her way to be snotty to me. Try as I might, I could never seem to get the best of the Amazon, not even dream up a quick comeback to get her to shut up.
Helena whispered something to her friends, and they all started snickering. My hand tightened around my mug of tea. Not for the first time, I wished that I had an Amazon’s quickness so I could bean Helena in the head with it. But she would only catch the mug and throw it back at me before I could blink.
“Ignore them,” Logan said. “They’re just jealous that you’re here with me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. You and your ego.”
His grin widened, and I couldn’t help but laugh. No matter how bad things got, the Spartan could always make me laugh, if only for a moment. Something else that added to that warm, fizzy feeling in my chest.
We sat there in silence, listening to the murmurs from the other kids and the gurgles of the espresso machines. After all the battles we’d survived recently, it was nice to just hang out with Logan without worrying about what was going to happen next or what Reapers might be lurking around, masquerading as students, professors, or even the coffee shop staff.
But after a few minutes, the reality of the situation hit me. I was on a date with Logan freaking Quinn, one of the cutest guys at Mythos—and I had no idea what to say to him.
“So . . .” I said. “What do people talk about on dates?”
Logan looked up from his espresso. “What do you mean?”
I shifted in my seat. “I mean, you have a lot more experience at this than I do.”
In fact, Logan had a reputation for being a total man-whore who went from one girl to the next. Me? I’d had exactly one boyfriend for a grand total of three weeks before I’d met Logan. So going on a date was still sort of a new experience for me. Besides, the Spartan had this natural, easy charm that made everyone like him—girls and guys alike. Me? I was about as charming as a wet sock.
“I know what we talk about at the academy. You know, weapons training, where Loki might be hiding, when he’s going to come and kill us all, how we’re supposed to stop him.”
Actually, that last one was more like how I was supposed to kill the god. Yeah, me, kill an actual living, breathing, walking, talking god. And not just any god, but Loki, who was pretty much evil incarnate.
But that was the seemingly impossible mission that Nike had given me the last time I’d seen her a couple of weeks ago—something that I hadn’t shared with Logan or any of my friends. Kill a god. I had no idea how the goddess expected me to do that. I had no idea how anyone could do that, especially me, Gwen Frost, that weird Gypsy girl who touched stuff and saw things.
Logan kept staring at me, and I found myself opening my mouth once more.
“I guess we could talk about how I’m actually getting a little better at using weapons, although I doubt that I’ll ever be in your league. Or we could talk about Nyx, and how totally cute she is. Or Daphne and her healing magic. Or Carson and how obsessed he is with the winter concert the band is putting together . . .”
Babbling. I was finally out on a real date with Logan, and I was babbling like a wind-up doll someone had cranked into high gear.
Logan reached over and put his hand on top of mine, which was still wrapped around my mug. “Relax, Gypsy girl. Relax. You’re doing fine. We don’t have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to. I’m just happy to be here with you. It’s nice to just sit here and relax, with everything that’s been going on these past few weeks. You know?”
His fingers felt warm against my own, but more than that, I felt the warmth in Logan’s heart—and all his feelings. His strength, his bravery, his determination to fight Reapers and to protect me no matter what. All those images, all those feelings, flashed through my mind, driving away all my doubts about me, Logan, and everything else that was going on right now.
My Gypsy gift let me know, see, and feel the history of any object I touched. Given that, I had to be careful about touching