Reborn Series Box Set (Books 1-3.5)

by S. L. Stacy

  A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe.”

  “Well…stop it,” I tell him, arms crossed. I can handle a lying, manipulative Jasper. Even if it means I can’t completely trust him, at least I know what to expect. An easy-going Jasper, being playful and making jokes—even lame ones—is not compatible with my worldview.

  “Okay,” he says with a grimace. “Sor-ry.” His eyes leave me, fixing on the book-strewn couch. “What’s all this?”

  “They’re called books.”

  “Go easy on the sarcasm. You’re the one who asked me over here, remember? And I have something you desperately need.” A satisfied smirk on his face, Jasper plunks down on the couch, picking up a book—I think it’s the one with the composites—and casually rifling through it.

  I sigh, trying to reign in my sudden irritation. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what my problem is. Stress, I suppose.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “And before, I didn’t mean that I didn’t have faith that you’d come,” I continue, leaning against the arm of the couch. “I had some doubts, but mostly because I wasn’t sure if you’d even check your email tonight, and I didn’t know how else to contact you. Or you could have been busy doing work, or out with friends.”

  At this, Jasper finally lifts his gaze from the book. “I don’t really have…friends.” He says the last word as though it leaves a bitter taste in this mouth.

  “Oh, come on. Everybody has friends. What about your Sigma Iota brothers?”

  “I wouldn’t really call them friends. They’re more like…minions. I either have minions or mortal enemies. That’s it. No friends.”

  “Then what does that make Siobhan?”

  Jasper thinks about this, flipping through the photographs again. “She gets a category all to herself, I suppose.”

  “What does that make me?”

  He glances up, flashing me a smile so brilliant I feel like I’m looking up at the sun. It’s a genuine smile for once, without a trace of his usual arrogance, and for a moment I understand what Siobhan might actually see in him—you know, beyond the perfect face, perfect hair and perfect…well, everything. “A mortal enemy, although that might change after tonight.”

  “So, did you bring it?” I ask him, moving a few books to the floor so that I can sit next to him. Staring down at the page he’s opened to, he doesn’t answer me right away, and when he does, it’s nothing about the starflower pollen I asked him to bring.

  “She looks like you,” he tells me, holding the book up to show me the page I marked a few hours ago.

  “I know.” I take the book from him, running a hand over the glossy, black-and-white photograph. “That’s my grandmother.” According to the caption, it was taken in 1951 at Windsor College. “I knew she had gone to college—she taught elementary school for a long time—but I didn’t know she was a Gamma Lambda Phi.”

  “Are you sure it’s her?”

  I nod, pointing to the list of names underneath the picture. “Darlene Kasun. That was her maiden name.” After studying it for a few more seconds, I shake myself, closing the book and setting it on the coffee table. “Sorry if I’m being weird. I was just shocked when I found it. I’m not sure why. It’s probably nothing…a coincidence. She wouldn’t have known what Gamma Lambda Phi really was. Right?” For some reason, I look to Jasper for reassurance. He shrugs.

  “Probably not. But since you’re a halfling, it’s likely your grandmother was, too, even if she didn’t know it. Perhaps the same thing that drew you to Gamma Lambda Phi attracted her, too. On some level, you both knew.” He leans back into the couch, looking thoughtful. “But you’re asking the wrong person. You should talk to Victoria about it.”

  “I would, but I don’t know where she is,” I admit reluctantly. “She was supposed to meet me back here earlier, but she never showed. I haven’t seen or heard from her in hours.”

  “Your sorority should really start adopting some sort of buddy system.” Although his words are light, Jasper’s already pale face has become even more ashen. “What about dear old house mom?”

  “She’s out of town.”

  “Did you try calling her?”

  “No,” I sigh, feeling a little silly. Although I’m not sure Victoria’s mysterious absence requires an emergency phone call—yet—an update is probably warranted. “I’ll call her later. I promise.”

  “You’re going to want to after what I’m about to tell you.”

  I shoot up straight in my seat, gaping at him. “You have information for me?” Why the fudge didn’t he lead with that?

