Unlike the other kids, Logan Quinn didn't carry a weapon with him. Neither did the rest of the Spartans I'd seen. They didn't need to. One of the things that Spartans were known for was their ability to pick up any weapon-or any thing-and automatically know how to use and even kill someone with it. Seriously. Logan Quinn was the kind of guy who could stab me in the eye with a freaking Twizzler.
Sometimes, I didn't know if I really believed all the crazy stuff around me. Like Spartans and Valkyries and Reapers. Sometimes, I wondered if I was stuck in an insane asylum somewhere, just dreaming all this. Like Buffy. But if that was the case, you'd think that I would be having a better time, that I'd at least imagine myself to be one of the popular Valkyrie princesses or something-
Logan reached for one of the Wonder Woman comics that had been in my bag. The motion snapped me out of my daze.
"Give me that!"
I snatched the comic book up off the grass. I didn't want Logan Quinn contaminating my things with his scary, Spartan, psycho-killer vibes, which could happen if he touched them. That's how objects got emotions attached to them in the first place-by people touching and handling and using them over time. I stuffed the Wonder Woman issue deep into my bag, along with all the others and the empty cookie tin, which was shaped like the chocolate-chip treats it had once held.
Logan raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything at my obvious freak-out.
"Sorry I ran into you," I muttered again, getting to my feet. "Don't kill me, okay?"
Logan also stood, and this time his mouth lifted up into something that almost looked like a smile. "I don't know," he murmured. "Gypsy girls make for awful easy killing. Wouldn't take but just a second."
His voice was deeper than I'd thought it would be, with a rich, throaty timbre. Startled, I looked up and stared into his face-and spotted the amusement sparkling in his icy gaze.
My own eyes narrowed. I didn't like being made fun of, not even by a dangerous bad boy like Logan Quinn. "Yeah, well, this Gypsy girl happens to have a grandma who can curse you so bad that your dick will turn black and fall off, so watch your step, Spartan."
That wasn't true, of course. My Grandma Frost saw the future. She didn't curse people-at least, not that I knew of. It was hard to tell with Grandma sometimes. But there was no reason for Logan Quinn to know that I was bluffing.
Instead of being intimidated, his mouth made that smiling motion again. "I think I'd rather watch you walk away, Gypsy girl."
I frowned. Was he-was he actually flirting with me? I couldn't tell, and I didn't want to stick around to find out. Keeping one eye on Logan Quinn, I carefully skirted around him and hurried on my way.
But for some reason, his soft laughter followed me all the way across the quad.
I left the smooth, grassy quad behind, strolled by the dorms and other smaller outbuildings, and walked to the edge of campus, where a twelve-foot-high stone wall separated Mythos Academy from the outside world. Two sphinxes perched on top of the wall on either side of the entrance, staring down at the black iron gate that lay between them.
Supposedly, the wall and the gate were enchanted, imbued with spells and other magic mumbo jumbo so that only people who were supposed to be at the academy-students, teachers, and the like-could pass through. When I'd come to Mythos, at the beginning of the fall semester, Professor Metis had made me stand in the entrance right between the two sphinxes while she'd said a few words in a low voice. The statues hadn't moved, hadn't blinked, hadn't done anything but sit on their high perches, but I'd still felt like there was something inside the stone figures-some old, ancient, violent force that would rip me to pieces if I so much as breathed wrong. That had been the first creepy thing that I'd experienced at Mythos. Too bad it hadn't been the last.
After Metis had finished her chant, spell, or whatever it had been, she'd told me that I was now free to enter the academy grounds, like I'd been given the password to the supersecret Fearless Five superhero lair or something. I didn't know exactly what would happen if someone who wasn't supposed to be at the academy-like, say, a Reaper bad guy-tried to slip through the gate or climb the wall, but surely those sphinxes and their long, curved claws weren't just for decoration.
I wondered about a lot of things that I would have been better off forgetting about entirely.
Metis had also told me that the sphinxes were only designed to keep people out-not trap students inside-and that I shouldn't be afraid of them. It was kind of hard to be afraid of something that you didn't really believe in. At least, that's what I kept telling myself every time I snuck off campus.
I glanced around to make sure no one else was in sight, then jogged up to the gate, turned sideways, sucked in my stomach, and slipped through one of the gaps in the bars. I didn't look up at the sphinxes, but I could almost feel their watchful eyes on me. They're just statues, I told myself. Just statues. Ugly ones at that. They can't hurt me. Not really.
A second later, I slid free of the bars to the other side. I let out a breath and kept walking. I didn't turn around and look back at the statues to see if they were really watching me or not. Whether I believed in the sphinxes' magic or not, I knew better than to tempt fate.
Students weren't supposed to leave the academy during weekdays, which was why the gate was shut. Professor Metis and the other Powers That Were at the school liked all the warrior whiz kids to stay close by so they could keep an eye on them, at least during school nights.
But I'd been sneaking out ever since I'd gotten here two months ago, and I'd seen other kids do the same, usually on beer or cigarette runs. What was the worst they could do to me? Kick me out? After all the freaky stuff that I'd seen here, I'd be thrilled to go back to public high school. I wouldn't even complain about the crappy cafeteria food-much.
Mythos might be its own little world, but what lay beyond the wall was surprisingly normal, since Cypress Mountain was a charming little suburb in its own right. A two-lane road curved around in front of the school, and a variety of shops clustered on the other side, directly across from the imposing spiked iron gate. A bookstore, some coffee shops, several high-end clothing and jewelry boutiques, even a car lot full of Aston Martins and Cadillac Escalades. And, of course, a couple of upscale wine stores that helped the academy kids party hard, despite the supposed campus ban on alcohol.
The shops were all located here to take advantage of the limitless credit cards and enormous trust funds of the Mythos students. Apparently, the gods and goddesses had all rewarded their mythological warriors with sacks full of gold, silver, and jewels back in the day and the various descendants of those warriors had kept the gravy train of wealth going, adding to their bank balances over the years, which was why all the kids at the academy were so loaded today.