Sweet Shadows (21 page)

Whew. It feels good to share even a little bit of what’s going on.

“That’s tough,” he says. “What class is it for?”

Ooops. I didn’t think that far ahead. I try to think of a subject that he’s probably not taking. “Oh, um, computer science.”

He whistles. “Can’t help you with that one.”

“Darn,” I say. “And I was so hoping you were up on your JavaScript coding skills.”

“I may not know about computer stuff,” he says, kicking a pebble up the sidewalk as we walk. “But I am brilliant at motivation. Want some?”

“Definitely.”

I smile as he stops and turns me to face him. His mint-green eyes look steadily into my silver ones. He’s taking this very seriously.

“If you really want something,” he says, “you go after it. Even if you think it’s impossible. Even if it scares you. Even if you think it might kill you. You go after it.”

I know a thing or two about scary. Especially the kind that might actually kill me. In fact, scary has been a big part of my life lately. If it’s not one of the factions in the brewing war plotting my death, it’s a monster pouring out of the abyss or disappearing into—

“Omigosh!”

Milo jerks back, startled.

I have an idea how to find out how to get Gretchen back.

“I’m sorry.” I can’t keep the huge grin off my face. “I have to go.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” I say. “You helped me figure out the next step of my project,” I explain, hoping he doesn’t ask any specific questions. “And now that I know what to do, I want to go attack it right away.”

Attack being the key word.

He nods. “I understand.”

He sounds resigned.

I can’t leave like this. I don’t want him thinking I’m ditching him, or that I don’t want to be here. I do want to spend time with him, so badly. But I want to rescue my sister from the monster abyss more. And now I have an idea of how I can do that.

I’m so excited by my idea, it’s like happy-filled bubbles are popping in my chest, and I act without thinking. I step forward, lean up, and plant a quick kiss on his adorable mouth.

As I pull back, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment, I see Milo’s eyes widen.

“I promise,” I say with as much conviction as possible. “I want to spend time with you. I want to go out every night and eat weird food I’ve never even heard of and make fun of bad movies and just … be together.”

“Me too,” he says quietly.

“But right now,” I say, backing slowly away from him, “I have to go.”

This time, when he says, “I understand,” I think he really does.

With one last, beaming grin, I turn and run to the nearest bus stop. I want to call Greer immediately and tell her my plan, but she is in her tea meeting right now. Her phone will be off, so there’s no point in calling. I’ll be waiting when she gets out.

G
reer.... Greer? … Greer!”

“What?” I glare at the source of the shouting, my alumnae tea cochair nemesis, Veronica. I am seriously over the sound of her voice.

“There is a motion to have the sugar cubes formed in the shape of a fleur-de-lis.” Veronica gives me an annoyed look. “We need your vote.”

“Oh,” I say. “I vote yes. Fine.”

She marks down the vote and starts counting them up.

I know I’m distracted. I’ve barely paid attention to anything that has happened during this meeting. For all I know, Veronica has resurrected her horrid ice sculpture idea and there will now be a frozen dragon at Saturday’s event.

This is so unlike me. I can usually shake off anything, focus on the task at hand, and get things done. When I put my foot down with Grace about having to be present at this meeting, I fully expected to leave my other worries at the door. I’m failing miserably.

My mind keeps drifting, trying to find a solution to the current problem. And that is not whether to have the string quartet begin with the school anthem or Ravel’s
Bolero
, as the ladies around me are debating. For once, the minute details of planning an elaborate event seem trivial to me. I have more pressing, more important life-or-death matters to worry about.

I feel that the answer I’m looking for is somewhere close by. That if I just reach out—with my mind, with my fingertips, with
something
—I’ll grab it. I close my eyes and try to focus my thoughts entirely on the problem. Using meditation techniques my personal trainer taught me, I visualize the problem—Gretchen in the abyss—and then a solution appearing in a sealed envelope. Mentally, I reach out and take the envelope. I break the seal, lift the flap, and pull out the paper inside. It says—

“Greer!” Veronica screeches, her whiny voice shattering my visualization into a million tiny pieces.

Enough. As much as I want to tell them to leave me alone with my thoughts, for the time being I need to focus. I need to get through this meeting, get everything on track for Saturday’s big day, and then I can work on the Gretchen problem. I put the mythology half of my life into a mental box and lock it tight. I will reopen it when the meeting is over.

“Sorry,” I say, still tossing a glare at Veronica for good measure. “What’s the vote?”

An hour later, I declare the meeting over and I can’t get out of the conference room fast enough. I’ve had enough color choices and garnish preferences and last-minute seating arrangement quandaries to last me a lifetime. I stuff everything into my satchel and rush out, trying to get away before anyone can stop to ask me questions—about the tea, fashion, homework, whatever.

As soon as I step into the street, I sense Grace. It’s like the mythology box in my brain bursts open. I don’t know how I know she’s here, but I’m getting used to just knowing some things. Head whipping around, I spot her standing across the street.

“Greer!” she calls out, waving from a spot next to a streetlamp.

I look over my shoulder, relieved to see no one behind me. Yet. I wave her out of sight as I hurry across the street.

“Are you crazy?” I demand, irritation flaring. How would I explain to the tea committee about my previously unknown twin sister showing up at my school? “What if someone saw you? What if—”

“I know what to do,” she interrupts. “I mean, I think I do. I have an idea how to get some answers.”

“You what?”

Across the street, the front doors swing open and the rest of the committee emerges from the building. I duck down, pulling Grace with me.

