the archer - percy jackson x reader

xii.

chapter twelve
we're all here, the lights and noise are blinding

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"Well to start, I'm terrified of small spaces, especially those who curve and have an old lady with a chimera in them"

🝮

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

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

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

Ares gave them a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You two looked good on TV." He said, motioning between Percy and Y/n, "Cute couple."

Y/n rolled her eyes in disgust but kept her mouth shut out of fear she would end up heavily insulting the god.

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

Grover and Annabeth stiffened beside Y/n.

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 the demigods 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.

They stopped dead in their tracks. A zoo transport? How bad would that smell. Y/n and Annabeth's face twisted in slight disgust while Grover looked thrilled. Percy voiced his complaints as per usual.

"You're kidding," He said.

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 Double Stuf Oreos.

Percy said, "I don't want your lousy—"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving Percy his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot."

Y/n and Annabeth nodded along with Grover's "gratitude."

Reluctantly, Percy slung the backpack over his shoulder. He knew his anger was being caused by the war god's presence, but he was still itching to punch him in the nose.

Y/n held onto Annabeth's hand as she nervously watched the waitress who had served them earlier drag the fry-cook out of the kitchen. She said something to him and he nodded, holding up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of them.

Great, they would be on the news again.

Percy moved on from the interaction and spoke to the god of war once again, "You owe me one more thing," he told Ares, trying to keep his voice level. "You promised me information about my mother."

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

Y/n's head shot up and she payed close attention to Percy's body language. He looked as if the world had begun to spin under his feet.