one. secrets
"Good evening, Percy," says Rachel Dare cordially, although she throws her handbag onto the couch as well as her jacket when she walks through the door. "I've been promoted, you know," she whispers as he suckles her neck. "Head Gamemaker."
"Very nice," Percy answers, doesn't mean it. Her hair's blood-red in the lighting, he closes his eyes and thinks of all the children whom she will help kill.
"You know," she moans, "I love twelve 'o clock. Funny hour, midnight. Oh, and I heard our dear president poisoned Oceanus—I don't believe it for a second. Do you?"
"No, never."
