Reincarnation in the PJO verse: Volume 1

『Run Boy Run, This Race is A Prophecy』

Tyson, Grover, Annabeth, Diedre, Theo, Yash, Bianca and Nico were all tossed in a corner, tied up like rodeo animals, with their ankles and wrists roped together and their mouths gagged.

"Let them go!" Percy yelled, still out of breath from running up the steps. "I cleaned the stables!"

Geryon turned. He wore an apron on each chest, with one word on each, so together they spelt out: KISS—THE—CHEF. "Did you, now? How'd you manage it?"

Percy seemed pretty impatient, but he told him.

He nodded appreciatively. "Very ingenious. It would've been better if you'd poisoned that pesky naiad, but no matter."

"Let my friends go," Percy said. "We had a deal."

"Ah, I've been thinking about that. The problem is, if I let them go, I don't get paid."

"You promised!"

Geryon made a tsk-tsk noise. "But did you make me swear on the River Styx? No, you didn't. So it's not binding. When you're conducting business, sonny, you should always get a binding oath."

Percy drew his sword. Orthus growled. One head leaned down next to Grover's ear and bared its fangs.

"Eurytion," Geryon said, "the boy is starting to annoy me. Kill him." Eurytion studied me. I didn't like my odds against him and that huge club. "Kill him yourself," Eurytion said.
Geryon raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Eurytion grumbled. "You keep sending me out to do your dirty work. You pick fights for no good reason, and I'm getting tired of dying for you. You want to fight the kid, do it yourself."

It was the most un-Areslike thing Percy'd ever heard the son of Ares say.

Geryon threw down his spatula. "You dare defy me? I should fire you right now!"

"And who'd take care of your cattle? Orthus, heel."

The dog immediately stopped growling at Grover and came to sit by the cowherd's feet.

"Fine!" Geryon snarled. "I'll deal with you later after the boy is dead!"

He picked up two carving knives and threw them at me. I deflected one with my sword. The other impaled itself in the picnic table an inch from Eurytion's hand.

Percy went on the attack. Geryon parried his first strike with a pair of red-hot tongs and lunged at his face with a barbecue fork. He got inside his next thrust and stabbed him right through the middle chest.

"Agh!" He crumpled to his knees. He waited for him to disintegrate, the way monsters usually do. Instead, he just grimaced and started to stand up. The wound in his chef's apron started to heal.

"Nice try, sonny," he said. "Thing is, I have three hearts. The perfect backup system."

He tipped over the barbecue, and coals spilt everywhere. One landed next to Annabeth's face, and she let out a muffled scream. Tyson strained against his bonds, but even his strength wasn't enough to break them. Percy jabbed Geryon in the left chest, but he only laughed. He stuck him in the right stomach. No good. He might as well have been sticking a sword in a teddy bear for all the reaction he showed.

Three hearts. The perfect backup system. Stabbing one at a time was no good... Percy ran into the house.

"Coward!" he cried. "Come back and die right!"
The living room walls were decorated with a bunch of gruesome hunting trophies—stuffed deer and dragon heads, a gun case, a sword display, and a bow with a quiver.

Geryon threw his barbecue fork, which thudded into the wall next to my head. He drew two swords from the wall display. "Your head's gonna go right there, Jackson! Next to the grizzly bear!"