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"Back here, pumpkin."
I'd barely closed the front door behind me when my grandma's voice drifted down the hal way. I couldn't see her from where I was, but it sounded like she was in the kitchen.
Grandma Frost was a Gypsy, just like me, which meant that she also had a gift, that she had magic. In Grandma's case, she could see the future. In fact, that's how she made extra cash-by giving psychic readings here in her house.
People came from near and far to get Geraldine Frost to read their fortunes. But unlike some of the conmen out there, Grandma didn't lie to anyone about what she saw.
She always told people the truth, no matter how good, bad, or ugly it was.
I walked down the hal way and stepped into the kitchen.
With its white tile floors and sky blue wal s, the kitchen was a bright, cheery space and my favorite room in the whole house.
Grandma Frost stood in front of one of the counters, chopping up dried strawberries and dropping the ruby red pieces into a bowl of cookie dough. In addition to her psychic powers, Grandma also had some mad baking skil s. I breathed in and could practical y taste the dark chocolate, rich brown sugar, and bittersweet almond flavoring she'd already stirred into the batter.
Yum.
Grandma must have just finished tel ing her fortunes for the day because she was stil dressed in what she cal ed her "Gypsy gear"-a white silk blouse, black pants, black slippers with curled toes, and most important, lots and lots of colorful scarves. The gauzy layers of lilac, gray, and emerald fabric fluttered around her body, while the gleaming silver coins on the ends of the scarves jingled and jangled together in a merry way. She also had a scarf wrapped over her head, hiding her iron gray hair from sight.
Grandma had taken off the stacks of rings she usual y wore on her fingers. The silver bands clumped together in a smal patch of sunlight on the kitchen table, the jewels in them flashing and winking like faceted fireflies.
"You were expecting me," I said, slinging my messenger bag into a chair and eyeing the gooey batter with hungry interest. "Did you get a psychic flash that I was coming over?"
"Nah," Grandma Frost said, her violet eyes twinkling in her wrinkled face. "It's Wednesday. You always come to see me on Wednesdays, before you work your shift at the library. I finished a little early today, so I thought I'd make some cookies for you and Daphne."
I'd brought Daphne over and introduced the Valkyrie to my grandma a few weeks ago. The two of them had total y hit it off, thanks in part to the excel ent applesauce cake Grandma had made that day. Daphne didn't have a raging sweet tooth like Grandma and I did, but the cake had stil knocked off her pink argyle socks.
Now, every time I came over here, Grandma always sent me back to Mythos with a treat for both me and Daphne, usual y packed up in a tin shaped like a giant chocolate-chip cookie. The tin matched the cookie jar on the counter.
"So what's going on at school this week, pumpkin?"
Grandma asked, dividing the batter into smal , round bal s and then sliding the cookies into the oven so they could bake.
I sat down at the table. "Not much. Classes, homework, weapons training-the usual. Although Daphne keeps asking me to go with her to this thing cal ed the Winter Carnival. The Powers That Were at the academy are taking al the kids over to one of the ski resorts. There are supposed to be carnival games and parties and stuff al weekend long."
"Oh?" Grandma said. "I remember that from your mom's days at the academy. She always seemed to have a lot of fun on those trips."
I shrugged. "Maybe the carnival wil be fun, maybe not.
I'm not even sure yet if I'm going or not." Grandma looked over at me, but her violet eyes were suddenly blank and glassy, like she was seeing something very far away instead of just me sitting in her kitchen.
"Wel , I think you should go," she murmured in that odd, absentminded voice she used whenever she was staring at something only she could see. "Get away from the academy for a while."
She was having one of her visions. I sat there, stil and quiet, while something old, powerful, and watchful swirled in the air around us. Something familiar and almost comforting. Something that made me think of a certain goddess I'd met not too long ago.
After a few seconds, Grandma's eyes snapped back into focus, and she smiled at me once more. The moment and her vision had passed, and the ancient, invisible force that had been stirring in the air around her was gone.
Sometimes Grandma got al sorts of details when she had one of her visions, seeing the future with sharp, crystal clarity.
