If you can use my memories to help you with archery, why can't you use them to help with something else? I know I'm right about this. I'm always right.
Daphne's words whispered in my mind, and I flashed back to that first day in the gym when I'd thought about the Valkyrie, when I'd cAll ed up her memories and used them to put my arrows into the center of the target. I'd done the same thing again on Friday, when I'd flashed on Daphne skiing and used those images to help myself get down first the bunny slope and then the higher ones. A crazy, crazy idea came to me then, a way that I could keep Logan and me from getting kil ed, maybe the only way that I could keep that from happening.
I crouched down in front of Logan. "Listen, we both know that you can't fight Preston with your wounded leg, and I can't beat him by myself. But maybe we can stop him-
together."
"What do you mean?"
I quickly told Logan about this new thing I'd learned how to do with my psychometry.
"So you want to touch me and take my memories of All the battles I've been in and All the weapons training I've had. Then you want to use them to fight Preston yourself?" Logan asked after I explained everything.
I winced. It sounded completely nutso when he said it out loud like that. "More or less."
Logan thought about it a second. "I think that's one of the craziest things I've ever heard-and one of the most bril iant.
Let's do it."
I blinked. "You ... believe me? You reAll y think it wil work?"
"I think you're one of the smartest, bravest people I know,"
Logan said. "I trust you, Gypsy girl. If you think it wil work, then I know it wil ."
Certainty blazed in his ice blue gaze, and his voice rang with an absolute, unwavering trust. The Spartan's rock-steady belief in me, that I could actuAll y use my magic to get us out of this mess, made hot tears sting my eyes.
Emotion clogged my throat, making it hard to breathe. I nodded and stretched out my hand toward his.
Logan held up his own hand, signaling me to stop. He looked at me a second, then gave me a crooked grin.
"Come on, Gypsy girl. I'm bleeding to death here, in case you haven't noticed. At least make it worth my while and kiss me before I die."
Despite the situation, my heart lifted at his words, and I found myself grinning back at him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted that more than anything, especiAll y since this might be the last chance I ever got to do it. But I wanted to make sure Logan knew what he was doing-and what might happen when I touched him.
"Are you sure?" I whispered. "I don't-I don't know what I might see, and I know there are some parts of yourself that you want to stay ... hidden. That you have ... secrets you want to keep to yourself."
Logan nodded. "I'm sure."
I stared at him. "It'l be okay, I promise. No matter what I see or feel. You'l stil be Logan, and I'l stil be your Gypsy girl."
He stared back at me, his eyes as bright as blue stars in his rugged, pain-fil ed face. "I know it wil , Gwen. I know it wil .
Now shut up and kiss me before I pass out."
"Wel , when you put it like that, how can a girl possibly resist?" I quipped back.
Before I could think too much about what I was about to do, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.
Chapter 22
The feelings and images immediately overwhelmed me.
Touching Logan, feeling his skin against mine, flashing on him with my magic. It was All just-just- elec-tric. He was so strong, so ful of life, so fun and crazy and irrepressible. The Spartan's strength flooded my heart and mind, even as his arms crept around my waist and drew me closer. His spirit gave my own new power, energy, and hope.
Logan's lips were firm against my own, and the kiss was everything I'd ever dreamed it would be. Warm, caring, and sexy.
I opened my mouth, and our tongues touched, slowly stroking against each other. For a moment I just let myself enjoy the kiss, just let myself relish the feel of his hot mouth on mine, the feel of his hard, muscled body pressed against mine.
Being this close to Logan made me dizzy and breathless, but I forced myself to focus. I concentrated on the Spartan, going beyond that crazy jumble of desire and longing, and looking for the memories I needed to help us both survive. I could feel Logan concentrating too, trying to cAll up every bit of his fighting and weapons knowledge and bring it to the surface of his mind, so I'd be able to see it, remember it, use it.
My plan worked.
The memories poured into my mind, and hundreds of images flashed by, one after another. Logan using swords, staffs, spears, and weapons I didn't even know the names for. The Spartan sparring with other Mythos students in gym class and almost always winning. Him battling kids outside of the gym, for real, and winning All of those matches, too.
Even Logan fighting the Nemean prowler in the Library of Antiquities the night Jasmine had tried to kil me. Logan's strength roared to the surface then, along with his ferocity and pride at overcoming something as dangerous as the prowler.
It was like a light snapped on inside my head. Suddenly, I saw everything I'd been doing wrong during our mock fights in the gym. All the sloppy mistakes I'd made, All the obvious weaknesses I had, All the easy ways Logan had been able to "kil "
me time after time. And I realized what I had to do to beat Preston, what I had to do to save us both.
I was just about to pul away when the memories of Logan fighting faded away, and a different one popped into my head. I should have ended the kiss then, but I didn't.
Even though I knew it was wrong of me, I stil wanted to see the image. I wanted to know everything there was to know about Logan. I wanted to learn what deep, dark secret he'd been so desperate to hide from me.
In this memory, Logan was a little boy, only around five years old. Even back then, he was cute, with big blue eyes and a tousled mop of black hair. But the memory wasn't a happy one-
not at All . Logan huddled on the floor of a large closet, hidden in the very back, behind a rack of clothes.
Screams sounded just outside the closed door, and shadows twisted and writhed on the other side of the wide slats. Logan clutched a smAll metAll sword in his hands, but he wasn't using it.
He wanted to, though. The urge to run out of the closet made his heart pound, but he was so afraid of the screams, so scared of the shadows, that he felt frozen in place.
The image abruptly shifted and bled into another memory.
Logan stood over two bodies, a woman and a girl who was a few years older than he was. His mother and his sister, a voice whispered in my mind. They were dead, their throats cut, and blood covered the floor All around them, coating their faces. So much blood. Logan stil clutched his sword in his hand. Angry, he threw it away, then lay down in between his mother and sister, not caring that he was getting their blood All over him. Tears streaked over his smAll , pale face, and then, he started to scream.