Biohazard, Percy Jackson

001 ╱ ulterior motives

chapter one / volume one
ulterior motives

⭒

Slaying the Minotaur was no easy feat, particularly for a new kid with no training. And that, Andromeda knew, was exactly why no one believed it was true. Just a rumor, circulating around Camp while the new kid in question simmered in the clinic of the Big House. To fight the Minotaur like that, he'd have to be insanely strong. An Ares kid, maybe.

Theorizing would do her no good, really. But, at seven in the morning and bored out of her mind, there was nothing else to occupy her thoughts. Just—

The Minotaur, she thought. The Minotaur. It was a strangely powerful monster to be following some random kid into Camp. The last monster that strong that had tracked a demigod to Camp Half-Blood was Thalia Grace, a whole hoard of monsters at her back, including the Kindly Ones.

Her brother snored beside her. She wished he wouldn't stay up so late, leaving her, a naturally early riser, all alone in the mornings until breakfast started.

Looking around, her eyes land on Connor Stoll, who was sitting up in his bunk with a hand reached over to the bedroll beside him, digging around in the unlocked box beside the sleeping bag. She didn't recognize the victim of the robbery, still turned on their side in their sleep, but they must have been new. They should know not to leave their chests open in the Hermes Cabin. Especially not near a Hermes kid. Especially not near Connor or Travis Stoll.

Andromeda watched with a slightly amused, raised eyebrow as Connor snagged an object and pulled his hand back. A shiny gold bracelet hung from his fingertips. He glanced up and caught her eye, a smug smirk stretching across his mouth. She only tilted her head a bit before looking pointedly away.

Not her business. If that kid didn't want their belongings stolen, they shouldn't have delegated themselves to Thief Central (read: the area near the Stolls bunks).

As most of the other demigods in the cabin woke up, and stomachs grumbled, the horn for breakfast blew, and a shout rang out across the cabin:

"Eleven, fall in!"

Luke Castellan's voice was as authoritative and clear as ever. Demigods who had not yet awoken—her brother included—jolted up, some reaching for weapons that weren't there. Luke laughed as one of his sisters swiped at him as he walked by.

Beside her, Ethan groaned, rubbing his eyes with a tired hand. "Gods alive, Castellan, you're killing us."

The counselor grinned. "Gotta keep you on your toes, right?" Andromeda smiled gleefully at her brothers misery. Luke nudged him with his foot. "Up and at 'em, Nakamura."

"You enjoy torturing children?" Ethan demanded.

"You would classify yourself as a child, brat?"

Andromeda shrugged. "Isn't fourteen still a kid?"

Luke's smile strained near-imperceptibly, but she caught it, which meant Ethan also caught it. "For a half-blood? Fourteen is well into old age." He flicked her ear. "Come on, Andromeda. Everyone, up!"

Andromeda rubbed the offended ear as she stood. Ethan turned his bleary eyes onto her.

"Can you believe this guy?" he asked dramatically with a nod in Luke's direction, as he grabbed a pair of clothes and dashed off to the bathroom.