Sometimes, though, her psychic flashes were vague and hazy, and she only got a general sense that something good or bad was going to happen, but not exactly what it was. This must have been one of those vague and hazy times, because she didn't say anything else about why I should go to the Winter Carnival or what might take place once I got there. Besides, Grandma had always told me that she wanted me to make my own choices and chart my own destiny, instead of acting on a possible future that might never come to pass in the first place. That's why she rarely shared the specific things she saw whenever she had a vision about me.
Grandma sat down beside me at the kitchen table while we waited for the chocolate-strawberry cookies to bake.
"So, pumpkin, what are you on the trail of this week?" she asked, smiling. "Tracking down more lost cel phones and laptops for the other Mythos students?"
"Nah," I said. "Everyone's focused on the Winter Carnival.
Nobody's hired me to find anything for them this week." Cel phones, laptops, wal ets, purses, car keys, jewelry, discarded bras, and missing boxers-my psychometry magic helped me find al sorts of things that were lost, stolen, or otherwise missing. Of course, if the object wasn't where it was supposed to be, I couldn't actual y touch it, but people left vibes everywhere they went and on everything they handled. Usual y, al I had to do was run my fingers across a guy's desk or dig through a girl's purse to get an idea about where he'd last left his wal et or where she'd put down her cel phone. And if I didn't immediately flash on an item's location, then I kept touching that person's stuff until I did-or saw an image of who had swiped it. Most of the time, it was pretty easy for me to fol ow the trail of psychic bread crumbs to the missing item.
"And how are you feeling, pumpkin?" Grandma asked in a softer voice. "About everything? It's been several months now since ... the accident."
I looked at her, wondering at the way she'd said "the accident," like the words had some hidden meaning, but Grandma's face was dark and sad. Besides, I knew what she was real y asking: how was I handling my mom's death.
My dad, Tyr Forseti, had passed away from cancer when I was a kid. He and my mom, Grace, had been married, but she'd kept the last name of Frost and given it to me, as was the tradition for al the women in our family, since our Gypsy gifts, our powers, were passed down from mother to daughter .
I don't even remember my dad, but my mom had died back in the spring, and everything about her death was stil sharp and fresh and painful. I had a lot of guilt-okay, a ton of guilt-over my mom's death, since I'd sort of caused it.
Back at my old high school, I'd picked up another girl's hairbrush after gym class. I'd figured I'd be safe enough using it, since it was just a hairbrush. Most people didn't have a lot of feelings about what they used to comb their hair.
I'd been wrong.
Instead, I'd immediately flashed on the hairbrush and had learned a sick, sick secret-that the girl's stepdad was sexual y abusing her. The memories, images, and feelings had been so horrible that I'd had a total freak-out with my magic. I'd screamed and screamed and screamed before blacking out and later waking up in the hospital. I'd told my mom about what I'd seen, since she was a police detective.
My mom had cal ed me from the police station that night to say she'd arrested the girl's stepdad.
That had been the last time I'd ever spoken to her.
Mom's car had been T-boned by a drunk driver on her way home. Supposedly, she'd died instantly, and she'd been messed up so badly from the accident that the casket had been closed at her funeral. Hence, al my heart-shattering, soul-twisting guilt. I couldn't help but think that if I hadn't picked up that hairbrush, then my mom wouldn't have been out so late-and she would have never been kil ed.
I missed my mom like crazy, and I knew Grandma Frost did too, since it had always been just the three of us. That's why I risked the wrath of the professors and the other Powers That Were at Mythos to sneak off campus to come see her and that's why Grandma let me. Because we both wanted to spend as much time with each other as we could, just in case one of us was ever taken away as suddenly and cruel y as my mom had been-
Ding !
The timer sounded, interrupting my dark, guilty thoughts and saving me from answering her question. Grandma got up and slid the cookies out of the oven. The smel s of melted sugar, sweet strawberries, and dark chocolate blasted into the kitchen, making everything feel warm, safe, and cozy. I didn't even wait for the cookies to cool before I snatched two off the baking sheet, broke them apart, and stuffed the pieces into my mouth. Yum. So good.
