What to Expect When You're Expecting a Demigod

Introduction: A Mother's Tale

Look, I didn't ask to be the parent of a half-blood.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: read this book right now. Without this, you won't know what to do with your demigod child.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. Being the parent of one is, too. It's scary. Most of the time your child will get killed in painful, nasty ways. That's why this was made; to learn how to keep your child safe.

If you have a normal kid, and are reading this because you thinks it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that these things aren't happening.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

•

My name is Claudia Bright.

I'm thirty-seven years old.

But we aren't going to start my story here; we're going back thirteen years - back to when I was young, single, and beautiful.

And I'm not going to lie: back to when my life was almost normal.

It wasn't a place you'd expect to meet a god. Though, I suppose there aren't any places you'd actually expect to meet an immortal being.

It was a Starbucks, in the vast city of New York, in the summer. The sun was shining, the sidewalks were full, the commuters were yelling profanities - a regular day in NYC.

I had just payed for my coffee, and I turned to leave, when a man blocked my way. At first, I was nervous. He was taller than me, stronger than me, and...really handsome. A warm smile crept towards his face and I relaxed.

"You dropped this," he held out my wallet, and I felt my pocket briefly to confirm it's absence.

"Oh," I replied, taking it. Most people would have stolen my wallet if they found it on the floor. In fact, most people would've taken it from my pocket. So I smiled. "Thank you, sir."

I turned to leave again, the man already forgotten, but he seemed to have other plans.

He followed me outside, and struck up a conversation.

"Have you ever wondered about the siren on the logo?"

"Hmm?" I glanced at my cup, the Starbucks logo. "Siren?"

"You know," he said. "From mythology. Sirens at sea, they lure men into their waters and drown them?"

The truth was, I didn't know. I didn't know anything about mythology, let alone drowning sea-spirits.

"Are you trying to imply that Starbucks is luring sailors to their deaths?" I questioned playfully. He chuckled.

"No. It's just - Starbucks gets all the attention, right? Like, most teenagers and half the adults will pick this place over a Tim Hortons. I'm just saying...maybe the shops are run by magical beings from mythology who lure us to their stores to pay for overpriced coffee."

I turned, and for the first time since we left the Starbucks, I got a good look at him.

He was slim, but athletic-looking. His skin was tan, and his hair was bleach blonde. He wore a blue t-shirt and kaki-shorts, and flip flops on his feet. Those clothes may be acceptable to wear to a beach, but on the busy streets of New York he looked out of place.

"I didn't catch your name." I told him, curious now. He was either a weirdo, or an unexpectedly great guy.

"Well, Claudia, my name is Arnold."

I furrowed my brows as a man walked right between us on the sidewalk. When he had disappeared, I pulled Arnold into the nearest shop to get away from the crowds and asked him, "How do you know my name."