Crimson Frost (Mythos Academy #4)(15)
Author: Jennifer Estep

I reached into my coat pockets and pulled out my dark gray gloves, scarf, and toboggan, all patterned with glittery silver snowflakes. When I was all bundled up, I went outside, shoved my hands into my coat pockets, and stepped onto one of the cobblestone paths that wound up the hill to the main quad. Since it was so early, Alexei and I were the only ones outside.

We walked in silence for about two minutes before I looked over my shoulder at Alexei.

"So what’s your deal?" I asked.

"My deal?"

I shrugged. "Your deal. You know, where you’re from, what kind of warrior you are, why the Protectorate would assign a kid my own age to guard me."

Alexei studied me, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not this was some kind of trick to get supersecret Protectorate information out of him. Heh. If I wanted to do that, all I would have to do was touch him. Unlike me, Alexei wasn’t wearing gloves. His hands hung bare by his sides, instead of being tucked into his coat pockets like they should have been on such a chilly morning. Maybe the cold didn’t bother him. Some of the Mythos kids had magic that made them immune to extreme temperatures.

Even though I’d decided awhile back not to use my magic to pull secrets out of people unless it was absolutely necessary, I couldn’t help eyeing his hands and wondering if I could yank off my gloves, touch him, and flash on him with my psychometry before he realized what I was up to. Probably not without an Amazon’s quickness.

Still, the temptation to try was so strong. I wanted to know what Alexei, and more important, the Protectorate, knew about me. I especially wanted to know what they knew about my touch magic-and if they’d realized that I’d killed Preston with it.

I shivered, but it wasn’t because of the chill in the air. A guy’s face filled my mind. Once, it had been a handsome face, but now it was twisted with pain, and his blue eyes were cold, dead, and empty-all because of me. Metis and Grandma Frost had always told me that my magic would keep growing, that I’d be able to do other things with it besides just touch objects and see memories, but I never thought I could actually kill someone with it. But that’s what I’d done to Preston. I’d used my psychometry to kill him so that I could live. That was bad enough, but the worst part was that I knew I could do the same thing again-to anyone, at any time. I could feel the magic, the power, the knowledge deep inside me, a dark whisper that rasped along in time to the beat of my heart. Use me, use me, use me . . .

"I’m from Saint Petersburg, Russia," Alexei finally said. He must have decided that my questions were harmless after all. "However, I attend the London academy since that’s where my dad spends most of his time with the Protectorate these days. I’m a Bogatyr warrior, and I’m not your age. I’m eighteen, a third-year student."

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, yeah. I knew that all the academies all over the world had the same structure, with first-year students who were sixteen or so all the way up to the sixth-years, who were around twenty-one. Second-year, third-year, it wasn’t that big a difference.

"I’m here to guard you because my father is a senior member of the Protectorate, and I’m training to be a member too someday. And also because I’m . . . familiar with some of your classmates."

I raised an eyebrow. "Familiar how? And what’s a Bogatyr?"

"We’re going to your weapons training now, yes?"

I nodded.

"You’ll see."

And that was all he said. He didn’t explain anything else about himself, who he was, or why he was here. Okay, okay, so he wanted to be all dark, brooding, and mysterious, something that his cool Russian accent definitely helped him with. Whatever.

We walked the rest of the way to the gym in silence. I pushed through the double doors that led into the main space and headed for the bleachers on the far side, but Alexei stopped a moment to look around. I didn’t see what was so interesting. Bright banners dangling from the ceiling, polished wooden bleachers jutting out from the walls, thick mats covering the floor. The gym looked like any other-except for the racks of weapons.

Since Mythos was a school for the descendants of ancient warriors, gym class was a little more strenuous than just running laps and shooting hoops. Here, gym was really weapons training, where Coach Ajax and the rest of his staff taught us kids how to use everything from swords to staffs to daggers to bows. All those weapons and more were lined up in neat rows, their sharp points glinting underneath the lights, just waiting for the students to come and grab them.

Of course, I hadn’t had the lifelong weapons training the other kids had had, which was why I schlepped over to the gym every morning before regular classes started to put in some extra training time with Logan, Kenzie, and Oliver. Since Loki had escaped, Daphne and Carson had started coming too. We all wanted to be ready-for anything.

Everyone except Oliver was already in the gym, and Logan, Kenzie, and Carson were over at the weapons racks figuring out what we were going to practice with today. I put my messenger bag on one of the mats and plopped down on the bleachers next to Daphne. Even though we’d come here to sweat, the Valkyrie looked as pretty as ever in her pink designer yoga pants and matching cropped top. Her blond hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and just the right amount of makeup brought out her dark eyes and the beautiful color of her amber skin.

"I see you brought your shadow with you," Daphne sniped, watching Alexei wander over and put his own bag down on the mat next to mine.

"Be nice," I said. "It’s not his fault that he’s stuck with me. At least, I don’t think it is."

She snorted, but she didn’t say anything else. The guys decided on staffs and passed out the weapons. Logan hesitated, then gave a staff to Alexei, who hefted it in his hands with an easy, familiar grace.

"What’s a Bogatyr warrior?" I asked Logan when he handed me my own staff. "That’s what Alexei said he was."

The two of us watched Alexei work with the staff. He’d gone through a short warm-up and was now twirling the weapon around and around, moving it from one hand to the other as he executed a series of complicated moves. He didn’t seem to have a Viking’s super-strength, but there was something about the way he moved, flowing from one attack position to the next, that told me he was as dangerous as anyone else at Mythos. The staff kept moving faster and faster in his hands, until it was nothing more than a blur swirling through the air around him. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought him some sort of dancer-he just moved that fluidly, that gracefully.

"Bogatyrs are ancient Russian warriors," Logan said. "They’re similar to Romans in that they are exceptionally fast, but the way they move . . . it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before."