emergency, by its very definition, cannot wait. I don’t tell her, either, that she likely won’t be home before I would normally be in bed asleep.

  “Please, Mother.” I hate to beg, even more than she hates seeing or hearing desperation, but I tell myself that in a short while she won’t remember this conversation. “It truly cannot wait. Please come home.”

  I hear her sigh. Voice muffled, as if she’s covering the mouthpiece of her phone, she tells her assistant, “Transfer the notes to my tablet. I’ll read them on my way home.”

  “Thank you, Mo—”

  The phone clicks dead in my ear. I stifle the brief surge of pain. No point wasting time and energy being hurt. She’s coming home—they both are—and I will make them safe. That’s all that matters.

  Dad arrives first. He’s on the phone, waving me off for a moment. “Absolutely not,” he barks into the phone. “Those terms are unacceptable and they know it. Send them back to their garage to come up with something more reasonable.”

  He snaps his phone back onto his belt holster.

  “What is the big emergency, Greer?” he asks, sounding more intrigued than concerned.

  “I’d rather wait for Mother to arrive,” I say. “So I can talk with you both at once.”

  “Your mother is coming home as well?” His brows lift in surprise. “Sounds serious.”

  Mother walks in, saving me from a temporary explanation.

  “I’m here,” she says. “Now please tell me what on earth is so very urgent.”

  As much as I would rather they sit, giving me the slight advantage of height over them, I don’t have time. My sisters and the boys will be here any minute. I need to get my parents out of harm’s way before that happens.

  “You need to take a vacation,” I say.

  Mother snorts.

  “You know that’s not possible,” Dad says. “But if you want to use the company jet—”

  I step closer to Mother, focus my eyes on hers, and will the power to work. “You need to take a vacation.”

  She scowls, and then her face clears. In a hollow voice, she says, “I need to take a vacation.”

  “What?” Dad sounds stunned. As well he should. The last time I remember my parents taking a vacation was … well, never. I think they even passed on a honeymoon in favor of business school graduation.

  “I need a vacation,” Mother repeats.

  Before Dad can figure out something weird is going on, I put myself in his line of sight, look him in the eye, and say, “Yes, you both need a vacation.”

  Immediately his face goes just as blank as Mother’s. “We need a vacation.”

  “Somewhere warm,” I say. “Without internet. Without cell phone service.”

  “No cell phone,” Mother repeats.

  For an instant, half a moment, I’m tempted to go one step further. To tell my mother I love her and hear her tell me back. But I know it won’t be real. Mother doesn’t express affection.

  Instead, I continue my instructions. “You won’t even pack a bag. You will get your passports. Take a car to the airport and make the travel arrangements when you get there. Buy everything you need when you get to your destination.”

  “Passports,” Dad says.

  Mother nods. “Destination.

  “You will be gone at least two weeks,” I add. “You w
ill not check in with me because you know I’m fine.”

  “You’re fine.”

  I glance at my watch, an antique handed down from my great-grandmother. I have only a few minutes.

  “Go,” I say. “Get back in one of the cars waiting outside and go. Now.”

  They turn to leave.

  At the last moment, I can’t stop myself. “Mother,” I call out. When she turns, I say, “I love you.”

  “I love you,” she echoes back.

  If I close my eyes, I can almost believe she said it for real. Almost.

  I rush forward, wrap my arms around her waist, and allow myself a moment of connection. Then I release her and they disappear into the shiny black car. I’m still watching the spot where the car vanished around the corner when everyone shows up.

  “Are we ready?” I ask.

  We all have fully loaded backpacks, with everything Gretchen thinks we’ll need—or might need—in the abyss. Mine holds enough provisions for a week, at least, along with a fleece jacket and a pashmina that can function as a scarf, blanket, or pillow. Gretchen said it was freezing in there, and I have low tolerance for cold.

  “Ready,” Grace says, heaving her own bag of provisions onto her back.

  The boys and Gretchen carry the heaviest loads, with not only their own provisions but also weapons and antivenoms Gretchen has retrieved from the safe house, extra provisions for everyone, and some other items that Gretchen and Nick were very secretive about.

  The member of our party I understand the least is Thane. Grace’s brother.

  He doesn’t have to be here, standing there like a statue with the heaviest bag of all on his back. He could have stayed home with their parents—should have stayed, maybe—and left the dangerous job to those of us with supernatural abilities.

  When Grace was trying to convince him to stay home, I had a brief vision. We were somewhere dark and black—the abyss—and Grace and I were facing down a hideous monster. The thing was about to slice through Grace with long, bladelike claws when Thane clobbered the thing from behind. He saved Grace’s life. That’s why I encouraged her to let him come.

  Still, there is something … compelling about him. I can’t stop sneaking glances at him. And I am not the sort of girl to sneak furtive glances.