"How's your head?" Lance asked. He guided Piper to the kitchen, gesturing for her to sit next to the island table.

"Fine."

"Good." Lance smirked. He looked satisfied with this which puzzled her. "We don't want that pretty little head of yours messed up."

Piper frowned. Her attention was averted to the chocolate babka cooking in the oven. She inhaled sharply as the sweet scent filled her nostrils. The intoxicating aroma made her mouth water, her thoughts jizzing with impatience.

Amused, Lance cocked an eyebrow. She ignored him, took a seat on the stool and leaned forward. "Mason's an Assassin, right?"

Lance's expression turned guarded. Something flashed in his eyes. Suspicion? Guilt? Shock? She couldn't tell.

"Yeah," he replied, "why?"

"Well, why did he hit me?" Piper rubbed the side of her head to emphasize her point.

Lance pulled the sunglasses off his head and shrugged. "Dunno, maybe he panicked? You'll have to ask him."

Piper bit the insides of her cheek. There was no reason why Mason should have attacked her. Then again, he was an Assassin. And admittedly, albeit reluctantly, so was she. Perhaps, he acted on impulse?

"Banana?" Lance held up said banana, his lazy smirk returning. Piper couldn't believe him. A few minutes ago he threatened to kill her and now he was offering her food like they were at a picnic.

"No thanks." Piper shifted on the stool. She was in no mood for fruits, her stomach clenching as she caught a whiff of the babka being prepared.

Lance shrugged, peeled the banana, and chewed on it. He took the seat across from her, his back to the oven where the babka began to harden. "Okay," Lance said, his mouth still full, "Where to begin?"

Not wanting to waste any time, Piper asked the first question that bothered her since yesterday. "My dad, was he an Assassin?"

"Of course," he answered in a heartbeat. Piper felt like someone had punched her in the gut. Lance noticed her expression and quickly added, "He knew of it since he was a kid but he never trained in the camp or anything. Your grandpa didn't want that."

This little piece of information didn't help subdue the sick feeling bubbling in her stomach.

Piper gulped. "What camp?"

"There are—" Lance stopped himself, the look on his face losing its frivolous luster and turning somber. "there were hundreds of Assassin camps set up around the globe. It's like Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter; they prepare us with what we need to know to protect ourselves." He stopped to take a bite out of his banana, his fingers drumming against the marble table. "But ever since Daniel Cross revealed the location of almost every camp, it forced us into hiding."

A silence pervaded amongst the two. Lance had only began explaining about the Assassins but absorbing this information was already taking a toll on her.

The predicament she found herself in reminded her of the time when her dad left her at school. Piper was six; carefree, young, with no worries about the future. It was raining. The school bell rang and kids poured out the front entrance. Piper ran out, umbrella in her hand and a bookbag full of homework. She looked around for her dad, only finding a sea of unfamiliar faces. The area cleared and pretty soon, she stood alone, in the rain, a burden on her back with no one to turn to for help.

She found it odd that after so many years that memory was still vivid. Sometimes, she could still feel the heavy straps of the bookbag on her shoulders, the rain drumming on her umbrella. That was how she felt right now. Alone, lost, and helpless.

First, Jason abandoned her, then her dad died in a car accident. Afterwards, Jason chose not to show up at her hospital bed just to see if she was fine, and now Piper was left to deal with this.

Can't turn back now.

Piper reached up to where the slick wood of the carved thunderbird brushed her collarbone. "My great grandma, Aribelle…"

"She was an Assassin, too." Lance affirmed.

Feeling content, she asked, "Okay, so who's Connor Kenway?"

Lance gave her a you've-got-to-kidding-me look. "Your the descendant of one of the greatest Assassins and you're asking me who he is?"

Piper felt her cheeks flush in embarassment. "Well, if you would enlighten me on why he's one of the greatest Assassins, I'd understand."

"Shucks, 'course." Completely unfazed, he took another bite of his banana. "In 1763, the Assassins meant to protect the Thirteen Colonies fell apart. They were captured, tortured, and killed by Templars." He shook his head indignantly. "However, the Templars left the Mentor, Achilles Davenport, alive. Don't know why, though, it's a noob move when you think about it."

"A what move?"

