🌷 "We're Greek, Percy. We're all born with tragedy in our blood."
The only thing Daphne could ever be sure of was that she was not meant to be alive. Whatever you wanted to call it - a gut feeling or just some serious anxiety, she couldn't shake th...
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chapter IX
🌷 Daphne fell asleep the moment the cab started purring, which was an incredible feat considering how fast the driver was going.
It was Annabeth's idea, of course. She loaded them into the back of a Vegas taxi as if they actually had money, and told (commanded) the driver, "Los Angeles, please."
The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized them up. Considering there was four of them, Daphne and Annabeth had to squeeze into one seat. For some reason that Daphne wasn't sure was legal, the driver didn't question it. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front."
"You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked.
He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first."
Annabeth handed him her green LotusCash card.
He looked at it skeptically.
"Swipe it," Annabeth invited.
He did.
His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally, an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.
Daphne gaped. Goddamnit, she wished that she'd kept her card now.
The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at them, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?"
"The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter. It was obvious to tell that she liked the Your Highness thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."
Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert, and Daphne still slept through it.
"How is she doing it?" Percy marvelled. Her body was twisted uncomfortably so that both she and Annabeth could share the seat. Half of her lap was on hers, and her neck was twisted as she hung onto Annabeth's shoulders.
"Don't know." Annabeth shrugged. "But she's slept on garbage bins before, so who knows?"
At sunset, the taxi dropped them at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier which made Daphne deathly jealous, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave. In another universe, Daphne could picture them all on the sand.