“Stay low,” I instruct. “Meet me at my car around the corner. Go.”

I give her a gentle shove. She stays low, below the roofline of the cars lining the street. I stand and pretend to check my lipstick, giving her time to get around the corner before following.

When we’re both safely in my car, I say, “You didn’t have to come here. I was going to call you.”

“I know,” she says, sounding contrite. “But I couldn’t wait.”

“Okay.” I nod. “Tell me about your big idea.” She fidgets with the hem of her tee, not taking her eyes off her lap. “Grace,” I say as I turn onto my street. “What do we have to do?”

“We need to capture a monster.”

I pace the carpet in the basement rec room. Grace has spent the last twenty minutes trying to convince me this is a good idea, but I’m not so sure. Monsters are, for the most part, dangerous and deadly creatures. Especially for a pair of newbie huntresses whose dead bodies could win a couple of bounty-hunting beasts their freedom. We’re a temptation for even the not-so-dangerous ones.

The idea is certifiably insane.

The problem is, it’s our
only
idea.

“This is crazy,” I say for the twentieth time.

“I know.” She sits on her hands on the couch. “What other choice do we have?”

I drop onto the couch next to her. I run through the scenarios in my mind, trying to come up with any other plan. Nothing. This is the first viable idea we’ve had since Gretchen left. Grace is right, I know she’s right. I just don’t
want
her to be right.

The image of Gretchen, leaping into the portal, into the abyss, to save her friend, flashes through my mind. She had no thought beyond protecting her own, even at the cost of her safety. She is courageous and loyal. She would have done the same for me or Grace without hesitation. What kind of sister—what kind of
guardian
—would I be if I didn’t show just as much courage when it comes to rescuing her? I might be scared—terrified—but she’s my blood.

“All right,” I finally say. “We can do this.”

“I think I know where to find one,” she says. “Gretchen told me about a kind of hotspot. An abandoned warehouse pier where she found tons of monsters over the years.”

I nod. For a moment I think about suggesting something safer, like the giant spider who is the custodian at my school. But that would mean bringing the two parts of my life together, and I want to avoid that at all cost. For as long as possible.

Besides, I like Harold. I don’t want to torture him for information.

“Sounds good,” I say, even though it sounds terrifying. “We can bring it back here.”

No one ever comes down here anymore, not since I stopped having slumber parties. Mother and Dad won’t be home until late and the housekeepers only clean this room once a month. I won’t have to explain why there’s a monster—who looks like a man—tied up in my basement. I only hope this hunt brings us the answers we need.

An hour later, Grace and I crouch on a stack of crates outside the warehouse, peering in a filthy window.

“Holy goalie,” Grace gasps.

I shake my head. “What in the world is going on in there?”

The scene before us, in the dark abandoned warehouse, is like something out of a postapocalyptic movie. The space is crowded with stacks of boxes and pallets, tarp-covered piles, and dusty forklifts. In the center of the floor there is a clearing, a square about fifty feet on each side, where there is a gathering.

Two dozen monsters of all different kinds, but all of them evil looking, stand guard around the clearing, circling the space to form an impenetrable barrier. Keeping the humans from escaping.

My heart stutters.

In the middle of the clearing, standing in very military-looking formation, perfect lines in perfect rows, are dozens of humans. Maybe more than a hundred.

They are dressed in ordinary street clothes and many of them look pretty out of shape, so they clearly aren’t real military personnel. They stand, unmoving, like someone has turned off their power switches.

The creepiest part is their faces. They are completely and utterly blank, as if someone—or something—or a lot of somethings—has hypnotized them. Not only are the lights off, but nobody’s home either.

Grace gasps again.

I follow the direction of her gaze, to the front of the human formation, where one of the monster guards is approaching a tall, middle-aged man who is wearing a business suit. The monster lifts the man’s wrist and chomps down.

I smack a hand over my mouth.

“What is he doing?” I whisper.

“I’m not sure,” Grace replies, “but Gretchen said the monsters drain human life force.”

“Drain them?”

“Something about feeding on human energy gives the monsters extra power in our realm.” She stares blankly through the window. “I think … it looks like they’ve
hypnotized
them.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” a mocking male voice says behind us. “Killed the cat.
”

I turn, slowly, afraid of what I’ll find.

There is a two-headed monster standing on the crate just below us. He must have snuck up on us while our attention was on the humans inside. He grins, a pair of sickening smiles, like he’s just found the biggest prize ever.

One head says, “Killed the huntress too.”

Grace elbows me in the ribs. I cast her a sideways glance and see her gesturing with her eyebrows. She’s kind of jerking her head at the double monster below us.

She mouths,
This one
.

Really?
I mouth back.

She nods.

I take a deep breath and sigh. Guess we’ve found our potential informant. And I suppose it’s my job to distract the thing. I take another deep breath, reminding myself of my duty.

“I must have hit my head, because I’m seeing double,” I say with a big fake smile on my face. “Double ugly, that is.”

One of the beast’s faces scowls in confusion while the other contorts in anger.

“Actually,” I say, moving slightly to my left and stepping toward the edge of our crate, “I think you might have two of the ugliest faces I’ve ever seen.”

The creature lunges for me. I leap down to the next crate over—grateful that I changed into flats for the hunt—trying to keep my balance and keep out of the monster’s reach. The monster follows after me, turning his back on Grace.

While his attention is focused on me, Grace steps up to his back, reaches out wide with both hands, and then—
crack!
In a swift movement, she knocks the two heads together. Hard.