Burning Passion: A Leo Valdez Love Story

Chapter 21

"You're that lady," Leo said. "The one who was named after Caribbean music."

Her eyes glinted murderously. "Caribbean music."

"Yeah. Reggae?" Leo shook his head. "Merengue? Hold on, I'll get it." He snapped his fingers. "Calypso!"

{LOUISE}

The underworld was one happening place.

I'd been here for a short while, maybe two days (since the sun didn't shine here, it was hard to tell), and I'd been to at least five parties. Mostly beach barbecues or just beach parties, which were nice. There was actually a clothing store on one street with the rest of the shops, but you didn't need money to buy the stuff; it just reappeared five minutes later. They had great bikinis, let me tell you.

This really was paradise. And the food was wonderful. It wasn't really like I could taste the stuff, but I had a sensation of how it should taste in my mouth, which was just as good. I'd mostly just drank cocktails and smoothies and stuff like that, but they were all great.

I'd talked to a few of the dead, and they claimed that no one aged here, no one changed. I'd be stuck as a sixteen year old for my whole life... I mean, death. That had its perks, but I hadn't realized how much I looked forward to getting older and having, well, a life. At least Naia and Leo would hopefully have that chance. And my brother, if they ever found him. I still worried about him.

I was about to go to another party, so I pulled on some nicer clothes than my pyjamas and exited out of my ultra-modern large-windowed townhouse (where I lived on my own, which was kind of lonely, unsurprisingly) and down the street. The party (at someone's house) was talking place in the Victorian district, and so I headed to the bus stop, since I'd have to walk through several districts (it was a long time since the Victorian era, after all) if I didn't take the bus.

The bus, which I should probably explain, took the shape of whatever form of transportation that one was used to from the time of history they'd died in, so while it looked like a regular bus to me, to the ancient Romans it looked like a carruca, a type of carriage drawn by mules or donkeys or horses. And for those who didn't have transportation, like the cavemen... it looked like a wooly mammoth.

I ran into someone on the way to the stop.
"Sorry," we both said. Then I looked up, and my mouth dropped open. The boy was good-looking, with thick fair hair and green eyes, and features similar to mine. "Louis?!" I gasped. It couldn't be him...

"Lou?!" he demanded.

And we both nodded, and grinned. We hugged each other tightly, laughing.

Then, "You're dead?" I asked a moment later, in realization. My face fell.

"Yeah. I guess you are too." He looked both happy and sad, which was how I felt as well.

"How did you die?" I asked him.

"The goddess Hekate killed me," he said grimly. "She told me how she was going to take over Camp Half-Blood and how I was never going to see her reign. She claimed she would keep the gods in their schizophrenic state forever, and..." he trailed off. "I dunno. What about you?"

"An angry cyclops threw me into a wall, and even Apollo couldn't save me," I said, scowling. "I've left my friends behind... I really hope they're okay..." Then I thought for a moment. "Was it Hekate who poisoned the camp?"

"Yeah." Louis nodded, running a hand through his hair. A car passed us on the cobbled street - we were in the Victorian-style neighbourhood - and I moved onto the side. "And what's more," he added, "is Naia helped her do it."