❛❜Wanna see a magic trick?❛❜
❛❜Don't scare the kid, Shei!❛❜
°∘❉∘°
- in which, a girl who attracts danger
tries to understand her dangerous power,
but the answer finds itself to be
a boy with eyes coloured just like the sea
°∘❉∘°
amazing co...
❝ I'm twelve! I can't exactly get driving lessons! ❞
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☆ ☼ ☆
When Sheila saw the war god, it took everything in her not to snap. The trap had taken the last of her patience. Her curls were wet. Her shoes were ruined. She still had a sick feeling in her stomach caused by the moving boat. The spare inhaler in her pocket was broken, leaving her with only one. Seeing Ares' smirk made her want to burn his face off. She would have done it if Annabeth's arm wasn't hooked through hers.
Ares' voice polluting the air added to Sheila's frustration as he spoke, "Well, well, you didn't get yourself killed."
"You knew it was a trap," Percy spoke, his eyes flickering over the fuming witch for a second.
Ares gave him a wicked grin and glanced at Sheila. "I knew you'd figure it out. Bet your father was surprised when you outsmarted his trap. You two looked good on TV."
Percy shoved Ares' shield at him. "You're a jerk."
Annabeth and Grover caught their breath while Sheila allowed a smirk to form on her face. She was pleased to see someone treating the Gods as normal humans. It would do some good to their unimaginably high ego. Although, she slightly feared the consequences Percy would have to face.
Grabbing his shield, Ares spun it in the air. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. "See that truck over there?" Ares 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."
Looking the vehicle up and down, Sheila hoped it wasn't what she thought it was. Percy didn't seem impressed either, but Grover was fuming.
Ares snapped his fingers, and similarly to when Sheila cast unlocking spells, the truck's back door was unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."
He tossed a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars to Percy. Sheila peeked inside, resisting the urge to sigh in contentment and show gratitude. Inside were fresh clothes for each of them, approximately twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of double-stuffed Oreos.
"I don't want your lousy—"
"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted Percy, giving him his best warning look. "Thanks a lot."
Sheila crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah. Thanks for sending us into a trap and repaying us with an illegal truck," she commented. "You still owe Percy information about his mother."
Standing her ground, she stared Ares dead in his eyes. Unlike earlier with Percy, the war god seemed amused by her attitude. "Sure you can handle the news?" he asked Percy, kick-starting his motorcycle. "She's not dead."
