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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. He glanced at Marlowe, who was staring at the ground with a frown on her face.
Ares noticed and gave Percy a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith 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. Marlowe didn't even look up.
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 Percy 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.
He 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 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."
Percy gritted his teeth, his eyes somehow finding themselves on Marlowe. He had to admit that it hurt him to see her like that, but at the same time, she was hiding something from him. And something big, apparently, because the gods thought that it was worthy of their time.
Reluctantly, Percy slung the backpack over his shoulder. He looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served them dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt them. She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of them.
"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep his voice level. "You promised me information about my mother."
"You mean Sunshine over here didn't tell you?" Ares raised a brow, kick-starting his motorcycle. Marlowe's eyes narrowed on him. "Huh, I thought she would have burst by now."
"I didn't find it necessary if you were going to tell him anyways," she practically growled, forcing herself to not charge a god unarmed.
Ares's lips formed into something like a smirk. "You sure you can handle the news?" Percy's face hardened. "She's not dead."