  He nods. “But first, as promised…” Trailing off, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small, glass vial filled about a quarter of the way with a very fine, pale orange powder.

  “The starflower pollen,” I breathe, extending a hand toward it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

  “Not so fast,” Jasper cautions, pocketing it again. “Tell me what this has to do with the antidote. And what you’re going to give me in exchange.”

  I drop my hand, my initial excitement fizzling. “This was supposed to be a favor, not a trade. Can’t you just give it to me out of the goodness of your heart?”

  “Oh, so now you think I have a heart. If you’re having trouble coming up with a fair price, I have some ideas.”

  “How do I know you’re really Jasper?” I ask him, suddenly suspicious.

  “How do you…what?” He squints at me. “Who else would I be?”

  “You asked what this had to do with the antidote.” Pausing, I get up and retrieve the piece of parchment with Dolos’s riddle from my purse. I hand it to Jasper and give him an abbreviated version of what transpired at The Midnight Shoppe. “So, you can see why I might be a little suspicious as to your real identity.”

  “Wait, you think I’m Dolos? I’m definitely not Dolos,” he insists, looking almost offended.

  “Yeah, but how do I know that?”

  “Well, I don’t think Dolos would tell you that Eric’s army is planning to invade Olympus at dawn.”

  “I don’t know. That sounds exactly like the kind of thing he might say to get me to trust him. I mean you. Him pretending to be you.” Then, the immediacy of what he’s just said hits me. “Wait. They’re invading at dawn? As in, like”—I glance at the clock—“eight hours from now?”

  Jasper nods. “They’re meeting at some clearing to open a portal and crossing over from there. I’m not sure exactly what that means or where it is, though.”

  “I think I know,” I tell him, remembering the forest clearing where they brought the weapons over. “Fudge. We have to stop them.”

  “You might want to get cracking on this, then,” says Jasper, waving the parchment in the air. “Unless you’re planning to stop them single-handedly.”

  “That’s just the thing, though. I don’t know what most of it even means. I think I figured out the starflower pollen thing, but I’m not even sure if I’m right about that.”

  “It makes sense,” he assures me, skimming the recipe again. “In addition to its more…infamous properties, the starflower produces chemicals that are used as painkillers.”

  “Oh. Well, that makes me feel a little better. So, what does the rest of it mean?” I wonder, leaning over to study it with him.

  Jasper shakes his head. “Not sure. I know what asphodel is, but you’re not going to find any around here. It only grows in the Underworld,” he explains, handing the scroll back to me. I roll it up, feeling defeated. I guess that’s what Dolos meant when he said it was an impossible list.

  “So, do you still think I’m Dolos?” Jasper gives me a challenging look. I meet it head on, refusing to second-guess myself.

  “I still think you could be.”

  “I’m not! I know you probably have a hard time trusting me, but you can at least believe that. Why would I have told you when the army was going to strike? And why the hell would I have handed over the starflower po
llen?”

  “To trick me into believing you. If you’re not Dolos, it should be easy enough for you to prove.”

  Jasper works his jaw, for once seeming at a loss for words. “I can’t prove it. I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that will convince you I’m really Jasper. You’re just going to have to trust me, Carly. You have to trust someone.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I snap, getting angrily to my feet. “I can’t trust anyone right now.”

  “You’re being ridic—” An insistent mew from the ottoman cuts Jasper off, and we both look over in time to see the cat—who, up until now, I had completely forgotten about—leap toward the couch, drawing a black arc through the air before coming to land gracefully on Jasper’s lap.

  “Where did this creature come from?” he wonders, recoiling as the cat sits back on her haunches, yellow-green eyes peering up into his face. He makes a shooing motion with his hands. “Away with you, tiny beast. Away.”

  I really don’t want to laugh, but a giggle slips past my lips as I watch him try to disengage the cat, who’s got her claws in the material of his expensive-looking pants. “I guess this means you’re not a cat person.”

