Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.

Chapter One

I Battle a Pair of Bitchie-Witchie Barbies

The last thing I wanted to do on my summer break was blow up yet another school. Or any buildings at all for that matter. But Chiron had decided that I needed a 'break' from my life of violence and mythology-in-the-flesh, so there I was on Monday morning, the first week of June, sitting in one of the camp SUVs in front of Goode High School on East 81st.

Goode was this big brownstone building overlooking the East River. A bunch of BMWs and Lincoln Town Cars were parked out front. Staring up at the fancy stone archway, I wondered how long it would take me to get kicked out of this place. Or go insane. 50-50 chance by the looks of it.

"This is so unfair," I mumbled, more to myself than to Argus, who had driven me to the damn place. "What's even the point of this? I'm just gonna get expelled for being attacked by whatever anyway."

Argus, of course, said nothing. I sighed grumpily and picked my satchel up as I undid my seatbelt. I pulled the brown leather strap over my shoulder and let the purple fabric rest against my left hip as I exited the SUV and straightened up, slamming the door closed without a goodbye.

When I pressed against a hidden pocket of my bag, a Solstice gift from the girls at Camp, I could feel a Swiss Army-style Celestial Bronze knife hidden in it. It was just as comforting as the familiar feeling of my hairpin/sword, and the other Celestial Bronze knife I had under my shirt and strapped to my sides, with another attached to my ankle and tucked underneath my denim jeans. Both knives were also Solstice gifts, made personally by Beck. In short, I was armed to the teeth.

Since being rescued from Mount Othrys, I'd been, tense, to say the least. And having anything less than my sword and at least one knife on me at all times was grounds for panic to start to overwhelm me. I despised how fragile I felt (and the ever-lessening amount of time until the Apocalypse, a.k.a my sixteenth birthday didn't help either.), and I knew my friends were all worried for me.

Every so often, they slipped and treated me like I was a China doll or something. That, in turn, made my temper flare in defensiveness, and caused me to lash out at them. It said a lot about how amazing they all were that they hadn't started to resent me for my schizophrenic attitude in the last few months.

I'd been having trouble controlling my powers too. It wasn't something I was used to. Every time I gained a new power, I had instinctively been able to control it. But my powers were linked to my emotions, and my mental state was a disaster. Chiron kept trying to get me to 'confront what happened', but therein lay the road to insanity. (And, given my power set, severe property damage).

So now, I was being sent to school of all things. Where did Chiron come up with these ideas?

The sound of Argus driving off startled out of my thoughts, making me jolt and reach for one of my knives, and I sighed as I realized that I wasn't about to be attacked. I looked up at the school, pursing my lips in distaste.

A man with salt-and-pepper hair in a brown leather jacket, presumably a teacher, was greeting a girl with frizzy red hair. She wore a maroon T-shirt and ratty jeans decorated with marker drawings. When she turned, I caught a glimpse of her face, and the hairs on my arms stood straight up.

"Shit," I mumbled under my breath, remembering seeing the events of Hoover Dam through Luke's eyes whilst unconscious. Was that really her? It seemed like a pretty big coincidence, but I was a demigod, so... I turned from side to side, finally catching a glimpse of another entrance.

Adjusting my bag to hide the fact that I was checking my knives, I made my way towards it. Even if it wasn't Miss Sees-Through-the-Mist, I still didn't like the thought of being squeezed into that large group of people.

Sneaking into orientation didn't work out too well. Two cheerleaders in purple-and-white uniforms were standing at the side entrance, waiting to ambush freshmen trying to avoid the crowds (like me).

"Hi!" They smiled, which I figured was the first and last time any cheerleaders would be that friendly to me. Everybody would soon be put off by my foster care backstory and the icy demeanour I tended to gain when around mortals who considered being grounded and SATs as the height of torture.

One was blond with icy blue eyes. The other was African American with dark curly hair like Medusa's (and believe me, I know what I'm talking about. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt). Both girls had their names stitched in cursive on their uniforms, but with my dyslexia, the words looked like meaningless spaghetti. Just looking at them made my temples start to throb in pain.

"Welcome to Goode," the blond girl said in an overly-bright tone. "You are so going to love it." The contemptuous expression she wore as she eyed my faded Camp t-shirt and torn skinny jeans betrayed her true thoughts however.