Lance waved her off. "Achilles Davenport trained your ancestor, Ratonhnhaké:ton, or Connor as he was mostly known. Connor rebuild the Brotherhood, and single-handedly assassinated the Templars responsible." His expression was stoic but Piper could hear the sheer admiration seeping in his tone.

Lance smiled, his eyes twinkling. "So, you can imagine how important your lineage is."

From the way that Lance summed up Connor's life, Piper didn't feel important. She felt lost and broken and tired...and hungry.

"What is a Templar?" she asked, pushing aside her thoughts.

Lance looked like he just aged an extra ten years. "Our sworn enemies. We've been fighting them for centuries. They're basically our arch nemesis; kill on sight, do not trust, all that cheese."

Piper knit her eyebrows. She couldn't help but think, This kid was the son of Minerva?

"Recently, the Templars created this company called Abstergo," he told her. "They use that facility to house kidnapped Assassins and uncover artifacts from the First Civilization."

"The First Civilization?"

Lance sighed, and muttered something about too much explaining under his breath. "Those Who Came Before, or the Precursors. They…created us."

"What do you mean us? As in humans?" Lance nodded. "But didn't the gods create us?"

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's very conflicting, I know. We live in a world with Greek/Roman gods and then we got Those Who Came Before who are considered as gods. Oh, and get this: the three known representatives of the First Civ are named Juno, Minerva, and Jupiter."

Piper's jaw dropped so low she was afraid it would plummet to the floor.

"Hey, close your mouth." Lance instructed, throwing his banana peel in the garbage. "Don't want any flies straying into your mouth."

When Piper found her voice, she asked, "They couldn't be the Roman gods, could they?"

Lance shrugged. "We have every reason to think that they are, but Sophia said that we shouldn't assume without some hard evidence."

Piper tapped her finger on the table, her eyes glazing over the babka in the oven. "If the First Civilization came before us, do you think that they created the gods?" She asked, genuinely curious. "Or is it the other way around?"

"I don't know. No one does."

His tone made it clear. Drop it.

For a kid, he sure seemed intimidating. This troubled Piper to the point that she considered whether he was even a child to begin with.

Her mouth opened to ask the next question when a ring from the oven resounded.

"Oh, goodie." Lance said, rubbing his palms together. "It's done. Grab two plates. We're gonna eat downstairs."

Piper didn't want to go downstairs. Her gut feeling sent tremors down her spine, warning her that this was a trap. Part of her still believed that Lance would turn on her and pull out a knife. The other, and more rational, part argued that he wouldn't. She would fight back if he did; try to talk things out, but she had little faith that she would succeed. She didn't know what he was capable of and she knew better than to underestimate.

Besides, she was weaponless, hungry, and she didn't have the slightest clue as to where she was. Forget about running. A turtle could have walked faster than her.

Nonetheless, she followed Lance down the white carpeted staircase. Two plastic plates in her hand with a pair of table knives and forks in the other. In front of her, Lance held the babka up to his face, inhaling the sweet scent.

As they reached the bottom, Lance flicked the light switch. Piper's eyes adjusted to the brightness and she was welcomed by a large room. It reminded her of the aircraft carrier in that movie, The Avengers.

An impressive set of display of screen monitors, stainless steel desks, and row of computers were aligned. To her right was a view of the forest and a sliding door that led outside. A small conference table with three seats was set up in the middle of the room. The wall was decorated with bulletin boards full of maps and photos. One map had red pins embedded in certain areas all over the globe with yellow sticky notes scribbled with someone's messy handwriting.

But the thing that stood out the most was a white flag with the Assassin insignia pinned on the wall.

Piper didn't know whether to be impressed or mortified. Even after her quest for saving the world, there were still some things that managed to surprise her.

"Welcome, Piper, to our base of operation." Lance proclaimed. He led her to a table empty of any documents or books, and set down the babka.

"So," Lance said, bringing up two chairs. "Have you ever seen strange things?"

Piper resisted the urge to roll her eyes and demand that he be more specific. Being a demigod meant that you witnessed strange things everyday. Instead, she began cutting a piece of the babka, placing it on her plate and taking a big bite out of it with her fork. Much to her delight, the sweet treat satiated her tastebuds and she felt a smile creep onto her lips.

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like where everything's a darkish blue?"

