Rory's parents were dead? When? How?
Before I could look for the answer, Rachel pulled her hand away from mine, and the memories and feelings vanished. I blinked, trying to get my bearings and sort through all of the images and emotions I'd seen and felt at the same time.
I must have had a strange look on my face, because Rachel's eyes narrowed with suspicion. But I gave her a bright smile, paid for my food, and walked over to the table where my friends were sitting. Footsteps smacked on the floor, and Rory hurried up beside me.
"What was that about?" she hissed. "What did you do to my aunt?"
"Nothing," I said. "She didn't feel a thing."
I didn't add that I'd felt everything Rachel was experiencing at the moment, especially her last, strongest emotion - her surprise and happiness that Rory seemed to have a new friend. I wondered what she would think when she realized who I was - and that Rory and I weren't exactly friends.
Rory gave me another suspicious look, but she sat down at the table with us. Nobody said anything, and we all dug into our food.
The bison cheeseburger was surprisingly good. Really, I couldn't even tell it wasn't regular old beef. The meat had a bit of a spicy red pepper seasoning, and the heat pleasantly warmed my mouth. The lettuce and other vegetables had a nice, fresh crunch to them, while the thick layer of mayonnaise on the grilled bun provided a bit of a cool contrast. The fries were hot and crispy, with just the right amount of bacon and melted cheese on them, and the ranch dipping sauce was the perfect blend of creamy tartness. The only thing that was disappointing was the fudge, which was satisfying, but not nearly as rich and sinfully decadent as what Grandma Frost made.
I was so busy stuffing my face that I didn't notice the dirty looks coming our way - at least not immediately.
I was finishing the last bite of my fudge when a surge of emotion washed over me - anger. Hot, burning, sizzling anger. At first, I thought it was directed at me, that there was some Reaper in here, so I turned around in my seat, trying to see who was glaring at me and why. I spotted a group of guys staring at our table. It took me another minute to realize they were actually glaring at Rory - and they weren't the only ones.
We were sitting at a table at the back of the dining hall, but everyone who walked by shot Rory a dirty look. I heard the mutters too.
"Reaper girl . . ."
"Can't believe she came back for another semester . . ."
"Why doesn't she just drop out . . ."
Rory also heard the angry whispers. Her shoulders tensed up, her knuckles went white around her fork, and her gaze flicked back and forth, as though she expected one of the other kids to attack her at any time.
Once again, I had a strange, sick sense of deja vu. The whole thing reminded me of how the kids at Mythos had treated me a few weeks ago, when I'd been falsely accused of being a Reaper, when Vivian had blamed me for all the evil things she'd done - including killing some of our classmates.
Finally, the stares and mutters weren't enough, and a couple of guys approached our table.
"Well, well, well, look who's actually eating in the dining hall for a change," one of the guys sneered.
"Well, well, well," Rory sniped back. "Look who's still failing English lit - and every other class. That would be you, Duke."
Duke's face turned a mottled red with anger. He was a tall guy with a thick, beefy build, the sort who would have played linebacker at my old public high school. He wasn't carrying a weapon, but I got the vibe that he was a Viking from the way he kept cracking his knuckles, as though he was looking forward to driving them through Rory's face. Vikings were strong and had a rep for using their fists to solve problems instead of weapons.
"Yeah, well," he snarled. "I might not be as smart as you, but at least my parents aren't Reapers. At least they didn't go on a killing spree in the library. You can't say the same about yours, though, can you?"
I froze. So did all of my friends. We glanced at each other, then at Rory. Her parents had been Reapers? They'd killed people? On campus?
Well, that would explain why the other students treated Rory like she was no better than the dirt under their boots.
Rory's face was completely blank and closed off as she pushed her chair back and faced Duke. "I've told you before not to talk about my parents."
Duke's hands curled into fists. "I'll talk about them however I want to. And you too, you Reaper bitch."
Reaper bitch.
Those were the same words that had been spray-painted on my dorm room door and walls more than once. They made me see red now, just like they had then. Because I'd learned something when I'd touched Rachel - that she and Rory weren't Reapers any more than I was.
"Hey," I said, pushing my chair back and getting to my feet, as well. "Leave her alone. She wasn't doing anything to you."
Duke looked at me, and he sneered again. "Who's your friend, Rory? I haven't seen her or any of these other losers around before."
"This is Gwen," Rory said in a loud voice, making sure all the kids at the nearby tables heard her. "My cousin. Her dad was a Forseti. My dad's brother, as a matter of fact."
Hatred flashed in Duke's dark eyes. "Oh," he sneered. "Another Forseti. So your dad was a Reaper too, huh?"
Chapter 18
For a moment, the air left my lungs, my vision went dark, and white spots swam before my eyes. The world seemed to grind to a screeching halt before abruptly sputtering back into gear.
My dad had been - he'd been - my dad had been a Reaper?
It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. It just - it just could not be.
Rory looked at me, a mixture of anger and pity in her eyes, and I knew it was true. Every awful word that Duke had said was true. Her parents had been Reapers - and so had my dad.
How long had he been a Reaper? Had he killed people? Had my mom known? Had Grandma Frost known? All of these questions slammed into my mind one after another, the force of them making me wobble on my feet.
"What's the matter?" Duke taunted. "Don't like hearing the truth about your horrible family?"
He stepped toward me, but Rory moved in front of me, blocking him. She lifted her chin and glared at him. Duke sneered at her, and his hand curled into a fist again, as though he was thinking about hitting her.
Another chair scraped back from the table, and Alexei moved in front of both of us.
"That's enough," he said in a chillingly quiet voice. "Walk away."
"Yeah, dude," Oliver said, moving to stand beside Alexei. "Get lost. Now."
Daphne and Carson got to their feet, as well, and Duke realized he was outnumbered. Still, he glared at Rory like he'd love nothing more than to wade through my friends to get to her - and me too.