Sweet Legacy - Page 83/87

Nick walks up to Gretchen, wraps a hand behind her neck, and pulls her into a very meaningful kiss.

Grace plunges into the crowd, no doubt looking for Milo.

I turn and find Thane standing right behind me.

He is covered with sweat, the sleeve of his T-shirt is torn, and he’s bleeding from a slash above his left eye.

We share a private smile, and then I step into his arms without hesitation. I don’t even care that he is sweating and bleeding all over my Marc Jacobs tank. Well, I don’t care much.

“We really did it?” I whisper.

He nods. “Would you accept anything less?”

“Of course not.” I smile. “You’re learning.”

Even without our supernatural connection, I feel the bond between us. It’s only growing stronger with time. With Thane, unlike with anyone else in my life—except maybe my sisters—I can be absolutely, unequivocally, unreservedly myself. No image to maintain, no facade of perfection. No striving to be better, smarter, stronger, faster. Just . . . me. For the first time in my life, I am content.

Not that I’m going to sit back on my heels and drift along. That’s just not my way. But when Mother and Dad return, they are going to find a different Greer than they’re used to.

And she is going to be so much happier.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

I turn at the sound of the oracle’s voice—her real voice, not the echo inside my head.

She looks untouched by the battle. No bruises or scratches mar her smiling, wrinkled face. Even her voluminous robes look as if she’s just pulled them out of her closet.

Her eyes study me, knowing. They sparkle with the power to see everything in everyone. She has powers I can only imagine.

It’s a good thing she’s on our side.

She lifts her brows.

Right. Her pendant.

I reach into my jeans pocket, pulling out the bundle wrapped in a piece of my tank that was about to fall off anyway. I carefully hand it over to the oracle. She peels off the layer of fabric. Grabbing the heavy gold chain, she places the pendant back where it belongs—around her neck.

“It suits you better,” I say with a half smile. “Gold isn’t really my metal.”

“No,” she replies, giving me a wry look. “You are more of a platinum girl.”

“Yes.” I sigh, and my smile fades. We have more serious things to talk about—like how I am supposed to deal with my gift. “Does it get easier?”

She shakes her head slowly. “No, I’m afraid it does not.”

Great. That is precisely what I wanted to hear.

“Possession of the second sight,” she says, “is both powerful and dangerous. You must always retain your awe and respect for the power.”

“It’s overwhelming.” I force myself to hold on to tight control of my emotions. “How do I know if what I’m seeing has happened or will happen? How do I know what to do about it?”

“You will not always know. You must trust that the gift does not give what you do not need.” She pats me on the arm. “When you sought me, you found Thane. Though you did not see clearly at the time, that led you to the door.”

Wow. Now that all makes sense.

“What about my vision of Grace’s death?” I whisper. “That didn’t come true.”

I died instead.

“Any vision of the future,” she explains with a cryptic smile, “is of but one of many possible futures. The mere act of seeing a path can alter the course. You saw your sister’s death so that you could prevent it, and so that you could receive my message from the Fates.”

“Your message?”

All at once the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, and I realize that the oracle must have had this planned from the very beginning. Everything leading up to my trip to Hades—my connection with Apollo, Gretchen diving into the abyss, all the way back to Grace moving to the city—had to go exactly according schedule in order for me to wind up dead and have that chat with the Fates.

I gape. I never gape.

“You left the pendant on purpose,” I assert. “You knew I would become a beacon. You knew everything.”

Her smile remains unreadable, but she does nothing more than shrug.

I narrow my gaze. “Did everything go according to your plan?”

“My plan?” She shakes her head. “I make no plans. Events pass as I see them to be.”

Then, without another word, she turns and walks away. A sound to my left draws my attention, but I see nothing there. When I look back, the oracle is gone.

But I will never be far, she echoes in my mind. All you have to do is think my name.

Oracle? I ask.

No, she replies with a snort. Metrodora.

Metrodora?

Do not judge, she says. You should see how odd your name will seem in two thousand years.

The feeling in my brain changes—it’s hard to describe, but it’s almost like a breeze—and I know she’s gone. For now.

“Such a mystery,” I mutter.

“What’s that?” Thane asks, walking up behind me and slipping his arms around my waist.

“Oh, nothing,” I say, turning in the circle of his embrace. I lift up to whisper against his mouth, “Now, about those golden apples . . .”

CHAPTER 34

GRACE

I want to jump up and down for joy. My sisters and I just fought a battle that had been brewing for millennia—and we won. Even if it’s only the first of many to come, it’s definitely worth celebrating.