Burning Passion: A Leo Valdez Love Story

Chapter 14

"Lady, nobody messes with my dragon and gets away with it."

{NAIA}

I looked up at the monster, wishing the damn thing would just disappear and make my life easier. But no. Of course not.

I glanced down at Leo and Lou, who were stabbing the giant's feet; Lou with her sword, and Leo with a wrench.

Yeah, that'll work, I thought sarcastically. Wasn't Leo supposed to be the one who was experienced, not Lou and I?

Then, Cyclopesie kicked them out of the way, and they rolled across the stone ground several times. They were probably unconscious by now, I thought. They weren't moving much, anyway.

I glared up at the Cyclopes, who was looking at them like they were annoying bugs who'd been trying to bite them, or something. He still held me in his hand, but he didn't seem to notice me. I felt really claustrophobic; he was holding me way to tightly.

"Hey!" I yelled, gasping for breath as his grip loosened and I tried to struggle free, even stabbing my knives into him. But no such luck.

He turned his single eye toward me, dirty blond monobrow furrowed. "Oh, you. The little gingerbread man!"

"I am most certainly not a little man!" I screeched at him. Height was a sore spot for me; I was only five feet and two and a half inches tall, and everyone in my old high school was taller than me, pretty much. "I'm a girl! Gods! And I'm not that short! It's you who's the freakish giant!" Then I processed the rest of what he said. "Oh, and I'm not made of gingerbread. So piss off. Find something better to do. You can if you apply yourself!"

He looked at me. "You're not gingerbread?"

"Nooooo!" I said indignantly. "Just skin. And bones. No juicy fat on me! Go pick on Smithers or a Victoria's Secret model." Hmm, that sounded mildly disturbing. And not the Smithers part. Ah, well. "Or better yet, your wife."

"My wife?" he said, confused. "Why?"

"Well, if you have one. Do you?" I asked.

"No," he whimpered. "I'm only twenty-five!"

"Do you have a mom or dad then?" I asked. "Some sort of nasty relative who you don't like? Something? Anything?"

He looked thoughtful, then snapped his fingers in front of my face, nearly deafening me. "My momma IS horrible. She's an old battle-axe."

"Well then, go pick on her," I suggested. "I bet she's making you dinner right now! Demigod Á La Marseillaise! But not me, or my friends," I added hastily. "Some horrid old demigod like Drew or Clarisse."

Odd that most of the unlikeable people at camp were female... hmm...

Cyclopesie thought about what I'd said for a moment. Then he looked back at me. "No! She's not making me dinner! She told me to go hunt for dinner MYSELF!! She's so mean! Guys my age shouldn't have to fend for themselves!"

"She is!" I gasped in fake horror, yet he seemed to buy it. "I don't believe it! You shouldn't obey her. She doesn't deserve it at all. You're just a poor kid, in the way of your mom's midlife crisis. You gotta lash out and gain your people's respect!"

A look of confusion appeared on his ugly mug. "Oh..."

Then realization dawned on him. "Oh!"

I nodded, smiling. "Exactly. Why don't you let us go, just to annoy her?"

"Why not..." he agreed. He started to set me down gently.