GUESS WHAT, EVERYBODY? I'M BAAAACK!
Yup, I finished writing my other chapter-fic, which means it's finally time to get this voyage underway! Now, a warning before you scroll down:
*ahem* YOU MUST READ "FIRE AT WILL" BEFORE PROCEEDING. This is a direct sequel and as it's an AU, you really won't understand at ALL unless you've read FAW. I mean it. Trust me, though, it's a fun read. You won't regret it ;)
That being said, welcome to Fire at Will's sequel, Eagle Eye! I know it's been a longer wait than I was anticipating, but it's here and I'm gonna try my darndest to make it worth the wait. It's gonna be another 20 chapters, just like FAW, and they'll vary in length, probably once again getting longer near the end. Expect just as much action, drama, and excitement, though, because I've got something of an addiction to those things.
Also, the song lyrics I'll be sticking at the openings are from "Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back" by My Chemical Romance. The sound and words fit the tone of this story to a T.
So how about a bit of action to start us off, huh? Heeeeeere we go!
I hope you're ready for a firefight / 'Cause the devil's got your number tonight
Percy Jackson woke in the middle of the night with a knife inches from his throat.
He should have seen it coming. His life had been far too quiet and easy for the past fourteen months since he'd moved to London to escape his power-hungry uncle. After all, fate had never been particularly kind to him before. Why should he have any reason to think it would start now? Ever since he'd joined his father's organization when he was fifteen, he'd been used to danger. Being one of the heirs to the largest criminal organization in the United States, it basically came with the territory. But no amount of training or combat practice could prepare someone for fighting off a black-clad, knife-wielding intruder in a dark room hours past midnight while half-asleep.
No, in that situation, you pretty much had to wing it.
It was the shift in pressure on the bed that woke him up. His eyes opened halfway at the disturbance, just enough to see the reflective flash of the blade as it neared his neck. The shock jolted his mind to attention like a bucket of water had been dumped on his head and he threw up his arms to brace the attack, grabbing the arm wielding the knife with both hands and holding it back with what little strength sleep hadn't taken from his limbs.
Gritting his teeth as the intruder grappled against him, Percy frantically kicked at the body lying beside him—the sleeping form of his former-CIA-assassin fiancée. "Annabeth!" he called hoarsely, his voice rough with sleep. "Wake up!"
Annabeth gave a low groan and rolled toward him, reaching up to rub her eyes. "Why, what's—?" Her yawn turned into a gasp and she sat bolt upright, finally getting a look at the situation at hand.
"Help me!" Percy yelled, feeling the tip of the knife poke at his skin. He forced his knee up into the intruder's stomach, but the person only grunted and shoved harder, and it was all he could do to keep from being beheaded.
Annabeth blinked and shook her head before lunging for the intruder without so much as a word. She rammed her shoulder into his side and he toppled over the side of the bed with a surprised shout and a dull thud. Percy released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and sat up, rubbing the thin, shallow slice on his neck that the attacker's knife had carved as he fell.
The man was on his feet almost immediately, the narrow streak of moonlight from the bedroom window finally allowing Percy and Annabeth to get a better look at him. His face was inconspicuous—brown hair, clean-shaven, probably in his late twenties. He was dressed all in black, likely the better to hide in the shadows of the night. Percy didn't recognize his face, but that didn't mean much. He could be anyone.
Anyone on a mission to kill him, anyway.
The intruder didn't waste any time. He darted toward the bed again, brandishing his hunting knife with practiced ease and speed. Percy and Annabeth dodged to either side to avoid being gutted. Annabeth fell off the foot of the bed with a thump and Percy's legs tangled in the sheets as the intruder dove between them. He ignored Annabeth and twisted around, reaching for Percy with his free hand. Clucking his tongue with a scowl, Percy ducked the grab and quickly disentangled himself from the sheet, jumping off the bed and to his feet. As soon as he'd done so, however, the man took the chance to tackle him, dragging him to the ground and leaning over him. Percy ducked another jab of the knife and grabbed the attacker's arm, pushing it out from under him and pulling him to his side on the floor. He grabbed the man's right wrist—the one holding the blade—and forced it away from him. The intruder kicked him hard in the stomach and his grip faltered as the wind was swept from his lungs.
As soon as the man rose to his knees, Annabeth wrapped both arms around his neck from behind in a tight chokehold. Immediately, he reached his hands up and the blade of his knife grazed her upper right arm. She gasped and her grip seemed to loosen, allowing the intruder to elbow her in the stomach and twist around, tackling her and throwing her back onto the bed. She shoved him to the side and they rolled over one another until he succeeded in knocking her off the foot of the bed and onto the floor.
With a growl, Percy climbed to his feet and went after the man, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him around in time to throw a right hook at his jaw. The attacker stumbled back against the bed and Percy grabbed his forearm, twisting it until the knife dropped from his grip and earning a shallow slice across the wrist in return. The assassin hooked his boot around Percy's ankle and pulled, causing him to stumble. The man then pushed forward and knocked them both to the ground, his hands wrapping tightly around Percy's throat.
