Demons And Angels

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The basement was cold, dark, the cement walls eerie in the dim light filtering in through the filthy windows.

Blonde hair glinted as the man stood in the middle of the room. His mouth was pulled down into a frown that twisted his scar into a horrible shape. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around.

At the chair just sitting in the center of the strange basement.

Different boxes were stacked against the walls, the dust on the floor disturbed as if they had been roughly shoved out of the way.

He had been told to come down here. Thalia had told him Annabeth wanted to 'talk' with him.

Maybe it would give him the chance to finish what he had started in California. A grin crept along his face at the thought, somehow even more gruesome than the frown.

He was about to call out, speak Annabeth's name, when a crushing pain spiked down his neck. Black swept in, clearing his mind of anything.

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Dark.

Nothingness.

He pulled his eyes open, forcing them to respond even if it tore a line of fire down the back of his head.

When his vision cleared enough to look around, to move his fingers, he found himself in quite the predicament.

Tied down to the chair he had seen earlier, and done well too-no way he could escape without his steele. Speaking of which-he didn't feel the weight of the pen in his pocket.

"Looking for this?" A voice, cold and unyielding, spoke from the darkness of the room. The only light was from a witchlight on the floor, just out of the reach of his foot.

A boot stepped out.

And the Shadowhunter from earlier walked into the ring of light. His black hair shining and green eyes completely lifeless. In his fingers he held the tied up man's steele.

The blonde man sneered, rolling his blue eyes.

The black haired man chuckled, low and viscous. "You don't seem to get it, do you?" The blonde man met the other's stare. Pure hatred. That's what was swirling around in his sea colored eyes. "You made a huge mistake by coming here."

"What do you mean?" The first words he had spoken to the male in front of him.

The black haired man circled him, like a shark circling some prey. "She gave you a chance. She left her home state to give you a chance. A chance to change, and what do you do? Waste it by coming here with that fucking sneer and ugly ass scar." He leaned in, his mouth right next to the blonde man's ear. He chuckled as the blonde man recoiled. "I know what left that scar, oh yes, I know."

And faster than the blonde man could even think, react in anyway, the other man punched him. Right on that scar. Hard enough to send his chair toppling over.

He spat blood out of his mouth, right onto the cement floor. "Luke," The black haired man said, grinning like a devil. "I know who's nails raked down your face. Scarring you like the piece of shit you are." He kicked Luke, right in the chest. The chair jolted back.

"You are a fucking prick Percy." Luke spat, heaving his breaths.

"Oh, you got that right." Percy hissed, grabbing the back of the chair and hauling him up, slamming it down so Luke bit down on his own tongue. "When some asshat hurts someone I care about, I can be the biggest prick you've ever seen."

Luke let loose a string of curse words, so filthy Percy just roared with laughter.

"What do you want from me?" Luke cursed, spitting blood onto Percy's boot. "Say sorry to that bitch? In your dreams. She loves me, she would never let you do this. And once she finds out, your sorry ass is going to be kicked to the curb." The foul words didn't hit their mark, Percy only grinned.

"You really think so?" He circled again, spinning the steele in his hand. "Ask yourself this, who was it that set you up down here? Thalia is the one who told you to come down here to talk to Annabeth. You really think she doesn't know what's going on?" Luke snarled, his blue eyes filling with wrath as he finally understood.

"You fucking-"

"Shut the rutting hell up!" Snapped a new voice. And Annabeth walked out, stopping beside Percy's side. Her face was pale, hands shaking as she glared at Luke with such fury it was a surprise he didn't burst into flames.

Luke smiled, trying to turn on the charm that had worked for him his whole life. "Annie, you know I wasn't trying to hurt you. You know I love you." The honeyed words were like oil sliding down the walls.

She shook her head, holding in a snarl. "You only love yourself. That's all you've ever loved." Luke's lip pulled back, and he started to curse Annabeth soundly. He shut up when her fist slammed into his temple, quicker than he ever could be. "You think we need to keep you tied up?" She hissed into his ear, as close as a lover and terrifying as a nightmare. "We only did it to save time. I say one word and Percy will gut you like a fish, I say another and he'll stand there while I do it. Are we clear?"

Her grey eyes swirled, tornados and thunderclouds had nothing on the storm raging in those irises. Percy grinned behind her, loving it as he watched the color drain from Luke face.

"Now here's the deal." She said, resting the tip of her nail on the top of his scar. "You are going to leave." She started to drag her nail down, hard enough to sting. "You are never going to touch another person without their consent again. And we will be keeping eyes on you, at all times. If we hear that you are not obeying . . . " She finished her line down his face and clenched her teeth together, meeting his eyes. "You will not like the end result."

With a flick of her wrist she dug her nail deep enough to open up the scar tissue. All the way down his face she dragged her nail. Leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

He roared, and she breathed in the terror leaking from him.

Pride echoed in her gut, not her own, but Percy's. Pride, not at her actions, but at how she was handling herself, at her facing him and winning. No fear as she let Luke scream, no hatred as she let it go on. No condemning.

Never from him.

Annabeth stood back up, wiping her finger on Luke's shirt. "Now." She rolled her shoulders. "You are going to be escorted out of the city by these two," A wave of her hand and two people stepped into the light. One was pale, longer black hair pulled back in a ponytail at his nape, the other was a woman with cinnamon curls and golden cat eyes.

"This is Nico."

The male grinned, showing pointed teeth. His skull and cross bones T-shirt clung to his slim frame, all muscle.

"And this is Hazel."

She smirked, crossing her arms. The red leather jacket she wore over her black tank top sighing with the motion. Her golden eyes flickered, flaring as she twisted her fingers and red light danced over her nails.

"Have fun." Annabeth purred, blowing a kiss before sauntering out.