Preston opened his mouth to say something else, but I didn't give him the chance. I pressed my advantage, going at him with everything I had, with every sneaky trick Logan knew and a couple of even dirtier ones I'd thought of myself.
On my first blow, I nicked his arm.
On the second, I sliced Vic across his stomach.
And on the third, I knocked Preston's sword from his hand.
Preston bent down, scrambling for his weapon, but I didn't stop my attack. I drew my leg back and slammed my foot into his face. Something crunched underneath my sneaker, and the Reaper screamed.
In another second, it was over. Preston lay sprawled flat on his back on the floor, and I had Vic up against his throat.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Vic crowed, his eye glowing like a purple moon in the shadows.
Vic's voice brought me back to myself, and I blinked a few times. I felt a little dazed and disoriented. Maybe it was because I'd been concentrating so hard on Logan's memories, but even though I'd just been fighting Preston, it was hard for me to remember exactly what had happened, exactly how I'd beaten him.
Preston glared up at me. That eerie, flashing, fiery hate stil burned in his crimson eyes, even though his face was bloody and bruised, and his nose broken. "Go ahead, Gypsy. Kil me. I dare you to."
I moved Vic a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to break the skin on Preston's neck. A single drop of blood rol ed down his throat.
"Do it," he hissed. "Kil me!"
I wanted to-I reAll y, really wanted to. For everything he'd done to me, for how he'd hurt Logan, Oliver, and even the Fenrir wolf. But Preston was injured and unarmed now. He wasn't a threat to me anymore, and kil ing him now would make me no better than he was. Besides, I had a sneaking suspicion of what he reAll y wanted anyway.
"Why?" I asked. "So you can dedicate your death to Loki and make him stronger, right? That's what Reapers do.
They sacrifice other people and even themselves to their god, trying to help him break out of that magicAll prison he's trapped in.
Kind of a whacked out thing to do if you ask me.
I wouldn't want to serve a god like that."
"And it's working, " Preston hissed. "The seals are All but broken, and it won't be much longer before we find the key to unlock the last one. Soon, Loki wil be free, and his Chaos wil reign once more. And when that happens, you wil rue the day you were ever born, Gypsy. You and Nike and All the other members of the pathetic Pantheon." Seals? A key? I didn't know if Preston was spouting totAll bul shit or if he actuAll y knew what he was talking about.
Maybe it was his twisted face, or the red fire flickering where his eyes should be, but a cold shiver slithered up my spine.
"You'd better finish me now, Gypsy," Preston snarled. "Or I'l get free one day, and I'l go kil that doddering old grandmother you love so much."
I'd never known my dad, and I'd already lost my mom to a drunk driver. I couldn't lose my grandma, too. I just-
couldn't. Rage exploded in my heart then-cold, black rage that the Reaper would dare to threaten my Grandma Frost
-and sharp, bitter fear that he might somehow make good on his terrible promise. My whole body vibrated with the force of the two warring emotions. It took a few seconds, but the rage won out.
My hands tightened around Vic, and I pressed the sword deeper into Preston's neck, until his blood looked like crimson teardrops drip-drip-dripp ing onto the concrete floor.
"Come on, Gypsy," Preston muttered. "Do it!" Footsteps scuffed in the sawdust, and Logan limped over to stand beside me.
"Gwen," Logan said in a soft voice. "Gwen." There was no judgment in his voice, no reproach, no condemnation, and I knew the Spartan would go along with whatever I decided to do. If I kil ed Preston, Logan would stand here and watch me do it. And I wanted to do it so badly. My hands trembled from the urge to just end Preston and the threats he'd made against my grandma.
But I didn't want Logan to see me as that kind of person
-someone who could kil in cold blood-and I didn't want to be that kind of person myself. I didn't want to be a monster. For the first time, I truly understood what that was.
I let out a tense, ragged breath and pul ed the sword away from Preston's throat.
"I'm okay now," I whispered. "I'm okay."
Logan reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm glad," he whispered back.
Chapter 23
Scarcely a minute had passed after I lowered the sword before shouts started echoing through the semidark construction site.
"Gwen! Logan! Oliver!"
"Over here!" Logan yel ed back.
A few seconds later, a flashlight cut a bright path through the gloom and landed on my face. I squinted against the harsh glare, keeping my sword and eyes trained on Preston, not daring to let myself be distracted by the fact that we were about to have company. I might not have kil ed Preston, but if the Reaper moved an inch now, I'd cut him and worry about the consequences later.
He'd do the same to me, try to kil me any way he could, no matter what.
Something else Daphne had been right about.
To my surprise, Nickamedes stepped out of the shadows, a sword clutched in one hand and a flashlight in the other. The librarian's black eyebrows shot up at the sight of me standing over Preston, the Reaper's blood covering both of us like we'd been playing paintbAll instead of fighting to the death.
"Are you two All right?" Nickamedes asked, looking at Logan.
"We're fine, more or less," Logan replied. "I've got a bad gash on my thigh, and Gypsy girl's got some bumps and bruises.
What about Oliver?"
Oliver. My breath caught in my throat. I'd been so busy fighting Preston that I'd forgotten about the other injured Spartan
-and the fact that we'd had to leave him behind at the mercy of the Reaper and the Fenrir wolf. Even though I knew it had been the only choice at the time, guilt and shame burned in my heart. If Preston had kil ed Oliver, I didn't know what I'd do.
"Ajax found Oliver and took him to Aurora in the infirmary,"
Nickamedes said. "He should be fine, once she gets that bolt out of his shoulder and stops the bleeding." I let out a breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding in.
Relief fil ed Logan's face. "Good." He looked away from the librarian. "I didn't want to leave him. You have to believe me. I would never leave someone behind. Not again. I wanted to stand and fight."
Misery made Logan's shoulders sag, and his voice was so soft I had to strain to hear it.
"I know you didn't, and so does Oliver." Nickamedes stepped closer to the Spartan and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay. You had me worried, Logan."