"The Olympians have been called many things, but forgiving is not one of them."
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[adventure, dark comedy, romance - book 1]
Loyalty. What did it mean?
As the Second Titan War raged across the United States, Half-Bloods began to pick sides...
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KITTY HAD NEVER GOTTEN TO PLAY Russian Roulette. Even Mr. D wasn't crazy enough to hand a seventeen year old a loaded gun. But that was fine. Her life was one whole game of Russian Roulette.
Any demigod could learn to swing a sword or shoot an arrow or throw a spear. The Apollo kids had some creative songs and poems, but lyre strings could be cut. Hephaestus's kids could build cool contraptions. Great. Except it didn't help that much in the middle of a heated battle. And looking down, flat on her stomach, from the walking path above the road on the Brooklyn Bridge, they certainly were in a heated battle.
Two hellhounds howled just before Travis Stoll sent them evaporating back to the Underworld. His dark hair plastered against his reddened cheeks as sweat poured down his brow. They'd made it to midnight. Fortunately, no one had more than a twisted ankle.
Kitty smirked. In her right palm she ran her thumb over the celestial bronze coin her mother had given her years ago. On one side, a cornucopia. On the other, a blindfolded skull. Russian Roulette.
She grabbed the coin. It began heating up against her skin. The world went grey around her, as if the Mist was becoming visible. In the haze, color radiated out from dead and undead alike.
Travis shined a brilliant gold. It didn't surprise her. That boy had always been luckier than most. The only way to explain the Stoll brothers' ability to pull pranks and rob every building in Camp Half-Blood despite their inability to sneak was an uncanny amount of good luck.
Most of the children of Hermes had that gift. Her mother was Hermes' child, after all. Tyche embodied and strengthened that piece of her father's nature. Maybe that was why they called her a minor god.
Minor god. Kitty's grip on the coin tightened. Even though Alex's return to Camp Half-Blood proved she'd made the right decision not to join Kronos's army, she didn't wonder if the true right decision would've been to leave Camp Half-Blood and not come back.
Travis's golden aura flickered. Kitty forced herself to focus. One of the cyclops down the bridge had a javelin in hand. Where once had been grey mist, it seemed to leach the gold from Travis. Kitty grimaced.
Pain like needle stabs filled her mind as she reached out to cut the connection. She willed it to reverse. Warmth filled her chest as a thread of golden light visible only to her formed between herself and the cyclops.
He threw the javelin. Travis's aura returned to its natural golden state. He turned in time to see it coming, side stepping it. With a crash, the javelin embedded itself in a yellow taxi beyond him. He gave a tiny laugh, wiping his brow.
Minor god. If only they knew. If only they understood that she gambled with the Fates themselves.
Her headache increased the more she played with the strings of luck on the battlefield. She didn't care about the gods. But she did care about Travis, as much of an idiot as he was. She cared about Dennis, the unclaimed fifteen year old who had just joined that summer. And Lauren, an unclaimed Cabin 11 member of four years, since she'd arrived alongside a couple Half-Bloods of Athena's house.