Leo P.O.V
Frank took over driving for me on the way back from Montreal, so I could sleep. I only reluctantly let him drive Festus, since I was the only one I trusted to handle him. Frank was a good man, though our relationship had a rocky start. He thought that I was trying to move in on his girl, Hazel. Hazel is a special girl but there are boundaries a guy just doesn't cross.
We arrived in the outskirts of Montreal around midnight. Our stop was Vent du Nord, the house of Boreas, our Canadian contact.
Vent du Nord is a grayish white stone castle-like mansion with turrets and a roof shingled in grayish blue tiles. That night, it was all lit up since Boreas was throwing a party.
We found his two sons, Calais and Zethes, among the guests inside. Calais, a big, stupid ox of a guy, was guzzling from a keg of beer. Both he and his brother Zethes had icy white-blond hair and dark eyes. Zethes was a greasy little guy with slick-backed hair and a bad case of acne. He was chatting up a girl who couldn't have been less interested. As a certified lady magnet, I know when a guy has it, which Zethes certainly did not. I almost felt sorry for him. We can't all have the good looks and charm of Leo Valdez.
I elbowed my way through the guests, saying "hot stuff coming through," and walked over to a table with glasses of champagne. Taking a sip from my glass, I thought about how great it was to be able to have a drink without being afraid of getting arrested.
The girl that Zethes was trying to chat up managed to get away from him.
"Strike out again, Zethes?" I asked.
"Valdez," Zethes snarled.
"The one and only."
Calais and Zethes's sister, Khione, walked down the stairs and shot me a frosty look. Khione was by far the best looking member of the family. She had skin as pale and as clear as ice, glossy hair so black that it looked blue and velvety, coffee brown eyes one could get lost in. That night, she wore an ice blue dress embroidered in silver and a headband of rhinestones arranged in what looked like snowflakes.
Khione's pretty little nose pinched upwards like she had just smelt something terrible.
"Leo Valdez, quel plaisir," she said contemptuously. Oh gods, that Québécois accent of hers could drive a man crazy. "I trust the others are with you."
"The rest of the guys are right behind me."
Percy, Jason, and Frank had all gone to help themselves to refreshments. Jason and Frank were sipping a Dubonnet and a Clover Club respectively.
Percy was stuffing himself with clams casino. He shot Frank a "what, I'm hungry" look after Frank rolled his eyes and Percy's bad manners.
Khione stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked over Jason like she wanted to eat him.
"So, Ice Princess," I said to her, "Where's your old man?"
"He's out in the barn," she replied, a bit snappishly.
The barn at Vent du Nord is an alcoholic's cave of wonders. It was filled with crates of moonshine, whiskey, beer, as well as imported wines and spirits. We loaded up Festus's trunk with as many crates as could fit and covered them up with a wool blanket. In case a cop or customs officer checked under the blanket, the crates were marked "eggs."
I had begun to nod off when Frank nudged me awake.
"We're at the border," he whispered.
The border between the United States and Canada is dotted with customs booths and patrolled by law enforcement. Our best bet was to sneak through quickly without being noticed.
"Turn off the headlights and floor-it," I told him.
I snapped my fingers in front of Percy and Jason who were dozing in the backseat.
"Hold on, it's going to get rough."
Frank drove like a bat out of Hell and we disappeared into some back roads once we had crossed over in the US. Percy held onto the back of my seat for dear life. Jason looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
On second thought, it's probably not the best idea to drive quickly and recklessly through narrow, winding, dirt roads in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly, there was a loud crash and we were stopped in our tracks.
"Dammit, Frank," I shouted, "Did Buster Keaton teach you to drive?"
Percy got out of the car to see what the damage was. He lit a match to help himself look around.
"We hit a tree," he said, "I think the fender is busted."
"Great! Now, what are we going to do?"
"I saw a farmhouse a little while ago," Jason suggested, "We could go there and ask for help."
I didn't feel like walking god knows how long through the woods this late at night but it was our only real option. The night was warm and muggy and mosquitoes feasted on my sweet flesh.
The farmhouse that Jason had pointed out was made of bleached and whitewashed wood and was little bigger than a shack.
It was illuminated by a lantern at the front door. A huge black mastiff was chained to the porch. The dog tugged at its chain and barked and growled at us as we came closer.
"Easy there, girl," Percy whispered to the dog.
A man holding a shotgun kicked open the front door and stepped into the light coming front the lantern.
"Who's there?" he shouted.
"We're sorry for trespassing, sir," Percy responded, "Our car broke down a few miles away."
The man put down his shotgun. In the light of the lantern, I could see that he was skinny and gangly and not too sure of himself when it came to handling his weapon. He was young, perhaps in his late twenties, and had a mop of curly brown hair and a scruffy beard, like he hadn't shaved in a few days.
Percy extended his hand to the man.
"Percy Jackson."
"Grover Underwood," The man responded, shaking Percy's hand "What can I do for you folks?"
"How far are we from the nearest town?" I asked.
"The nearest town is Delphi, about five miles away. Its too far to walk, especially this late at night. Why don't you folks stay the night here? I'll drive you into Delphi in the morning and we could send a tow truck out to get your car."
"That would be wonderful," said Jason
"Come in, come in," Grover gestured for us to come into his house. He began to light some oil lamps in the kitchen so we could see where we were going. A whitewashed table and chairs stood in the middle of the kitchen.
