Okay I'm not going to lie, this has been sitting in draft form on my computer for months and I don't really remember where it was going, but yeah. It's kind of...not that great. I'll get my groove back as I pick this back up again, though, don't worry!
9/Percy
Bulls called to mind the elephant-sized creatures that had once attacked Camp Half-Blood years ago. Huge, hulking things with fire for breath and horns like knives. It also reminded him of Tyson. Percy's heart sank. The last time he'd seen his brother was the day they left camp. He'd been crying a continuous stream of tears from his one calf-brown eye and crushed Percy in a bear hug. He chased their car halfway down the road like a puppy before Grover managed to restrain him.
All those thoughts fled his mind as soon as he saw the destruction. The street looked average about halfway down the block, stopping at the obvious point where Nico had intervened. The ground had been ripped up, trees slashed into half-charred chunks, and there were hoof prints stamped into the concrete like mud. It looked like a warzone. It only made him run faster.
"Percy!"
No sooner did he hear his name than Nico crashed into him. He stumbled, righted them both, and held his cousin at arm's length. Nico was breathing hard, his clothes singed, smelling like the stark cold air of the void. If only they had time to grab armor… They had hid emergency packs around the house; breast plates in the dish cupboards, sword in the umbrella stand, drachmas in that clay tortoise by the door, wads of cash stuffed into the couch cushions. He didn't think they'd have to use them, but he should've known better.
"I pushed them back," Nico gasped. "But they're killing mine off faster than they can regenerate, and Percy, they've made improvements."
Percy's stomach clenched. He knew the bulls were recalled to Olympus and handed off to Hephaestus for safekeeping but… "What are you talking about?"
"If you're referring to their ability to breathe fire," said a gravelly voice, "then they've been able to do that for millennia."
They jumped away from each other. Standing beside them was the man in the trench coat—the one Nico called angel. He was taller alone, with crystal blue eyes and stubble shadowing his jaw. Not what you'd expect an angel to look like. Percy tried to ignore the voice of his consciousness, screaming Angels aren't real!
"No," Nico said, as though he had known the man his entire life. "We know that. I mean they don't just breathe flames—they fire them." When Percy looked at him in bewilderment Nico sighed. "As in, freaking fireballs of death? And their horns? Extendable. You get too close and wham!" He jabbed Percy in the chest. "Right through the heart."
Percy's response was stolen from him when they felt the rumbling. He uncapped Riptide. "How do we kill them?"
"Are they susceptible to heat?" the man—angel—asked. He was holding something silver and bright in his hand. Not quite a sword, but definitely a blade.
"Of course not," said Percy. He was feeling antsy. Off-kilter. The last time he was in a real fight was eleven months ago. But he couldn't think about that now. Dust and gravel and gods knew what else were flying up on the edge of the street—a preamble to what was no doubt the last thing Percy wanted to see. He looked at the other two. "Go for the heads."
Eleven months made him rusty.
The first bull he reached was missing a hoof and half its muzzle in an instant, but he was too damn slow to escape the blaze—it burned away his left sleeve and took a ferocious beating to put out. By then, the next one was upon him and he was forced to dissolve into the frenzy of battle. He was vaguely aware of Nico flanking him in the fray, a blur of black that protected his weak spots as the bulls attacked and ravaged and pillaged in a way that was completely divergent from memory. He could not see the stranger; there was no sign of the tan coat or the silver blade. So much for teamwork.
He narrowly dodged the lunge of horns and slashed down, cleaving the silver wire with a flash like holy fire. When the other one lashed out, he cut that one too. Then he drove the blade through its neck, relishing the scream of metal that followed it. He whirled to face the next one, blinded it with Riptide's point, and then shoved it in to the hilt and forced it to die.
Someone screamed his name.
He turned, half-blinded by heat and soot and stinging tears with his sword slashing through the air, only to see a bull racing towards him. Its eyes glowed red, horns leveled to rip him limb from limb. There was no time to move, no time to raise his blade, no air in his lungs for screaming. A blinding shape appeared out of nowhere—a shape in a trench coat. Heat slapped Percy in the in the face, threw him down hard on the asphalt so that his vision swam. But it was impossible to miss the sight of the ragged man slamming into the bull with all the power of a steam engine. With a groan of metal it skidded back, leaving deep gouges in the dirt. Percy sat dumbstruck as the man beheaded the monster with his bare hands.
Nico was standing far off—Percy couldn't see him. But he could hear him.
"Castiel!" his voice screamed. "Now!"
