Thinking about Vivian, Preston, and the other Reapers made anger bubble up in my chest, burning away my melancholy. But the truth was that I wasn't just angry at the Reapers - I was pissed at Logan too.
I knew that he had felt he had to leave Mythos, that he thought he couldn't trust himself not to hurt me again, that he needed some time to sort out everything that had happened. In my head, I knew that. But in my heart, it felt like he'd abandoned me - like he'd left me to fight the Reapers and face the nightmares alone.
I let out a bitter laugh. Maybe I wasn't angry so much as I was jealous. Because if I never saw another Reaper again, it would be too soon. But there was nothing I could about that - or anything else.
Nothing at all.
So I slid the photo of me and Logan into the frame, then hugged the silver to my chest, as though it would ease my anger, as though it would soothe the hollow ache inside me, as though it were a shield that would protect me, as though the small bit of metal would keep my heart from breaking any more than it already had.
It didn't, of course, but at least I felt that I could breathe again and that the walls weren't closing in on me. So I sat there on Logan's bed, holding the photo of us, for a while longer.
Chapter 3
I made it back to my dorm right before the ten o'clock curfew, but I didn't sleep much that night. Every time I started to drift off, I would jerk awake, worried that I'd have another nightmare about Logan and the Reapers. Finally, I gave up trying to sleep, wrapped myself in my comforter, curled up in the padded window seat, and stared out into the dark of the night. That way if Vivian and the rest of the Reapers attacked, at least I'd see them coming.
But no Reapers appeared, the sun came up, the way it always did, and I had to face another day.
Weapons training with my friends Oliver and Kenzie in the gym. Morning classes. Lunch with Oliver and Alexei. Afternoon classes. A quick visit off-campus to see my Grandma Frost. Same-old, same-old, right up until it was time for me to go work my shift at the Library of Antiquities.
Normally, I would have been sprawled across my bed, reading through my latest stash of comic books and eating some sinfully sweet treat that Grandma Frost had baked for me. But right now, I was in another dorm room, one where the walls, the ceiling, and the curtains were all pink. I shifted on the bed, wrinkling the comforter, which was also, you guessed it, pink. Sunlight streaming in through the lace curtains slanted across the bookcase in the corner, highlighting the volumes there. Even her myth-history books had pink covers on them. How had she managed that?
I didn't consider myself a tomboy, but I certainly was no girly-girl, and being around so much pink made me a little queasy. If I didn't have nightmares already, I certainly would now. No doubt the next time I dreamed about Logan killing me, he'd be wearing a pink leather jacket. I snorted at the thought.
A pair of fingers snapped in front of my face, followed by a shower of princess pink sparks. I jerked away from the explosion of magic and looked up to find Daphne Cruz standing in front of me, her hands on her hips and her foot tapping out a quick rhythm on the pink rug on the floor.
"Gwen? Are you even paying attention to me?"
"Sure," I said in a bright voice. "I was just waiting for you to try on the next dress."
Daphne's black eyes narrowed, and more sparks shot out of her fingertips. Like all Valkyries, Daphne always gave off more magic whenever she was angry, upset - or aggravated, in this case, by me and my complete lack of fashion sense.
She'd asked me over here to help her pick out something to wear for a big date that she had planned for next weekend with her boyfriend, band geek Carson Callahan. I'd been sitting on Daphne's bed for the last hour, watching her try on dresses, sweaters, and the occasional pair of pink designer jeans, all with matching purses, jewelry, and other accessories.
"Well?" she demanded. "What do you think of this one?"
She twirled around, causing her blond hair to dance around her shoulders and the short skirt on her pink dress to swirl out around her legs. The rich color of the fabric made me long for some of Grandma Frost's homemade strawberry ice cream.
"Um . . . it's very... pink?"
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Of course, it's pink. Is there any other color? But do you like this pink dress better than the raspberry one I tried on a minute ago? Or what about the cotton candy skirt I showed you before that? I think I have a bubblegum sweater in my closet somewhere too . . ."
Daphne stalked over to her closet and started grabbing even more clothes out of the depths, tossing them aside until she found the ones she wanted. With her great Valkyrie strength, the garments flew all over the room, landing on the bookcase, the TV, and even on the computer monitors, servers, and hard drives on her desk that she loved to tinker with in her spare time.
I ducked down just in time to avoid getting hit in the face by a baby pink turtleneck. Desperate, I glanced at Vic for help, since I'd propped him up on the bed when I'd first come into the room. But the sword's mouth was open, and he was snoring softly. Vic wasn't into fashion any more than I was. I'd brought Nyx along too, and the wolf pup was crouched down on the floor on the far side of the room, getting ready to pounce on a stuffed Hello Kitty that was propped up against the bottom of one of the bookcases. Even the plush toy had on a pink dress.
"There it is!" Daphne said, stepping away from the closet, a pale cashmere sweater in her hands. "What do you think about this?"
She held the sweater up over the dress she was wearing, and the color made her amber skin seem even lovelier than usual.
"I like it," I said. "It's very . . . pink."
I winced again, but Daphne beamed at me.
"It is one of my favorite sweaters," she said, holding it up to her chest again and admiring her reflection in the mirror over her vanity table. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before. Thanks, Gwen."
"Sure. No problem."
"And I'm sure it will be just perfect for the restaurant where Carson is taking me."
"Yeah. Perfect."
Daphne must have picked up on my less-than-enthusiastic voice because she abruptly spun back around to face me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about Carson and some stupid date that he's taking me on. Not with Logan..."
Her voice trailed off, and this time, she winced.
"Not with Logan gone," I finished.
"I'm sorry, Gwen. This was a dumb idea, wasn't it? I just wanted to cheer you up - "
I held up my hand, cutting her off. "No, it's fine. Just because Logan isn't here doesn't mean that life doesn't go on. That we don't go on. I'm glad that you and Carson are so happy together. And coming here today helped take my mind off . . . other things."