"Now you be sure and give some of these to Daphne,"
Grandma reminded me in a gentle voice, fil ing up my usual tin with the cookies. "I know she'l want some, too."
"Okay." That's what I said, but since I was stil chewing, it sounded more like "Mmm-kay."
By the time Grandma had finished packing up the cookies, it was after five, which meant that I needed to leave so I could ride the bus back up to the academy.
Nickamedes would be on my ass if I was even a minute late for my shift. In addition to going to classes and weapons training, I also had to work several hours a week at the Library of Antiquities as sort of an after-school job. Fun, fun.
I slid the container of cookies into my messenger bag, on top of the stack of comic books I was currently reading, then slung the strap over my head and across my chest.
"Love you, Grandma." I leaned down and kissed her wrinkled cheek.
"I love you too, pumpkin," she said, patting my hand one final time. "You be careful. It's a wicked old world out there." I paused, wondering if Grandma Frost was having another one of her psychic flashes, if she was trying to warn me about something, but her violet eyes were calm, clear, and focused. Then again, I didn't real y need Grandma to warn me. Thanks to my time at Mythos, I knew exactly what kind of scary things were out there-
things like Reapers of Chaos, Nemean prowlers, and most especial y, Loki.
"I wil ," I promised her. "I'l be careful." With a third, stil
-warm cookie in my hand, I left Grandma Frost's house. The sun had given up trying to break through the clouds, and it had gotten even darker and colder while I'd been inside. I shoved the rest of the cookie into my mouth and stuck my hands deep into my jacket pockets, wishing I'd thought to wear gloves today. Of course, I supposed I could have worn gloves around the clock, to cut down on the flashes I got off other people and objects. But I already felt like enough of a freak as it was. Wearing elbow-length gloves al the time would so not help my social status at Mythos.
I walked to the end of the block, looked both ways to make sure the coast was clear, and stepped out into the street heading for the bus stop on the opposite side.
I didn't even see the car until it was right on top of me.
It was a big, black, expensive SUV with a shiny silver gril e
-and it was racing right toward me.
I froze in the middle of the street, not quite believing what I was seeing, not quite believing that the driver hadn't spotted me, that he wasn't going to blow the horn and slam on his brakes at any moment. Where had he come from?
The street had been completely empty a second ago.
The SUV kept coming and coming, and the wheels kept churning and churning, gulping down al the pavement that separated us. The tinted windshield loomed up in my vision until it was al that I could see-a hungry black maw that was going to swal ow me up whole, and then spit out my bloody, broken bones.
It seemed like forever, but after a second, my brain kicked in, screaming Move! Move! Move! I didn't have an Amazon's lightning-quick speed, but I managed to throw myself forward, my body slamming against a rusty pickup truck parked on the opposite side of the street.
The SUV roared past me, so close I felt the rush of air from its passing brush the back of my jacket. The vehicle zoomed down the street, zipped around the corner at the end of the block, and disappeared from view. The driver never slowed down-not even for a second.
With my mouth open, heart hammering, arms trembling, and legs shaking, I stared down the empty street and wondered whether or not the whole thing had been an accident-or something far more sinister.
Chapter 4
Heart stil racing, I staggered onto the sidewalk and huddled against the steps of the home at the end of the block. I thought about sprinting back to my Grandma Frost's house and tel ing her what had happened, but there was nothing she could do. The SUV
was probably long gone, and I hadn't gotten a look at the license plate.
The bus made my decision for me. Just as I'd taken a few tentative steps back to Grandma's house, the vehicle pul ed up to the curb and the door opened. I bit my lip. As much as I wanted to run back to the safety of Grandma Frost's house, I didn't want to be late for my shift at the library either. Nickamedes already watched me like a hawk. I didn't want him to know the real reason I was late al the time. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't see my grandma whenever I wanted to.
So I sighed and trudged onto the bus. I peered out the window the whole ride back up to Cypress Mountain, but I didn't see the black SUV that had almost mowed me down.