  “Get—ow!” Jasper cries as the cat squirms out of his grip. “Stop it. These are Ralph Lauren…” Using both hands, he finally lifts her off of his lap, holding her up to his face. “Wait a minute. I’d recognize that condescending glare anywhere. Apate?”

  “Meow,” the cat says. I could swear she’s nodding her head.

  “That’s Apate?” I rejoin Jasper on the couch. “As in Dolos’s sister? Are you sure?” Even as I’m asking it, I already believe him. She’s way too expressive for a normal cat. And I thought those radiant green eyes looked familiar.

  “Positive. Eric must have done this to her. Did Eric do this to you?” he asks her in a more affectionate tone, touching her wet-looking, pink nose with his own. She gives another meow, then wriggles in his arms, signaling that she wants to be put down. Jasper sets her in between us. She looks from me to Jasper and back to me again, a meaningful glow in her eyes, all the while meowing almost in frustration.

  “I think she’s trying to say something.” I glance at Jasper. “I think she’s trying to tell me you are who you say you are. She knows her brother, and you’re not him.”

  “You’re going to believe a…” Jasper trails off, thinking better of whatever he was about to say. “Never mind. I’ll take it.”

  “So. Getting back to negotiations. You said there was something you wanted,” I remind him.

  “That’s right.” He pauses rather dramatically, holding my gaze. I sigh impatiently. “In exchange for the starflower pollen, I want the Pandora jar. It only makes sense,” he continues before I can say anything. “You said Victoria was hesitant to risk rescuing Siobhan. So leave that to me. Using the jar, I’ll get Siobhan back to us, and you can concentrate on changing the others back and…well, everything else.”

  “I like that plan,” I confess, nodding enthusiastically.

  Jasper’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

  “Really. It just has one flaw. I have no fudging idea where the jar is. I swear,” I add when Jasper’s expression turns suspicious. “Farrah thought it was too dangerous to keep in the house, so they moved it. I would assume to a more secure location, but I have no idea where that could be. I’m really sorry.”

  After studying my face in silence for a few eternal seconds, Jasper slumps back into the couch, relenting. “It’s okay. I know you’re telling the truth.”

  “Maybe I can’t give you the jar right now, but I promise you that, once I find Victoria and Farrah gets back, I’ll find out where it is and get it to you.” Jasper gives a small jump when I place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise.”

  After another lengthy pause, Jasper takes the vial of orange powder back out and hands it to me. “I’m holding you to that promise, Carly. Don’t think that I won’t.” I think it’s supposed to be a threat, but there’s not a lot of conviction behind his words.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I tell him as I close my fingers around the cool, slippery glass. “And thank you.”

  “You’re in love with him.” Jasper’s comment comes out-of-the-blue as I’m walking him to the door, catching me off guard.

  “With who?” I ask, confused.

  “Dolos. I could see it in your eyes when we were talking about him.”

  “I thought I was,” I admit softly, reaching past him to open the door. “Until he…you know. Started trying to screw me over.”

  “If it’s any consolation, Eric is very persuasive, to say the least,” Jasper says. “He knows just what to say to a person to get them to do whatever he wants. He ruins lives. And relationships.”

  “Thanks for saying it. But I’m not making excuses for him. There’s always a choice. He made the wrong one.”

  Jasper shrugs ruefully before stepping out into the crisp, autumn night. “Just promise me one more thing.” His voice is low, tinged with sadness, when he continues, “Don’t give up on him just yet.”

  I don’t know what to say to his final request, so I just nod silently, unable to bring myself to tell him that I think I’ve already given up on Dolos.

  Chapter 12

  Chin held high, face set in a solemn, don’t-screw-with-me expression, I walk Shadesburg’s back streets with purpose, comforted by the weight of the dagger pressing against my thigh. I have this vision of myself slinking ninja-like through the night, outfitted with deadly weaponry, ready to kick some Olympian butt and save the day.