She blinked. Her blue vision… Is that what he's talking about that?

Piper swallowed. "Yes. Just recently."

Lance nodded. "That's called Eagle Vision, sometimes White Eye. Their a gift from the First Civ."

"What does it do exactly?"

"It's a sixth sense. It helps us distinguish friend from foe. Sometimes it lets us locate our target and hidden objects that people wouldn't normally see. Every human has the potential for it, but the bloodline of those who had interbred with the creators hold a greater concentration, and they're more likely to exhibit the ability."

Piper understood only half of what he said. Sitting next to him, she couldn't help but feel stupid.

"When you discovered the hidden room in your dad's office…" Lance prompted, "You used Eagle Vision, didn't you?"

Startled, Piper choked on the piece of babka. Lance patted her back, rubbing in circles before patting her again.

"You good?"

Piper nodded. "I'm sorry for ever doubting you."

Lance just gave her a cheeky smile. However, in an instant, his grin disappeared. "Anyway, there are a couple things you need to know about the Order and how we operate."

Piper hesitated. "Yeah, about that. Do I have to kill anybody?"

Lance laughed. "If you asked that back then, they would have kicked you out." He shook his head. "But this is the twenty-first century, we're not gonna go running around and kill everybody we see. Times has passed; things have changed. You could say that we no longer think like our brothers before us."

Feeling somewhat relieved, she nodded.

"But," he added seriously, "we have yet to resolve our differences with the Templars. So, it leaves us with the choice of either assassinating them, or talking it out." He looked at her with grim hope. "The latter which we haven't become accustomed to."

Piper stabbed her fork into the babka and stuffed it in her mouth. "I'm confused. Why are the Templars against the Assassins?"

"It's the way we function," Lance explained. "Our Order strives to maintain peace. The Templars want to create a 'perfect world' using order and control."

Piper frowned. "Like world domination?"

"I wouldn't really describe it like that. More like communism."

"But I don't understand. Hasn't anyone stopped to think about putting aside their differences? Why can't we work together instead of against each other?"

Lance gave her a sad smile. "Connor thought the same way, too, with his dad."

Piper's brow furrowed. "What do you mean his dad?"

"Connor's dad, Haytham; he was a Templar."

Piper felt her eyes bulge out of its sockets.

"Well, according to what we've researched, Haytham was actually an Assassin-turned-Templar," Lance mused, fiddling with his fork. He hadn't touched the babka, though she couldn't blame him. This talk about Assassins made her lose her appetite.

"That can happen?" Piper asked quietly. "Assassins switching sides?"

Lance looked up. "Oh yeah, all the time. Templars can come over to our side, too. Sometimes, they work for both…"

Piper didn't want to pry into what he was indicating but there was definitely some history behind what he was hinting at. She made a mental note to ask about it later.

She decided to change the subject. "So, I'm guessing there are rules."

"And you guessed right." Lance cleared his throat and held up a finger. "First tenet: stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent," he recited. She briefly wondered if he had to repeat this to himself numerous times. "It just means don't kill any citizens."

Piper couldn't agree more.

"Second: hide in plain sight, be one with the crowd. Pretty self-explanatory.

"And lastly: never compromise the Brotherhood."

As he said the last tenet, he looked askance at her as if he expected her to protest. Piper squirmed under his gaze, feeling like she was being examined under a microscope.

"Why would we need to hide in plain sight?" Piper queried.

"Part of the training. Assassins mostly used stealth. It's considered our greatest weapon, and we have to devote ourself to mastering it. Back then, when it was normal to carry weapons, Assassins would sneak up on a guard and knife them on the spot before slipping into the crowd."

"That's crazy."

Lance snorted. "You want to hear something that's real crazy? Around the 12th Century, every member of the Brotherhood had to cut off their right ring finger."

A grotesque image of a disfigured finger appeared in Piper's mind. She shivered at the unpleasant picture. "Why?" She asked.

Lance's lips curled into a devilish grin. He held out his hand, jerked his arm and out of his sleeve popped a knife.

Piper covered her mouth, swallowing back the scream that climbed up her throat.

"This is why." Lance informed, reveling in her frightened posture. The blade was thin but sharp and long, reflecting dangerously against the light. "Their technology wasn't advanced, so the Hidden Blade went through the ring finger when they used it. It's been modified centuries ago, so no cutting any fingers." He promised. He retracted the blade which made a ktch sound.

