We stepped onto the porch. The cottage door opened, and Rachel came outside, along with Rory.
I looked at Ajax. "What's going on?"
"Rachel has an extra room, and she offered to put you and Daphne up for the night." Ajax pointed to a similar structure sitting in another stand of trees farther up the hill. "That cottage is empty. The boys and I will stay there. Besides, I thought it would give you a chance to . . . talk with Rachel and Rory. About your father."
Oh. So he knew the whole sad story then. I wondered which one of my friends had spilled the beans to him. I'd told Daphne, who'd no doubt filled in Carson and the others.
"Is that okay?" Ajax asked. "Or would you rather stay with the rest of us?"
I looked at Rachel and Rory. I could feel the curiosity and tension radiating off both of them - and the longing too. "No," I said. "I'd like to stay with them, if it's okay with Daphne."
"Are you kidding?" she said. "Of course I want to stay with them. Um, hello, nice warm cottage, beds, sheets, hot water, and, best of all, no guys around to snore in my ear all night long."
I wanted to point out that Daphne snored louder than a race car revved up in high gear, but I didn't say anything.
We said our good-byes to the guys and watched as they trudged up the hill and disappeared into the other cottage. Then, we shouldered our stuff and moved toward Rachel and Rory's place.
Rachel gave us a bright smile and led us inside. "I'm glad you girls are staying with us. Rory and I don't have much company these days."
"Yeah," Rory sniped. "Funny how your parents turning out to be Reapers totally kills your social life."
Rachel grimaced, but she didn't contradict her niece.
The cottage was as warm and inviting on the inside as it was cute and charming on the outside. Pale green throw rugs covered the hardwood floor, and a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace in the main room. Glass knickknacks gleamed on the tops of the antique tables, while a variety of flowers, vines, and trees had been carved into the heavy wooden furniture.
Photos were also arranged on top of the tables, and I drifted over to get a better look at them. One showed Rory sitting between Rachel and another woman who looked just like them, their arms linked together. That must be her mom. Another photo showed Rory with the same woman and a man I assumed was her dad, since he had the same sandy hair and blue eyes as my dad. Rory was grinning in the pictures, but her parents' smiles seemed sad, just like my dad's had always looked to me.
Rory noticed me staring at the photos. She scowled at me, and I moved away from them.
Rachel showed us where the bathroom was, along with the spare bedroom where Daphne and I would be sleeping.
"Have you guys lived here long?" I asked, putting Vic and my messenger bag down on the bed. "Because it's a really cool place."
Rachel smiled at me. "I had just moved in and started my job as one of the junior chefs when . . ." Her smile slipped, then vanished altogether.
"When my parents went all Reaper in the library," Rory added.
Rachel tried to smile again, but after a moment, she gave up. "Covington was kind enough to convince the Protectorate to let me keep my job so Rory and I could stay on here."
"Yeah," Rory sniped again. "He's a real stand-up guy. He just did that so he could keep an eye on us in case we're Reapers too. Him and the rest of the stupid Protectorate."
Rachel sighed. "Rory, you know that Covington has been nothing but nice to us since . . . everything happened."
Her niece snorted. "Whatever. It doesn't change the fact that he killed them. I don't care how nice he's been - or the fact that you have a massive crush on him."
Rachel's cheeks started to burn. Rory kept glaring at her aunt. After a moment, the Spartan girl shook her head.
"And you can't even deny it. Whatever. I'm going to my room."
She stomped away. A few seconds later, a door slammed deeper in the cottage. Rachel winced, then once again tried to smile - and once again failed.
"Anyway," she chirped in a brittle, too-bright voice. "If there's anything you need tonight, just let me or Rory know. We're right down the hall."
"Sure," I said. "We'll let you know."
She nodded, then hurried out of the room.
For a moment, Daphne and I were silent. Then, the Valkyrie shook her head.
"Wow," Daphne said. "And I thought you were moody. I'd say Cousin Rory has one-upped you in that department, Gypsy. Hello, family drama."
I rolled my eyes, grabbed a pillow off the bed, and threw it at her.
Daphne and I spent the next hour getting ready for bed - showering, brushing our teeth, combing our hair, laying out our clothes, and packing our gear for tomorrow. Once that was done, Daphne said she was exhausted and crawled into bed. Within minutes, she was snoring. So was Vic, whom I'd propped up against the nightstand on my side of the bed. His snores rumbled in time with Daphne's, as though they were competing to see who could be the loudest and keep me awake the longest. So far, it was neck and neck.
Since I wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon, I slid out of bed, grabbed my cell phone, opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway. I called Grandma Frost. She answered on the first ring.
"How are you, pumpkin?"
"I'm fine," I said in a low voice so I wouldn't wake Daphne. "Just a little tired. But I guess that's to be expected. It's been an interesting day."
I told my grandma everything that had happened, everything that everyone had said and done - and all the things I'd learned about my dad.
"Is it true?" I asked, my stomach churning. "Was my dad really a Reaper?"
Grandma didn't answer me for a moment. "Yes and no," she finally said.
"What does that mean?"
She drew in a breath. "It means that your father grew up in a family of Reapers. His father, his mother, his brother. They were all Reapers, and they all embraced the evil that comes along with following Loki. The Forseti family was rather famous for being Reapers - and vicious ones at that."
My hand tightened around the phone. "And my dad?"
Grandma drew in another breath. "Tyr did too - for a while. Then, he met your mother. The Reapers actually sent him to kill her."
"What happened?" I whispered.
"They fell in love," Grandma replied. "Your dad had already started to grow tired of being a Reaper, of the endless battles, the constant fighting, always hurting the people around him. And your mother felt the same way, especially after being Nike's Champion for so many years. So the two of them decided they'd create a new life for themselves - one completely separated from the mythological world. For a while, it worked."