𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 || leo valdez

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈: double date with icicles?

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

        IT SEEMED LIKE LEO slept for only seconds, but when Veronica shook him awake, the daylight was fading.

"Hey. We're here," she said.

Looking down, she studied the landscape below. A city sat on a cliff overlooking a river. The plains around it were dusted with snow, but the city itself glowed warmly in the winter sunset.

Buildings crowded together inside high walls like a medieval town, way older than any place Veronica had seen before. In the center was an actual castle—at least Veronica assumed it was a castle—with massive red brick walls and a square tower with a peaked, green gabled roof.

"Tell me that's Quebec and not Santa's workshop," Leo said.

"Yeah, Quebec City," Piper confirmed. "One of the oldest cities in North America. Founded around sixteen hundred or so?"

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Your dad do a movie about that too?"

She made a face at him, "I read sometimes, okay? Just because Aphrodite claimed me, doesn't mean I have to be an airhead." Veronica frowned—who did this girl think she was, categorizing every Aphrodite child?

"Feisty!" Leo said. "So you know so much, what's that castle?"

"A hotel, I think."

Leo laughed. "No way."

But as they got closer, Veronica saw she was right. The grand entrance was bustling with doormen, valets, and porters taking bags. Sleek black luxury cars idled in the drive. People in elegant suits and winter cloaks hurried to get out of the cold.

"The North Wind is staying in a hotel?" Leo said. "That can't be—"

"Heads up, guys," Jason interrupted. "We got company!"

Veronica looked below and saw what he meant. Rising from the top of the tower were two winged figures—angry angels, with nasty-looking swords. Festus didn't like the angel guys. He swooped to a halt in midair, wings beating and talons bared, and made a rumbling sound in his throat that Veronica recognized. He was getting ready to blow fire.

"Steady, boy," Veronica muttered. Something told her the angels would not take kindly to getting torched.

"I don't like this," Jason said. "They look like storm spirits."

At first Veronica thought he was right, but as the angels got closer, she could see they were much more solid than venti. They looked like regular teenagers except for their icy white hair and feathery purple wings. Their bronze swords were jagged, like icicles. Their faces looked similar enough that they might've been brothers, but they definitely weren't twins.

One was the size of an ox, with a bright red hockey jersey, baggy sweatpants, and black leather cleats. The guy clearly had been in too many fights, because both his eyes were black, and when he bared his teeth, several of them were missing.

The other guy looked like he'd just stepped off one of Veronica's mom's 1980s rock album covers—Journey, maybe, or Hall & Oates, or something even lamer. His ice-white hair was long and feathered into a mullet. He wore pointy-toed leather shoes, designer pants that were way too tight, and a god- awful silk shirt with the top three buttons open. Maybe he thought he looked like a groovy love god, but the guy couldn't have weighed more than ninety pounds, and he had a bad case of acne.

"I'm going to jump off this dragon." Veronicas eyes widened and she shook her head with a groan.

"What? Who are they?" Piper asked.