A figure stood behind me. He must have slipped in through the door while I'd been talking to Oliver. Shadows cloaked his face, but I could clearly see the crossbow in his hand-the one that he'd just loaded with a fresh bolt. He gestured with the weapon, and I put my hands up and slowly backed around the wheelbarrow until I stood next to Oliver, who was writhing on the floor in pain.
"Stop," the shadowy figure commanded.
I gasped. I recognized that voice, knew exactly who it belonged to. But why would he be here? And why would he shoot Oliver?
Preston stepped into a slice of sunlight and leveled his crossbow at me. "You're not going anywhere, Gypsy."
This time, my eyes were the ones that widened. "Preston?" I asked. "What's going on? What are you doing?"
"I think it's rather obvious. I'm here to kill you." His handsome face twisted into a sneer. "Just like you killed my little sister. And my name's not Preston. Well, not exactly. Preston's my middle name, you see. Julian Preston Ashton."
"Your sister?" I whispered, ice filling up my stomach. "Jasmine was your sister?"
Professor Metis had warned me that Jasmine's family blamed me for her death, that they might come after me. Jasmine herself had told me that she and the rest of her family were Reapers. Now one of them had come to collect.
"Don't you say her name!" Preston screamed. "Don't you dare say her name, you Gypsy bitch!"
Preston leveled the crossbow at my face, and for a second I thought he was going to pull the trigger. But then he calmed down and lowered the weapon a few inches- aiming it at my heart instead. Not much of an improvement.
"Did you really think you could kill my sister-kill an Ashton, kill a Reaper-and get away with it?" Preston snarled.
I swallowed, but a hard lump of fear filled my throat. "Jasmine-Jasmine tried to kill me first. I just defended myself."
I didn't say anything about the fact that Logan was really the one who'd killed Jasmine, that the Spartan had been the one to put a spear through her chest. I didn't want to put him in danger, too. Besides, Preston wouldn't believe me anyway.
Preston laughed, and the harsh, mocking sound fluttered against the walls, somehow darkening the shadows all around us. "I don't care what you did. You killed my sister, and now you're going to pay for it."
He cocked his head to one side, studying me. "All that's left is to decide how much I want to make you suffer in the meantime."
His words chilled me to the bone, because I knew he meant them. He was just as determined to kill me as Jasmine had been to sacrifice Morgan to Loki. I wondered if Preston would do the same thing to me. If he would stake me out down here in the sawdust and concrete, chant some magic mumbo jumbo, and dedicate my death to the evil god he served before he put a crossbow bolt through my skull.
The sick, horrid thought made me want to vomit, but I forced myself to just breathe-in and out, in and out, like my mom had taught me. I couldn't give in to the panic. If I did that, I was already dead. Calm, I had to stay calm, and I had tothink. That was the only way I was going to get out of this alive.
My eyes flicked down, but Oliver had quit screaming. Now, the Spartan lay quiet and still at my feet. A wide pool of blood had formed under his left shoulder, mixing with the sawdust on the floor. I didn't know if the Spartan was dead or not, and I didn't dare bend down to check. Not with Preston still aiming his crossbow at me.
"Don't worry about him," Preston sneered. "Like I told you before, archery's not really my thing, but that's a pretty nasty wound. If he's not dead by the time I'm done with you, I'll put another bolt through his skull and finish him off. Actually, this will work out even better than I'd planned. I'll make it look like the two of you fought and killed each other. That way, no one will be chasing me after the fact."
Think, Gwen, think!
Okay, so Oliver couldn't help, since he was so badly injured, but I had to do something to try and save us. I had to keep Preston talking while I figured out some sort of plan.
"Why now?" I asked, wetting my lips. "Why did you decide to kill me now? Why wait all these weeks?"
Preston's face tightened with anger. "Because after Jasmine's death, after they found out that the Ashtons are Reapers, the members of the Pantheon started hunting for us, so they could throw us into one of their pathetic little prisons. I had to leave school in Athens, and my parents had to go into hiding. Besides, I couldn't get to you at the academy. I'd visited Jasmine there before, and I couldn't take a chance that someone would recognize me. Like your friend Daphne."
All sorts of images from the past two days filled my mind. Preston always standing next to the lobby wall. Me never seeing him with anyone else, even though he always claimed he was meeting friends. The fact that he always disappeared whenever Daphne and Carson showed up. The Valkyrie telling me that she didn't see his profile and picture with the rest of the student photos on the New York academy's Web site.
Something whispered at my feet, and I spotted Oliver slowly, slowly sliding his hand down along the floor. Relief flooded my body, chasing away some of the cold dread. The Spartan wasn't dead yet, even though his eyes were closed and he was acting like he was.
I focused my attention on Preston again, determined to keep the Reaper talking for as long as possible. Determined to keep him looking at me and not Oliver. I didn't know what the Spartan was up to, but I was going to give him a chance to do it.
"So it was all a lie, then," I said, rocking forward on my heels, so Preston wouldn't notice the fact that Oliver was digging in his jacket pocket for something. "You flirting and chatting me up all those times, asking me to lunch. You've been trying to get me alone all weekend, just so you could kill me. And you've been staying down here, too, haven't you? Here in the construction site, since all the rooms were rented out to Mythos students and staff for the weekend."
Preston nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. I was going to kill you that first night, right outside the party, but then your little Spartan boyfriend came outside and got in the middle of things."
I wrapped my arms around my chest, feeling numb and frozen inside. Every word Preston said only added to the ice running through my veins. I remembered how happy I'd been that Preston had been flirting with me that night, how eager I'd been to follow him around the side of the building so we could make out. Preston might have kissed me, but he would have followed it up by shoving a dagger through my heart. I'd been so pissed at Logan for butting in, but the Spartan had saved my life. If I got out of this alive, I was going to tell Logan as much, and that I was sorry for-for everything.
"And the avalanche?" I asked. "You texted me and asked me to meet you at the hotel, so what exactly-you could make sure I was going down the mountain at the right time?"
"Well, yeah." Preston rolled his eyes. "I only had enough explosives for one try at that. I didn't want to waste them."
"And the Fenrir wolf?"
He shrugged. "I had it follow you around the slopes and keep an eye on you. I figured that if the avalanche didn't get you, then the wolf would finish the job. But the stupid dog got hurt instead."
Preston glanced to his left and let out a sharp whistle. A shadow I hadn't noticed before detached itself from the wall and came over to him. The Fenrir wolf walked with a noticeable limp, although a bandage covered its leg where the tree branch had skewered it. Preston's doing, I supposed. As weird as it was, I was glad to see that the wolf was okay. It wasn't the creature's fault Preston was a Reaper maniac who wanted to murder me.