Maisie Kline didn't want to be a half-blood...but she is.
So you might as well read her story.
percy jackson x femoc 🩵
tlt: ✅
tsom: ✅
ttc: ✅
tbol:in progress
tlo:...
-cover art from @samdoesart on instagram
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The war god was waiting for them in the diner parking lot.
"Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."
"You knew it was a trap," Percy said.
Ares gave a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled black-smith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."
Percy shoved his shield at him. "You're a jerk."
Annabeth and Grover caught their breath.
Maisie just crossed her arms.
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 read: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD 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 doing the job."
He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy. Inside were fresh clothes, 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 his friend his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot."
Ares went to turn around.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Maisie said, ignoring Annabeth who slapped her arm, warning her to shut up.
"Am I?" Ares said, smirking.
"You promised me information about my mother," Percy said, trying to keep his voice leveled.
"You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "She's not dead. 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."
Behind his 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 Delancy Street.