The other girl stepped uncomfortably close to me. I studied the stitching on her uniform and thought it said Kelli. I could've been wrong though. She smelled like roses and something else I recognized from riding lessons and working in the stables at camp—the scent of freshly washed horses. It was a weird smell for a cheerleader. Didn't they usually wear Chanel or something?

At least, Drew Tanaka, the bitchiest person at camp, was a cheerleader at her school and that's what she wore. (Granted, all the Cabin 9 kids claimed that monsters avoided Chanel like the plague, so I kinda got what they bothered wasting all that money on it.)

She stood so close I got the feeling she was going to try to push me down the steps. At least if I had a concussion I could probably get out of orientation. "What's your name, fish?"

"Fish?"

"Freshman."

I raised an eyebrow incredulously as I replied in a curt tone, "Ana."

The girls exchanged looks.

"Oh, Ana Jackson," the blond one said, her voice seeming sinister to my paranoid ears. "We've been waiting for you."

That sent a chill down my back, my spine going rigid. I knew this was a terrible idea. They were blocking the entrance, smiling in a not-very-friendly way. My hand crept instinctively towards my side, hidden by my bag and pressing against the knife. I fumbled subtly to lift my shirt and unsheathe it. I'd prefer Anaklusmos, but reaching for my hair would be too obvious, especially since I was known for having a sword disguised as a hairpin.

Then another voice came from inside the building. "Hey, you guys need to get to the gym now. You're going to be late." It was the same teacher who'd been greeting people at the front door. I'd never been so relieved to see a mortal.

The cheerleaders backed off. I was so anxious to get past them I accidentally kneed Kelli in the thigh.

Clang.

Her leg made a hollow, metallic sound, like I'd just hit a flagpole.

"Ow," she muttered. "Watch it, fish."

I glanced down, but her leg looked like a regular old leg. I prayed desperately for a break and for it to be a prosthetic or something. I expected she was some kind of monster and decided to get away as quick as I could.

I dashed into the hall, the cheerleaders laughing behind me.

"Welcome to Goode!" the teacher greeted me cheerfully, apparently oblivious to everything that had just occurred. "I'm Paul Blofis, the English teacher here."

"Hey, uh, Mr. Blofish." I glanced back, but the suspicious, and probably monstrous, cheerleaders had disappeared. "I'm Ana Jackson."

He grinned at me. "It's Blofis, actually," he corrected me cheerfully, before clapping his hands together and beginning to walk, me trailing at his heels with a tension-filled spine. "But never mind that. Nice to meet you, Ana. I spoke with your guardian, Mr. Brunner, on the phone. He explained the circumstances, and I don't want you to worry. We have a few other foster kids here and we get a lot of kids here with ADHD and dyslexia. The teachers know how to help. We're all here if you need extra help or just to talk. We also have a very good guidance counsellor who you'll be introduced to later."

I almost wanted to laugh. If only foster care, ADHD and dyslexia were my biggest worries. I mean, I knew the guy was only trying to help, but if I told him the truth about me, he'd either think I was crazy or he'd run away screaming.

It didn't matter. If my suspicions were correct, then I wouldn't be here for long. Fights with monsters always caused property destruction, and those cheerleaders gave me a bad feeling. I could only think of one reason for them to recognize me, let alone be waiting for me. And I'm sure that they were waiting for me.

Then I looked down the hall, and I remembered I had another problem. The redheaded girl I'd seen on the front steps was just coming in the main entrance.

Thankfully, she had never seen me before, so although she noticed me, I didn't seem to register in her mind. Thank the gods for the obliviousness of mortals. Still, best not to tempt the Fates any more than I did by existing.

"Where's the orientation?" I asked Mr. Blowfish. Weird name, but I do like sea creatures. Fish were so innocent and foolish, how could I not?

"The gym. That way. But—"

"Bye."

"Ana?" he called, but I was already rushing away.

A bunch of kids were heading for the gym, and soon I was just one of three hundred fourteen-year-olds all crammed into the bleachers. I have to say, the whole thing was horrific in a very different way to battles with hundreds of lives at stake, but still horrific. At least to me it was.

