The Hidden Son (Percy Jackson / Marvel's Agents of SHIELD Crossover)

2. We Promise We're Not Alien Murderers

          HISSING DEMONICALLY, THE snake-women leapt into the air. The shorter one crashed into Annabeth, but she shifted her weight at just the right moment, sending the thing tumbling over her shoulder.

          The boy tore his focus away from the woman for a moment to make a face at Coulson. "Dude! Get out of here," he said, his voice strained.

          "What are you guys, some sort of alien hunters?" Coulson supposed that a real gun wouldn't work on . . . whatever these things were, but . . .

          "Alien hunters?" grunted the blonde, ducking a swipe from her attacker. She whipped around and smashed the woman in the nose with the hilt of her sword, sending her sprawling. "Where did you get that crazy idea?"

          The snake-lady crash landed right at Coulson's feet. He gave her what he imagined to be a well deserved kick in the stomach, and the momentum of it rolled her to the opposite side of the alley, where she hit the wall with an almost-sickening crunch.

          The boy seemed to have a similar idea, as the thing on him was too close for him to get in with his sword, and she too went sailing through the air, landing in the Dumpster on the opposite side of the narrow alleyway.

          Of course, kicking didn't do all that much, and the things started to get back up again. Coulson wondered for a fleeting moment why the teens were reluctant to use their weapons. He was, too, but these women weren't going down easy. Suddenly, he remembered what he was carrying in his left inside pocket, and just in time at that, because the snake ladies were nearly on their . . . snakes again. He unbuttoned it hastily and removed the specialized weapon from its place.

          The boy, set and ready to defend again, eyed him warily. "That's not going to work—"

          He was interrupted by four loud shots, not quite the kind you would hear from an average pistol. The teenagers watched with pleasant surprise as the two creatures dropped to the ground and lay there. They whirled around to face the Director, who wiped the I.C.E.R. on the side of his pant leg and casually returned it to the inside of his jacket.

          "What the—? How did you—?" The guy seemed incapable of finishing a question.

          "We'll get back to that," the girl promised, her eyes searching Coulson calculatingly. "For now, we don't know how long this will last." Her gaze shifted to meet her boyfriend's, and they seemed to come to a silent agreement that Coulson couldn't decipher. The two walked over to the unmoving alien things and raised their blades.

          "Hold on, wait just—"

          Too late.

          Coulson watched in horror as the two sort-of-innocent teenagers he'd just met casually decapitated their unconscious enemies.

          Except that wasn't quite how it turned out. As soon as blade met flesh, the bodies exploded into golden dust, showering the three of them with it. Coulson tried not to dwell on it. Here was another thing he didn't understand, but the one thing he did get was that the teens had just killed two unresponsive and defenseless . . . things.

          The couple nodded at each other solemnly and turned back around only to find a pistol aimed at each of their chests.

          "Woah, there," the boy said, somewhat confusedly. "I don't—"

          "Get that thing out of my face, now," the blonde demanded, almost unfazed.

          Coulson ignored them both. "I'm going to ask you this, again." His voice bounced around the alley, cold and hard, like steel. "What are you? Kree? Asgardian?"