Chapter 52

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When I woke up, I was greeted by the sight of frizzy red hair and a quiet blond boy. I jerked up so quickly that my forehead slammed into someone's shield, and even though it really didn't hurt, instinctively I still said, "Ow," anyways.

After rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I looked down at the foot of the bed, frowning slightly at the sight of four other people, tossed over one another in one big heap as if the person on the bottom had been an unfortunate player in football while the rest dogpiled on top of them.

I blinked twice, finally recognizing the newcomers in the room. Needless to say, I almost blew a fuse right then and there.

Patrick winced. "Hey, Andy," he said meekly, giving a small wave before returning to stare down at his shoes, rocking back and forth as he waited for my reaction.

"Hello, Patrick," I said, sighing in resignation. I knew it was too good to be true to believe that my friends would actually heed my warning, especially since I knew they'd been paying extreme attention to the news whenever anything about New York was brought up. Man, now I'm wishing I'd sent them to Greece for the summer. "What are you doing here? Better yet, how did you get here? All the highways into Manhattan are closed and so are the airports."

Patrick blushed to the roots of his strawberry blond hair, rivaling the redness of Rachel's hair. "I brought him," Rachel said absentmindedly, brushing through her gnarled hair with her signature blue hair brush, like this was a normal conversation to be having. "I found them outside of Manhattan, got my pilot to let them in, and the six of us flew in together."

"And you didn't question why they were trying to get into a war zone?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rachel merely shrugged. "They said they knew you. That was good enough for me."

"Fair point." I swung my legs off the side of the bed and stood up to stretch, ignoring the audible pops that came from my back. "Do you still have your spear, 'Trick?" I asked, bending down to touch my toes, causing more of my spine to pop. Was it even possible to crack your entire spine?

"Yeah, I do," Patrick answered quickly, showing me the wrist watch as proof. "I haven't had to use this since our last training session in May."

"Good." Glancing down at my clothes, I realized how badly trashed they were, riddled with holes, blood, acid, burns, and God knows what else. Not to mention, I reeked. "Ew," I muttered, summoning my bag and pulling out a fresh set of clothes. "Listen, I'm going to take a lightning fast shower, but until then, I suggest you both go and talk with Chiron."

"Chiron?" Patrick asked, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy.

"You know, the centaur guy we met last night," Rachel said, lightly nudging Patrick in the ribs with her elbow.

"There were a lot of centaur guys we met last night."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "The one that's the most civilized."

"Oh, that one!" A look of triumph danced in Patrick's baby blue eyes from making the connection. "I've got to admit, he's pretty cool. But why do we need to talk to him again?"

"To find a safe place to wait out this war," I said, removing my hair tie, allowing for my knotted curls to fall down to my shoulders. "I don't know how much longer this place will be secure, but I know for a fact that if either one of you go within five blocks of the Empire State Building, you will both be killed immediately."

They both blanched.

"Understood," Patrick squeaked. "But what are we going to do with the others?" He pointed to Joe, Andy, Pete, and Leah, all of whom were snoring like their lives depended on it. Not to mention the fact that poor Pete was at the bottom of the dog pile, his face awkwardly pressed into the sheets, completely unaware of the fact that Joe's big toe was about three millimeters from entering his mouth.

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