Dark Frost by Jennifer Estep Read Free Book Online

probably chased after the Reapers when they’d left.
    The librarian looked just as wild and haggard as I felt, but concern filled his face as he stared at the blood on my clothes and on Vic. For the first time, I realized that maybe Nickamedes did care about the academy students after all—even me.
    “Gwendolyn?” Nickamedes asked again. “Where’s Logan?”
    “He’s fine. He went looking for you.”
    I slowly lowered my sword to my side, cold exhaustion filling my body like ice water being poured into a glass. I stared out at the dead students and all the other ones who were still bleeding and crying.
    “Are you okay?” Nickamedes asked in a soft voice.
    “I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean.” I shook my head. “But I don’t know that I’ll ever be okay again.”

Chapter 4
     
    I don’t remember much of what happened after that. Well, that’s not exactly true. I remembered—I would always remember—even if all I wanted to do was forget.
    Nickamedes called the Powers That Were at Mythos Academy, and thirty minutes later, other people started arriving. Most of them were professors at the academy, like Mr. Llew, my calculus teacher, Mrs. Banba, the economics prof, and Coach Lir, who oversaw the academy swim teams. Nobody called the cops. The regular mortal police wouldn’t understand what had happened, and they just weren’t equipped to fight Reapers—or to deal with the deadly destruction they’d caused.
    Several other adults appeared as well, men and women dressed in heavy black coveralls. They opened the coliseum doors and pushed metal carts covered with black bags inside. I knew what they were here for—to load up the bodies and take them to the academy morgue. I shuddered and kept my gaze away from them.
    Professor Metis and Coach Ajax showed up, too, since they were part of the academy’s security council. Metis and Ajax, along with Nickamedes, were responsible for keeping the students safe while they were at Mythos. But we weren’t at the academy right now—and no one had been safe today.
    What surprised me most was the fact that Raven came to the museum. Raven was the woman who manned the coffee cart in the Library of Antiquities, one of the many duties she seemed to have at the academy. She was an old woman with white hair, black eyes, and a face that was streaked with wrinkles. Raven sported a flowing white gown just like the ones the coliseum staff had worn, although a pair of black combat boots peeked out from underneath her long skirt.
    Raven stood off to one side of the museum, gazing out at the destruction. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and I could see old, faded scars on her skin there, along with dark brown liver spots. She noticed me staring at her, and our eyes met. For a moment, her image wavered, like there was another, younger, prettier face beneath her wrinkles. But the really weird thing was that I felt something when I looked into her eyes—an aching wave of pain and sadness so intense that it made tears start to trickle down my own cheeks. Like somehow the attack today was all her fault... .
    I blinked, and she was just Raven once more, the old woman who sold snacks in the library. The pain and sadness were gone and so were the tears I’d thought had been sliding down my face. I reached up, but my skin was completely dry. Weird. Really weird.
    I looked at Raven, but she ignored me, walked over, and started speaking to the woman who was loading Samson’s body onto a metal cart. Raven moved through the crowd, talking to the adults who were here to clear away the blood and debris. Overseeing them must be another one of her academy odd jobs. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, since she was on the security council with Metis and the others.
    After another minute, I pushed Raven out of my mind. Her flickering face wasn’t the most awful thing I’d seen today. My eyes lingered on a smear of blood on the white marble floor.
    Not even close.
     
    An hour