Child of lightning-Percy Jackson X reader-Book two

I Fight-Club a bull

If we're talking about mythology, then the only thing I hate worse than trios of old ladies is bulls.

Last summer, Percy and I fought the Minotaur on top of Half-Blood Hill. This time what I saw up there was immensely worse: two bulls. And not just the regular kind, oh no that would be way too easy. These were bronze ones the size of elephants. And even that wasn't bad enough. Naturally they had to breathe fire too.

As soon as we exited the taxi, the Gray Sisters sped off, heading back to New York where life was safer. They didn't even wait for their extra three-drachma payment. They just left us on the side of the road, Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, Tyson, Percy and I still in our semi burned-up tie-dyed gym clothes.

"Oh, man," said Annabeth, looking at the battle raging on the hill.

The bulls were probably my biggest concern at that moment. You know, either that or the ten heroes in full battle armor who were getting absolutely pulverized. What worried me was that the bulls were raging all over the hill, even around the back side of the pine tree. That definitely shouldn't have been possible. The camp's magic boundaries didn't allow monsters to cross past Thalia's tree. But apparently the metal bulls didn't get the memo about that one.

One of the heroes shouted, "border patrol to me!" A girl's voice—gruff and familiar.

Border patrol? I thought. I had only been at the camp for one summer but I was still fairly sure that they didn't have a border patrol.

"It's Clarisse," Annabeth said. "Come on, we have to help her."

Normally, rushing to Clarisse's aid would not have been all too high on my "to do" list. She was one of the biggest bullies at camp. The first time we'd met she tried to dunk my head into a toilet. She was also a daughter of Ares, and let's just say me and my friends had a very serious disagreement with her father last summer. So now the god of war and all his children basically hated our guts.

Still, she was in trouble. Her fellow warriors were scattering, running in panic as the bulls charged. The grass was burning in huge swathes around the pine tree. One hero screamed and waved his arms as he ran in circles, the horsehair plume on his helmet blazing like a match.

Clarisse's own armor was scorched. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder.

Percy uncapped his ballpoint pen. It shimmered, growing longer until he held his bronze sword Riptide in his hands. "Tyson, stay here. I don't want you taking any more chances."

"No!" Annabeth said. "We need him."

I stared at her. "He's mortal Annabeth. We can't just—"

"Joey, do you know what those are up there? The Colchis bulls, made by Hephaestus himself. We can't fight them without Medea's Sunscreen SPF 50,000. We'll get burned to a crisp."

Percy shook his head. "Medea's what?"

Annabeth rummaged through her backpack and cursed. "I had a jar of tropical coconut scent sitting on my night-stand at home. Why didn't I bring it?"

I'd learned a long time ago not to question Annabeth too much. It just made me more confused.

"Annabeth, I don't care about your sunscreen. I'm not gonna let Tyson go up there!" I argued as I unclipped Ether and watched it grow into a full sized sword.

"Joey—"

"No, Joey's right. Tyson, stay back." Percy raised his sword. "I'm going in."

Tyson tried to protest, but I was already chasing Percy up the hill toward Clarisse, who was yelling at her patrol, trying to get them into phalanx formation. Whatever that was, it looked like a good idea. The few who were listening lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, locking their shields to form an ox-hide—a bronze wall, their spears bristling over the top like porcupine quills.