Athena realized now how different her mother was from her father. The miracle had never come to her father, just her mother, and Nonna and Nonna’s mother before her. A long line, her mother had told her, all the way back to the ancient world of Greece. To the priestesses of Delphi. Athena wondered about that, but before she could do or say anything more, her eyes drooped. The trauma of the past night had wrung her out. Miracles…and curses…were indeed exhausting.
Mikayla’s black eyebrows furrowed.
Athena rushed to explain. “She’s not a chick. She’s a man, a dangerous man. A killer.”
“What? How do you know all that?”
“Ohh.” Mikayla murmured. “Your clairvoyance. But are you sure?”
“Oh yes, I’m positive. You and I are both in danger.”
Mikayla sank down on her bed and stared hard at her. Athena inhaled and ran her hand over the windowsill. Even now, she could sense his evil presence. The acrid emanations flowing off the places he touched in their apartment…were unmistakable and as palpable as a skunk’s stench.
Outside, as they climbed into Kas’s SUV, wearing their winter parkas and mountain boots over jeans and sweaters, Athena couldn’t resist teasing him. “Do you normally lie to your father?”
Kas grunted. “If I’d told him what we were about to do, he’d insist on coming along. Besides, Mom knows and she won’t tell him, either. She doesn’t like it but she knows we must stop this creep. And no, she didn’t tell me the outcome, either.” He checked the back seat where he’d put the steel-toothed metal cutter, then patted first his ankle, then his jeans pocket. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Her pulse began to pound even as Kas pulled out of the driveway. She knew he’d strapped a gun holster to his right ankle. He sometimes carried spare bullets in a pants pocket.
No turning back now, she told herself.