by S. L. Stacy
Not that there was anything wrong with that. Sometimes I long for the days when the most stressful parts of sorority life were trying to find a dress for winter formal and rehearsing for Greek Sing.
“I’m sorry.” I sit back down with a sigh. Victoria mirrors me, folding her hands in her lap. “I really am. I don’t want to be angry anymore, but I am. And I realize how selfish it is, but I just feel so...betrayed.” The most painful part of all of this is being mad at Victoria. Whenever I needed advice or to talk about anything, she was the person I would run to. Now I can’t even look at her without feeling the sting of betrayal all over again.
“I know,” she says quietly, eyes flickering between me and her clasped hands. “I don’t know what I can do or say to make things better. I’m sorry definitely doesn’t cut it. Just tell me what I can do.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I really don’t.” For several long minutes, we sit in silence, each lost in our own jumbled thoughts. “I was trapped there for seven months, Victoria.” When I finally speak again, my voice cracks, as though I haven’t used it in years. “Seven months. If anyone came after me—if anyone could get me out of there—I thought it would be you and the sisters. Instead, Jasper, of all people, came to the rescue. There was a time when he wasn’t even willing to put me above his quest for power, and yet even he made the effort to get me out of there.”
“Of course he did. He may have his faults, but he really does love you.” Our eyes meet. The hesitancy in her gaze startles me. On a face usually beaming with confidence, it seems out-of-place somehow, wrong. “We love you, too,” she adds quietly. “But we have to answer to a higher authority. Jasper doesn’t. At least not anymore.”
“Because he chose not to,” I remind her.
“The sisters were scared.” There’s a bite to Victoria’s tone now, just a tinge of anger. At me? At herself? “I—I was scared.”
“So was I.”
“We made a mistake.” Raising her voice, Victoria gets to her feet. “People make mistakes, Siobhan.”
“Well, your mistake almost cost me my life. My sanity.” I stand up, too, the anger that’s been simmering inside of me starting to boil. “You think I liked having to just...hang there, waiting to be rescued? I felt weak. Helpless. I never want to feel that way again. I’m tired of getting caught in the middle of other people’s battles. Of being a pawn in a game I never even wanted to play!”
“You wanted to go after Carly,” my big sister fires back. Since finals are over, there aren’t many students on campus, but a few people walking by pause to stare at us. I make a point of ignoring them. “You insisted, actually.”
“I don’t mean that. Of course I wanted to go after her. I meant more generally.” I make a sweeping motion with my arm. “This whole, damn mess the Olympians have put us in,” I explain, lowering my voice. “Eric recruiting a halfling army to take over Olympus. Them fighting us. Us fighting them. Apate doing her own thing, trying to rescue her brother. None of it has anything to do with me, really, and yet somehow I’m the only one that ends up getting screwed!”
“Right.” Victoria works her jaw, shaking her head. “Yeah, of course. Carly almost dies in Pandora—one of the Alpha Rho sisters is dead—and yet, somehow, you’re the only one that’s gotten screwed.”
“Well, when you say it like that…”
“You sound like a huge, self-centered bitch? That’s because you’re kinda being one.”
I scowl at her. “If you came over here to apologize to me, you’re doing a hell of a job of it.”
“You know what? I did, but now I’m realizing it’s kind of pointless.” Victoria lets out a huff of breath that flutters the shorter hairs coming loose from her ponytail. “Of course we’re sorry, but apparently there’s nothing we can ever say to you to make amends. And while I understand your anger, you absolutely refuse to see any other side of it beyond your own.
“You don’t want to be in the sorority anymore? We don’t need you, anyway. Go back to your...I don’t know, whatever this thing you have going on with my brother is. Go back to your pink and blonde world where you can shut yourself off from every bad thing that’s happening right now. Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that a lot of bad shit is about to go down, and it affects everyone. Including you. And if we don’t stop it, all of us our screwed.”
Turning on her heel, Victoria storms off. Her final words seem to linger behind her, like the chill left in the air long after a storm has passed through. I take a step forward, reaching for her, even go so far as to open my mouth to call out her name, but only a hoarse whisper escapes. Eventually, I close it, dropping my arm. As I make my way to the library, I fish a pair of sunglasses out of my purse, sliding them onto my face so no one can tell I’m crying.
Pronunciations
Apate: ah-PAH-tee or ah-PAH-tay (I’ve heard both; I say the former.)
Dolos: Dō-lōs
Eros: ER-äs
Siobhan: shi-VAWN (If it helps, the Anglicized spelling is Chevonne.)
About the Author
S.L. Stacy holds an MPH and PhD in environmental and occupational health, none of which has anything to do with writing novels. She loves reading and writing in the paranormal romance and urban fantasy genres and is hard at work on the next installment of the Reborn series.
About the Cover Artist
H.N. Sieverding is an author and graphic designer. She has her bachelor’s in art and designs book covers, banners, post cards, ads and book trailers. You can find a few samples of her work here.