All his muscles seemed to tighten painfully as his lungs tried and failed to draw breath. He reached up and yanked on the collar of the intruder's jacket, trying to distract him, but the grip around his neck only tightened. He could feel the strength seeping out of him like water through a dam, blood roaring in his ears and his head pounding. He gritted his teeth and used what force he had left to drive his knee into the attacker's gut, eliciting a grunt of pain as he loosened his hold just a bit.
Then suddenly a loud crash sounded and shards of glass rained down from above. The intruder swore loudly and jerked away, pulling his hands from Percy's throat and stumbling backward unsteadily. Percy gasped and coughed as air rushed into his lungs, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, he saw the assassin turn in his crouch and lunge for Annabeth's legs. She was standing over them, still holding the remains of the lamp she'd smashed against the man's back, and she leapt backward to avoid being tackled. As she did so, the man jumped to his feet and hit her under the chin with a strong uppercut, knocking her back to the floor.
The attacker advanced on Annabeth, and when Percy noticed that the dagger was back in his hand a powerful sense of anger flooded through him. "Annabeth!" he called, hoping to get her attention so she'd get out of the way. Not willing to count only on that, however, he jumped up from the floor and dashed forward, hands curling into fists. He latched onto the assassin's shoulder and yanked him backward, ready to aim another right hook to his face which hopefully would knock him out, but the man turned quickly and drove a fist into Percy's stomach before he got the chance.
Immediately a searing pain tore through him, almost like he'd been injected with hot lava. His muscles tightened, freezing his body in place like a statue, and his train of thought seemed so slow to a crawl. The only coherent thought that would form was that no punch could ever hurt that much.
A dark, satisfied smile—almost a sneer—appeared on the man's face. He laughed a low snicker and jerked his arm backward. Another white-hot flash of pain sliced through Percy's body and he screamed through tightly-gritted teeth, feeling all the tension in his muscles release at once. Then the attacker reached out, giving Percy a light backward shove. He stumbled, his legs feeling suddenly weak, and staggered back against the dresser behind him. His gaze shifted downward and a horrible understanding filled his mind, causing his throat to tighten in dread. The blade of the assassin's hunting knife was dripping red—coated in the same blood quickly soaking Percy's shirt from the stab wound in his stomach.
"Percy!" Annabeth frantically called his name from across the room. He looked up and squinted through the blackness edging across his vision to see the intruder back quickly toward the open window. Annabeth shot the man an anxious glance, but instead of moving toward him she rushed to her fiancé's side.
Taking his chance, the intruder climbed onto the windowsill, turning back to give them one last triumphant smirk. "Zeus sends his regards," he said smugly. Then he leapt out the window and was gone.
A cold, heavy weight seemed to press down on Percy at those words. Zeus, he thought as he slid to the floor, his back against the dresser. He should have known his uncle wouldn't let him go—that it would only be a matter of time before he found him and sent someone to eliminate him. He had no intentions of usurping his uncle's claim to the organization, but still Zeke saw him as a liability. And that made him dangerous—a threat that had to be dealt with in whatever way possible. He'd thought he was safe, that he'd escaped his uncle's wrath. But he should have known better. There was no escaping a man as powerful as Ezekiel Grace.
"Hang on, okay?" Annabeth was saying, her voice shaking just as badly as her hands as she pressed them over the open stab wound on his abdomen, trying to stem the blood flow and only staining her fingers red in the process. "I'm gonna call for help. Just hang on. Oh, God…"
The world seemed to be moving in slow-motion. As she leaned over him, he looked up at her, wishing he could tell her that everything would be fine. But no matter how hard he tried to say the words, his voice refused to work properly, and all that came out was a weak, breathless, "Don't…" He tried to force a smile, but even the muscles in his face had drained of strength and will, and the corner of his mouth turned up just barely before falling lax.
Percy watched as tears filled Annabeth's eyes—the beautiful gray eyes that could never quite conceal what emotions were trapped behind them. But now, he would have given anything not to see through them, because in her eyes all he saw was desperation and loss, a terrible, anxious sadness that no amount of acting prowess could disguise. And it only worsened his own hurt in return, to see the woman he loved in so much pain.
And all because of Ezekiel Grace.
A tiny spark of anger ignited within Percy at the thought of his uncle. His lungs tightened painfully, every breath a new dagger in his body. His senses had dulled, black spots had begun to swim across his vision, and though he desperately wanted to move he couldn't make his muscles comply. He held onto that anger, using it as an anchor and making a futile, impossible promise that one day Zeke would pay for everything he'd done. But soon, even that faded into smoke, leaving his mind numb and empty.
Percy was distantly aware of Annabeth calling his name, but his eyelids felt heavy and little by little the world around him was fading from existence. His last thought before the darkness seeped in over it all was that at least she was safe—because anymore, that was all that mattered.
Before you say anything, do NOT worry. He's not gonna die. I switch back and forth erratically between Percy and Annabeth's POV in this, so the focus is almost evenly split.
That being said, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Excited for this story? Tired of my irritating tirades? Want me to shut the heck up and get writing? You're probably right about that one. I've got a doc open right behind this window on my computer with the first like third of Chapter 3 written up, haha.
So how about a review? Let me know you're with me? It's gonna be another wild ride, kiddies, that's for dang sure.
Later days!
-oMM
