Kiss of Frost Read Online Free PDF

eyes on me, tracking my every awkward movement and shallow breath. It only took a second for me to slide out to the other side of the gate, but it felt much longer than that. I didn’t look back at the statues. It was one thing to suspect there was something inside the stone watching me—it was another to see it for myself.
    Students weren’t supposed to leave the academy grounds during the week, since, you know, we were all supposed to be studying, training, and stuff. That’s probably why I felt like the sphinxes were glaring at me, but I didn’t care. Sneaking off campus was a pretty minor infraction compared to some of the other things that went on there.
    Besides, if I didn’t sneak out, I wouldn’t be able to see my Grandma Frost.
    I wasn’t crazy about the fact that I’d started attending Mythos Academy back at the beginning of the school year, but even I had to admit that Cypress Mountain was a pretty suburb. Upscale shops lay on the other side of the road that curved past the academy, selling everything from books and coffee to designer clothing and custom-made jewelry and weapons. There was even a car dealership full of Aston Martins and Cadillacs, and another lot where the Mythos kids parked their expensive rides, since students’ cars weren’t allowed on campus during the week. But the most popular stores with the academy kids were the ones that sold wine, liquor, cigarettes, and condoms—and that wouldn’t look too closely at your ID as long as you paid in cash, preferably hundreds.
    I caught one of the afternoon buses that shuttled tourists down from Cypress Mountain to the city and back up again. Twenty minutes later, I got off in a residential neighborhood full of old, spacious homes, just a few streets over from downtown Asheville. I walked to the opposite end of the block, then hurried up the gray, concrete steps of a three-story house painted a light shade of lavender. A sign beside the front door read P SYCHIC R EADINGS H ERE . The brass plate looked a little dull, so I polished it up a bit with the edge of my jacket sleeve before I used my key to let myself inside.
    “Back here, pumpkin.”
    I’d barely closed the front door behind me when my grandma’s voice drifted down the hallway. I couldn’t see her from where I was, but it sounded like she was in the kitchen. Grandma Frost was a Gypsy, just like me, which meant that she also had a gift, that she had magic. In Grandma’s case, she could see the future. In fact, that’s how she made extra cash—by giving psychic readings here in her house. People came from near and far to get Geraldine Frost to read their fortunes. But unlike some of the conmen out there, Grandma didn’t lie to anyone about what she saw. She always told people the truth, no matter how good, bad, or ugly it was.
    I walked down the hallway and stepped into the kitchen. With its white tile floors and sky blue walls, the kitchen was a bright, cheery space and my favorite room in the whole house.
    Grandma Frost stood in front of one of the counters, chopping up dried strawberries and dropping the ruby red pieces into a bowl of cookie dough. In addition to her psychic powers, Grandma also had some mad baking skills. I breathed in and could practically taste the dark chocolate, rich brown sugar, and bittersweet almond flavoring she’d already stirred into the batter. Yum.
    Grandma must have just finished telling her fortunes for the day because she was still dressed in what she called her “Gypsy gear”—a white silk blouse, black pants, black slippers with curled toes, and most important, lots and lots of colorful scarves. The gauzy layers of lilac, gray, and emerald fabric fluttered around her body, while the gleaming silver coins on the ends of the scarves jingled and jangled together in a merry way. She also had a scarf wrapped over her head, hiding her iron gray hair from sight. Grandma had taken off the stacks of rings she usually wore on her fingers. The silver