The Power
Page 37

I looked down at the textbook I’d swiped from Deacon’s room a few days ago, after we did our daily librarian check. It was Myth and History 101, a true account of their history, which was pretty much a Lifetime movie with cheating couples who were immortal and had superpowers. Every one of the gods pretty much hooked up with anything that walked, and I mean, anything that walked.
Anything.
I shuddered just thinking about the section on my father. Good gods, I was traumatized. Like there had been this nymph who literally turned herself into a tree to get away from Apollo.
Turned. Herself. Into. A. Tree.
Then there was this poor guy who got turned into a bush or something, and that’s not even the worst of it.
Not even.
My father put the “who” in whore.
Speaking of less traumatizing things related to Apollo: he hadn’t shown up since appearing when Seth and I had . . . I cut the thought. There was no news. So no demigod bloodhound, but oddly, I was beginning to be able to sense the difference between pures and halfs. It was something that had started off as a barely noticeable ripple of energy, like a warmth I felt whenever I was around a pure-blood. I didn’t feel it around Luke or Colin or Solos. I’d mentioned it to Laadan and she felt that it was some of my demigod powers starting to kick in, slowly but surely, and she’d said there’d probably be more. Since I was sensing the aether in the pures, I wondered if eventually I would be able to find the other demigods. At this rate, I might have to, since Daddy Dearest was MIA.
The aether-sniffing thing was pretty cool.
But weird, really weird.
Things were rather calm, though. Actually, that wasn’t necessarily true. Things were calm for me. Everyone pretty much gave me a wide berth. Only a few brave souls came around when Colin was hanging out with us. They’d chat with him while trying to inconspicuously stare at me. Other than that, no one really seemed to be all that interested in having a demigod on campus.
What was going down between the halfs and pures, on the other hand, was not calm. From what I gathered there had been no leads on who had killed the half-blood or who had been responsible for the horrific things done to that girl, Felicia. Colin believed that the powers that were—the campus council—hadn’t tried hard even though half of the Council was made up of halfs. It was one of those things you didn’t want to believe, but had to accept as being true, because it was.
There had been two more rallies in the last week, with halfs calling for serious investigations into what was happening at the campus and in other communities. Deacon and I had joined Colin at the last one, and so far everything had remained peaceful. Probably had to do with Marcus and a crap-ton of Guards having been present.
Staring out over the quad, the division between the two sides was painfully obvious.
Since it was actually warm outside—not hot, just warm—a good portion of the school was hanging on the main quad, stretched out under the afternoon sun or playing a really weird version of Frisbee where they weren’t actually touching what looked like a much heavier and dangerous disc.
Halfs were grouped together on the other side of where we sat, closest to the dorms. It was a Saturday, and only a few were in their black training attire.
We weren’t the only ones who had a mixture of halfs and pures. There were other small groups clustered around us that had a mixture. I liked them.
My gaze tracked the silvery disc as it zoomed across the quad. A pure jumped up, throwing his hand out. The disc stopped before it reached his hand. The pure flicked his wrist and it flew back across the quad.
Why couldn’t they just, I don’t know, catch and throw it like normal people? Pain zinged behind my eyes.
Closing my eyes, I rubbed my temples with my fingers. The dull ache that had come and gone every day over the last week was back. You’d think with becoming a demigod I wouldn’t have to deal with things like headaches or periods. That would be nice.
“If you fall asleep again, I’m going to get a marker and draw a mustache on your face,” Luke announced.
Colin chuckled. “I hope that happens.”
“I’m not asleep,” protested Deacon. “I’m being all observant and shit.”
I continued rubbing my temples.
“Observing what?” Luke asked.
He huffed. “Look at me, noticing stuff that a trained Sentinel doesn’t notice.”
“I’m not really a Sentinel anymore,” Luke reminded him.
“Yeah, and I’m really not lying here thinking about getting that bag of weed and smoking it.”
I smiled tiredly.
“You’re always going to be a Sentinel, no matter what you say,” Deacon continued. “Anyway, see the group of pures over there?”
Opening my eyes, I looked over to where Deacon was pointing with his bare feet. There were five of them. All dudes. Two of them were fooling around with the Frisbee disc of doom.
“What about them?” Colin asked, closing his book.
Deacon rolled onto his side and shifted down so his cheek was resting on Luke’s thigh. “They’re up to something. They keep whispering and going over to the red-headed dude.” The redheaded dude was throwing the disc to the blond dude on the other side of the quad. “I’ve been watching them. Each time they throw that damn thing, they’re getting closer and closer to the halfs over there sitting with their backs to them.”
Colin set his book aside and leaned forward, bending one leg. “Good catch, Deacon.”