DISCLAIMER: I do not own Percy Jackson unfortunately (◡︿◡✿)

"What- Adrian!" my face was inches from the Hispanic boy's, his brown eyes were wide and alarmed, and I shrugged my way out of his grasp, "what are you doing-?"

"You've got to see the news!" he said, his voice urgent. I was about to tell him I was busy at the moment, but upon closer inspection I realized his eyes were not only very alarmed but also rimmed red- he'd been crying. And- oh, Hades, now I remember-he'd been there with me in the Big House as I'd called my grandma- because he had called his mom too.

The Fates work in a funny, actually not-at-all-funny way. See, Adrian's from Mexico too, we arrived at Camp together in fact- his mom had stayed back. This same drug cartel that killed my grandfather- they'd shot his mother too in another random shootout fighting over territory or something (go figure.) Sadly we shared this in common- also that we were children of the gods, he's a son of Hermes.

She didn't die -thank the gods- but her hip's in bad shape, so every time I'm allowed the phone he gets a chance to call up his mom, too.

"News?" I asked, holding the iPad close to my chest and trying to hide the omega letter with my arms.

He didn't even notice, "yeah after you left I kind of stayed there, um," he sniffled, "watching the T.V over Chiron's shoulder- you know how he's been keeping a close eye for unusual things in the mortal world ever since Gaea- anyway, point is- there's live feed of Mexico right now, and get this-" he took a deep breath, "they caught them. The drug cartel- the-"

"The Mesitas?" that's what the cartel was called, or so the police had told us.

"Well, not all of it, but like 20 people or so. Maybe even one of their bosses!" he said excitedly, "maybe our families will get some justice after all."

"Will we?" my voice came out so harsh Adrian flinched." sorry, Adrian, I'm just-" I sighed "it's been a weird day."

Adrian smiled understandingly and wrapped his arm around me, "I know, it was two months ago..." he gave me a squeeze, "but you should really go see for yourself, it... um, made me feel better, kind of," he dropped his arm, seeming embarrassed.

"I will," I promised and walked over to my bunk bed, "just not right now..."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he nodded, "are you... coming for dinner, Nat?"

"Not hungry, "I turned my back on him so he couldn't see me switch on the iPad and slide the screen to unlock it, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, today's not a good day."

"...I understand," and I heard the door close behind him.

Why does Thanatos have Skype, who is he going to- ah, holy Zeus! a list of contacts in alphabetical order appeared on the screen, from Aphrodite to Zeus and a few extra ones. The gods were sure getting with the modern times. He had a chat open with Hades, and even with the god of sleep, Hypnos.

They're twin brothers smart one! the newcomer voice in my head that was my voice but not really chimed in. The same voice that had considered using the iPad for- um, how did Thanatos put it? "its main purpose."

Deciding I didn't want calls from any gods, I logged out of Thanato's Skype. So four apps remained- that escaped souls tracking thing, the death one... a safari explorer and Twitter for some reason. I decided to leave Thanato's most intimate Twitter thoughts alone, because honestly the idea of the gods tweeting anything was just flat out disturbing for me.

Might as well see who the little shits that killed grandpa are, I opened up the browser and looked up the Mesitas. Immediately very recent articles popped up, videos and pictures, too.

I double tapped on the first link and sat down on the lower bunk I shared with one of my half-sisters, placing the iPad on my lap. Soon the light from it was the only source of light in the room, besides the orange-ish light the setting sun outside provided. The soft glow illuminated my face as I read through the article.

Apparently the Mexican police broke into one of the Mesitas safe houses, finding them, weapons, drugs, and a lot of money. It was about 10 men and 5 women, but one of the men stood out from the rest. Pablo Ruiz.

He had tan skin and a thick black mustache, a few hairs on his scalp, squinty eyes, he was wearing a green Ralph Lauren shirt with his hands bound to his back and two police officers at his side. The article said this was presumably one of the leaders of the Mesitas.

For the second time that day I felt the pang of rage go through me, this ugly feeling in the pit of my stomach that spread to the rest of my body very fast- but this time it didn't go away. It lingered, as I looked article after article, all of them pointing to this man, Pablo Ruiz, the intense feeling grew stronger.

He was probably responsible for grandpa's death, a tiny voice at the edge of my mind chirped, actually the tiny voice I couldn't seem to control. I guess it's staying. Maybe for Adrian's mom, too.

I bit at my thumbnail, a temptation I hadn't felt ever crossing my mind and remaining there like the anger. Killing someone, having that kind of power.

Is this what the gods feel?

I blink, next thing I know, two bolded words are staring back at me on the screen.

NAME

CAUSE OF DEATH

And anyway why would Thanatos let me keep this? And trust me with it? Still, this Pablo man is probably going to get a bail ... that happens in Mexico, and if he's this powerful drug lord... my resolution crumbles like Octavian's dream to become praetor.

My hand is trembling as I tap the NAME box and the keyboard comes up. PABLO RUIZ.

I release a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. My hand is a little steadier, but my breathing is still hard. I'm really doing this, I'm really doing this. My eyes shift to the next box, CAUSE OF DEATH. Thanato's instructions said that if I didn't specify this man would die in 40 seconds from heart failure- and also, I had to picture the man's face, so people of the same name wouldn't be affected.

His face pops up in my mind easily- the mustache, the thick nose, the squinty eyes. I tap the home button and the app disappears, and I bring up a link I'd visited earlier about this man- they were live streaming a press conference on the safe house and I don't really even know what they were showing; my nerves were on edge with what I'd just done- or was about to do.

An imaginary clock ticking in my mind I reach to the bunk above mine where I know my sister keeps her earphones. I plug them in and settle down on my bed, the screen inches from my face as the conference continues.

They made a pyramid with all the money found in the safe house- a colorful stack of Mexican Pesos- with the drugs in plastic bags and all the rifles and guns in display for everyone to see. I've never understood why they did this, but no matter the 40 seconds were almost up.

Pablo Ruiz looks exactly like in the picture but live- breathing, scowling, bound Pablo.

5 seconds.

A man's talking in Spanish, talking about how these criminals will soon face justice.

3 seconds.

Camera flashes snap pictures relentlessly of Pablo's face, illuminating his glaring features for a couple of seconds before another round of flashes assaults him.

One.

A/N: The Mesitas aren't real, I made them up, didn't want to use a real drug cartel. In the last chapter it said "It will not affect those over 780 days old.- i meant to say "years" so gods can't be killed- sorry about that!