A marching band played an out-of-tune fight song that sounded like somebody hitting a bag of cats with a metal baseball bat. Older kids, probably student council members, stood up front modelling the Goode school uniform and looking all, Hey, we're cool. Never mind that they were wearing grey and blue striped ties of all things with the school's emblem on their chests. Teachers milled around, smiling and shaking hands with students. The walls of the gym were plastered with big purple and-white banners that said WELCOME FUTURE FRESHMEN, GOODE IS GOOD, WE'RE ALL FAMILY, and a bunch of other happy slogans that pretty much made me want to throw up.

None of the other freshmen looked thrilled to be here, either. I mean, coming to orientation in June, when school doesn't even start until September, is not cool. But at Goode, "We prepare to excel early!" At least that's what the brochure said. Seriously, Chiron has to be punishing me for the incident with the arena last month. There is literally no other logical explanation for my being forced into this. This was not going to give me a break, unless he meant a breakdown.

The marching band stopped playing. A guy in a pinstripe suit came to the microphone and started talking, but the sound echoed around the gym so I had no idea what he was saying. He might've been advertising the benefits of toothfloss for all I knew.

Of course, my concern was mainly for the fact that I had somehow ended up standing right beside R.E.D, in yet another prank by those three Bitches-Who-Did-Stitches up on Olympus. On the bright side, though, she had no idea who I was or that I mattered in any way, and hopefully that would continue to be true. I wouldn't put money on it though.

The pinstriped guy stopped speaking and stepped away from the mike, leaving room for the suspicious cheerleaders to come up to it.

"Hi, guys!" the blonde bubbled into the microphone. Oh sure, she's audible. "My name is Tammi, and this is like, Kelli." Kelli did a cartwheel.

Next to me, R.E.D yelped like someone had stuck her with a pin. A few kids looked over and snickered, but she just stared at the cheerleaders in horror. Tammi didn't seem to notice the outburst. She started talking about all the great ways we could get involved during our freshman year.

My heart sank and I leaned over to her. "What do you see when you look at them?" I hissed. She looked back at me with wide, shocked green eyes.

"What?" I pressed.

"Run," she replied seriously. "Now."

"Why?"

Rachel didn't explain. She pushed her way to the edge of the bleachers, ignoring the frowning teachers and grumbling kids she was stepping on.

I hesitated. Tammi was explaining how we were about to break into small groups and tour the school. Kelli caught my eye and gave me an amused smile, like she was waiting to see what I'd do. She knew as well as I that it would be suspicious if I ditched.

I considered how it would look, R.E.D's ability to see reality, and my own suspicions about the two 'cheerleaders'. Then I dashed away, unconcerned for the mortals who were in my way.

I found Rachel in the band room. She was hiding behind a bass drum in the percussion section. Very badly at that, I mean seriously. Even Harley could find her, and Harley was six. Still, it presumably gave her a sense of safety, and an untrained mortal probably needed that.

"Get over here!" she hissed at me, waving.

Even if she had been well-hidden, speaking and the gesture would've screwed her over completely. Mortals, how did they survive without ingrained battle-instincts? Ya gotta wonder.

"Keep your head down!"

I felt ridiculously exposed and cornered hiding behind a bunch of bongos, but I crouched down beside her.

"Did they follow you?" Rachel asked tensely.

"You mean the cheerleaders?"

She nodded nervously.

"I don't think so," I replied. They'd been on stage when I left. Not enough time to follow me, and they'd be too obvious. "What are they? What did you see?"

Her green eyes were bright with fear. She had a sprinkle of freckles on her face that reminded me of constellations. Her maroon T-shirt read HARVARD ART DEPT. "You…you wouldn't believe me."

"Oh, yeah, I would," I promised. "I know you can see through the Mist. It's obvious, and I know what happened at Hoover Dam last winter."

Rachel looked shocked. "The what? How do you know what happened at the Dam?"

"The Mist. It's…well, it's like this veil that hides the way things really are. Some mortals are born with the ability to see through it. Like you. And as for the Dam thing, Luke, the guy you met, is my best friend."

She studied me carefully. "He did that too at Hoover Dam. Called me a mortal. Like you two aren't."

