Chapter Thirteen
I froze, my hand still curled around Babs’s hilt, but I didn’t dare draw my sword. I hadn’t seen Lance unleash the chimeras in the library last night, so I didn’t know exactly how the scepter worked. But I was betting that he could summon the monsters before I could wrest that scepter out of his hand.
“Lance?” I asked, still playing dumb. “What are you doing? What’s that weird golden stick?”
I said that last part for the others’ benefit. For a moment, I didn’t hear anything through my earbud. Then Takeda let out a low curse.
“Lance has the scepter,” he muttered. “Ian, Zoe, forget about the safe. Go help Rory. Right now.”
“On it,” Ian replied. “We’re leaving the library.”
He and Zoe started talking to each other, and several loud clank-clank-clanks sounded, as though Zoe was stuffing her tools back into her purse. Since they were on their way, I tuned them out and focused on Lance again.
He started flipping the chimera scepter end over end in his hand, like it was a golden baton instead of a powerful artifact. “Oh, Rory. I expected more from you. A better performance, at the very least.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He flipped the scepter up into the air one more time, then caught it and stabbed it at me. “You know exactly what I mean. I saw you in the library last night, fighting my chimeras. I had forgotten what a fantastic warrior you are. So strong, so graceful, so deadly.”
Lance smiled, but his lips slowly twisted into more of a sneer. His condescending expression and compliments made me sick to my stomach.
“Let’s be honest. You know that I’m a Reaper, that I’m the one who stole Typhon’s Scepter from the library.” He shrugged. “I’m sure your new Protectorate friends told you all about it. After all, you’re Gwen Frost’s cousin. They have an interest in you. In making sure that you’re on their side for the upcoming war.”
“And what’s your interest in me?” I asked. “Because I don’t think that you asked me up here just because you think I’m cute.”
He let out a low laugh. The sound made my skin crawl. “I wasn’t lying when I said that you were cute earlier today. Then again, I’ve always been attracted to strong women.”
My hand clenched a little tighter around Babs’s hilt. I would show him exactly how strong I was when I took that scepter away from him. Lance smirked at me, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. I hoped he did, and I hoped he realized how badly this was going to end for him.
“But cute or not, you’re right. That’s not why I asked you up here. I wanted you out of the way so that my friends could capture your friends.” He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and brought the device up to his mouth. “Take them. Now.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, through my earbud, I heard Ian let out a vicious curse. He shouted at Zoe to get behind him, and then a series of crashes and bangs sounded, so loud that they made me wince. Mateo started yelling too, telling Ian that the security cameras were down and that he couldn’t see anything on his monitors. I could also hear Takeda barking out orders to someone, demanding to know where the Protectorate reinforcements were and how long it would take them to get to the mansion.
I stepped back, ready to run out the office to go help Ian and Zoe, but Lance slashed the chimera scepter through the air in a warning motion. I froze again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he said. “You’re going to stay right here where I can keep an eye on you, Rory.”
“What do you want, Lance?” I snapped. “What’s the point of all this?”
A smug, satisfied grin filled his face. It made me want to punch him even more than before.
“The point is that my friends and I have finally found a way for the Reapers to take control, not only of all the Mythos Academies and the Protectorate but of everything, of the entire world.” He waggled the chimera scepter at me. “And guess how we’re going to do that?”
My stomach twisted at the obvious answer. “Artifacts. You’re going to use artifacts.”
“Ding, ding, we have a winner.” He waved the scepter around again, pointing it at the swords on the wall. “As you can see, my dad loved to collect weapons. He never saw a rusty old sword or dagger that he didn’t want, and he spent all the Fuller family fortune buying every single weapon he could get his hands on.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, still playing dumb. “What happened to your dad?”
“He was desperate for money, so he started stealing weapons and armor from the Protectorate warehouse where he worked in New York and selling them to the Reapers.” Lance’s face darkened. “And the Protectorate killed him for it. Slaughtered him in a raid.”
