Sweet Venom
Page 65

“What do you mean?” I shake my head. “Out of nowhere?”
“She materialized,” she says. “Gretchen, she autoported.”
Autoported? That must mean— “She has your same gift. She has Euryale’s power.”
A part of me aches at the realization that Ursula has kept this secret from me for so long. How did I not know this? How did I not figure out that she was a descendant just like me? She sees the monsters, used to fight them. I should have guessed. I feel so dumb.
Sillus struggles again. I’m too stunned to deal with it right now.
“Hold on,” I tell Grace.
Reaching down, I grab the little monkey by the scruff of the neck.
“Please,” it begs. “Don’t send me—” When it sees my fangs drop, it sighs. Lifting up its foot, it says, “Fine. Make quick.”
I almost feel sorry for the little monster. With my quick bite to the sole of its foot, it’s gone.
“Okay, Grace,” I say, my attention back on the call, “so Ursula is a descendant too. What else did she—”
“Gretchen,” Grace says, like she’s bracing me for something, “Ursula is Euryale.”
For a second I think I’m going to collapse to the ground. All the air whooshes out of my lungs. I sink to my knees, sitting back on my heels.
“She’s—what?”
“There’s more,” Grace says.
How much more could there be? Not only is my longtime mentor secretly my relative, she’s one of my immortal ancestors.
“Wait, why did she come to you?” I ask. “Why didn’t she visit me?”
“I’m not sure,” Grace says. “At first she called me Gretchen, so she must have been trying to reach you. But I think her situation probably made things more difficult.”
“What situation?” I’m so not used to being the one asking questions of Grace. I’m usually the one with all the answers.
“Gretchen, she’s been taken prisoner.”
I lurch to my feet. “What? Where?” In three quick strides, I’m pulling open Moira’s door and sinking into the driver’s seat. As I turn the key in the ignition, I say, “I’ll pick you up so we can go get her.”
“We can’t,” Grace says. “She says we can’t come get her, but she’s safe.”
There is a hesitation in her voice. “She said she was safe?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t believe her.”
“No, I—” Grace takes a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. She’s trying to protect us, I know. She knew about me and Greer and that we’re all in danger right now.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Those are probably some of the answers she kept promising to tell me. I lean back against the headrest.
“What does she want us to do?” I ask, knowing Ursula wouldn’t go to these measures just to not tell me where she is.
“She wants us to find her sister,” Grace says. “She says we need to find Sthenno.”
Her sister. I already know that from her cryptic note. “How?”
“She didn’t know.” Grace makes a frustrated sound. “They have been out of communication, trying to keep us safe. She only knows that Sthenno is in San Francisco and that she knows me. She told Ursula about me.”
“Do you have any idea who she means?”
“No clue.”
I squeeze the phone. “Then how are we supposed to find her?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
This is a lot to take in. I’m usually pretty steady on my feet, but all this news has me a little shaken.
“And Gretchen,” she says, her voice taking on a sympathetic tone. “She wanted me to tell you she misses you. Terribly.”
I can’t remember the last time I cried. Maybe the time Phil turned his violent anger against Barb and I pleaded with her to leave him. Maybe the night I ran away and found myself alone and scared in that empty warehouse. Maybe my first night in the loft, when I realized I would never be alone and scared again. But there is no mistaking the sting of salty tears in my eyes.
I quickly wipe them away.
“Thanks, Grace,” I say, trying to sound fine. “I appreciate it.”
What I can’t tell her is that I’m relieved to have her on my side. Even if I am scared at the moment, terrified for Ursula and whatever is going on, I know I don’t have to go through it alone.
“No problem,” she says. “Do you need me to come over?”
“Nah,” I say, not wanting her to think I’m as concerned as I am. “I’m out. I’m fine anyway.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but she lets it go. “I should probably get home.”
“Be careful,” I say, meaning it more than ever.
“Yes, boss.”
My finger is shaking as I click off the call.
Why is everything going so wrong so quickly? Two weeks ago, I was totally certain. Ursula was here, I was a runaway with no family, and I hunted monsters—one at a time after dark—to protect the human world from real creatures straight out of Greek mythology. Now Ursula’s imprisoned, I have two sisters and two great-many-times-over-aunts, and the rules I used to know and love have gone to Hades.
And there’s nothing I can do about any of it.
I give Moira’s floorboard a solid kick, like that’s going to solve anything. Exhausted—from the fights and the news and everything just adding up—I’m headed home, pulling out into traffic, when my phone rings again.