𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 | "you're the worst of my crimes. you fell hard, I thought 'good riddance.'"
In which June Grace no longer wants
to be the second choice.
OR
In whic...
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011: The Tunnel of Love [JUNE]
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JUNE KNEW SHE shouldn't have slept. She was getting tired of this game. She just wanted to be left alone.
"You hate being alone," the voice in the pit reminded. She refused to utter his name. Name's had power. She knew he didn't need his name to be said. It darkened any room so long as they mentioned one of his titles. "The last hero to have possessed powers such as yours went mad. Threw himself into the sea. I know you will not be as disappointing. You have done well granddaughter."
June dug her nails into her palms.
"Aren't you mad that I killed the Pleiades?"
The voice in the pit laughed. A chill ran down her spine. "You've done me a favor. The Pleiades are not loyal. I only wanted to see your power grow. What lengths would you go to save your friends? Would you pray to your father or would you pray to me? I listen, granddaughter. I keep my end of the bargain. I cannot say the same of my son."
Somehow she imagined he was smiling right now. "Wake up June. You will make me proud."
June woke up without a start. She was well aware that she was leaning on Connor's shoulder. She lifted her head to find him awake, simply staring at her with a quizzical look on his face. When he caught her looking, he glanced away, busying himself with the magazine in his lap.
It was now June 14th. Seven days until the summer solstice. The train finally arrived in Denver and they eagerly left it behind. They walked for a while, June wasn't sure where they were headed but she didn't ask any questions.
"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit."
Percy frowned. "We can't use phones, right?"
"I'm not talking about phones." Annabeth replied, though she didn't care to elaborate.
They wandered through downtown Denver for a half hour. There didn't seem to be any sources of water for the IM.
Finally they found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. They steered toward the stall furthest from the street, glancing behind them for any patrol cars. They were six teenagers at a car wash with no car. They were obviously up to no good.
"What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun.
""It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got a quarter left." He glanced at the group.