She didn't know how to react to that. It shouldn't have surprised her, though. The legion didn't hesitate when they engaged with the enemy. Lance was a Roman demigod but he was only a kid. A kid running around with a knife up his sleeve.

Piper couldn't help but stare at his arm. "Do I have to use one of those?"

Lance narrowed his eyes. "Only if you want to. There are nonviolent Assassins who only attack when threatened. You could carry one just in case."

Piper felt uncomfortable about the subject. She couldn't imagine herself carrying a Hidden Blade; poised and ready to assassinate. It made her feel like she was part of the Mafia.

"You said something about training for the Feast of Lupercal," Piper mentioned, her gaze falling to her lap. "What's happening on that day?"

"Abstergo plans to invade Camp Jupiter."

For a second, Piper thought Lance developed a female voice but it was too real, and harsh, to be mimicked.

Turning around, she found a woman standing not too far behind Piper. She immediately felt fear coil up her body. The woman's dark brown hair was pulled back by a clip and she had a ring piercing over her right eyebrow. Somehow, she managed to look like a professional businesswoman and one of those action heroines in the movies.

There was something unnerving about her. Maybe it was her eyes that glinted a cold gray blue, or the menacing aura that surrounded her, or the disapproving frown that graced her nude lips.

Or, Piper thought, her heart beating at an erratic pace, maybe it was because there was fresh blood on her shirt.

Mason appeared at the stairs, winded and completely out of breath. He, too, had blood splattered on his clothes. His face was smeared with crimson mixed with dirt and a stray leaf was stuck to his shirt.

"We need to get out of here," he announced.

"Sophia?" Lance said, his eyes gleaming with concern.

"Lance," the woman, Sophia, said, maintaining her impassive mask. "Pack whatever we need. Don't bring anything heavy."

Lance hesitated. "They found us?" Sophia's jaw tightened. Slowly, she nodded.

Quickly recovering, Piper couldn't help but ask, "Who's they?"

The older woman scowled at her. "And you," she said, addressing Piper like she was a servant. "better contribute. Everyone, no dawdling. Let's move."

Piper's mouth hung open. Dumbstruck by what just happened, Mason instructed her to grab a garbage bag from upstairs.

"Mason," Piper whispered, knowing that he would be more helpful, "what's going on?"

There was a brief pause before he answered, "Did Lance tell you about the Templars?"

Piper nodded.

"Well, they found our location," he explained. "Sophia and I killed—"

Suddenly Piper felt sick.

"—the agents following us but they already called for backup. We have to leave now. Like right now."

Maybe Piper was still grasping the concept of this whole Assassin gig but she could sense danger. She jogged upstairs and grabbed a plastic garbage bag from the kitchen and went back down. Sophia briskly walked by, not sparing her a glance.

Piper stood by Mason, helping him shove documents, folders, notepads, and leather bound books in the garbage bag. A boy with dark skin ran into the room and started taking down the maps on the wall and rolling them up in tube-like cases. Lance was busying himself with the computers, skimming through what looked like research and top secret files and transfering them to his Mickey Mouse flash drive before deleting them and moving on to the next computer.

"Piper," Mason said anxiously. He opened one of the drawers from a desk, found a key, and handed it to her. "Go inside that closet and give me the box."

Piper wanted to ask what box, figuring that there may be more than one but Mason was already moving towards the stairs to grab another plastic bag. Piper sprinted over to the closet, almost tripping on a wire, and unlocked the door.

She was glad she didn't ask what box he was asking because there was only one to begin with. It stood there, on the carpet floor, making her wonder what was inside. Her first instinct was to grab it and run but as she jogged forward, she felt it. A strange tugging sensation hit her so hard that she halted in her movements. Whatever that was making her feel this way, it was no doubt that it was coming from the white box.

Piper caught her breath, the hustling of Lance and the other boy seemed distant now. A stream of light filtered in, wrapping her in the dark closet. She knelt down and gingerly lifted the cover.

What lay inside was beyond anything Piper could imagine. It was some sort of sphere, about the size of a football. A glowing brilliant gold illuminated from it, seeping from the intricate designs curved around the ball. She reached out to grab it and immediately, Piper felt power. She felt like she held the world in the palm of her hands.

