Sweet Legacy
Page 21

“No,” I scream as I stumble to the back of the car and brace myself against my crash into the mirrored wall. “Nick, wait!”
But as I dive back for the door, it slides closed. I try to shove my hands into its path, to find the sensor that will reverse the motion, but I can’t. It crashes shut, and suddenly I’m in the elevator, alone and afraid.
Before I can push a button—before my brain stops freaking out long enough to tell me to push the button for the floor we’re on so I can go back and help Nick—the car starts moving. Up.
“Shoot.”
I stare at the button panel. There are eight floors, with no way of knowing where the elevator will stop. Maybe it’s just another resident in the building. People must call the death trap all the time, right?
But as the elevator slows to a stop on the floor above mine, I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. The door starts lurching open, revealing a tiny sliver of the hallway beyond—just enough for me to see the gang of thugs waiting with their weapons drawn.
Without thinking, I shut my eyes and blink myself out of there.
My thoughts are muddled by the fear and confusion. I’m not thinking clearly as I autoport myself out of the elevator. There isn’t a thought in my brain except for escape. Get away, get somewhere safe. That’s the only explanation I can think of for my popping onto the soccer field at Milo’s school.
Milo is doing ball drills a few feet away.
“Grace?” he asks, blinking as he lets the ball hit the ground.
Shoot, shoot, shoot.
“M-Milo—” Looking around, I’m relieved—beyond relieved—to see no other soccer players on the field. This is bad, but it could have been really bad. “What are you doing here?”
He gives me a look that implies that’s not the most relevant question at the moment. But he answers it anyway.
“Coach wants me to improve my footwork.” He crosses the short distance between us. “What the heck just happened?”
Yep, there’s the relevant question. The one I don’t want to answer.
I shake my head. The reality of the situation rushes in. I don’t have time for this. I can’t afford to have this discussion with Milo right now. I have to get back to the apartment to help Nick.
He just saved my life, and I have to return the favor.
I’ll have to use my hypno-eyes on Milo. It won’t wipe his memory altogether, but it’ll give me a chance to get out of here without answering questions. It’ll give me time to go save Nick.
Maybe when the gorgons are back, one of them can make him forget he ever saw me today. Either that or he’ll act like he never saw me ever. Who wants to date the freak girl with magical powers?
“Did you just materialize on the field?” he asks.
“Milo, I—” This is so hard. “I can’t explain right now. My friend is in danger, and I have to find him fast.”
He studies me for a second.
“Okay,” he says, grabbing the soccer ball off the ground and tucking it under his arm. “I’ll help. I have my dad’s car.”
“You—you’ll what?”
“I’ll help.” He nods toward the street. “Whatever you need.”
I can’t help grinning. “Seriously?”
“Just promise me answers later,” he says.
I can’t believe he’s being so understanding. Maybe he’s in shock. He did just see his—what am I exactly? A girlfriend? A friend? A friend’s sister? Whatever I am—appear out of thin air on a soccer field. He’s entitled to some post-traumatic recovery time.
I follow him to his dad’s car, a little brown thing covered in dirt and rust. He walks around to the passenger side, unlocks the door, and holds it open for me. As I start to move past him to get in, he blocks my path with his forearm.
“But I will want answers, Grace,” he says. “Eventually.”
His dark curls are damp with sweat and his cheeks are flushed pink from his workout. He’s cute and tall and he smells good, even now. He almost makes me wish I were still a normal, ordinary girl.
I duck under his arm and climb into the car without replying.
Either I’ll be able to give him answers or I won’t. As I sink into the ripped plastic seat, I wonder what he would do if I blurted out the truth, right here, right now, every last detail. Probably run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He’s an amazing athlete—he can run pretty fast. He’d dismiss me as the crazy girl who believes in ancient mythology, and he’d be out of my life. Forever.
That thought makes me ridiculously sad. We barely know each other, but I’ve learned enough to really like him. He’s sweet and kind and—apparently—not entirely freaked out by something completely insane. Maybe there’s hope. Maybe I won’t have to get someone with stronger powers to wash the memory right out of his brain.
Maybe I can have the best of both worlds—for once.
He drops into the driver’s seat next to me, jams the key in the ignition, and asks, “Where to?”
Right. Girl on a mission, not girl on a date.
“My apartment,” I say, refocusing my thoughts on Nick and my biological mother. Time is precious. “As fast as you can.”
He shifts into gear, pulls out of his parking spot, and floors the accelerator. I wonder what I’ll find when we get there.
“Can I borrow your phone?” I ask.
He grabs it from the dash console and hands it to me.