That matched what Linus Quinn had said—and it also sounded like the story Zoe had told me about Ian and his brother, Drake. Could Lance’s father have worked with Ian’s brother? I didn’t know, and it wasn’t important right now. All that mattered was getting that scepter away from Lance before he conjured up any chimeras. Then I could go help Ian and Zoe.
I moved forward a couple of steps, trying to get into position to lunge at Lance and grab the scepter. “Is that why you stole the scepter? Is that why you’re planning to give it to Sisyphus? Because the Protectorate killed your dad and you want revenge on them?”
Lance barked out a harsh laugh. “Well, it’s certainly a bonus, but no, I didn’t join the Reapers only for revenge.”
I crept forward another step. “Then why?”
“Because Sisyphus is right. For centuries, Reapers hid in the shadows, sneaking around and waiting for Loki to return. Well, Loki is gone for good now, but we’re still here. And you know what? I’m tired of playing by the Protectorate’s rules. I’m tired of being a good little warrior and pretending to blend in with the regular humans when I’m so much better than they are.” That bright, fanatical light burned in his eyes again. “We’re warriors. We’re the ones with magic and artifacts and fighting skills. We’re the ones with the real power, and we should act like it. We should be in charge, not these weak, inferior mortals who wouldn’t know the sharp end of a sword if you stabbed them in the gut with it.”
I shook my head. “Wow, this Sisyphus guy really did a number on you. He’s totally brainwashed you.”
Lance barked out another laugh. “Sisyphus didn’t do anything but show me the truth about how the world should work. How the world will work, once we’re through with it.”
I took another step forward, adjusting my grip on Babs’s hilt and getting ready to pull the sword free of her scabbard. I would only have one shot to get that scepter away from Lance, and I had to make it count.
“Well, here’s a news flash for you. I don’t care what your evil master plan is, because it’s never going to happen,” I snapped. “The Protectorate will stop you and Sisyphus and all the other Reapers.”
“No, they won’t. The Protectorate won’t be able to stand against us—not with you on our side, Rory.”
“Me? Join the Reapers?” I let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “Now I know you’re crazy.”
Lance tilted his head to the side and gave me a knowing look. “We’ll see about that.”
My heart squeezed with worry. What was he talking about? Why did he think that I would join the Reapers? I would never do that—never. But Lance was talking about it like it was a foregone conclusion. What did he know that I didn’t?
I stepped forward to demand some answers, but the office doors burst open, and Ian and Zoe staggered into the room. My heart lifted, thinking that they were here to help me, but they weren’t the only ones who came into the office.
Half a dozen Reapers stormed in behind them.
* * *
I drew my sword and whirled around, ready to battle the Reapers, but Lance pointed the gold scepter at me again.
“Stop,” he commanded. “Unless you want to fight some more chimeras.”
Six Reapers was bad enough, but add chimeras to the mix, and they could easily kill us, along with all the other kids partying downstairs. So I bit back a curse and held my position, with Babs still clutched in my hand.
The Reapers brandished their swords at Ian and Zoe and shoved them to the middle of the office, several feet away from where I was standing. I had been so focused on Lance that I hadn’t paid attention to the noises echoing through my earbud, but the fight had not gone Ian and Zoe’s way.
Blood dripped out of Ian’s broken nose, and his knuckles were red and swollen from where he’d hit the Reapers. Zoe had a nasty bruise on her right cheek, and a long bloody gash sliced along her right arm from where a Reaper had cut her with a sword.
Ian stood absolutely still, his hands clenched into fists, the muscles in his neck and shoulders stiff with anger and tension. Zoe winced and cradled her injured arm up against her chest, along with her purse, as if the enormous bag would shield her from further harm. Pain glimmered in her hazel eyes, and blue sparks of magic oozed out of her fingertips and spattered like raindrops onto the thick rugs underfoot.
