hey guys. Wazzup? Three thousand words in this chapter, just cause I'm almost OCD. And I'm shooting for twenty five thousand. Love you Sethykins!

Anyway... yay luverss

Flashback of last chapter...

"Yeah, it doesn't sound like something easily forgotten," says a familiar voice. My head flies up and I come face to face with a girl I was sure was a woodland animal or dancing in the Underworld. O Zeu alloi theoi, I curse. Di immortales.

"Hey, Kim!" Emily says cheerily, grabbing the dress to show the girl, but our eyes are glued on each other's lovely features.

"Kim?" My eyes widen, "I thought you were dead!"

Kim Connweller has the same reaction. "Alex!"

I set my eyes on the dark-haired girl with the bronze skin, and all I can think is 'Ghosts are usually pale, right?'

I gape at the girl. She stares back, a guttural noise coming from the back of her throat, like I'm some chore she forgot about doing and it's coming back to bite her in the behind. Her mouth opens and closes like a Poseidon-worshipper (AKA fishies) but my jaw stays level to the hardwood floors. (Do I mention what floors look like often or what? It's like every other thought!)

This is a girl that I expected to be granted a position in the Fields of Punishment, unless Hades was feeling particularly generous and hateful to Artemis that day (in which case she has equal chances for Tartarus and Elysium). How I did not expect to see her again: living and breathing, at some werewolf pack house in the middle of gods-damn Washington, I might add! Also, I considered her a dead girl that I have grown a grudging respect for. After all, she was/is the one "immortal-virgin-girl" who finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel and broke her vows to the prude goddess. I choke on my spit.

My stomach pulls a 'Flappy Bird' and I'm sure I look queasy, 'cause Emily flashes Kim a withering look.

"What did you do to her? Murder her in another life?" she hisses to Kim Connweller. I almost laugh, hysterically, not at the funniness of her statement but rather the irony that I, in fact, am the one sure I killed her. Kim shakes her head in response.

"I thought you were dead!" I declare. I blink several times to be sure I'm not still hallucinating from the monster venom a few weeks back. I inconspicuously pinch my arm, to be positive. "Ow!" I hiss, muffled by my own mouth.

I hear noises from downstairs. "Is she okay?" Paul's voice yells.

"She's fine," calls Kim, "Just an accident."

Emily burrows her face in her arms, chanting, "And I thought my life had drama before this? I didn't know what drama was! This is like a soap opera. Steal your cousins boyfriend? Psh, that's nothing in this soap!"

I bite my lip to keep from laughing, but stay on guard with Kim, the ex-hunter. I guess I should explain how we got involved. It's a long story. Kim is a daughter of Athena, the almighty wise goddess of creep gray birds, and she was running for her life and Boom! Met Artemis and her group of animal-murdering prudes. She joined that weird virgin group, and they went to camp. We all have a bead on our necklaces featuring seven burning cabins. Some campers have even been cursed to get a first-degree burn whenever they touch it! Anyway, when the Aphrodite cabin was aflame, it was the only cabin that wasn't the hunter's fault, and Kimmy here helped me out. She wasn't prejudiced about me being a daughter of the love goddess, and I was too traumatized to repeat the droning chant of my cabin mates. 'I'll show you love is worthless!' and all that jazz isn't exactly your main priority when you're screaming in pain that you almost got killed by Greek fireworks (the type featuring that green 'never go out' type of flame). After, when the hunters were leaving, I hexed her so she would find her true love one day. A few years later, I heard that she broke her vows to Artemis and hadn't been heard from since.

Naturally, I assumed she was rotting in Hades, and not living with a pack of wolves. That's generally what happens when you piss off a god. Goddesses are especially vengeful when scorned. Percy Jackson is still the only demigod I know of to beat a god- much less two! And several Titans, all on his lonesome (pretty much).

Also, I whisper, "I thought I was the reason you died, Kim. Because of my curse, or blessing, depending on how you think about it."

She gives me a slight smile. "No, I was just kicked out because of my choice. I did not die-"

"Obviously," I cut in, but she continues.

"-but how was it your fault? What curse?" Kim asks. Her brown hair moves over her shoulder naturally as she swings her head to face me more. I run my eyes down her still healthy body. She doesn't look cursed by the psycho virgin moon goddess, but she still seems to have that natural silver aura around her. Protecting her. I inhale her natural woodsy scent mixed with the musk of Jared and smell of her strong strawberry shampoo. I don't allow myself to admit there were some advantages to joining the Hunters- my heritage didn't let me, and I am still miffed about being smited by them on their last visit to camp but subconsciously...

I mentally write it off for having an obsession of being beautiful.

I bite my lip in nervousness this time. "I used my powers to ensure you met someone you couldn't resist, so you would leave the little virgin cult."