  One glance down at the black fanny pack clasped around my waist, bouncing in time with each brisk step I take, brings my ego down a few notches. I thought bringing a purse or backpack would get too cumbersome, and it was the only lightweight thing I could find in the closet to carry my cell phone, Thurston ID card, some emergency money, a miniature, neon pink flashlight and the vials of ambrosia and starflower pollen. Again, I was going for practical, at the expense of looking more like Super Dork than Super Girl.

  A fine mist still hangs in the air, the full moon a pale eye keeping watch from the jet black sky. Occasionally, a shock of wind cuts through my clothes and tosses my curly ponytail around. The neighborhoods are quiet and dark, the street ahead of me illuminated only by the moon and the occasional sweep of headlights. Apate keeps pace beside me, well-camouflaged except for her eyes, piercing the dark like two tiny, yellow-green stars.

  Inside the fanny pack, the sound of a doorbell chimes. A text. I hope it’s from Farrah. Before leaving the house, I did as Jasper suggested and called our house mother. She didn’t answer, so I tried texting her instead: Trouble. Victoria missing. Army invading O. at dawn. Come home ASAP.

  I take out my phone, pausing to read her reply. Got it. Coming home tonight.

  Then, a second later, she adds: Bad storms here. Lots of delays. But we will get the soonest flight we can.

  Sighing, I put the phone away and resume walking. I have a sinking feeling that more sinister forces than Mother Nature are behind the “bad storms” Farrah mentioned.

  The slap of combat boots on pavement somewhere behind me breaks the silence of the neighborhood, accompanied by the faint, rhythmic squeal of leather. I don’t even have to look back to know who it is, and for a while I keep my gaze straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him. Like a tireless shadow, he mirrors everything I do, his footsteps slowing when I pause at a street sign to make sure we’re still on the right course, picking up again when I start walking. I stop, he stops. I walk faster, and the rhythm of boots goes into double-time. When my shadow takes up humming the tune to “Thrift Shop” under his breath, I can’t ignore him any longer.

  “You know, I just wanted to go on a nice, peaceful stroll,” I call over my shoulder. “I don’t really need a soundtrack.” I wonder how and when he’s been listening to pop music.

  Dolos cuts off in the middle of the chorus. “Oh
, that’s right. You like quiet,” he recalls before resuming the upbeat melody, more loudly this time.

  “Don’t you know any other songs?” I groan.

  A thoughtful pause. Then, “Nice to meet you, where you been? I could show you incredible things—”

  “Never mind. I think I preferred Macklemore.”

  “Haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.” Suddenly, Dolos is walking right beside me, hands in his coat pockets, a skip to his step that makes the military-style coat ripple around him like waves on a dark sea. “I have to admit, Taylor Swift is really growing on me. Her songs are just so—”

  “Annoying,” I finish for him. “Kind of like you.”

  Instead of bristling at the jab, he grins at me. “This is fun. The playful insults…the witty banter. Just like old times.”

  “If by witty banter, you mean you say something annoying and I tell you to shut up—yeah, just like old times.” I hope he doesn’t sense that sarcasm and witty banter are the only things holding me together right now. It’s easier to not think about last night if I just pretend there’s only one side to him, that he only has one face—one with a gold-tinged complexion and a smile so wicked it could make the devil blush.

  “So, how’s that antidote coming?” he asks in the kind of voice one uses to inquire how you’re holding up after a death in the family.

  “It’s coming along nicely,” I reply confidently. “I figured out what the first two ingredients are. Just four…five more to go,” I correct myself, going through the recipe in my head for the hundredth time tonight.

  “Impressive.” For a moment, I think I see a flicker of worry in his eyes, but it’s as fleeting as the pulse of a dragonfly’s wings, gone before I could even be certain it was there in the first place. “Then again, you are pretty smart…for a human.”

  “Oh, stop. You’re making me blush.” I flash him a smile that I’m pretty sure could burn through steel, but it doesn’t seem to affect Dolos as he strokes his chin, thinking.

  “I’ll chalk it up to beginner’s luck. But, just in case, I’m going to have to devise some more…creative ways to distract you.” His eyebrows arc suggestively.