At first Percy's mind blanched. Who was Castiel? But then the supposed angel turned on his heel and brought a heavy hand down on Percy's shoulder, and Percy stopped thinking. In the span of a heartbeat, their entire surroundings had changed.
There was no sucking air of the void, no screams of the damned; Percy blinked once, and suddenly he was standing at the end of the road, far from the hellish bulls. Nico was beside him, face ashen. Percy opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, "What's happening?" But he never got the chance. All thoughts fled his mind as his cousin flung out a bleeding hand and shouted a word in Greek.
The ground rumbled, groaned, and then the entire street seemed to drop. The bulls didn't even have time to moo before they fell into an abyss as wide across as an Olympic swimming pool. The gale force of the wind alone threatened to knock Percy flat on his butt, only if his knees hadn't locked so hard in shock. He knew that smell—that was the scent of hell.
Another shouted word and shards of the street flew up to assemble themselves like a puzzle. The wind trailed off, but the smell remained. Percy turned toward Nico, astonished. His words were stolen again when Nico fell to his hands and knees, gasping.
Percy dropped down and grabbed his cousin by the elbow. He was wheezing—Percy realized it was laughter. "Did you see that?" he panted, glee in his voice.
"I didn't know you could do that," Percy said lamely.
Nico rolled onto his back. His chest was still heaving. Percy could see the veins in his neck, bright red against his gray skin. "Neither did I," he admitted. "Take that!" He showed the sky his hand—or rather, one finger. The sleeve of his jacket was drenched in blood.
Percy seized it in a panic. "Gods, Nico." There was a long gash splitting Nico's wrist, gushing profusely. It was dizzying, most likely self-inflicted. "What did you do?"
"Opened up a hole to the underworld," Nico said. "Blood spell."
The sticky sweet smell of the blood made Percy nauseous. He clutched the sleeve around Nico's arm to staunch the flow. "You need stitching up, di Angelo." If Annabeth found out about this, they wouldn't hear the end of it.
"Allow me." A calloused hand touched Nico's forehead before Percy could bat it away.
"Hey—" Percy began. He stopped when Nico's skin sealed up before his eyes. He eyed Castiel. His clothes were seared just like theirs, his hair singed. He'd need a new dress shirt. Otherwise, he was unharmed. "An angel, huh?" Percy said dubiously.
"I would prove it to you," said the man, "but we don't have the time." He looked at the sky pointedly. Percy followed his gaze. What had been blue skies before was now a ceiling of heavy gray clouds, streaked with silver veins of lightning. Thunder boomed.
"They're angry," Nico said. He struggled to his feet with Percy's help. "We need to go. Now."
Percy looked to the angel. Going to Annabeth wasn't an option. She had an amulet on her, she was safe (from the gods, at least). He wasn't so sure about the two men. Not from what Nico had said of them. This train of thought lasted about half a second, and Nico was already trilling an address. The angel laid hands on both of them, and again, their surroundings shifted.
It took him a minute to realize where he was. It was disorienting—the noise, the cars, the swarm of people. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He turned to Nico. "San Francisco? What the hell are we doing—?"
"An entire country away from Annabeth?" Nico interrupted. "Protecting her. At least now she has a chance."
It was true. They were the diversion—it would take the gods a bit to realize that she wasn't with them, and even longer to realize that they didn't have the apples. This was the best way to keep them off her back…even if it meant taking the weight upon themselves. Only… Percy groaned loudly. "The treaty."
The Treaty of San Francisco-New York had been signed around six years ago and had decreed that the lines between Greek and Roman were not to be blurred again. Romans were not permitted past the Missouri line, while Greeks weren't allowed past Wyoming. (Nevada was no-man's land, considering the lotus-eaters, but it was a technicality.) Breaking the treaty was not a good idea right now. In fact, it was probably the worst idea ever. But it dawned on Percy that confusing the gods like this was actually a good tactic—one Annabeth would have been proud of. He was just dreading the wrath part.
"This means we're in violation," Percy reminded. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation.
"Somehow," Nico said finally, "I think she'll understand."
Poor Castiel cleared his throat. He'd been so quiet, so still, that Percy had almost forgotten that he was there. "Who?" he asked in that gravelly voice of his.
It's like the Fates were beating the dead horse's skeleton at this point. Percy rubbed his tired eyes before answering in a sigh. "Reyna."
Some of you might be iffy about the inclusion of Romans, but again, ne t'impatiénte pas. I've got a plan. And they have a part to play. See you soon!
