Abracadabra | Percy Jackson

1.8

      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 snapped, quickly approaching the war god.

Ares gave him a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled black-smith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

"You're a jerk." Percy said, throwing the shield at Ares.

Atalanta smiled at the action while Annabeth and Grover flinched back.

It may have been stupid to say to a god but it was deserved so Atalanta was in full support of him.

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 she 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.

"You're kidding." Atalanta deadpanned.

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.

Atalanta narrowed her eyes at the backpack. Why would he give them anything? It was suspicious.

" We don't want your lousy-"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving Percy his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot."

Atalanta and Percy exchanged a look of disgust. Neither of them wanted something that Ares had touched.

Atalanta was smart enough not to put that into words since she didn't want Ares to smite her or her friends, but it was severely tempting.

Reluctantly Percy slung the backpack on his shoulder, also smart enough to realize that talking back wasn't a good idea at the moment.

Studying him, the golden eyed girl noticed that he had an angry look on his face.

Pausing, Atalatna looked to see a similar look on Grover and Annabeth's face.

The dark haired girl glanced back at the war god. Of course. They were reacting the his powers.

Inconspicuously, she created a light shield around the trio to keep their mind somewhat clear of the angry manipulations of Ares. 

Atalanta glanced back at the diner. It was now filled up with a few customers.

The waitress who'd served the quartet 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.

'Of course' Atalanta thought with a roll of her eyes. They were sure to make the papers again tomorrow.

Something like: GROUP OF YOUNG OUTLAWS ATTACK AND INJURE DEFENSELESS BIKER.