Spartan Heart

by Jennifer Estep

  She leaned over and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  She drew back and stroked my wet hair. Then she smiled and left my bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

  My gaze zoomed over to the black velvet box. Anger roared through my body, and I thought about shoving it off the side of the table and into the trash can below. But the anger burned out in an instant, leaving behind the familiar heartache. Sighing, I grabbed the box and slowly cracked open the top.

  A bracelet lay inside, with a single charm dangling from its links—a silver locket shaped like a heart.

  I hesitated, then picked up the bracelet and opened the locket. The photo inside looked exactly the same as I remembered it. My dad, Tyson, was in one half of the heart, a rare smile on his face, while my mom, Rebecca, was in the other half. I was also on my mom’s side of the locket, standing between my parents, my arms wrapped around both their shoulders, grinning like a fool.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been that happy.

  My parents had given me the bracelet, locket, and photo for my sixteenth birthday last year, a few weeks before they’d been murdered. I had loved the gift, especially the locket, and I’d jokingly said that I was wearing my Spartan heart on my sleeve for everyone to see.

  The day of their funerals, I had torn off the bracelet and thrown it down on top of their graves, but Aunt Rachel had picked it up, saying that I might want it back someday. I had told her I never wanted to see it again and had stormed off. But here I was, holding the bracelet in my hands again roughly a year later.

  I traced my fingers over the simple, delicate links, which were ice-cold against my skin. The small locket felt as heavy as a lead weight in my hand, and the heart’s sharp point pricked my thumb like a needle, drawing a drop of blood and making me hiss. I concentrated on that icy chill, on that heavy weight, and especially on that tiny sting of pain, letting the sensations ground me, steady me.

  Holding the locket reminded me of all the times my mom had told me to focus on my sword during a fight, to really feel the hilt in my hand, to notice the blade dangling from my fingers, to listen to the whisper of the sharp edge slicing through the air, until the sword was a part of me, and I was a part of it. That was what having a Spartan heart had meant to her, and my dad too.

  In that moment, I made my decision.

  Maybe I had already made it back during the Battle of Mythos Academy, when I’d seen all the blood, bodies, death, and destruction. Maybe I had made it weeks before then, the day I first met Gwen when she’d come to Colorado searching for a cure for a poisoned Nickamedes. Maybe I had even made it long before then, in the instant I found out that my parents were Reapers.

  Either way, I knew what I had to do now.

  I was joining the Midgard, and I was going to get justice for Amanda and help Takeda and the others stop the Reapers from hurting anyone else. The bracelet and locket were both symbols of my parents and their mistakes—mistakes that I didn’t want to make. So as much as it hurt me, I wrapped the chain around my wrist and snapped the clasp shut.

  The metal still felt cold and heavy against my skin but not unpleasantly so. I hoped it would remind me that I wasn’t my parents and that I didn’t have to follow the same dark path they had taken.

  Time would tell.

  I stared at the bracelet and heart locket glimmering around my wrist a moment longer, then closed the black velvet box, pushed it aside, and went to bed.

  Chapter Nine

  I told Aunt Rachel my decision at breakfast the next morning.

  She was standing in front of the stove, making cheesy scrambled eggs, and she opened her mouth like she was going to try to talk me out of it. Then she shook her head, remembering her promise from last night.

  “I knew it. I knew you were going to join the team.” Her gaze dropped to the bracelet around my wrist, and she brandished her spatula at me. “But I want you to remember something. What your parents did is what they did. It doesn’t have anything to do with you or me or anyone else. They made their own choices. You don’t have to try to make up for their mistakes.”

  I let out a tense breath. “I know that, and I’m not doing it for them.”

  Aunt Rachel gave me a sharp, knowing look.

  I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, so I’m not doing it entirely for them. I’m doing it for me too. Because this is the kind of person that I want to be. I’m a Spartan, and Spartans protect people, right?”

  She nodded. Then she turned off the stove, dished the eggs onto two plates, and brought everything over to the kitchen table.

  Aunt Rachel pushed a plate of eggs over to me. “That’s right. We protect people. It’s who we are, and it’s what we do—both of us.”

  “Wait a second. What are you saying?” My eyes narrowed. “You’ve decided to join the Midgard too. Haven’t you?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that I’m joining, exactly, but someone needs to watch your back.” She winked at me. “Besides, I’m a Spartan too, remember?”

  I got up from my seat, walked around the table, and hugged her tight. “Yes, yes, you are.”

  Aunt Rachel laughed and hugged me back. Then she picked up her fork and stabbed it at my plate. “Now, sit down and eat your eggs. I imagine that spying is hard work, and you’ll need a good breakfast to help you get through the day.”

  I sat back down, picked up my own fork, and saluted her with it. “Yes, ma’am.”

  * * *

  I wolfed down the scrambled eggs, along with some country-fried ham and whole-wheat toast slathered with Aunt Rachel’s sweet, delicious homemade strawberry preserves. Then I grabbed my messenger bag, left the cottage, and walked across campus to the main quad.