The two of them were battered but still breathing, so I turned my attention to the Reapers. Like every other Reaper I had ever seen, all six of them were wearing long black cloaks with the hoods pulled up. But to my surprise, they weren’t wearing the usual rubber masks of Loki’s melted face. Instead, these Reapers sported black harlequin masks with large blood-red diamond shapes over their eyes. New masks for a new group of evil. Terrific. Just terrific.
“Good,” Lance drawled. “I’m so glad that Ian and Zoe could join our party.”
Ian drew back his fist and surged forward like he was going to hit Lance, but one of the Reapers grabbed Ian’s shoulder and pressed a dagger up against his throat, making him stop short. The Reaper dug the blade into Ian’s neck, breaking the skin and causing blood to trickle down his throat. The message was clear: quit fighting or get your throat cut. Ian didn’t have a choice, so he quit fighting. For now.
“Good,” Lance repeated. “Now that the Viking has decided to be reasonable, we can continue our conversation.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Ian snarled.
Lance smirked. “Oh, I think you’ll be very interested in what I have to say. Especially since it involves your beloved big brother.”
Ian jerked back, as though he’d been punched in the gut. “What do you mean? What do you know about Drake?”
Lance smirked at him again and started pacing back and forth from one side of the office to the other. He was still clutching the chimera scepter, and he slashed it through the air in time to his movements. I held my breath, wondering if he might accidentally summon a chimera, but nothing happened.
“Guys,” Takeda whispered in an urgent voice through my earbud. “The Protectorate reinforcements will be here in five minutes. Mateo and I are calling in the guards around the mansion and leaving the van right now. Just stay alive until we can get there and help you.”
I kept my face blank, not giving any indication that I’d heard him, but Zoe shifted on her feet, and more blue sparks of magic dripped out of her fingertips. She gave me a worried look. She had heard Takeda too, but she knew as well as I did that it would take him, Mateo, and the guards several minutes to shove their way through all the kids in the mansion and make it up to the office. We could be dead long before they reached us.
Ian didn’t show any sign that he had heard Takeda. Instead, he glared at Lance, still focused on what the other boy had said.
“What do you know about Drake?” Ian demanded again.
Lance stopped pacing, leaned back against the desk, and crossed his arms over his chest. The gold chimera scepter glimmered in his left hand—the hand that was closest to me. Once again, I thought about lunging forward and snatching the scepter away from Lance, but I couldn’t do that. Not while that Reaper still had a dagger at Ian’s throat.
“Drake? Why, he and my dad both worked at the same Protectorate warehouse in New York. My dad got transferred there earlier this year after the battle at the North Carolina academy.” Lance grinned. “My dad and Drake really hit it off. Did you know that it was Drake’s idea to start stealing weapons and artifacts from the warehouse and sell them to Sisyphus and the rest of Drake’s Reaper friends?”
Ian’s hands balled into fists again, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. Zoe winced in sympathy. Yeah, me too. It was one thing to know that your brother was a Reaper. It was another to have someone rub your face in it the way Lance was doing.
“But of course the Protectorate found out what they were doing, and my dad was killed in that raid.” Lance’s face darkened again. “But they say that when one door closes, a window opens. In this case, my dad died, but I made a new friend.”
“What do you mean?” Ian snapped.
Instead of answering him, Lance gestured at the Reaper who was still holding that dagger on Ian. The Reaper lowered the dagger, slid the weapon into a holster on his belt, and strode over to where Lance was leaning against the desk.
The Reaper turned to face everyone. He pulled off his black gloves and threw them on top of the desk, then reached up and pushed back the hood of his black cloak, revealing his golden hair.
“Oh, no,” Zoe whispered.
I glanced at her, wondering what she meant, but her horrified gaze was focused on the Reaper. So was Ian’s.
The Reaper grabbed his black harlequin mask and drew it up and over his head, revealing his face. He was in his early twenties, a couple of years older than the rest of us. His eyes were a sharp, piercing blue, but the rest of his handsome features were shockingly familiar. Great cheekbones, straight nose, strong jaw. Even though I had never seen him before, I still knew exactly who he was.
Drake Hunter—Ian’s older brother.