Touch of Sibyl

Chapter Twenty.four

Before I could save Morgan, I had to save myself from the panther.

I didn't have time to think about what I was doing, so I threw the book that I'd palmed at the panther. I got lucky, because the thick volume hit the creature square in the nose, making it hesitate and throwing it a bit off balance. I dove underneath the closest library table, and the creature landed on top of it, instead of on me.

The panther dug its claws into the wood, ripping it apart like it was made of toothpicks. I crawled out from underneath the collapsing table, scrambled to my feet, and ran toward the open double doors. But the panther was quicker than I was. With a mighty leap, it flew through the air over my head and landed in front of me, putting itself between me and my escape.

I immediately backed up. The panther growled and started stalking me again, enjoying the game of big, big cat, little, little mouse.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jessy turn away from Morgan to stare at me.

"You won't get away from it again," she said. "This one isn't an illusion, and this time, the Spartan's not around to save you."

"That's where you're wrong," another voice called out.

Zac Quinn stood in the doorway of the library. He still wore his tuxedo, but he'd stopped to pick up two other accessories along the way-a shield and a spear. The silver shield was strapped to his left arm, while he held the spear in his free hand. Somehow, he looked right with them, like they belonged to him and him alone. I thought about what Nica had said about why the other kids were here. Zac knew his destiny as a Spartan, as a warrior. I just hoped that I wouldn't be the death of him tonight.

The panther hissed again as soon as it saw Zac, recognizing him as the real threat. The Spartan tightened his grip on his shield, and a sort of cold calm filled his face. He wasn't going to run away from the prowler-he was going to fight it to the death just like he had before. Only this time, the creature wasn't an illusion. Somehow, I knew that made it even bigger, stronger, and deadlier than before.

After a moment, Zac's icy eyes flicked to me. "Ava, go! Get help-"

That was all Zac got out before the panther threw itself at him.

Instead of doing as he asked, I picked up the book that I'd thrown at the panther before and ran back to the middle of the library, where Jessy still stood over Morgan, the dagger glinting in her hand. While I would have loved nothing more than to run away, find Professor Tin, and tell her every twisted thing that was going on, I knew that if I did, Jessy would kill Morgan and finish whatever bizarre ritual she'd started. My mom had never run from a fight when she'd been a detective, and I wasn't going to now.

Jessy saw me coming and stepped away from Morgan, pointing her dagger in my direction. Not good. But I was too committed to back down now. For all I knew, the second I turned my back Jessy would throw the dagger and kill me that way. She could do it. She was a warrior, too, and had been training to be one for years.

"You should have just let it go, Sibyl," Jessy murmured, stepping up to meet me. "You should have just not paid any attention to my death the way that the others did."

I skidded to a stop in front of her. "Tell me one thing: Why didn't you kill me that night in the library when you had the chance? The night you hit me on the head, I assume with that stupid dagger you're holding, and knocked me out. Why didn't you just slit my throat then?"

She shrugged. "Because you were nobody. I didn't even know your name. You didn't have any real power, nothing that I could take or use, so what was the point in killing you?"

My fingers tightened around the book, and for a moment I thought about Paris Forrest. She hadn't had any power either. According to my mom, Paris's stepdad had told her that if she didn't do what he said, if she didn't let him touch her, then he'd go down the hall to her little sister's room. That's why Paris hadn't told anyone what was going on. So she had done the only thing that she could-she'd given me her hairbrush to touch.