  Once again, all the kids turned to stare at me the second I stepped onto the quad, but I ignored them. Aunt Rachel was right. My parents’ mistakes were their mistakes, not mine, and if the other kids couldn’t understand that and accept me for who I was, then that was their problem, not mine.

  At least, that’s what I told myself. But it got harder and harder to ignore the mocking stares and snarky whispers that chased me across the quad, and I was grinding my teeth by the time I reached the English-history building for my first class. I was about to go up the steps when someone called out my name.

  “Rory! Hey, Rory! Wait up!”

  I froze, wondering if I’d imagined the sound. No one ever spoke to me on the quad, much less called out my name like they wanted to talk to me. But I stopped and turned around, and Lance Fuller jogged up to me.

  Lance’s black hair gleamed in the early-morning sun, which also brought out his amazing blue eyes. He wore a black leather jacket over his polo shirt and jeans, and a black backpack dangled off his shoulder.

  Despite his friendly wave, my stomach still clenched with worry. Linus Quinn and Takeda thought that Lance had stolen Typhon’s Scepter and summoned those chimeras in the library last night. I didn’t know if they were right about Lance secretly being a Reaper, but I couldn’t take a chance that they were wrong either.

  So I casually dropped my hand to Babs’s hilt, since I was wearing the sword again today. I didn’t think Lance would be stupid enough to attack me, especially not in the middle of the quad, but stranger things had happened at Mythos Academy. I also glanced around, but I didn’t see any sign of the Protectorate guards who were supposed to be watching Lance. They must have been keeping to the edges of the quad and staying out of sight so as not to spook him.

  Lance flashed me a smile. “Hey! You’re a hard person to catch up to.”

  “Hey, yourself,” I said, trying to make my voice sound as normal as possible. “What’s up, Lance?”

  He grinned and stepped a little closer to me. “Can’t a guy just come over and say hi?”

  I snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly popular these days. Not ever, actually.”

  He glanced around at the other kids, who were stari
ng at him and glaring at me. “Ah, don’t mind them. They’re just jealous of how cute you are.”

  A hot blush flooded my cheeks. No guy had ever told me I was cute, especially not someone as handsome as Lance.

  He stepped even closer to me and glanced around again, as though he wanted to be sure that no one was eavesdropping on us. “Listen,” he said in a low voice. “I heard that some girl got attacked in the Library of Antiquities last night.”

  And just like that, my brief spark of happiness was snuffed out.

  According to Linus, the only people who should even know about the chimera attack were the members of the Protectorate. Of course, some kid sneaking around campus last night could have seen the Protectorate guards coming out of the library or maybe even overheard them talking about the attack. But Lance was the one asking me about it—the alleged Reaper who might be responsible for everything, including Amanda’s death. Was this just a bizarre coincidence? Or something much, much worse?

  “You didn’t get attacked, did you, Rory?” Lance asked, his blue gaze steady on mine. “I mean, you look fine, you look great, but I wanted to make sure that you were okay. I know you spend a lot of time in the library, especially given…everything that happened last year.”

  “You mean everyone finding out that my parents were Reaper assassins,” I said in a cold, flat voice.

  He winced. “Well…yeah.”

  I studied him, but his face was a perfect mask of concern and sympathy. If Linus and Takeda hadn’t told me their suspicions, I would have totally believed that Lance was worried about me. More than that, I would have been absolutely thrilled that he was talking to me, that he had braved everyone else’s scorn to come over and check on me, and my crush on him would have grown to epic proportions. But now…now I wasn’t sure what to believe about Lance. My judgment when it came to detecting Reapers and their lies wasn’t exactly great—more like nonexistent.

  “So, the library,” Lance continued. “Do you know what happened? I heard that some serious monsters just appeared out of thin air. How freaky is that?”

  My mind raced, trying to figure out how to respond. He was obviously fishing for information, but I couldn’t tell if he wanted some juicy gossip to spread around campus or if he really was the Reaper who’d stolen the chimera scepter and wanted to see how much I knew. Either way, I decided to play dumb. At least until I could figure out whose side he was really on.

  I shook my head. “I was in the library studying last night, but I left right before closing. I didn’t see anything, and I haven’t heard anything about any monsters. Sorry, Lance.”

  Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but he smiled at me again. “No worries. It was probably just a crazy rumor. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  He hesitated, then reached out and gently squeezed my shoulder, as if he were truly concerned about me. All around us, I could hear the collective gasps of the other students, followed by a sudden surge of whispers. Lance talking to me was noteworthy enough, but actually touching my shoulder? In front of everyone? That would send the rumor mill into a frenzy. I didn’t have to glance around to know that the other girls were shooting daggers at me with their eyes, especially Kylie, who was no doubt wondering why Lance was paying so much attention to me instead of her.

  I looked at Lance, but I wasn’t really seeing him anymore. Instead, the image of Amanda’s bloody body crumpled on the library floor filled my mind. My hand curled around Babs’s hilt, and I thought about pulling the sword, pointing it at Lance, and demanding that he tell me if he was the Reaper who was responsible for Amanda’s death.

  But I couldn’t do that. Not here in the middle of the quad with everyone watching us. The other kids would grab their own weapons and attack me, thinking that I had finally shown my true Reaper colors.

