Gretchen doesn’t respond. Just drops her boots to the ground and steps into them. She bends over and quickly does up the laces.
“Yeah,” Grace says quietly. “I don’t like the idea that they’re out there looking for us. Or,” she adds softly, “our families.”
Well, I don’t need to worry about that possibility. Mother and Dad won’t be home until the wee hours. But the idea of going home alone and maybe having to face that terrifying giant again—not precisely how I hoped to end the evening.
Gretchen runs a hand over her wet hair.
“Hell.” She closes her eyes. “You’re right. I’ll deal with those first.” She nods at Grace. “I’ll start with the bear.”
Grace gives her a relieved smile.
“Can you take her home?” Gretchen asks me. “Give me a five-minute head start and I’ll have the thing back in the abyss before you get there.” When I nod, she adds, “Then I’ll take out your giant.”
“We can help,” Grace insists. “You don’t have to face them alone.”
As much as I don’t relish the idea of ever seeing that thing again, Grace has a point. I’m not the kind of girl who lets someone else do my dirty work.
“Yes, of course,” I say. “We’ll go with you.”
Gretchen shakes her head. “I’ll be fine,” she says. “Nothing I haven’t faced before.”
I nod, recognizing this is a matter of pride for her. And maybe an opportunity to work out some frustration.
“Where will you sleep?” I ask. “We have a comfortable sofa bed in the rec room. No one goes down there much anymore.”
“You can come home with me,” Grace offers. “I’ll have to explain things to my parents, you know, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“I’ve got a place,” Gretchen says. “Ursula and I have a safe house—somewhere to go, with basic supplies and weapons, in case something like this happens.”
“Are you sure?” Grace asks.
Gretchen nods. “I’ll be fine.”
I find myself saying “Thank you” and really meaning it. I feel a little guilty about letting Gretchen go hunting alone. I’m going to have to learn how to fight these monsters on my own eventually. I won’t always have one of my sisters around to help.
But for tonight, after everything I’ve been through, after everything that’s changed in my world in the last few days, it’s a relief to know that Gretchen is here to take care of business. I have no doubt that the creatures sent to kill us will be long gone before Grace and I get home.
Then my biggest challenge will be figuring out how to explain to my parents about the dents in my car and the damage to our front door. Frankly, that’s no less terrifying than the monsters.
CHAPTER 2
GRACE
Thanks for the ride,” I say to Greer as she pulls up in front of my apartment building. There’s no sign of Gretchen or her car, so she must have been here and moved on already.
Greer smiles—a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes—and says, “No problem. It’s on my way home anyway.”
I know that’s a lie and that her house is in the opposite direction, but I don’t call her on it. She’s been through a lot—we all have—and I’m just thankful she isn’t running away from our legacy. From us. I would hardly blame her after tonight.
I open the door, ready to climb out, but at the last second I lean back across the seats, the stick shift jabbing into my ribs, and wrap my arms around her. The thought of what might have happened tonight if she had run away, if she hadn’t helped me and Gretchen fight the manticore … it’s too awful to imagine. I’m so grateful that we’re together in this, the three of us.
“Thank you,” I whisper against her damp hair.
I’m pretty sure it’s a sign of our extreme circumstances that she hugs me back. Before she can take it back or say something to ruin the moment, I jump out of the car and slam the door behind me.
I watch, sad and happy at the same time, as she drives away. If we can survive a night like tonight with our fragile sisterhood intact, I have to believe we can survive anything as long as we stick together.
When her taillights disappear around the corner, I turn and trudge up the sidewalk to the front gate. I dig in my jeans pocket, thankful to find my keys still stashed inside. I quickly let myself in through the courtyard gate and then the main door of the building.
I don’t realize how exhausted I am until I slide my key into the apartment door. It’s like my mind decides that all threats are behind me now that I’m home and it’s okay for my body to collapse for a while. My feet are too heavy to lift, and it’s all I can do to turn the handle.
I swing the door open as quietly as possible.
I shouldn’t have bothered. Every light is on and I hear my dad’s voice booming from the kitchen.
“I don’t care if it’s only been five minutes,” he shouts. “She is not the kind of girl—”
There’s a pause and my heart drops into my stomach.
I hear my mom sobbing. Oh no. Oh no-no-no-no-no. I can’t believe I didn’t think about them at all—at all—in the last few hours. I was so caught up in everything, I never once considered that they might be wondering where I went, worrying about my safety.
If they knew why, I’m sure they would understand. But I can’t—won’t—tell them.