¹On This Spring Day, percy jackson & the olympians

012.

ON THIS SPRING DAY
━━━━━ chapter twelve

━━━━━ "ARE YOU WEARING—"

"Don't you dare say anything!" Violet said shrilly, doing her best to wipe the lipstick away.

Thalia raised her hands in an Okay, I won't manner. "Fine. But you're telling me later."

The limousine had disappeared with the red dust off the ground. The road, the taco restaurant, and the whole town of Gila Claw were gone. Just like that. Once Aphrodite was done with Violet and Percy, she and Ares were gone. The questers were standing in the middle of the junkyard, mountains of scrap metal stretched out in every direction.

"What did she want with you?' Bianca asked, once Violet and Percy told them about Aphrodite.

Violet looked Percy's way, but the boy refused to look at her. "Oh, uh, not sure," he said with a pathetic shrug. "She said to be careful in her husband's junkyard. She said not to pick anything up."

Zoë narrowed her eyes. And then she looked to Violet. "The Goddess of Love would not make a special trip to tell thee that. Be careful. Aphrodite has led many heroes astray."

"For once, I agree with Zoë," Thalia said. "You can't trust Aphrodite."

Despite the fact the sentiment that could be made for all deities of love and a lack of trust, Violet still agreed with Thalia and Zoë. That conversation with Aphrodite left a sour taste in her mouth. Sure, talking about love was great. It was fun and all, but not in the middle of a life-threatening quest. And Violet didn't enjoy being talked about as if she was entertainment, just some interesting gossip that would die down whenever she wasn't entertaining enough anymore. It was beyond dehumanizing, and not what she expected from Aphrodite.

But to be honest, she didn't know what to expect from the Goddess of Love. Someone completely infatuated with love? Sure, the goddess was. And her love of love was partly what made the goddess so beautiful, like some youthful beauty that could never be squashed by the twisted hands of fate. A goddess completely infatuated with her own appearance? She seemed to care about what she looked like, but she also seemed to care more about helping others find what makes their features stand out the best. ( And besides, who doesn't care what they look like? You're lying if you say you don't! ) Maybe Violet was expecting someone completely and utterly vain. Which—perhaps Aphrodite was. But so were all the other gods. Very few had true humanity.

Grover was looking at her funny. And Violet frowned at him. "What?" she whispered to him.

The satyr shrugged. "You've been ... off the past few days. Are you all right?"

Violet internally cursed herself. She forgot satyrs could read emotions like that, especially with how empathetic Grover was. "S'nothing," she brushed him off. "Just worried about Annabeth and Artemis. You know, the deadline and all."

But the satyr didn't look convinced. He shook his head. "It's like something ... dark. I dunno, Vi, I think it's—"

The daughter of Eros's eyes widened at the word 'dark'. She licked her lips and glanced around, as if looking to see if anyone was listening in. When no one was looking in their direction, all too busy talking among themselves about Aphrodite and Percy dodging questions, she spoke to the group, "We need to—uh—find a way out. Out of the junkyard."