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Sweet Legacy

Page 41

   


I turn my back to the door and sink to the ground. Why won’t she even talk to me? She must realize who I am and what’s going on.
Well, if she won’t let me in, then I’ll wait for her to come out. She’ll have to leave eventually.
“Please,” I whisper.
My phone dings in my pocket.
I pull it out and silence it so it can’t ding again. Maybe if Cassandra thinks I’m gone, she’ll come out sooner.
It’s a text from Milo.
“Success?”
I text back, “Yes and no.”
I stare at the screen, waiting for a reply.
“Be right up.”
I start to smile, wondering how long it will take for someone to let him in, but when I hear the lock above my head moving, I scramble to the side and press myself against the wall. I keep silent and out of direct view. The door starts to open.
Today I’m doing a lot of things I would normally never do: tell Milo the truth about me, push every buzzer in an apartment building, and—apparently—force my way into a stranger’s apartment. But she’s not really a stranger, is she? She’s my mother. Before Cassandra has time to react, I jump in front of her and block the door with my foot.
She doesn’t even scream.
“I’m sorry if this is a shock,” I say when I see her wide-eyed stare, “but this is important. Life or death, even.”
She watches me, her pale gray eyes unblinking. I can’t guess what’s running through her head, but, honestly, today I don’t care. Today, I put my hand in the doorjamb and take a step forward.
She’s in danger, and she’s as much a key part of this war as my sisters and I are. She needs to let me in. She needs to listen to me.
“You can’t be here,” she says. “Please, you have to go.”
When she backs up, I advance again.
“Leave the city.” Tears fill her eyes. “Before it’s too late.”
Two more steps and I’ll be inside the apartment.
“I can’t do that,” I explain. “You’re in danger. How much do you know about the legacy?”
She sucks in a breath. “The legacy?”
“Medusa and monsters and—”
“No,” she says, her voice cracking at the end. “It’s already begun.”
Then she’s lunging toward me. I brace myself for the attack, and my fangs descend on instinct.
When her arms wrap around me, I don’t know how to react.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she says. There is so much tightness in her voice that she can only be crying. “I separated you to protect you, to prevent the prophecy from coming true.” She leans back to look at me. “But I am a selfish creature, and I’m glad you’re here. I never thought I’d see you again.”
There are so many thoughts and emotions bombarding me, I can barely think. I can only hug her back.
“So I guess this one is your mother?”
I twist to look over my shoulder and give Milo what can only be a very confused look.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess so.”
CHAPTER 17
GRETCHEN
The safe house hasn’t been home for long—just enough time for it to feel weird having other people sit on the ratty couch and rickety chairs.
“A priestess of Apollo might be able to break the bond,” Ursula suggests.
“Might,” Sthenno echoes, “if she didn’t want to exploit the connection for herself. And just where would we find one? There hasn’t been a priestess of Apollo in North America for more than a century.”
Ursula shakes her head. “I know.” She frowns. “Even if there were, Apollo could track her even more immediately than he is tracking Greer. We would have no chance.”
Sthenno gives her a look that says, Precisely.
I stand in the kitchen, my back against the peeling white countertop.
Ursula—after four years it’s hard to call her anything else—sits on the shabby couch, looking much more like herself with clean hair and fresh clothes. I can’t stop staring at her. It feels like a century since I last saw her. She’s back, safe and sound.
It’s like a missing piece of my life has fallen back into place. As much as I hate to rely on anyone but myself, I never realized how much I had come to depend on her. She’s been my mother, my trainer, my boss, and my friend since I was twelve.
Even the new sisters in my life couldn’t quite fill all those voids the way having Ursula back does.
Her sister, Sthenno, stands in front of the small yellow-lace-curtained window. She, too, has bathed and changed clothes, although she chose a pair of my backup cargoes and a tank over Ursula’s flowing top and pants.
The two immortal gorgons are busy debating how to break Greer’s open connection with Apollo.
Greer and Thane are each sitting on one of the chairs from the dining table. I didn’t miss how Thane scooted his chair closer to hers after they sat down, or how Greer leaned toward him when he did.
Sillus sits on the counter next to me, his furry feet swinging back and forth.
This is finally the moment of opportunity I’ve been waiting for. Pushing away from the kitchen, I walk over to the dining table, spin one of the chairs around backward, and drop into the seat with my arms draped over the back.
“So, Thane,” I say with a falsely sweet smile. “Want to tell exactly how you’re involved in this big mythological mess?”