I threw my messenger bag onto the table, then went over and stared down at the sword. The weapon looked the same as it had last night. Silver metal, long blade with faint writing on it, a man’s face carved into the hilt. I waited a minute, but the eye on the hilt didn’t suddenly pop open and stare at me again. Good. Maybe I wasn’t going crazy after all. I sat down at the table, dragged a notebook out of my bag, and got to work, writing down everything that I knew about Jasmine Ashton. The more I knew about her, the easier it would be to figure out why she’d been in the library last night—and who might have killed her. I didn’t know much. Jasmine was pretty, popular, and a total mean girl. A Valkyrie who loved designer clothes and whose family had deep, deep pockets. And . . . and . . . and that was it. That was all that I knew about her. That was the complete sum total of her existence to me. I didn’t even know what her other power was, besides her inherent Valkyrie strength.