  “Rory?” Lance asked. “Are you okay? You have a strange look on your face.”

  I forced myself to smile at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about what you said. I hope it’s not true. I’m tired of monsters in the library.”

  He squeezed my shoulder again. “Yeah. Me too.”

  Lance dropped his hand from my shoulder and shifted on his feet, as though he was thinking about what to say next.

  After a few seconds, he looked at me again. “I’m having a few friends over to my dad’s house tonight. Sort of a back-to-school bash. I did it last year, remember? You should come.”

  I blinked. “Me? You want me to come to your party?”

  He grinned, showing off his two perfect dimples. “Well, yeah. I was hoping you would be back at the academy this year. And now that you are, of course I want you to come to my party.”

  I blinked again, totally surprised. Pumping me for information about the chimera attack was one thing. But actually inviting me to his party? Even after I had told him I didn’t know anything? What was up with that? Was Lance a Reaper or not? My head ached. I couldn’t tell. I just couldn’t tell anymore, and I couldn’t trust my own instincts one way or the other.

  “Let me see your phone.” He held out his hand.

  I was so confused that I did exactly what he wanted, digging my phone out of my jacket pocket and handing it over to him. Lance texted me a message, then handed the phone back to me.

  “There. I sent you all the details. Party starts at eight tonight and goes until whenever. I hope you can make it, Rory.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” I replied, still in a daze.

  Lance kept smiling at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I stared back at him, still trying to figure out what he was really up to—

  “Hey, Rory,” a cool, familiar voice sounded. “Who’s your friend?”

  Ian walked up to me, along with Zoe and Mateo. The three of them clutched their phones in one hand and their bags in the other like everyone else on the quad, as though they were regular students instead of Protectorate spies. They were taking this whole undercover gig very seriously.

  And they weren’t very happy about my talking to Lance. At least, Ian wasn’t. He dropped his bag on the ground, making the battle axes attached to the sides clank-clank-clank together, almost in warning. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and alternated between glowering at me and at Lance. Maybe Ian wasn’t as good at this undercover spy thing as I’d thought.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Rory?” Lance asked.

  “Um…sure.” As if I had any choice in the matter now. “This is Lance. Lance, this is Ian, and that’s Zoe and Mateo. They’re, um, well…”

  Zoe stepped up and flashed Lance a smile. “We’re some new transfer students from the New York academy. Nice to meet you.” She looked him up and down, and her smile widened. “I have to say that so far, the guys here are a lot more interesting than the ones back home.”

  He grinned at Zoe. Of course he did. The petite Valkyrie was as cute as cute could be and twice as charming.

  Lance shook Zoe’s hand, then Mateo’s, and finally Ian’s. Lance started to drop the other guy’s hand, but instead of letting go, Ian tightened his grip, making Lance wince. I rolled my eyes. Vikings. Always thinking their superstrength made them so special.

  Zoe cleared her throat in warning, and Ian finally dropped Lance’s hand.

  “So what’s this party I heard you talking about?” Zoe asked in a fun, flirty voice.

  She batted her eyelashes at Lance, which made her look even more adorable. A bit of jealousy spiked through me. If I’d tried to do that, I would have seemed like a complete idiot. And probably made myself dizzy.

  “I’m throwing a little back-to-school party tonight,” Lance said. “You guys should come.”

  “Oh! That sounds like so much fun!” Zoe squealed. “Tell me more.”

  She drew him off to the side, and he took her phone and texted her the details like he had done with me. Mateo started fiddling with his own phone, while Ian crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me again.

  I glared right back at him. He hadn’t wanted me on his pr
ecious Midgard last night, not even on a temporary basis, but now he thought he could barge in and interrupt my conversation with another guy? Okay, okay, so the guy in question might be a Reaper, but Ian didn’t have to be a grade A jerk about it. What was his problem with me?

  “Great! Thanks so much!” Zoe said, favoring Lance with another dazzling smile. “We’ll totally be there tonight, won’t we, Rory?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” My voice was far less enthusiastic than hers.

  Lance grinned at Zoe, then turned to me. “Great. I’ll see you guys tonight. I’m looking forward to it. Hope you are too, Rory.”

  He winked at me, still working his smooth charm, then hoisted his backpack a little higher on his shoulder and headed across the quad.

  The four of us watched him go in silence. Ian opened his mouth, probably to make some snide remark, but I was all too aware of the other students still watching us, intensely interested in me and these three new kids. Lance had a lot of friends at the academy, and if he was a Reaper, then some of his friends might be Reapers too.

  So I nudged Ian in the side with my elbow, hard enough to make him wince and cut off whatever he’d been about to say. Served him right for being so rude.

  “Gotta go, guys. I have class, and so do you. We’ll talk more about the party at lunch, okay? Save me a seat, Viking.” I emphasized the last few words so he would realize that it wasn’t a request.

  Ian gave me a stiff nod. “Sure, cupcake. We can talk all about the party and your new boyfriend then.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.”

  I glared at him one more time, then whipped around, trudged up the steps, and marched into the English-history building to get to my first class. A sour thought filled my mind.