❦𝓕𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓮❦ - 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓬𝔂 𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓸𝓷

𝒳𝒱𝐼𝐼. 𝒟𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝒯𝓇𝓊𝒸𝓀

𝒯𝒽𝑒 war god was waiting for them in the diner parking lot.

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

"My mom wouldn't be happy about that." Zoe snarked.

"You're still alive aren't you?" Ares raised an eyebrow at her.

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

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

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

Annabeth, Zoe, and Grover caught their breath. As much as Zoe would love to stick it to Ares, she would never do it to his face.

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 Zoe could read only because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

Percy said, "You're kidding."

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "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 Mega Stuffed Oreos.

"I don't want your lousy-" Percy started.

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving Percy a warning look.

"Thanks a lot."

Percy gritted his teeth and slung the backpack over his shoulder.

He 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 and he nodded, bringing up a little disposable camera to snap a picture of all five of them.

Fuck, we'll probably be in the newspaper tomorrow. Dad will know. Zoe pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes in frustration.

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares, his voice wavering a bit. "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?" Percy's face lifted into a hopeful expression.

"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."

"Kept. Why?"

"You need to study war, punk. Hostages. You take somebody to control somebody else."

"Nobody's controlling me."

He laughed. "Oh yeah? See you around, kid."

The son of Poseidon balled up his fists. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues."