He raised his sword again and I stood there, staring at him. Because surely this wasn’t happening.

My dad shoved Achilles from behind, throwing him toward me but also forcing him to deal with the coffee table between us, which he fell flat on, cracking the glass top, falling with the shards to the floor.

“Lena Bean, run!”

The other soldiers had a different idea. I took a step to the right and one grabbed my arm, yanking me toward him. I dug my heels into the carpet and jerked backward, fear making me pull with all I had.

He flew through the air, over my head, his eyes as wide as Mom’s fine china dinner plates.

Tad pushed one of the other soldiers down, creating a tiny pocket for me to slip through. He grabbed my hand and we ran through the house, through the kitchen, and out the sliding glass door. The yard was soggy with rainwater and we were in bare feet. The mud and grass squished through my toes, but it wasn’t cold. Not like it should have been.

All thoughts of cold feet flew from my head as the glass doors behind us shattered, and Achilles and his men poured out into the backyard. I backed up, already knowing we were screwed.

The fence completely circled the yard, was eight feet high, and had no gate, which was a long-standing argument between my parents. Dad wanted a gate; Mom said it would only encourage thieves to sneak in through the back.

Right at the moment, I was wishing we’d given the thieves an in.

“Boost me!” Tad ran to the fence and I followed. I cupped my hands and he put his foot in. I boosted him up. A little too hard. He flew fifteen feet into the air, his body twisting as he fell on the other side of the fence.

“You have no one to save you now, monster.” Achilles approached, swinging his sword in a lazy circle.

“That’s what you think,” Yaya said from behind him. He spun as the arc of the frying pan flew straight and true. The cast iron smashed into Achilles’s head. He dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap.

“Ooh-eee. Did you see his eyes roll back?” Yaya waved the pan at the soldier closest to her. The soldier seemed less than impressed as he pulled his sword arm back and held up his shield. As if going to do battle with a true foe.

Yaya was going to get us both killed.

But I was a Super Duper now. There had to be perks to being one of the monsters. Most were stronger and faster than humans, and if flinty-eyed Smithy was any indication, I should be able to outmaneuver these soldiers. Time to see if there was any truth in that. I ran toward Yaya, scooped her up with one arm, and bolted for the house before I questioned if what I was doing was even possible. All in the matter of barely two heartbeats.

“The glass, Lena!” Yaya shouted, and I leapt. We soared over the broken glass of the table, and I landed in a crouch well inside the kitchen, Yaya still tucked tight under one arm like an oversized, mouthy football.

“Mom, Dad. I gotta go. Don’t tell Roger I’m alive,” I yelled as I ran through the house, still clutching my yaya. “I want to surprise him.”

Yaya cackled with laughter as we raced through the front door and out onto the steps. Yaya’s baby-blue 1981 Granada waited for us, Tad at the wheel.

“Thanks, Yaya.” I kissed her on the cheek and put her down.

“I’m coming with you, Lena Bean.” She swatted me on the bum, and I scooted down the steps ahead of her. She made her way down the steps, all but dancing. I slipped into the backseat, leaving her the front. She got in and tapped on the dash. “Go, boy. Before that meathead wakes up.”

We drove away at a good clip, all three of us quiet for a moment before the silence was broken.

All three of us tried to talk at once, a mash-up of questions and explanations. “Stop, both of you.” Yaya held up her hands.

I closed my mouth. Yaya looked over the bench seat at me. “We need to figure out what Merlin did to you. Your brother is a naga. It’s the only form that was allowed. Merlin is dabbling in things he shouldn’t again.”

I frowned. “You’re talking about him like he’s the Merlin and not just some wannabe who decided it was good name.”

Yaya stared hard at me. “How do you know he isn’t? The world is a much bigger place than you and your brother were ever shown. You were kept blind to the supernatural, more so because of our family history than anything else. That is the only reason I allowed your mother to go crazy with the Firstamentalists. It was a way to keep you all safe from . . . things I thought you’d never need to know.”

Tad turned onto the main highway, sped up, and merged into traffic while the Granada’s engine protested. “Yaya. You aren’t really a priestess of Zeus . . . are you?”

“Of course I am. Why do you think I don’t give two horny figs if I went to church with your parents or not? I went to keep your mother happy, and I only took her at all because I needed to look like I’d renounced my vows. That’s all. I don’t actually think that crap they dole out about supernaturals being the devil is right. Or even reasonable. You know, some of my best friends back in the day were supernaturals.”

I reached up and gripped the back of the bench seat, the pleather creaking under my fingers. “Yaya. Why did you make us go to church, then? Is it because of Uncle Owen?”

“Because I was trying to keep you safe.” Her eyes filled with tears. “When I lost Owen, all I could think about was keeping the rest of you away from danger. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing any of you. One thing about the Firsts, they are safe.” She shook her head, her gray curls bouncing. “I tried, but your bloodlines are too strong. I told your mother your father would be trouble if she married him, but she didn’t listen to me. And now look. You two are both supernaturals just like—” Her teeth clicked shut and I shot a look at Tad. I had a feeling my eyes were probably as wide as his.