"Room 822, here I come," I whispered.
I discreetly trailed Kenzie and Talia back to the hotel lobby and stepped behind a cedar tree, so they wouldn't see me. Oliver was waiting by the main door for them, just like I'd hoped he would be. I needed both of the Spartans to be out of the room while I searched it.
"What took you guys so long?" Oliver asked, frowning.
"We were supposed to leave for the slopes five minutes ago."
I didn't hear Kenzie's reply, but I didn't reAll y need to. I could imagine what he was saying about me right now.
Gwen Frost, that clumsy Gypsy girl. The three of them walked outside and headed toward the alpine vil age. I eased over to the door and peered through the glass. If they were going skiing, I doubted they'd be coming back anytime soon. Good. I turned and headed for the elevators.
Before I went to Oliver's room, I had one more thing to do. I rode the elevator up to the thirteenth floor, went into my own room, and grabbed Vic off the bed. Whether or not Oliver was a Reaper, someone had almost kil ed me four times now, and I wanted to be prepared in case he tried again. Besides, it would be just my luck that Oliver would come back to his room for some reason before I'd found the notebook. Whatever happened, I figured it would be better to have the sword with me than not.
Vic's eye snapped open when I picked up the black leather scabbard with him in it.
"I know that maniacAll twinkle in your eye. You're up to something, Gwen," he said. "What is it? And is there any chance I'l get to kil something today? Like a Reaper, perhaps?"
"If everything goes to plan, then no, you won't get to kil something today," I said, unzipping my hoodie. "But we might be able to catch the guy who's been trying to murder me."
Vic snorted. "Always a bleeding pacifist. Wel , you can wake me if there's any kil ing to be done. Otherwise, I'm going back to my nap."
His eye snapped shut.
I strapped Vic and his scabbard to my waist, then zipped my purple hoodie back up. The fabric came down past my waist, hiding the top half of the sword and Vic's gleaming hilt from sight. The bottom half of the scabbard dangled next to my left leg, but since the jeans I had on were as black as it was, the scabbard wasn't too noticeable.
Besides, All the other kids had packed their weapons, and I doubted anyone would look twice at mine. Stil , if the Reaper did come after me again, maybe he wouldn't realize that I was wearing a sword until it was too late-for him.
I stared at myself in the mirror. Wavy, dark brown hair; winter white skin; a few freckles splashed across my cheeks; purple eyes; and a sword strapped to my waist.
Maybe it was weird, but I didn't feel like I reAll y looked like myself today. Right now, I resembled someone else entirely
-someone strong, someone confident, someone ready to kick a little Reaper ass. I shook my head, and the image and feeling faded, replaced by my same old boring face, wobbly nerves, and twisted insecurities.
But I'd come this far, and I wasn't about to back out now.
Oliver Hector had a secret, and I was going to find out what it was-and why he was trying to kil me because of it.
"Here goes nothing," I whispered to my reflection, and left the room.
I got back in the elevator and rode down to the eighth floor. I stepped outside the doors and stood there a second, listening. The whole floor was quiet, and only the hum of the snack and ice machines interrupted the silence.
Everyone was either stil sleeping off their hangovers in their rooms or out on the slopes enjoying a finAll day of skiing and snowboarding before heading back to the academy. Either way, I wouldn't get a better chance than this.
I strode down the hAll with purpose, like I was supposed to be on this floor, even though it was guys only, a lame attempt by the profs to keep the weekend sex to a minimum. Room 822 was about halfway down the hAll . I slid the key card in the slot, waited for the green light to flash, opened the door, and stepped inside.
Kenzie and Oliver's room was a mirror image of the one Daphne and I were sharing. There was two of everything, from big, soft beds to nightstands to mirrors mounted on the wAll s.
Clothes and shoes were strewn everywhere, and I couldn't tel which side of the room belonged to Kenzie and which side was Oliver's. Jeans, shirts, socks-from the looks of things, the Spartans had brought enough threads with them for an entire week, instead of just a weekend.
And I'd thought Daphne had overpacked.
Since I couldn't tel whose stuff was where, I crouched down by the foot of the bed closest to the door, reached out, and touched the suitcase there. My Gypsy gift kicked in, and an image of Kenzie stuffing clothes into it fil ed my mind. Okay, so this was his side then, which meant Oliver's stuff was piled around the bed closest to the window.
I moved over to that side of the room, picking my way through the piles of crumpled clothes on the floor. Then I bent down and started going through Oliver's suitcase. I used the edge of my hoodie sleeve to flip open the top and peered inside.
Clothes, clothes, and more clothes fil ed the space, along with a couple of pairs of slightly smel y boots.
I went through the suitcase, opening up All the zippered pockets and looking inside. No notebook. I got up and stepped inside the bathroom. A couple of shaving kits sat on the counter, but there was nothing interesting in them, except for the lemon-scented cologne Oliver had in his. It smel ed nice. Certainly better than the Spartan's boots.
Since the notebook wasn't in the bathroom or Oliver's suitcase, that meant it was hidden somewhere in the mess in the rest of the room-if he'd even brought it with him to start with. I hoped he had. Only one way to find out.
I moved from one side of the room to the other, going through All the piles of clothes, Kenzie's and Oliver's alike.
They both had packed plenty of stuff for the weekend, and there were more shirts, shoes, and jeans on one side of the hotel room than I had in my entire closet back at the academy.
"Guys," I muttered. "Why do they have to be so sloppy?"
The minutes ticked by, and I stil couldn't find the notebook. I was beginning to think Oliver had left it at the academy when I untangled the sheets at the foot of his bed as a last resort, thinking he might have scribbled in it last night before he went to sleep.
The red notebook slid out of the sheets and flopped to the floor.
"Jackpot," I whispered.
I used the edge of my hoodie sleeve to pick up the notebook, then sat down on the bed and put it in my lap. It looked the same as I remembered-just an ordinary red notebook with a couple of the metAll rings bent out of shape.
It certainly didn't look like it held anything particularly evil or sinister. But Oliver was hiding something, and this was my best chance of finding out what it was before he tried to kil me again.