Crimson Frost (Mythos Academy #4)(3)
Author: Jennifer Estep

I was so busy brooding that I didn’t pay any attention when the door to Kaldi’s opened, and three men trooped inside. Once again, all conversation stopped, and I felt a collective emotion ripple off everyone in the shop: fear.

"The Protectorate," I heard Helena whisper.

The Protectorate? What was that? I’d never heard of them before, but apparently they knew me because the men walked in my direction, their eyes fixed on my face.

I tensed, then sat up in my seat, wondering who the men were and what they wanted. Could they be Reapers come to attack the students? I’d wanted to be alone with Logan, so I’d left Vic, my talking sword, in my dorm room. Stupid of me not to bring the weapon, even though we’d only been getting coffee. I should have known by now that nothing was simple at Mythos-not even my first date with Logan.

My eyes scanned the shop, looking for something I could use as a weapon, but the only things within arm’s reach were the two mugs and the napkin holder on my table. I wrapped my hand around the napkin holder and put it in my lap under the table and out of sight of the men.

This wouldn’t be the first time Reapers had attacked me. If these men decided to do the same, well, I’d think of something. Besides, one good scream, and Logan would come running out of the bathroom to help me.

One of the men stepped up and stared down at me. He was handsome enough, with blond hair and pale blue eyes, but his mouth was fixed in a firm frown, as if he constantly found fault with everyone around him. He looked at me, and I stared at him a moment before my gaze moved to the two men flanking him. One of the men was tall and slender, while the other was short, with a body that looked fat but was really all hard muscle.

The strangest thing was that the men all had on dark gray robes over their winter clothes. The robes reminded me of the black ones the Reapers always wore, although the men weren’t sporting hideous, rubber Loki masks like Reapers did. Instead, a symbol was stitched into their robes in white thread on their left collars close to their throats-a hand holding a balanced set of scales.

I’d seen that symbol before. It was carved into the ceiling of the prison in the bottom of the math-science building on campus, and it had also been in the middle of the Garm gate that Vivian Holler had used to free Loki. My unease kicked up another notch. Nothing good was ever associated with that image, as far as I was concerned.

"So you’re her," the first man said. "Nike’s newest Champion. Not quite what I expected."

His voice was soft, smooth, and cultured, but there was obvious power in his words, as if he was used to being obeyed no matter what.

"Who are you?" I snapped, my fingers tightening around the flimsy napkin holder. "What do you want?"

"And you don’t even have the good sense to know when you’re in trouble," the man murmured, as though I hadn’t said a word.

I snorted. Oh, I knew I was in trouble. I was almost always in trouble these days. The only question was how bad it would be this time-and if I could somehow manage to get out of it alive once again.

The man kept staring at me with his cold, judgmental eyes, and I lifted my chin in defiance. Whatever happened, whatever these men wanted, whatever they tried to do to me, I wasn’t going to show him how confused and scared I was. Reapers thrived on that sort of thing. I didn’t think these men were Reapers, since no one in the shop was screaming or trying to run away from them, but they weren’t here for anything good. I could feel the hostility emanating from them in waves, especially from the leader.

The man tilted his head to the side. "I wonder what he sees in you." After a moment, he shrugged. "No matter. It won’t change anything."

"Change what?" I asked. "Who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want with me? And why are you wearing those ridiculous robes?"

Anger made the leader’s cheeks take on a faint, reddish tint, but the short, muscular man choked back a laugh. The leader turned to glare at him, and the other man pressed his lips together, although I could see his chest shaking, as though he was trying to swallow the rest of his amusement. The third man seemed bored, as if this was an errand he was eager to get over with.

Okay, this was getting weirder by the second. I looked past the men, wondering what was taking Logan so long, when the leader stepped even closer to me, his eyes glittering with anger.

"Gwendolyn Cassandra Frost," he said in a loud, booming voice. "You’re under arrest."

Chapter 2

My mouth dropped open. "Me? Under arrest? For what?"

"Crimes against the Pantheon," the man said in a cold, cryptic tone.

"Crimes? What crimes? What are you talking about?"

He leaned down so that his face was level with mine. "Freeing Loki, for starters, you silly girl. Did you really think that you were just going to get away with it? That there wouldn’t be any consequences?"

My mouth dropped open a little more. "But I didn’t free him-"

"Get her up," the leader barked, cutting off my protests. "We’ve wasted enough time here already."

The other two men stepped around him and headed toward me. I leaped up out of my chair and scrambled back so that I was standing against the fireplace, just to the left of where the flames crackled in the grate. The stones felt warm against my back through my clothes. Normally, the sensation would have been a pleasant one, but right now it told me that I had nowhere to go-and no hope of escape.

I looked past the men at the other Mythos students, my eyes going from one face to another, hoping that at least one of them would come to my rescue-or just stand up and ask what was going on. But the other kids seemed just as stunned as I felt, and even Kenzie and Talia, whom I counted among my friends, remained frozen in their seats. Whoever the men were, the students seemed to know all about them-and they didn’t dare interfere with them and whatever they were going to do to me.

Everyone except Helena, that is. The Amazon pulled her cell phone out of her purse, and I thought she might actually call for help. But instead, she held her phone up and snapped a few photos of me and the men. Then she bent down over the small screen, sending the pictures as fast as her fingers could text. The smirk on her pretty face told me that she was obviously enjoying this, whatever exactly this was.

Desperate, I raised the napkin holder, wondering if I could somehow distract the men with it long enough to shove my way past them and run out of the shop. Somehow, I didn’t think that would work, especially since I kept getting glimpses of the swords strapped to their waists beneath the billowing folds of their robes.

"What are you going to do with that?" the short man asked, his words colored by a Russian accent. "It’s not very practical, as far as weapons go. You should have brought your sword with you. I hear it’s a fine weapon."