¹POCKET FULL OF POSIES. p. jackson

x. All-In-One Hotel

chapter ten
❛ all-in-one hotel ❜

━━━━━  THE WAR GOD was waiting for the four in the diner parking lot. His eyebrows raised into his hairline as he saw them trample forward. "Well, well ..." he greeted. "You didn't get yourself killed. Great news!"

              Percy stomped up towards the god, his face set into hard lines. "You knew it was a trap."

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

              Percy unstrapped the shield on his arm and shoved it into Ares's chest. "You're an asshole," he decided, scowling up at the god.

              Josephine, Annabeth, and Grover caught their breath. Cursing the gods' names — that was one thing. Cursing the gods' names in front of the very god you're cursing ... Well, that was just plain stupid.

              However, Ares only took the shield and spun it in the air like an extra hard pizza dough. In the air, it changed forms — glowing brightly as the metal warped into the shape of a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back, shifting the weight of his feet. "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 Josephine 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.

              Her jaw dropped, "You've got to be kidding? Uh — Lord Ares."

              The War God snapped his fingers, and the door of the truck was unlatched. "Free ride west, Posie." He peered at her a bit closer, as if finally taking the time to examine his audience. "You know, you're a lot like your father, kid. TV suits you."

              That's the last thing you want, isn't it? that cruel voice spoke up, its tone surprisingly soft. To be compared to Apollo. But Ares isn't wrong. You and Apollo are alike in many ways.

              The god rubbed the top of her head, jostling her head back and forth. Josephine scowled, smoothing down her head when the god unlatched his fingers from her skull. "But — Lord Ares — those are live animals!" she protested loudly.

              "Stop complaining," Ares snapped, rolling his molten-colored eyes. "Anyways, here's a little something for doing the job."

              The God of War slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy. Inside the bag were fresh clothes for everyone, twenty dollars, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a pack of Double Stuff Oreos.

              Percy was scowling. "I don't want your fuck —"

              "Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, sending the son of Poseidon his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks — like — a lot."

              Josephine grabbed Percy's upper arm, giving him a cautious look. He reluctantly slung the backpack over his shoulder. The daughter of Apollo glanced back at the diner, which only had a couple of customers now with the evening having come around. The waitress who had served the questers was watching them nervously out the window, as if afraid Ares might hurt the four. The lady dragged the cook from the kitchen to see. She said something, and he nodded to her, holding up a disposable camera and snapping a picture of them.