“I was thinking about my birthday,” I cover. “It was a couple months ago and it was so much fun.”
Miss Orivas nods in understanding. Of what exactly, I’m not sure. I know I don’t understand.
“Phoebe Diane Castro.” Stella’s voice, gritted out through tightly clenched teeth, is icy cold and barely contained. If there weren’t a dozen people here, she’d probably be screaming like a harpy. She takes a deep breath and then bursts into a bright glow.
I blink into the brightness and then, when I can see again, she’s back to her perfect preppy self. There’s a tiny blob of blue on her left shoulder, but I’m not about to point that out.
“You,” she says, an uncomfortable smile on her face, “will learn how to control your powers in the next two weeks.”
I’m ready for a threat—although I’m kinda surprised she’d incriminate herself in front of witnesses—but it never comes.
“You will be my pet project.” She eyes me up and down. “If I can’t turn you into a proper goddess, no one can.”
I’m not sure which thought terrifies me more: the idea that I am about to become the focus of Stella’s energy, or that I’m actually counting on her to succeed.
CHAPTER 4
PSYCHOSPECTION
SOURCE: HERA
The ability to read the thoughts and emotions of others. Most hematheos can only sense general feelings, rather than specific, tangible thoughts. Descendants of Hera have the greatest affinity for this power and can often hear another’s thoughts as if spoken aloud.
DYNAMOTHEOS STUDY GUIDE © Stella Petrolas
GRIFFIN IS WAITING FOR ME on the Academy steps when camp lets out for the second day—which wasn’t any more exciting than the first day, unless you count Stella and Adara bickering over whether today’s handout was supposed to be green or purple.
“Hi,” I say, hurrying over to him and throwing my arms around his neck. “I didn’t know you were meeting me here. I thought we were training at six today.”
“We are,” he replies, hugging me back, but looking totally unhappy.
“Then you just stopped by to see me?” He can be so sweet, especially for a descendant of Ares. Nothing warlike about Griffin. Of course there’s the Hercules side of him, too. I lace my fingers through his. “I missed you.”
He smiles nervously.
I can’t tell what’s going on in his head. You would think that after going out for nearly nine months, I’d have a little better insight into what makes his mind tick. But no. Hematheos guys aren’t any easier to figure out than the regular ones.
Still, I can tell there’s something he’s not saying.
Damian’s ability to read minds would sure come in handy right now.
“Actually”—he squeezes my hand—“I’m here to—”
His gaze shifts. His blue eyes look over my shoulder and he smiles.
Before I turn around, I know what I’m going to see.
“Hey, Dara,” he says with a little wave.
Adara is standing at the base of the steps, just a few feet away, and looking disgustingly vulnerable. Where is the haughty lift of her brows? The disdainful smirk on her lips?
I frown. This must be her tactic—playing the victim about something so Griffin feels compelled to help her. He swears no one but me and Damian knows he’s half descended from Hercules, so I’m sure she’s not knowingly exploiting the heroic compulsion. But she’s up to something. The stench of Steal Back My Boyfriend is overwhelming, even from this distance.
I’m kinda disappointed Griffin would even fall for this.
Turning back to me, he says, “Look, Phoebes, I need to talk to her. I’ll catch up with you at six, okay?”
Then, before I can answer—by saying, “Um, excuse me?”—he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and then jogs over to Adara’s side, leaving me in the dust. What is going on here? I feel like a total jealous witch, even though I know there is nothing romantic going on between them. I know that. Right? Not on his side, anyway. But Adara . . . ?
Prepared to stake my claim, I start after them.
“Castro!” Stella’s authoritative voice calls out, stopping me in my tracks with one foot hovering mid-stalk.
“Yes?” I squeak, twisting around to see her glaring down at me from the top of the steps.
With her fists on her hips and a determined look in her cool gray eyes, she looks like a girl on a mission. And I have a sinking feeling that I am the mission.
“You and I need to chat.” Clearly sensing I’m about to make some excuse, she adds, “Now.”
With a glance at my boyfriend chatting with his ex, I sigh. “Fine.”
She stomps down the steps.
“Listen,” she snaps. “I’ve been a Goddess Boot Camp counselor for three years, and I haven’t failed a camper yet. I‘m not about to start with you.”
“So?” I ask, stealing a glance at Griffin and Adara. I nearly pounce when he puts his hand on her shoulder.
“So?” Stella repeats. “You pose a somewhat more”—she searches for the word—“challenging educational situation.”
“Why is that?” I ask absently.
How can Griffin do that, knowing I’m right here watching them? The ex-couple move down the path and ’round the corner of the building, disappearing from my sight. I can’t believe this.
“Because—and it kills me to say this,” Stella says, letting out a severely exasperated sigh, “you have the most natural power of any hematheos I have ever known.”