Sweet Legacy
Page 85

“Me too,” I whisper as I hug her back.
“There you are,” a familiar boy voice calls out. Milo appears out of the crowd, looking sweaty and scratched, but otherwise okay.
Cassandra pulls away. “You have my number.”
“I do.” I give her a sunny smile. “I’ll call it.”
Then she’s turning and walking away, disappearing into the crowd. I watch until I can’t see her anymore.
“That was,” Milo exclaims, “completely insane.”
“Yeah,” I reply, facing him, “it totally was.”
I take a step toward him. At the same time, he steps closer to me. We wind up an inch apart, staring into each other’s eyes, my silver-gray ones gazing up into his pale green ones. His soft mouth spreads into a wide smile as he lifts his palms to cup my jaw.
“My life isn’t normal, you know,” I say before he starts to lower his head.
“I know,” he replies, his smile growing. “Normal is boring.”
“Good. I just wanted to get that out of the way.”
I drape my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his dark curls. It’s hard to believe we met only a few weeks ago. Then again, it’s hard to believe what a different girl I was when we met.
Some things have stayed the same, though. I still love my family more than anything—there are just more of them to love now. I’m still a computer genius, straight-A student, and all-around good girl. I still have slightly less confidence than I would like, but I’m getting more every day. And Milo’s smile still makes my stomach do little flip-flops of joy.
As Milo’s lips find mine, I tug him even closer.
I hope none of those things ever change.
CHAPTER 35
GRETCHEN
When everyone else is gone—all the friendly monsters, Grace’s folks, and the women of the Sisterhood of the Serpent—the gorgons ask to speak with us privately in front of the door. The boys wait for us in the parking lot to give us time to talk. Sillus races after them and tugs on Nick’s hand, and Nick lifts the furry freak onto his shoulders for a ride. I watch with a smile.
“What’s up?” I ask, turning back to our immortal aunts.
Ursula and Sthenno glance at each other and nod, which makes me nervous.
“You girls did a marvelous job today,” Ursula says. “Far better than we ever dreamed.”
Sthenno smiles. “You made us proud.”
When she says that, I feel myself stand up straighter. It is amazing how powerful and proud that makes me feel. There is more behind her statement than a simple acknowledgment of success. There are thousands of years of expectation and anticipation.
“We have awaited this moment for millennia,” Ursula continues, “to see, if not our sister’s death avenged, then at least proper order restored.”
I can’t imagine what it’s been like. Their sister was murdered, and the killer has been running free, living without guilt while raising troops to kill even more of their family. If something happened to Grace or Greer, I don’t think I would have the patience to wait until some prophesied future date.
They have more patience than I could ever hope—or want—to have.
That makes our victory all the sweeter.
“Us too,” Grace says. “I mean, we haven’t been waiting that long, but . . .”
“We are glad to take over the legacy,” Greer finishes.
Grace gives her a grateful smile.
“Yes,” Ursula says, “taking over. That is what we wish to speak with you about.”
Things will change now. In the short time since I learned about the entire scope of our destiny, about opening the door and becoming the guardians, I’ve never had much chance to think about what would happen after. I was too busy trying to keep my sisters alive, trying to get to this point.
“Now that the battle is over,” Sthenno explains, “you must close the door.”
“Close the door?” Greer tilts her head.
I ask, “How do we do that?”
“It is the same to close the door,” Ursula says, “as it is to open the door.”
Sthenno gestures at the portal. “Now that the seal has been broken, it will require only one sister to perform the ritual.”
Pulling out one of my daggers, I quickly slice the blade over my palms, drawing out thin stripes of blood. I tuck the dagger under my arm and slap my palms together. Just as quickly as it opened, the door swirls shut, contracting like a whirlpool.
“You must always remember,” Ursula says, “to open the door at least once each day. Otherwise it will seal, with all the consequences that accompany a permanent closure.”
Always remember? Why does this sound like some kind of last lecture?
“What do we do when we open it?” Greer asks.
“I have the scanned versions of the monster binders,” Grace says. “Will they help us figure out which ones to let through?”
“Yes, they will help,” Ursula answers. “But you should know by now that the world in which we exist is not black and white. You cannot look in a book to know a creature’s heart.”
I have listened to enough of her lessons over the years to understand her meaning. “We have to trust our judgment.”
“Yes,” she says.
I can feel her pride.
“We won’t be perfect,” I argue.
“Of course not,” she replies. “You are human.”