After a few seconds of just staring at him, my brain kick-started once more, and I reminded myself who I was talking to. Logan freaking Quinn, the man-whore of Mythos Academy. He was probably only talking to me because I'd turned him down the other day and he wanted another shot at me. He probably thought I was so lonely, friendless, and desperate that I'd be an easy mark. Another girl whose mattress he could sign and then never speak to again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Morgan say something to Daphne, then slip off into the crowd. Morgan had to be on her way to hook up with Samson, and Logan wasn't going to stop me from seeing what they were up to.
"Sorry," I said. "My company is going somewhere else."
Logan opened his mouth to say something, but this time I shoved past him and plunged into the darkness.
Morgan's tight light blue sweater and white skinny jeans stood out against the shadowy grass, making her easy to follow. Well, that and the fact that the Valkyrie was already drunk. She wobbled from side to side, occasionally stopping to take another drink from her plastic cup, as she left the amphitheater and slowly climbed the hill toward the library.
The Library of Antiquities didn't seem to me like the most romantic spot for a lovers' rendezvous, but I followed along behind Morgan, drifting from one group of kids to another, from one tree to another, so that she wouldn't see me. I shouldn't have bothered. The Valkyrie never looked behind her, not even once. So much for being discreet.
I wondered if this was how Jasmine had found out that her best friend was sleeping with her boyfriend. Just by following Morgan when she slipped off one night. I didn't think that Morgan McDougall was nearly as smart as she thought she was.
Morgan crested the hill, and I stopped and pretended to tie my sneaker to give her time to get across the upper quad. Then, I walked up the hill after her.
I reached the top and spotted Morgan weaving her way up the wide library steps. The library was closed because of the bonfire, and the Valkyrie headed to the left, staying on the open-air patio that wrapped all the way around the building. Wrought-iron tables and chairs perched on the patio, so students could sit outside and study when the weather was warm and sunny.
I didn't hurry up the steps after her but instead stayed on the quad, moving from tree to tree and going in the same direction that the Valkyrie did so I could keep her in sight.
Morgan had just rounded a corner when a hand reached out and dragged her into the shadows. I froze behind a tree, wondering if the person who had murdered Jasmine was lurking around the library after all, if he hadn't just taken the Bowl of Tears and left campus like everyone else thought.
But then Morgan let out a giggle and I heard a loud sucking noise. I rolled my eyes. Sounded like Samson had beaten her here already.
"About time you got here."
Sure enough, Samson's voice floated down from the semidark patio to me. I squinted. Thanks to the lights that ringed the library, I could just make out the Viking standing in the shadows.
"Mmm-hmm," Morgan agreed.
There were some more smacking sounds, and then something that sounded like a zipper being drawn down. Morgan giggled once more, and I heard some clothing rasp. A minute later, Samson let out a sharp gasp.
"Ah, yeah, baby. Harder. Harder."
Morgan made some sort of sound in the back of her throat and obliged him.
I winced and resisted the urge to clap my hands over my ears and hurry back to the bonfire. I'd hoped to hear the two of them talking more about Jasmine's death, not listen to Morgan give her secret boyfriend a BJ. Yucko. Big, big yucko-
A shower of what looked like stone chips rained down from one of the library's upper floors, sounding like metal marbles as they hit the patio, but Morgan and Samson were too busy to notice. I moved out from underneath the tree and craned up my neck, grateful for the distraction.
One of the stone statues was closer to the edge than I remembered it being before. As I watched, the statue teetered back and forth before tipping over and starting its inevitable descent downward-where it would land right on top of Morgan and Samson.
"Watch out!" I screamed.
Startled, the two of them broke apart. Samson looked up and saw the statue plunging toward them. He threw himself at Morgan and managed to knock them both forward and out of the way. Behind them, in the spot where they'd been standing two seconds before, the statue hit the stone and shattered into a thousand pieces.
I ran up the closest set of library steps and hurried over. The two of them were sprawled on the patio floor. "Are you guys okay?"
"Get off me," Morgan muttered. "You're wrinkling my new cashmere sweater."
With a grunt Samson rolled off her and into a puddle of light. And I realized that all the clothes below his waist had been pulled down while Morgan had been going about her business. I quickly looked away.
"Um, are you guys okay?" I asked again, totally not looking while Samson got to his feet and stuffed himself back into his pants.
"We were fine, until you showed up, you freak," Morgan muttered.
She got to her feet, dusted herself off, and glared at me. She sniffed, then looked over at the wrought-iron table where she'd put down her drink. The table and her cup had both tipped over during the commotion, and the Valkyrie seemed more upset about her spilled beer than the fact that she'd almost had her brains splattered out of her head.
"What are you doing here anyway?" Samson asked, looking at me with narrowed eyes. "Were you spying on us?"
My mind went blank. "I-"
"She's a Gypsy freak. She's nobody. Who cares what she was doing?" Morgan said. "Let's go. Now. I told you this was a stupid idea anyway. We should have just gone back to the dorms. But no, you're the one who likes to sneak around and do it in public."
Samson snorted. "Oh, like you don't. You practically attacked me in the courtyard this afternoon."
Morgan put her hands on her hips, opened her mouth, and started to let Samson have it. But then the Valkyrie realized that I was still standing there and watching them.
I opened my mouth again to protest that I wasn't a Gypsy freak, that I wasn't a nobody, but Morgan gave me a dirty look, grabbed Samson's hand, and stormed past me, pulling him along behind her.
That hadn't gone well at all. I hadn't heard anything useful, and now the two of them thought that I was some sicko who liked to watch people have o**l s*x. I sighed.
But I pushed my failure and the embarrassment of the last few minutes aside and stared up at the library. As a detective, my mom, Grace, had never believed in coincidences, and she'd taught me not to put much faith in them either. So I couldn't help but wonder how and why that statue had come loose at exactly the moment that Morgan and Samson were standing under it.