Kiss of Frost (Mythos Academy #2)(25)
Author: Jennifer Estep

I was stil scanning the crowd when Logan walked through the door.

He looked as gorgeous as ever. His ink black hair glinted under the flashing lights, and his dark blue sweater brought out the exquisite, icy paleness of his eyes, while his leather jacket highlighted exactly how broad and strong his shoulders were. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart thrummed with painful awareness.

But of course he wasn’t alone. Logan turned around and stretched out his hand. A second later, Savannah stepped through the door after him, her red hair gleaming like ribbons of copper streaming down her back. Logan bent down, and Savannah laughed at whatever he whispered into her ear.

They real y did make a cute couple, both of them rich, powerful, and beautiful. I didn’t know much about Savannah, besides the fact that she was an Amazon gifted with supernatural speed, but she real y did seem to like Logan. I could tel by the way she smiled at him.

It was the same way I always smiled at him-with my heart in my eyes for everyone to see.

Logan must have sensed me staring at him, because he looked in my direction. He hesitated a second, then lifted his hand.

I gritted my teeth, made myself smile, and waved back. Savannah peered around him, wondering who he was waving at. When she saw that it was me, her glossy lips flattened out. She grabbed the Spartan’s arm and pul ed him over to the other side of the coffee shop-as far away from me as she could get him and stil be in the same room. Logan looked back at me a second, his eyes dark, then fol owed her.

My stomach twisted, and I suddenly wanted another beer, another ale, another something to get the bitter taste out of my mouth-and take away the sharp, hol ow ache in my heart.

My plastic cup stil in hand, I leaned over past Drool Guy and twisted the knob on the keg he was protecting. Nothing came out.

Empty. Of course it was. Drool Guy had probably guzzled it al down hours ago. Since there wasn’t another keg within arm’s reach, I moved away from the wal and skirted through the crowd, careful to keep from touching anyone. I felt shitty enough already without flashing on someone and feeling his bender.

I tried a couple more kegs before I final y found one that stil had something in it. I turned the knob, and a dark brown liquid fil ed my cup. I sniffed it suspiciously. It was darker than the ale I’d had before and smel ed twice as sour, like someone had pissed in it. Maybe they had. Anything was possible at a Mythos party. I sighed and put the cup on the counter. I just couldn’t chug down the mystery booze, no matter how much I might have liked to get drunk right now.

I turned around, looking for Daphne and Carson, but I didn’t see them in the mass of thrashing bodies. Logan and Savannah stood about twenty feet off to my left, deep in conversation.

My stomach twisted again, and anger, frustration, and longing burned through my veins like acid. I had to get out of the coffee shop before I did something stupid-like start screaming about how unfair it was that Logan was here with another girl.

That a Reaper had tried to kil me twice now, and I’d almost been turned into puppy chow on the slopes by a Fenrir wolf. That I had a smartass magical sword that I didn’t real y know how to use and a goddess who’d chosen me to be her Champion, even though I was completely wrong for the job. That I wasn’t a warrior like the other kids and never would be, no matter how hard I tried or how much I wanted to be like them. Not to mention the fact that my mom had been kil ed by a drunk driver the cops had never been able to find and that I stil missed her so much, I sometimes cried myself to sleep. Yeah, I had a lot to scream about.

I turned and headed for the door, not real y caring who I bumped out of my way to get there. The coffeehouse suddenly felt as hot, smal , and cramped as a cage.

Along the way, I passed Kenzie and Oliver. The Spartans guys were joined at the hip like always, although tonight, they were tag-teaming their prey. Kenzie was turned one way, chatting to Talia Pizarro, a tal , pretty Amazon with ebony skin, while Oliver was at his back, talking to a girl that I didn’t recognize, some chick from the New York academy.

Oliver saw me looking at him, and his face tightened with anger. From the way he was glaring at me, it looked like he was stil pissed I’d brushed him off on the bus ride over here this morning. Whatever. I stil didn’t know why he’d sat down beside me to start with. I certainly wasn’t the person he had a crush on, so what was the point of trying to chat me up? I might not have gotten a crystal-clear picture of his mystery crush in my head when I’d accidental y touched Oliver’s supersecret notebook during weapons training, but I’d seen enough to know it wasn’t me.

Although the Spartan’s hard stare made me wonder why he was talking to the other girl in the first place. After al , she had white blond hair, not black hair like Oliver’s mystery crush had in my hazy flash.

I pushed away al thoughts of the Spartan and stepped outside.

The night air felt cool and crisp against my cheeks, and a few flakes of snow fluttered in the air. A soft breeze carried a sharp metal ic tang with it, whispering that even more of the white stuff was on the way. I looked up. There weren’t any stars out tonight, but a silver sliver of the moon peeked down at me for a few seconds before the thick clouds swal owed it up again. The Christmas lights that had been strung up in the alpine vil age winked on and off, flashing red, green, and gold against the blackness of the night.

I leaned against the coffee shop window, tucked my hands into my jacket pockets, and just breathed. In and out, in and out, the way my mom had taught me to whenever I was feeling scared, panicked, or upset. The slow, steady rhythm soothed me, chasing away some of my anger, frustration, and heartache. The music from the party stil thumped, but the sound was muffled out here-

just a low, growling rumble through the brick and glass of the building.

My peace and quiet lasted maybe two minutes before a Valkyrie wearing a tight, white turtleneck sweater, a green leather miniskirt, and ridiculously high-heeled boots teetered outside, stumbled away about thirty feet, bent over, and puked up al the beer she’d just drunk. I wrinkled my nose. Ugh. I so did not need to see that.

She straightened up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and I realized it was Morgan McDougal . The Valkyrie sensed me watching her and turned in my direction. We stood there staring at each other. Maybe it was just the flashing lights, but Morgan’s face looked as green as her skirt and matching boots.

"Do you, uh, need some help?" I asked.

Morgan opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but then she clamped her lips together and shook her head. Without another word, she turned and tottered off toward the hotel, her stiletto boots digging into the snow like spikes.