I felt like punching a bongo. What was I thinking? I could never explain. I shouldn't even try. Talking was not my forte, fighting was. Especially with my current mental state. There was a big difference between comforting an eleven-year-old who'd just arrived at Camp and seen the orientation video to actually explaining the reality of the world to someone. A mortal at that.

"Tell me," she begged. "You know what it means. All these horrible things I see?"

I bit my lip for a moment before sighing and deciding to give it my best shot. "Look, this is probably going to sound weird. Do you know anything about Greek myths?"

"Like…the Minotaur and the Hydra?"

"Yeah, just try not to say those names when I'm around, okay?"

"And the Furies," she continued, warming up. "And the Sirens, and—"

"Okay!" I looked around the band hall anxiously, sure that Rachel was going to make a bunch of bloodthirsty nasties pop out of the walls; but we were still alone. Not for long though. Down the hallway, I heard a mob of kids coming out of the gymnasium. They were starting the group tours. We didn't have long to talk.

"All those monsters," I said, "all the Greek gods—they're real."

"I knew it!"

I would've been more comfortable if she'd called me a liar, but Rachel looked like I'd just confirmed her worst suspicion.

"You don't know how hard it's been," she said. "For years I thought I was going crazy. I couldn't tell anybody. I couldn't—" Her eyes narrowed. "Wait. Who are you? I mean really?"

"A demigod," I replied curtly. "The gods are the same as ever, meaning they all go around having kids with mortals, and said kids go around being attacked by and fighting monsters."

Rachel's eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to speak, but she never got the chance to say anything.

Just then Tammi and Kelli stepped into the band room. The doors slammed shut behind them.

"There you are, Ana Jackson," Tammi said. "It's time for your orientation."

"They're horrible!" Rachel gasped.

Tammi and Kelli were still wearing their purple-and-white cheerleader costumes, holding pom-poms from the rally.

"What do they really look like?" I asked, but Rachel seemed too stunned to answer. My temples throbbed, the way they always did when the Mist was too strong for me to see through it properly, but not strong enough to prevent me from recognizing its' presence.

"Oh, forget her." Tammi gave me a brilliant smile and started walking toward us. Kelli stayed by the doors, blocking our exit.

I glared, rose to my feet and summoned my sword. Rachel gasped again.

"Stay back," I ordered her crisply. "You don't have training, you'll get in the way."

Tammi took another step forward, but I levelled the tip of my sword at her chest. "Get back."

She snarled. "Freshmen," she said with disgust. "This is our school, half-blood. We feed on whom we choose!"

Then she began to change. The colour drained out of her face and arms. Her skin turned as white as chalk, her eyes completely red. Her teeth grew into fangs.

"What the fuck are you?" I demanded, eyebrows shooting up. The origin of vampires, obviously. Shame I didn't have garlic. Then I noticed her legs. Below the cheerleader skirt, her left leg was brown and shaggy with a donkey's hoof. Her right leg was shaped like a human leg, but it was made of bronze. "What's with your-"

"Don't mention the legs!" Tammi snapped. "It's rude to make fun!"

She advanced on her weird, mismatched legs. She looked totally bizarre, especially with the pom-poms, but I couldn't laugh—not facing those red eyes and sharp fangs.

Kelli laughed. "We are empousai, servants of Hecate," she declared. "The legends of vampires were based on us!" She looked very proud of the fact that she had inspired Twilight.

"So you sparkle in the sunlight?" I retorted sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

Tammi glared angrily at me as she edged closer. "How dare you mention that abomination of a series!" she screeched. "We are not some pathetic undead weaklings like those created by Stephanie Meyers!

Dark magic formed us from animal, bronze, and ghost! We exist to feed on the blood of young men."

I made the mistake of meeting her eyes. For a moment, I was frozen, unable to move due to her power (godsdamnit, I hate magic. Sorry Lou.). I wriggled slightly, trying to fight off the spell but not quite able to manage it.

She bared her fangs. I thought I was a goner, but Rachel threw a snare drum at the empousa's head. Maybe I'd been a bit harsh on her when I said that she'd get in the way of the fight.

The demon hissed and batted the drum away. It went rolling along the aisles between music stands, its' springs rattling against the drumhead. Rachel threw a xylophone, but the demon just swatted that away, too.

Thankfully, the spell had broken, and I was now back in control. I was also pissed off, which everyone I knew would declare a nuclear-level problem for whoever had gotten me worked up.

