Memory Game by Zoe Cannon

Author:Zoe Cannon [Cannon, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Whatever she looked like on the outside, Ellarose Mackenzie was half god, and that put her among the top five most dangerous people on the planet. If I gave her a reason to, she could burn me up with a touch. Along with the house, and Bastian’s car, and Hades’s temple, and possibly half of New York City by the time she reached her full strength.

So of course the most logical next step was to walk up and knock on her door.

Bastian stood behind me, red sparks dancing at his fingertips. “You might want to tone that down until you see an actual threat,” I muttered as I waited for the door to open. “We don’t want to scare them off.”

“They’ve both seen more impressive power than mine.” But the sparks faded, although he kept his hands tensed at his sides.

I knocked again. I heard muted voices from inside the house, but the door didn’t open.

Just as I was about to tell Bastian it was for the best, since knocking on a demigod’s door was probably not among the smartest plans in the universe, the door squealed on its rusted hinges. It opened barely far enough for the woman I had seen in the kitchen to peek her head out, her brow a single line of suspicion. “What do you want?”

No stories this time. I had run through a dozen possibilities, and discarded them all. I had given myself a new objective—make sure no harm came to Ellarose unless absolutely necessary. If I was going to protect her, hiding out in the shed wasn’t going to cut it; Bastian and I needed to be by her side. We needed her—and her mother—to trust us, and if she was going to trust us, we had to trust her. And that meant we had to be honest—or at least as honest as possible.

“I’m guessing you’re Julia Mackenzie. It’s nice to meet you.” I gave her a little wave. “We know your daughter is a demigod. I was sent to kill her. I’m not going to do that. We want to protect her against the people who are after her, and we can probably manage that a lot better than you can, so we’d like to sit down and talk with you about what we need to do and how.”

I took a breath and waited for Julia to let us in, or slam yet another door in our faces, or possibly pull a weapon.

Instead she stared at us as if I had told her we had crash-landed our flying saucer in her backyard.

“Excuse me,” she said, as if she wasn’t sure whether to be offended or simply confused, “what did you call my daughter?”

My expression mirrored hers. “Are you telling me you didn’t know?”

“My daughter may be different, but she’s not some… some creature out of mythology.”

“‘Creature’ is a bit harsh. Scary-powerful half-divine being is more like it.”

“But you’re still talking about myths. Stories. My daughter is flesh and blood.”

“So are the gods.

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