The curtains in the windows had been made from calico feed sacks and rag rugs were spread out on the floor.
An old coal cookstove sat in the corner of the room.
A girl came down the stairs. She was a few years younger than Grover and pretty in an elfish sort of way and had red hair.
"This is my wife, Juniper," Grover introduced her.
"We're sorry to bother you, Mrs. Underwood," Percy said.
"It's nothing," Juniper replied, "We're always happy to have guests."
She opened up a small closet and began to pull out four pillows and four sheets.
"We don't have any room in the house for you boys, so you'll have to sleep out in the barn. Grover'll show you where it is."
The barn was about the same size as the house and made of the same bleached wood. Inside was an old pick up truck, some farming equipment, stalls for goats, and a hayloft which was where we slept.
I passed a rather uncomfortable night. The barn, of course, smelt like a barn and the hay poked through the threadbare sheet I spread on top of it and kept sticking me in the back. On top of that, there was Frank snoring like a steam train.
Percy P.O.V
I had been in a terrible mood since leaving Vent du Nord. As if being around Calais and Zethes were not bad enough, Calais wreaked off all the beer he had been drinking and Zethes was puffing cigar smoke in our faces. Beer and cigars were perhaps my least favorite smells because they always brought back terrible memories.
"What did you say, you little shit?" Gabe shouted at me, blowing smoke from his cigar in my face. He had a voice like a walrus dying in childbirth and face to match.
"I've been out," I replied.
Gabe noticed that I had some money in my pocket. He could sniff out money like a fat, ugly old hound.
"Where did you get this?" About a dollar's worth of pennies was in his corpulent, greasy palm.
"I earned it."
Some afternoons, I sold newspapers to help my family make ends meet, since too much of our money funded Gabe's gambling habit.
"Don't lie to me! Did you steal it?"
"No!"
Gabe took the beer bottle he was holding and smashed it against my head. Shards of glass cut my cheek.
"I didn't steal it. I earned it selling newspapers."
"What did I tell you about lying to me?"
He took off his belt and ordered me to lift up my shirt. My back was lashed until it was covered in cuts and bruises. When he was done, I got some water and vinegar to clean my wounds with. The cuts were shallow and would heal pretty quickly but the bruises would hurt for days. After cleaning the cuts with water, I soaked a rag in vinegar and dabbed it on my bruises.
I then snuck off my room to be alone. There was no way in Tartarus that I was going to give Gabe the satisfaction of seeing me cry. As long as he took out his viciousness on me, he would leave my Ma alone, I kept telling myself.
I wanted to knock the sticking cigar out of Zethes's mouth and wring Calais's beer-guzzling neck like I had always wanted to do to Gabe but what good would it of done?
Hazel P.O.V
I was awoken by a knocking at the front door our apartment. I quickly got out of bed to answer it before the knocking disturbed Momma. She was a light sleeper and got mighty angry when she was disturbed, especially when she had been hitting the whiskey bottle like she had the night before.
A tall, thin man with a pale, grave face, dark hair and dark eyes. He wore an expensive suit made from black, pinstriped silk and a dark grey felt hat.
"Daddy?" I whispered.
"Hazel, mia cara," he responded.
"Let's talk in the hallway. I don't want to wake Momma up."
I usually didn't walk out the front door in only my nightie but it was dark and everyone else in the building was asleep.
"How is your mother doing?"
"She wouldn't be happy you're here."
When my mother started her relationship with my father, she thought he would be her ticket out of the hard life you had always known. She would be the wife of a rich and powerful man and have everything she ever wanted. Then she found out that he was already married and it was the biggest disappointment of her life. Her last chance at a better life was gone and whenever my father came to visit it was a reminder of this.
"And that boy you've been seeing...Frank, does she like him?"
"Fortunately for Frank, she likes him"
Mostly she liked him because she hoped I would marry him and get out of her hair. This was the outcome I was hoping for as well. Frank was sweet and caring and everything a girl could want. He was more than I deserved.
Daddy took my hand in his.
"Hazel, I've been thinking," he said, "Why don't you move in with Persephone and me? At least until you and Frank decide to get married."
I told him that I had to say no. As much as she might treat me like a burden, Momma still needed me to take care of her. I was the one who remembered to pay the rent, buy food, and stuff like that she was drunk and wallowing in self-pity. She needed me more than I needed her.
Nico P.O.V
This only downside to sleeping with Will Solace is that the boy wakes up at the asscrack of dawn. When I woke up, he was already out of bed. Loud noises coming from the kitchen told me that he was cooking breakfast.
"Good morning, Ghost Boy," he said, smiling over his frying pan where he was cooking some eggs with tomatoes and cheese, my favorite breakfast food.
"Good morning," I leaned over and kissed him, "Smells delicious."
We sat down at the table with the eggs he had made, some toasted garlic bread, and a bottle of champagne.
"Champagne?" Will asked, "What's the occasion?"
"We're together," I answered.
"How's Hazel?"
"She's good. I took her out dancing last night before I went to see you. Her boyfriend is out of town and she needed an escort."
"And your old man?"
"Devil knows what he is up to."
When my father found out about Will, he hadn't seemed to care. He jokingly said that all Di Angelos were going to Hell one way or another.