Sick thing was I wasn’t sure what was constantly drawing me to her more—her, or what was in her. Maybe a mixture of both. It didn’t matter.

Josie didn’t have to be here. She could be with Luke and Deacon. There was no reason for her to be alone.

I passed the ancient caretaker who was probably older than the dirt she was digging around in, my steps soundless as I followed the now familiar path. Josie never knew I was here. It would stay that way. I would remain in the background, waiting until she left, and then I would make sure she got back to the dorm. Then I—

Josie’s soft laugh stopped me dead in my tracks. “It’s not really that exciting,” she said. “I hardly know what I’m doing most of the time.”

What the hell? I stepped over a low stone wall, going where no man had probably gone before. Careful not to trample the cluster of peonies, I unlocked a whole new level of creepiness by peering through the thick vines at her. My gut immediately tightened.

What the fuck?

Sitting on the bench beside her was not Luke or Deacon. It was that guy again, the one that had been with her when she’d used the air element. Colin was his name.

“It’s still awesome,” he said, and, oh yeah, real fucking awesome. His entire body was twisted toward her. “Your father is Apollo. That’s pretty amazing.”

My jaw locked down. What was she telling this douche? She didn’t know him. I didn’t know him.

One of her shoulders rose as she fiddled with the sweater in her lap. She was always moving some part of her body. Fingers. Legs. Feet. “I guess so. I’ve only seen him a couple times. He’s busy doing . . . god stuff.”

Colin shook his head. “What about your mother?”

My eyes narrowed as Josie really started twisting the sweater between her hands. “She’s not here,” she replied after a beat of silence. “I mean, she’s with Apollo. With everything going on with the Titans, it’s not safe for her here.”

“Understandable.” He finally looked away from her, and that was a good thing, because I was beginning to think those blue eyes would look excellent on the ground, lying among the damn peonies. “I was kind of lucky, you know? My mom was mortal, and she knew the truth. My father—a pure-blood—loved her. He didn’t care that she was mortal.”

I didn’t give two shits if his mother was Hera.

Behind me, a throat cleared.

Looking over my shoulder, I spied the ancient, knocking-on-death’s-door caretaker. I could barely see the face under the wide brim straw hat, but I could feel the disapproving glare in every cell of my being.