If I'd had any doubt before, now there was none, because I knew that voice. Knew exactly who it belonged to. The last time I'd heard it she'd been laughing out on the academy quad, the day this whole thing had started.
The figure reached up and pushed back the hood of her cloak. Strawberry-blond hair, blue eyes, perfect skin, gorgeous face.
I once again found myself staring at Jasmine Ashton-only this time, she was as alive as I was.
Chapter 20
Nobody ever really dies in a comic book, not even the bad guy. At least not for long.
The words that I'd spoken to Logan last night whispered in my mind, mocking me as I stared at Jasmine. Because the girl standing in front of me was definitely not dead. My eyes fell to her throat, which was just as smooth as mine. Nope, definitely not dead. I had a feeling the same wouldn't be said about me, though, before the night was through.
"You're-you're alive," I finally said.
The Valkyrie let out a soft giggle that bounced off the library walls. "So I am, Gypsy. So I am. Be a good girl, go stand next to Morgan, and I'll explain it all to you. The only problem with plans like this is that there's never anyone around to gloat to."
My eyes slid past Jasmine to the open door at the far end of the stacks, as I wondered if I could run past her and sprint out it before she, oh, I don't know, killed me until I was dead, dead, dead. But the prowler saw what I was looking at and let out another evil hiss.
I wet my lips. "Is that thing an illusion? Like the one last night was?"
Jasmine walked over and put her hand on the creature's back, stroking its black fur. The prowler's bloodred eyes brightened, and it let out a little purr of pleasure that made me wince.
"Oh no, Gypsy. This prowler is very real. But it wouldn't really matter, either way. Illusions can tear you to shreds just as much as real teeth and claws can."
Daphne had said something similar to me outside the library last night, but I hadn't quite believed her. How could something that wasn't even real hurt you? But I was beginning to realize there was a lot about myths and magic that I just didn't understand.
I didn't have any choice but to do what Jasmine told me. Otherwise, the prowler-real or illusion-would rip me to shreds, something that I desperately did not want to happen. So I walked down an aisle and rounded the corner, stepping into the main, open part of the library.
Morgan stood to my left in the same spot where the glass case had been that had once housed the Bowl of Tears. The Artifact that had supposedly been stolen the night Jasmine had supposedly died.
The Bowl that Morgan was now holding.
It looked the same as I remembered it. Small, round, brown, plain. A simple bowl with no paint, carvings, or extras of any kind on it. No gold, no jewels, nothing. Still, just looking at it tonight made me sick to my stomach. I didn't always have to touch an item to get a vibe off it. If an object had enough emotion tied to it, had enough memories embedded in it, then it could radiate those feelings, sort of like an aura. Like Daphne and her sparking pink fingers.
And tonight the Bowl radiated cold, black evil.
"Stop," Jasmine said.
The prowler hissed in time to her command.
I paused where I was, next to one of the study tables. A couple of books lay on the edge of the table, the ones that Nickamedes had come out of the stacks with earlier today. For whatever reason, the librarian hadn't put the books away. I leaned back against the table and casually put my hand on the top one. I got the same vibe that I always did off the library books-one of old knowledge. It wasn't much and it certainly wasn't a weapon, but it was something at least. I'd take every little thing I could get right now, starting with an explanation.
"So you faked this whole thing," I said, turning to face Jasmine. "The theft of the Bowl, your body, all the puddles of blood. All of it was just an illusion, right?"
"Well, well, well," Jasmine said. "The Gypsy has a brain after all. You're right, of course. I faked everything you saw that night, and a lot of stuff since then."
Jasmine moved past me to where Morgan stood, still staring blankly ahead. The prowler paced around the library tables, moving back and forth and weaving through them like they were some sort of giant kitty-cat obstacle course. But the creature never took its red eyes off me, not even for a second.
Jasmine stopped in front of Morgan, staring at her best friend, hate burning in her blue gaze. The Valkyrie reached up and plucked the homecoming queen tiara off Morgan's head. Morgan stared straight ahead, no emotion flashing on her face, no sort of acknowledgment of what was going on flickering in her hazel eyes at all.
I'd been right when I'd thought that Morgan had been possessed. Jasmine was using the Bowl of Tears to control her best friend. For the first time, I noticed there was something in the Bowl that Morgan was holding-something dark, red, and sticky looking. Blood.
"How did you do it?" I asked. "How did you get Morgan's blood in the Bowl? I know you had to do that, had to drip her blood into it and chant some kind of magic mumbo jumbo. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to control her the way that you are."
Jasmine kept staring at the crystal crown in her hands. "Oh, that was actually the easiest part. There was a blood drive on campus a couple of weeks ago. Morgan and I both gave blood. It was easy to swipe the bag with hers in it when the nurse wasn't looking."
Geez, what was she? Some kind of freaking criminal mastermind or something? Because that's not something I would ever think to do, especially not to my supposed best friend.
Jasmine turned the tiara this way and that, watching the crystals catch the light and wink it back at her. She scraped her nails against it, and ugly red sparks flickered in the air around her. Then, the Valkyrie snapped the crown in two with her hands. Crystals zipped through the air, and I flinched at the sharp cracks they made as they hit the marble floor.
"I always wondered what it would be like to be homecoming queen with Samson by my side," Jasmine murmured. "I hoped you enjoyed it, Morgan. Because it's the last thing you're ever going to enjoy."
Jasmine took one end of the splintered crown and raked it down Morgan's face, drawing blood. Then, the Valkyrie twisted the pointed end, digging it into her best friend's skin that much more. Red sparks winked around the two of them like fireflies, flashing on and off, warning of danger, hate, death.
I bit back a scream and started forward to try to do something to help Morgan. But the prowler let out a warning growl, and I stopped where I was.
It didn't matter anyway, because Morgan didn't move a muscle. She didn't flinch, scream, or even cry out in pain. It was like she was a lifeless doll, frozen in place. I wondered if she even felt Jasmine shredding her face with the crown, or if her mind was gone forever.