✔ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄 ⋆ percy jackson

xi. only twenty minutes to sleep

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

Cassie never really liked the gods, not entirely, they were all monsters with golden masks, to hide their true nature.

Some gods were better, like Demeter or Hestia, even Mr.D (who was a softie deep down).

The war god didn't fall in the nicer gods category.

Ares waiting for them in the diner parking lot.

"Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."

"You knew it was a trap," Percy said.

Ares gave him a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled black-smith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

Cassie scoffed.

Percy shoved his shield at him. "You're a jerk."

Annabeth and Grover caught their breath.

Cassie scoffed again and crossed her arms.

Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back.

"See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner.

"That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which Cassie could read only because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTER-NATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

Cassie said, "You're joking."

He laughed, "no, sweetheart."

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched and turned to Percy. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."

He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy.

Inside were fresh clothes for all of them, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuff Oreos.

Percy said, "I don't want your lousy-"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving Percy his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot."

Reluctantly, Percy slung the backpack over his shoulder.

Cassie looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served them dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt them.

She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of the four.

Cassie blew them a kiss.

Great, she thought. They'll make the papers again tomorrow, but at least she would look nice.

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep his voice level. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "She's not dead."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept."