“Mount Olympus?” I sputter. “As in the home of the gods?”

He nods. Just that. No explanation or insistence or defense of his claim. Just a nod. And that is more convincing than any words.

“Are you—” I begin to ask, but I’m not sure how to phrase the question. “Who are you—? I mean, where do you—?”

“I am a descendant of Themis,” he says simply. “The goddess of law and justice.”

“Themis,” I echo.

I suppose that shouldn’t be any more surprising than the fact that I’m a descendant of Medusa. But Medusa was only a Gorgon, a mortal guardian. Themis is a full-on goddess.

“Is that who sent you to protect me?”

“No. And I can’t tell you who did,” he says before I can ask. “I won’t because it isn’t safe. There are those on both sides of this war who can steal your thoughts, who can enter your mind and uncover your secrets. I cannot risk the lives and immortality of those who dare to help us.”

Us. There is something both reassuring and terrifying about that word. Reassuring, because it means I’m not alone. I know I’m not really alone; I have my sisters and Ursula and Sthenno. But this is something different. Nick is on my side because he believes it’s the right thing to do, not because we’re connected by blood legacy.

Terrifying, because it means there are a lot more people counting on me than I thought.

“Fine,” I say, accepting—for now—that he won’t answer that particular question. I’ve got more. I cautiously ask the next one, hiding my concern. “What do you know about Ursula?”

The sadness in his eyes gives me the answer. “Euryale.” This time he does put his hand on mine. “I know she’s been taken.”

“Where?”

“We don’t know for sure,” he says, still not bothering to explain who we are. “Some believe she is being held in the abyss. Others think she is in the dungeon of Olympus.”

The abyss? I shudder at the thought of her in that dark, dismal place. I’ve never seen it firsthand, but Ursula told me about it. Dark, cold, and permeated by the stench of countless monsters. I can’t stop the mental image of her there. Alone. Surrounded by the monsters she’s spent a very long lifetime fighting to keep contained. I can only imagine—

Nick reaches for my face and I feel his fingertips glide smoothly across the skin beneath my eye. It’s damp with tears.

I pull a hard breath in through my nose and force myself to strengthen up. I need to be strong and clearheaded if I want to help Ursula. She needs me. She’s been there for me from the beginning, without hesitation. I need to be here for her now.

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

It’s after four. I know what it’s going to say before I pull it out. Shrugging off my unexpected emotion—and Nick’s warm fingers—I say, “I’m late.”

“Gretchen, I—”

“Where can I drop you?”

I back out of the parking spot and steer Moira back down the hill. Nick retreats to his side of the car, and I’m glad for the distance. I need the breathing room.

“Are you meeting your sisters?” he asks.

I freeze for an instant, protective instinct taking over. I don’t want him or anyone else involved in this mess to know about Grace and Greer. It’s one thing for me to place my trust in him—if I’ve even decided I can do that—but I won’t put them at risk. Not ever.

“Where can I drop you?” I repeat.

He takes the hint—for once. “Anywhere is fine.”

I pull over in front of a bus stop on Stockton. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, like I can’t wait for him to get out of the car. I’m anxious to see my sisters, to reassure myself that they’re okay. To meet Sthenno and find out what she has to say. And to get away from Nick.

Which in no way explains why, when he opens the door and starts to climb out, I blurt, “We can get together after.”

Why did I say that?

He turns back to face me. From the corner of my eye I can see the barest hint of a smile on his face.

“Want to meet at my place?” he asks, cleverly hiding the smugness I can tell he’s feeling.

I shake my head. His place. That sounds too intimate. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“Okay.” He climbs the rest of the way out of the car, turns back to close the door, and then leans in the open window. “I won’t let you down, Gretchen. I promise.”

I don’t know how to respond to that. I want to believe him, want to give him the trust he’s asking for. But I’m not sure I can. I’m not sure I ever will.

I’m the girl who’s meant to walk alone. Now with sisters at my back. Trusting Nick doesn’t fit the game plan. Does it?

But I can’t stop the longing.

So instead of replying or even acknowledging his words, I release the clutch and drive away.

CHAPTER 7

GREER

When I turn on my phone after school, it immediately pings with a dozen new text messages. Most of them are from Kyle, apologizing for how last night ended. I delete them without responding.

One is from the housekeepers, confirming that their work is done and the house is back to normal except for the door. I have a contractor coming this afternoon to give an estimate for replacing it. I plan on taking my car to a body shop this weekend, which will complete the restoration to pre-attack appearances.