“What’s her name?” Mom’s efforts only make the caulk smear worse. “Where does she live?”
“Gretchen. And not far,” I fib. Nothing’s far in San Francisco if you catch a bus. “We’re in a lot of the same classes, so it will really help as the school year goes on.”
I’m a little surprised at how easily the lies fall out of my mouth.
“Okay,” she relents after a moment of hesitation. “Be home for dinner.”
“Mom,” I whine. “We won’t have time to get anything done.”
She heaves a sarcastic sigh and drops her rag. “Fine, be home by ten. And call when you’re on your way.”
“Thanks.”
I’m gone before she can change her mind. As I dart through the dining room, I throw a glance at the boys. Milo’s dark head is bent over a book. Thane catches my eye and lifts his brows in question.
“Going to a friend’s,” I explain quickly. “See you later.”
“Grace,” Thane says, and I spin back to face the table. “Be careful.”
His dark-gray eyes are guarded and intense.
“I—” For some reason, I can’t just give him a glib reassurance that I’ll be fine. “I will.”
He nods, apparently satisfied with my answer, and turns his attention back to his book. I grab my backpack to make it look good, even though I have no intention of studying with Gretchen, and hurry to the closest bus stop. I’ve been putting this off for three days, but now that the decision is made, I’m anxious to talk to her—just to be with her again, and to feel like I belong to something, even if she doesn’t want me there.
I’m not sure which buses to take to get to her pier, but I’ll ask the driver. They should know, right?
My heart starts pounding at the thought of seeing Gretchen again. I’m not big on confrontation, and I have a feeling she’s not going to be too thrilled to see me again. But for once in my life, I’m going to stand up for something. For myself. I hope she doesn’t slam the door in my face.
“It’ll be fine,” I tell myself. “I mean, we’re obviously sisters. She can’t dismiss that. She can’t shut me out forever.” A wave of doubts washes over me. “Right?”
I sense another person stepping up beside me at the bus stop, but I keep my eyes straight ahead. After only a few days in the city I’ve learned that making eye contact can be dangerous. When Thane and I went to the grocery store the day after moving in, we ran into a woman on the street who shouted at us and shot an imaginary pistol in my face. I was terrified. Thankfully, Thane grabbed my wrist and dragged me down the block.
Since then, I keep my eyes averted as much as possible.
“Which bus goes to the Presidio?” the person asks.
“Um, I’m not sure,” I say, unable to ignore a direct question. “I’m new in town and I haven’t really—”
I freeze when look up at the person next to me and see that it’s not a person at all, but a woman with the shiny head of a cobra. A pair of yellow beady eyes peer at me from opposite sides of the triangle-shaped head, and wide, scaly flaps spread out beneath each ear. Maybe if I’d played it cool she wouldn’t have noticed, wouldn’t have realized that I saw her true form. But I’m not cool and I can’t stop the scream that bursts from my throat.
A sickly sly smile spreads across her dark-green lips. “Must be my lucky night.”
Before her forked tongue can slither out between her lips, I turn and run. I make it only a few steps before I feel her human hands clamp over my shoulders. Our momentum thrusts me face-first into the pavement, and her weight crushes against my back, knocking the wind out of me.
As soon as I recover my breath, I struggle to pull myself away, out from under her, my fingertips scraping raw on the rough concrete. There is nothing for me to grab, no traction to drag myself out of her grasp. Still, I reach, desperate to find purchase.
Her weight lifts, but before I can scramble away, she flips me onto my back and pins my arms and legs with her own.
A thin line of serpent drool dangles from her scale-covered chin.
“Ew!” I struggle to shake off her grip, but she’s too strong for me.
The ridiculous thought floats through my mind that, if I survive the night, I should totally change one of my electives to Tae Kwon Do. Ms. West will be so happy. If I’m not dead.
Her snake head slowly lowers toward my face. “I’ve never tasted a huntress before.” The tongue darts out, flicking my nose. “You don’t need to be whole to earn me my freedom.”
What?
As her fangs descend toward my neck, I squeeze my eyes shut against the sight of her yellow eyes. Bleak, empty eyes. Hungry eyes. I can’t believe I’m going to die like this. Move to the big city and the fears are rapists and murderers and even doomsday cults, but death by giant-snake bite?
Mom is going to be very upset.
The weight suddenly lifts away.
“Ugh,” I grunt as I lift my free arms to my head.
“Grace?”
I blink my eyes open to find Gretchen standing over me, looking like I’m the burning bag of dog poo left on her porch Halloween night. Why would she look at me like that when she obviously just saved my butt from snake-head lady?
“Thank you, I—” But as I sit up and look around, I see that I’m not on the sidewalk around the corner from the bus stop. I’m on the metal steps above Gretchen’s garage. Halfway across town, without a snake-headed lady in sight. “How did I—?”