The back of her neck tingled. A wave of chills ran down her spine. She gazed into the sphere, hypnotized by the essence emitting from the object.

The feeling diminished just as a hand clasped onto her shoulder and snatched the sphere away from her.

Startled, Piper looked around as if she just woke up from a dream. Mason placed the glowing sphere back into the box, simultaneously lifting her off the floor. He dragged her back to the basement, similar to how an adult would hold a child's ear when they were caught doing something they weren't supposed to do.

"Mason… what is that?"

"I'll explain later," he said curtly.

"Mason," Piper said, allowing charmspeak to flow into her words. "What is that?"

Mason paused, clearly tranced by her charmspeak. "It's…" His chest heaved and his mouth blew out air. He blinked multiple times and shook his head. "Piper, not now. I promise I'll explain."

Piper couldn't believe it. Almost no one—besides, gods—could fight against her charmspeak. He must have a strong will, she thought dejectedly.

Mason turned to the dark skinned boy who was carrying a shipping box. If Piper didn't know any better, she would have thought they were moving out like any regular mortal.

"Mason," the boy said. His eyes were a strange reddish brown color and the left side of his cheek had a small cut. He had no shirt, just a denim vest showing off his flat belly. His arms were ripped though, and his legs were tanned and muscled. "Where do I put these?" he asked.

"I need you and Julian to pack these boxes in the van, and bring them to our other hideout," Mason told him calmly. "Take Lance with you."

From where he stood, Lance's head snapped up. He was taking down the Assassin flag from the wall, folding it perfectly and storing it in his backpack.

"What?" he asked incredulously. He scratched his ear as if he thought he didn't hear Mason right.

"Go with them," Mason ordered.

"What about you guys?"

The expression that crossed Lance's face was a mix between worry and shock. One thing Piper was certain about Lance, he wouldn't leave a man behind.

Mason, having forgot Piper, turned to the dark skinned boy. "Roberto, take Lance with you. We'll meet you there."

Roberto was reluctant to leave. Piper could see that he wanted to argue. That he wanted to say, No! Come with us! She would have done the same, even if she barely knew these people.

When Roberto and Lance were out of earshot, Piper asked, "Why can't we go with them?"

Mason didn't meet her eyes. "Our work is more important. Besides, never compromise the Brotherhood."

So you're gonna make me go down with you? Piper thought. It was selfish to think like that but as she reflected on his words, the dedication he put in for the Order wasnadmiring.

Mason turned to her. "Here." He handed her a folded white sweater, runnings shoes along with some sort of cylinder black object that was as wide as her arm. "Put these on."

Mason picked up the white box, his hand on top of the cover. His green eyes fixed on her as if he expected Piper to rob a bank.

She scowled. Was it a crime to be curious about such things? Whatever that sphere was it must have been valuable enough to be locked in a closet.

Piper sighed, and turned the black object that Mason gave her in her hands. Her eyes widened as she realized that it was a Hidden Blade. Immediately, her stomach did flip-flops, twisting and winding until she felt the urge to throw up.

Fortunately, she didn't embarrass herself by puking. The Templars could arrive in any minute, and she couldn't afford to be sick right now.

She looked down at the weapon that was presented to her. Lance's words ringed in her ears. You could carry one just in case.

Hesitantly, she strapped the Hidden Blade to her right arm and tied the shoes on which were a little big but she didn't complain. She examined her arm and was impressed to see that the weapon was concealed behind the fabric of her sleeve.

Without warning, the sound of gunfire ripped through the air. Shouts of men followed, doors were being kicked down and heavy footsteps pounded from above.

Never in my life have I dealt with something like this, Piper thought, the insides of her body running cold. Fighting monsters, facing revengeful titans, encountering crazy gods, and almost drowning were life-threatening situations that she had grown used to. She expected it.

But this… this was something she didn't know firsthand.

Sophia came crashing down the stairs. She didn't look harmed but the wild look in their eyes were enough to convey what she feared.

"Go!" She yelled, pushing Piper toward the sliding door. Naturally, Piper broke the glass, and found herself hitting hard cement.

