Luke rolled over groping for his phone on his nightstand desperate to stop its shrill ringing. His drowsy fingers found literally everything except the phone. Finally, he managed to grab hold of it and slid his finger across the screen, answering with a sigh.
"Waz' up DA?" he asked groggily.
"What do you think, idiot?" the girl on the other end shot back. "And, don't call me DA!"
"You need something. Desperately." Luke answered sitting up slowly, wiping the sleep from his eyes, ignoring her outburst.
"Of course, do I ever risk calling for anything else!" the girl replied obviously irritated at Luke's slowness. "I swear! Sometimes I doubt we're even related."
"Yeah, well, we are." Luke snapped back. "Do you want me to do you a favor or not?"
"Yes, I need you to bring a small group in." At this the last remnants of his stupor melted away and he stiffened nearly crushing the phone, causing himself to give a slight squeak of pain as it dug into his palm.
"You want me to come back?" he asked glaring at the phone as if the girl could see him over the thousands of miles separating them.
"There's no need for you to even set foot on the grounds, just get them to the border and we'll take them from there." she reassured. Luke knew better though; things could never go that smoothly when half-bloods were concerned.
"How many in this small group?" Luke questioned bracing himself for the answer.
"Just six." the girl answered sheepishly.
"And if I do this I won't have to cross the border?"
"Not if you don't want to." she affirmed. "So you'll do it?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Great! We need them here by summer solstice. K?"
"Wha-"
"I'll send you their info." She cut him off talking rapidly. "Byeee!" and she was gone with a click.
Luke stared at the phone as if it was a snake that had just bitten him. He desperately wanted to call back and yell at the girl but, he knew he couldn't risk it after such a long one. Even the extensive celestial bronze shielding he had put up could only offer so much protection to two half-bloods talking over such long distances.
He swung himself off of his bed and grabbed some clothes on his way to the bathroom. After an inordinately long shower, and a quick pat dry, he wrapped his towel around his waist.
"Better use the glamor." he said with a deep sigh, pulling a necklace with a golden key charm from one of the drawers and fastening it around his neck.
He watched as his reflection slowly changed. First, his short strawberry blond, nearly auburn, hair lost its red tinge and became a sandy blonde mop. His skin followed shifting from a "Mexican", thank you, idiot seventh grade friends, bronze to a more natural "white guy" tan. His eyes, which normally ran the gamut from intelligent blue to stormy gray based on his moods, settled to a soft blue. Last to go were his tattoos, first, the hammer, an old Norse glyph looking more like a shovel with curly-cues than any hammer he had ever seen, covering his left rib cage. Then, the stylized line design of a lion covering his left shoulder. Finally, the tattoo on his right forearm, a lyre with a small owl perched atop it above the letters SPQR and a half a dozen lines resembling a barcode, rippled and disappeared.
As soon as he had pulled on his clothes his phone buzzed and the triangle on the back lit up. Flipping it over he found a list of the names and locations of the six half-bloods. Glancing through the list he realized that not one of them had been claimed by their divine parent, even though almost all of them were above the age required by the Olympians' pact with Jackson.
Sliding his phone into his back pocket he turned to gather the supplies he would need for the quest. He retrieved went to his closet and retrieved his bow and arrows, checked the small stock of specialty arrows his quiver couldn't magically produce, touched the center of the silver antler like limbs to the golden swan clasp on his quiver, and slipped the gold and silver band bracelet that formed onto his wrist. He grabbed the Celtic knot belt buckle that transformed into a silver waister and shield and secured it around his waist. Lastly, he shoved a couple of daggers and some nectar and ambrosia into a backpack with a few changes of clothes and some.
Once he completed his preparations he turned around to see five cats, waiting patiently in row, looking very expectant.
"You think you're coming, do you?" he said pointedly. The Tortoiseshell mewed as if the question was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.
"Oh, is that so?" Luke answered "Well, if that's how you're going to be, I could just leave you locked in here." This earned him a look that gave him the definite impression that their evaluation of his intelligence had sunk even lower.
"Whatever!" he sighed "But, I swear, if you cause trouble, like last time, I will turn the lot of you into fur coats. Understand." The group gave him such a pitiful look that he nearly felt sorry for the little demons.
He turned to the door once again, resting a heavy and on the doorknob and taking a steadying breath, and slowly opened it. "Let's go save some half-bloods."