He shakes his head and lets his words trail off.

Well, I’m not about to let him get off that easy.

“You thought what?” I demand. “That you could just stand by and watch while my sisters and I got killed for the bounties on our heads?”

“No, of course not.” He turns to face me, and I’m disappointed to see only the tiniest trickle of blood from his nose. Either my aim is off or he’s got some of that supernatural healing power my sisters and I share.

He adds, “I don’t know anything about a bounty.”

Anger boils through me, and I think if a scolopendra climbed out of the sea and went for Nick right now, I’d let the thing eat him. After I let its snot-covered nostril hairs rub all over him for a while. I should have let the skorpios hybrid spear him with her tail. Or let the griffin claw his face—

“You saw them.” How did I not realize this earlier? My hands clench tighter. “You saw them all. The monsters I was fighting.”

He nods, not even ashamed. “Yes, I saw them.”

“I should have known you could see their true forms,” I mutter. “No way you landed that punch square between the griffin’s eyes by accident.”

“Look, Gretchen, I wanted to tell you, but—” he begins.

“But what?” I interrupt. “You were having too much fun teasing me? Mocking me for thinking you might actually be interested in me? I am such a jerk.”

“No,” he insists. “That’s not it at all. I was following orders.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “It’s complicated.”

I snort. If that isn’t a code word for I don’t want to explain the truth, then I don’t know what is.

“Fine.” I sneer. “What can you tell me?”

“Not much more than you already know,” he says. “There are those who would like to see you and your sisters dead, and there are those who would like to see you succeed.”

“Which side are you on?”

His eyes shift a little to the side. “I’m protecting you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know—are you?” I retort. “And that wasn’t an answer.”

“Look, I can’t give you all the answers.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “I won’t. Too many are risking their lives—even their very immortality—to ensure the right outcome. I can’t expose them any more than you would expose your sisters if you didn’t have to.”

I grind my teeth and try to pretend he doesn’t have a point.

Just because I might believe him, though, doesn’t mean I have to like it.

He grabs my shoulders and turns my body toward him. I let him do it, but I keep my face turned to the ocean.

“I am interested in you, Gretchen.” When I still won’t look at him, he presses his fingers against my jaw and gently turns my face. He is looking straight in my eyes when he says, “I’m interested in you.”

His midnight blues burn with an intensity that almost makes me believe him. Makes me want to believe him. He knows just the right thing to say to mess with my mind. He always has. He leans in closer, watching me. His lips are a breath away from mine.

This time I’m not buying it.

My knee connects with his soft spot and he doubles over, gasping for air.

“Find your own way home,” I snap before turning and marching back to my car.

I’m squealing out of the parking lot when it hits me that I don’t have a home to go to anymore. A place to sleep, yes. Not a home. My vision blurs and I realize there are tears in my eyes. Tears. For the love of Medusa, I’m turning into an emotional mess.

I quickly wipe away the moisture and focus on driving. Focus on getting to the safe house. I won’t find answers there, but I’ll find a bed and a good night’s sleep. In the morning, my head will be clearer and I’ll figure out a game plan.

All I know right now is that the first item on the list will be finding and rescuing Ursula.

My first instinct is to visit the one person I know has a connection to the mythological world. When I visited her a few days ago, she helped me locate the immortal Gorgon Sthenno in the city, which helped Grace figure out that Sthenno is her school counselor. If anyone can help me figure out how to rescue Ursula, how to figure out if Nick is what he now appears to be, she’s the one. The oracle.

At this time of night the streets of her neighborhood are practically deserted. I park Moira right in front of the vacant-looking storefront, facing the wrong direction so I can jump out closest to the door. I click the remote locks as I reach for the handle on the oracle’s front door.

I expect the handle to turn easily, as it has the two previous times I’ve visited her. But the tarnished gold doesn’t budge. Jerking at it a few more times, I have to accept the fact that the door is locked.

I pound on the glass, thinking that maybe she locks the door at night to keep out the unsavories. She could be inside, in the back, or maybe sleeping. I’m not sure if this is her home or simply a place where she hangs out.

There is no sound beyond the door. No light leaks out around the heavy velvet drapes. No indication of anything alive or awake within.

I give the door one final pounding, rattling the hinges and shaking the glass in the frame.

Nothing.

I turn and stalk back to Moira, swinging into the driver’s seat and turning over the engine as I click my seatbelt into place. For a second I pause, hands on the steering wheel, figuring out my next play.