Shelter (Solangelo)

Chapter 17

"Oh, wait. That should do it."

Lou Ellen sounds calmer. The dream clings to him and he doesn't want to leave it. Nico blinks again, not sure he's actually seeing what he thinks he's seeing.

The dashboard shimmers. It's different than the one he's been staring at thus far. He turns to Jules-Albert and a very handsome young man wearing a black cap on top of his brown curls flashes him a smile from the driver's seat before turning his attention back to the road.

Nico turns around. The back of the seat isn't there any longer; instead he's looking through an open space above a small door and he realizes the car has elongated into a limousine. Lou Ellen shakes Will's shoulder, waking him. He's sitting on a two-seat bench against the side of the limo, shaking his head as he comes back from the dream. Neither he nor Lou Ellen look like themselves.

Will's hair is styled in golden-and-white-streaked ringlets offsetting his outfit – a black leather vest crisscrossed with silver chains and matching pants. He has an electric guitar slung over his shoulder and when he opens his eyes all the way, they stand out in sharp relief against his skin, glowing bluer than ever. Nico swallows, his throat almost recalling the sensation from his dream. Black eyeliner rims his eyes, and the way he looks at Nico, as if he wants to devour him, makes Nico's legs feel like rubber.

Lou Ellen, too, has her shoulder-length black hair teased up in curls and ringlets. Her eyes are dark and heavily lidded. She's wearing a dress that looks like it belongs in a fetish night club. Nico's stomach churns when he realizes why Will hasn't said anything and why he's apparently unable to tear his eyes away.

No way. Oh, Hades no.

He turns back around and flips the sunshade down, looking in the mirror. His hair is styled in a mess of spiky locks, and he's wearing nearly as much makeup as Lou Ellen. His eyes lined and shadowed, lips painted black. When he takes in his outfit he wants to disappear. He's dressed in a tight leather waist-cincher type thing, leaving his arms bare, and his black pants are so tight, they look painted on.

Then he looks out the windshield. They're moving at a snail’s pace, surrounded by a crowd of people screaming and holding up signs and banners. Jules-Albert follows a motorcycle cop who seems to be escorting them through the masses.

Nico's brain hurts. He unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the short door to the back. Where he normally carries his Stygian iron sword, a pair of drumsticks dangle from his belt. He glares at Lou Ellen as he sits in a sideways seat. "What in Tartarus is going on?"

Will's cheeks flush, almost glowing under the powder on his face. "I'm wondering the same thing."

Lou Ellen looks at them both and wrings her hands. "Sorry, guys. But we got caught in this mess of traffic." She waves her hands at the shaded windows. “There was a group of Empousai in the crowd before I changed the car. I banished them with a prayer to my mom, but I'm not sure they were alone. I figured we'd have better luck getting through traffic if we were escorted with the rest of the bands." She pouts and crosses her arms in her lap. "It's not easy to control the mist to this extent. And you were both crashed out."

The car jolts and they freeze as three loud thuds hit its side. Nico's heart races a mile a minute. He glances back at Jules-Albert, who seems perfectly content to wait for the motorcycle cop to start leading him again.

"What if I shadow-traveled us out of here?"

Will's shoots daggers at him with his eyes. "Always with the shadow-travel!"

Nico can't help but wince at the anger in Will's voice. He glares back. "Well, do you have a better suggestion?"

The car jolts again and starts moving forward at a slow crawl.