If she had a choice, she'd curl into a ball and lie there but the sound of bullets echoing through the house convinced her to get back on her feet and start running.

Piper wasn't the best runner but when it involved her life, or Jason's, (she tried to stick that thought down the drain) she could run for miles and not even know it. Trees passed her, they were nothing but a blur. Small sticks wacked her in the face but she didn't stop. Her feet pounded against the ground in long, heavy strides. A fallen tree hindered her path but she swiftly jumped over it and continued running.

Where she was going, she had no idea.

She considered turning back to help Mason and Sophia but relented. What good would she do? They were trained Assassins who probably spent their entire life practicing. If those two couldn't shake off the Templars, what chance did Piper have?

And what about Lance? Did he get out in time? Is he being tailed? She only met him but he was a kid. Kids needed protection.

She didn't stop sprinting, not even when she heard the deafening sound of a detonation setting off. The house was far behind but she felt the heat of the explosion. Piper prayed that Mason and Sophia got out in time.

Her trek to nowhere dragged on. Her lungs burned, the sun glared down at her in agonizing hot rays of light. Sweat coated her back, making her clothes stick to her skin like glue. Adrenaline coursed through her, forcing her to keep moving against the protest of her aching body.

Slowing down to a jog, her legs gave way and she collapsed. She leaned against the nearest tree, taking deep breaths. She slid down, her bottom hitting the ground. The air smelled of… well, like the forest. Musky and full of scent-markings. She hoped there weren't any bears in the vicinity. She had enough to deal with.

As her heavy breathing subsided, Piper strained her ears, listening for anyone. She wrapped herself in a fetal position, hoping that the trees would camouflage her. The white sweater didn't help. She stuck out like a sore thumb.

How long had it been since she sat there? It felt like hours but the dull chirping of cicadas would have proven her wrong.

Her body quivered. What was wrong with her? She faced monsters, battled with gods, and even went head-to-head with a giant. This should have been nothing.

But it wasn't. Truth was, she was scared. Her life balanced on the fine line between death and life, but the imminent promise of suffering the wrath of the Templars frightened her. She didn't know how they operated but she imagined a group of people, huddling around her as they asked her questions while electrocuting her. There were some things that were worse than death.

The rustling of leaves interrupted the serene ambiance of the forest. Piper quietly sucked in some air, pulled the hood over her face and bit her bottom lip. The steps were closer now, coming from her left.

Please be a bear, Piper thought.

Feeling her stomach fill with dread, she jerked her arm and the Hidden Blade popped out. A layer of sweat covered her forehead, her heart palpitating. It's what anyone would do to survive.

Slowly, she rose from her crouched position. Her heart hammered loudly against her chest, the beat setting Piper on overdrive. She clenched her fist, took a deep breath and jumped out of her hiding spot to engage the enemy.

Piper wanted to cry out in relief. There was no one. But the tingling in the back of her neck caused her to search her surroundings.

The padding of something stirred up once again. Piper froze.

Brownie emerged from a bush, trotting over to Piper with his tongue sticking out. The russet colored Shiba Inu panted and looked up at Piper excitedly as if to say, Where's my treat? Piper felt her defenses falter, the tension in her shoulders lessening to a small degree. She knelt down, and scratched Brownie behind his ears.

Attached to his collar—when did he get one?—a brown pouch hung loosely. Piper squinted her eyes, and much to her surprise, an Assassin symbol was strewn onto it.

Mason.

Before Piper had time to confiscate the pouch, something large and heavy crashed into her.

Several things happened at once. Brownie barked. The earsplitting sound of a bullet went off. A scream escaped from Piper while blood stained her face.

The California afternoon sharpened Piper's senses. The world turned red just as the pistol pressed against the side of her head.

AN: Special thanks to pjato-lover, and Savvy the Hunter of Artemis for reviewing. And thank you, CarryOnMyWaywardSonKansas for following.

I love the fact that you guys are favoriting and following. But the lack of reviews kind of leaves me unmotivated. Makes me wonder if all my efforts are being wasted.

So, since this is a Piper fic and all, does it seem right that she and Jason get back together? Yeah, he was a jerk for ignoring Piper but does anybody see that they still have a future? Or should Piper just forget about him? Tell me what you guys think.

Review please! Criticisms are welcome! And see you guys next time! =D