Midnight Frost

what he’d done. Then, he turned, went over to the study table where he’d been sitting, and gathered up his things. Now that his mission was complete, he was leaving the library, leaving the scene of the crime.
    My eyes narrowed. Not if I could help it.
    I scrambled to my feet and started to run.

Chapter 5
    I ran into the stairwell and raced down the steps as fast as I could. I was in such a rush that I jumped down the last five steps, almost falling on my face before I managed to right myself at the last second. I drew in a breath and hurried along the back wall of the library. More than a few couples stood in the shadowy stacks, eagerly macking on each other, but I didn’t have time to be disgusted by the PDAs. My focus was on stopping the Reaper boy—nothing else mattered right now.
    I broke free of the stacks and skidded to a halt in the middle of the main aisle. Jason had been walking toward the open double doors that led out of the library. He’d been texting on his phone, and his head snapped up at the squeak-squeak-squeak of my sneakers on the floor.
    “You!” I screamed, pointing my finger at him. “Jason Anderson! Stop right there!”
    The Reaper froze. He was in the middle of the study tables, and all the kids stared at him, then me, wondering what was going on.
    I slowly walked toward him, not sure what other tricks he might be plotting. Jason blinked and stuffed his phone into his jacket pocket. His hand also dropped down, and he fumbled with a zipper on his backpack. I picked up my pace and charged at him, not wanting to give him the chance to draw a weapon on me, especially since Vic was still in his spot behind the checkout counter.
    I put my shoulder down and barreled into the Reaper, laying him out like a linebacker would a quarterback, and we both went down in a heap, slip-slip-sliding across the slick floor. All sorts of things slid out of his open backpack—books, pens, his laptop, a sword encased in a red leather scabbard.
    “Gwen!” Oliver’s voice rang out above the confused shouts of the other kids.
    “Reaper!” I yelled back, surging to my feet. “He’s a Reaper!”
    Jason reached out, snatched up his sword, pulled the weapon free of the scabbard, and got back on his feet.
    “Die, Gypsy!” Jason hissed at me.
    He raised his sword high, and I ducked to one side. The blade sliced by my shoulder and sank into the top of one of the study tables, right in front of where Helena Paxton, a mean-girl Amazon, had been sitting. Helena shrieked, pushed her chair back, and stumbled away.
    Jason cursed and struggled to pull his weapon free of the wood. I snatched up one of Helena’s books off the table, darted forward, and slammed it into the side of his head. He cursed again and lashed out at me with his fist. I turned, so that the blow only dug into my shoulder, but I still yelped as pain exploded in the joint and shot down into my arm, making me lose my grip on the book, which clattered to the floor. He definitely packed a punch with his great Viking strength. I started to throw myself forward again, but Jason managed to pull his weapon free. I stopped short. He grinned, realizing that I didn’t have a sword, and he crept even closer to me.
    “Now what you are going to do, Gypsy?” he taunted.
    Jason raised his blade for another strike, and I lurched to the side—
    A pencil zipped through the air and embedded itself in Jason’s shoulder, causing him to arch back and scream with pain. It was quickly followed by two more pencils, a roll of tape, and a metal stapler that beaned him in the side of the head with a loud, satisfying thwack .
    I looked past the Reaper. Oliver stood behind the checkout counter, his green eyes narrowed, already reaching for one of the computer keyboards. Spartans had the freaky ability to pick up any weapon—or any object—and automatically know how to kill someone with it. In Oliver’s hands, that keyboard could be as deadly as a battle-ax.
    But the Spartan wasn’t the only one on my side now.
    My fight with Jason had stunned the other students, but their surprise had quickly worn off. Chairs scraped back, shouts rose up, and the other kids started digging into their bags, drawing out the swords, staffs, and spears that were their weapons of choice. Oliver yanked the keyboard off the counter and headed toward the Reaper. Jason’s eyes flicked from one kid to another, and he realized he was going to be seriously outnumbered in another