Percy Jackson and the Olympians (Male Reader Insert)

I Gamble in Vegas

Character Information:
(Y/N): Your Name
(L/N): Last Name
(H/C): Hair Color
(E/C): Eye Color
(H/L): Hair Length
(S/C): Skin Color
(F/C): Favorite Color
(F/F): Favorite Food
(F/D): Favorite Drink

(Y/N)'s POV

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

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

I coughed. "I almost died."

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

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

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

Annabeth and Grover caught their breath. I wiped my bleeding lip.

Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air. 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—KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE 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 the job."

He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to me.

I caught and opened it. Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, about $20 in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuf Oreos.

Percy took a look inside the bag and turned to Ares. "I don't want your lousy—"

"Up-bup-bup," I said. "We're taking this. And I call dibs on the Oreos."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Annabeth glared at me.

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover said, looking nervously at Percy. He probably is afraid that he'll do something dumb. "Thanks a lot."

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" He kickstarted his motorcycle. "She's not dead."

"What do you mean?"

"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."

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

I flinched and Annabeth shot me a worried glance. We didn't want to see our friend get run over by a god's motorcycle.

Behind Ares's sunglasses, fire glowed. "We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back."

He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancey Street.

"Oh, boy. I hope that doesn't mean he's swearing vengeance against us," I sighed.