I slashed with Anaklusmos. Tammi tried to dodge my blade, but I sliced straight through her cheerleader uniform, and with a horrible wail she exploded into dust all over Rachel.

Rachel coughed. She looked like she'd just had a sack of flour dumped on her head. "Gross!"

"Monsters do that," I explained. "Sorry."

"You killed my trainee!" Kelli yelled, looking infuriated. "You need a lesson in school spirit, half-blood!"

Then she too began to change. Her wiry hair turned into flickering flames. Her eyes turned red. She grew fangs. She loped toward us, her brass foot and hoof clopping unevenly on the band-room floor.

"I am a senior empousa," she growled. "No hero has managed to best me in a thousand years."

"Then you're way overdue, sweetheart," I drawled. "And btw, purple and red do not go together!" I lunged.

Kelli was a lot faster than Tammi. She dodged my first strike and rolled into the brass section, knocking over a row of trombones with a mighty crash. Rachel scrambled out of the way while I put myself between her and the empousa.

Kelli circled us, her eyes going from me to the sword. No doubt she knew about my skills with it.

"Poor dear." Kelli chuckled. "You don't even know what's happening, do you? Soon, your pretty little camp will be in flames, your friends made slaves to the Lord of Time, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. It would be merciful to end your life now, before you have to see that."

I snarled in fury at the threat. Camp Half-Blood was my home, its' residents my family. Nothing would happen to it, or them. Not while I had breath left to prevent it from happening.

From down the hall, I heard voices. A tour group was approaching. A man was saying something about locker combinations.

The empousa's eyes lit up. "Excellent! We're about to have company!"

I instantly feared she would use them as hostages. It wasn't an unknown tactic (and was often successful) when it came to fighting monsters with brains. The mortals' lack or understanding of the situation due to the Mist only ever made the situation worse.

Kelli picked up a tuba and threw it at me. Rachel and I ducked. The tuba sailed over our heads and crashed through the window.

The voices in the hall died down.

"Ana!" Kelli shouted, pretending to be scared, "why did you throw that?"

I was too busy ducking another projectile to defend myself verbally. (Not that it'd help, of course.) Kelli picked up a music stand and swiped a row of clarinets and flutes. Chairs and musical instruments crashed to the floor.

"Bitch!" I swore. I cast a despairing glance at the door, already predicting what was going to happen. After all, Hecate's defection had been revealed months ago, and she controlled the Mist. Obviously the blame for this would be placed on me, not the monster, just like it always was. Damn it.

People were tromping down the hall now, coming in our direction. Why do people always have to go towards fights?

"Time to greet our visitors!" Kelli bared her fangs and ran for the doors. I almost ran after her, then it clicked what she planned to do. As Kelli flung open the doors, I dived out the broken window, swearing violently in a mixture of Ancient Greek, Latin and English.

I landed right on top of Luke, who was waiting outside for me to finish, and ended up knocking him to the ground.

He blinked, glanced up, and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Run for it?"

"Now," I agreed hastily.

We scrambled to our feet and darted off, pausing after darting into an alleyway to deal with my cuts from the broken glass. Somehow, Rachel had managed to catch up with us, gasping desperately for breath. No doubt she had followed the trail of blood I had left behind, but her physique and style suggested she was an artist, not an athlete.

"You're the girl from Hoover Dam," Luke stated, looking confused. "What're you doing here?"

She ignored his question, focusing on me. "I want to know more about half-bloods," she insisted. "And monsters. And all of this stuff about the gods." She grabbed my arm, whipped out a permanent marker, and wrote a phone number on my hand. "You're going to call me and explain, okay? You owe me that. Now get going."

"But—"

"I'll make up some story," Rachel said. "I'll tell them it wasn't your fault. Just go!"

She ran back toward the school, leaving Luke and I in the street. We looked at each other, Luke leaning against his new motorbike (courtesy of the Hephaestus cabin as a birthday gift two months ago) that I had just noticed.

"What in the name of Tartarus did you do this time, Ariel?" he asked, a mixture of exasperation and amusement on his face.

I glared back at him. "It's all Chiron's fault for sending me here in the first place," I grumbled in answer. "Let's get outta here. I'll explain on the way home."