She lets out a belly laugh. "Ha! Little virgin cult? How many offensive names do you have for the Hunters?"

I mentally list a few, as I eye her bronze skin jealously. Damn! Okay, there's LVC, the virgin club, the prude group, the little love-me-nots… okay, that one sucked. Man-killers, the reason modern guys don't like the woods… "26, but most of them suck."

"I'm sorry you felt responsible," she adds, seeing me still wincing in foresight of a vicious attack, "but I'm happy with Jared. So thank you."

I choke. "You're dating Jared?" My voice changes into the girl-talk higher-pitched form of the gum-chewing popular girls everyone hates. Maybe she'll get a happy ending at last! My personality, however, does not match up with any stereotype. There's not really a slot for a beautiful, sarcastic, cynical, critically analytical, hopelessly romantic, smart, monster-slaying enthusiast.

Her cheeks redden shyly. "Yeah…."

I subconsciously 'awwwww' and verbally transmit my thoughts to our conversation. She's like a tomato. A gorgeous, bronze-skinned, red-cheeked, shy tomato.

Eh, seems legit.

The apocalypse will begin in La Push, Washington. That's not an opinion, it is a fact. It is not very well-known but more deserving of the Nobel Prize than the invention of a lightbulb. After two days here, I can safely say that Transylvania has less monster attacks.

My chest heaves and my heart beats so hard it just might burst out of my chest. Dear Prometheus, now might not be the best time to ask- considering your predicament. Being pecked to death by birds is never fun. Especially when your organs grow back each day, so you can't properly die. However, do you make ribcages in larger sizes? Preferably XXX, just in case.

After breakfast, which included a fiasco involving muffins, a dare involving shooting muffins off someone's head, and explaining how Kimmy-bear and I know each other, we all faced near death at twelve-thirty. A pack of Hellhounds found it's way here and tried to attack us.

I'm currently hiding under a table.

The kitchen-table-squad consists of the imprints (another word for soul mates to these weirdo wolverines). Kim, Emily, and me. Percy's out their fighting like a good boy. Paul forced me to relinquish my weapons so the pack could protect us. I put up a good fight, but am sadly now tightly fastened to a table leg with rope. This is so kinky. Kim, somehow forgot how to defend herself, because she doesn't have any qualms against hanging with the dusty spiders under a damn table!

And to think she's a daughter of Athena. I thought with the whole Arachne fiasco….

Truthfully, I think Kim just wants to play the damsel in distress to get back on Jared-o's good side after lying to him about who she was for a few years. Thankfully, Hellhounds aren't the smartest of monsters. They would eventually realize we are under the table, but it would take them awhile.

I dodge their snapping, venomous fangs as best I can. "Good doggy," I whisper inaudibly. Remember, this isn't Mrs. O'Leary, that cute doggy that's sometimes in the practice area with Percy and, a long time ago, Beckendorf, ex-Silena's ex-beau. I almost tear up at the thought of my dead sister and her equally dead boyfriend, but I remember crying is a choking hazard.

Don't children to anything that's good for their health?

To Kim, I hiss, "Untie me!" She shakes her head, and Emily uses a sharp kitchen knife. I only have time to be thankful for a second before the monster catches a glimpse of the glint against the silvery steel knife. O Zeus, is all I have time to think, before the table gets knocked off us and against the room.

I glare at Kim childishly just a two more huge dogs burst into the kitchen from the porch. The food room is in shreds- curtains bitten, rugs in little cutlets, claws against the precious countertops that I could just feel pregnant Emily mentally whimpering about.

Black and silver, I notice, and they don't look like Hellhounds. I feel for my weapon before cursing the silver wolf for disarming me. I back up, with my hands in front of me, snatching another meat knife off the scratched granite island top.

The Hellhound lunges at Kim, and I plunge the steel knife into its body. No kill. Zeus, it is really hard killing monsters without celestial metals, but it's possible. You just have to be a pro or have a being up there determined for you to live.

Not many of us have that luck- and Percy Jackson has the opposite.

It twists and writhes in agony, and I rip the knife from its body just as the silver wolf flies onto the bigger dog; its sharp teeth digging into the pets of Hades. The ebony wolf nips at the Hellhound's back, while the silvery one gnawed its neck. The head falls to the ground, severed, and the tortured fire dims in its eyes.

I smile triumphantly, although I have accomplished nothing. Pfft, that's an accomplishment in and of itself. Yay, that was Paul and Sam, I presume.

"Thank you," Kim says.

Emily looks stunned. Her windblown look adds to that factor greatly, since her dark locks are swept behind her face like she rode 200 MPH on a rollercoaster without a seatbelt. Her hands twitch, shaking slightly. Her lips are slightly ajar, like she's trying to think of what to say. She blinks rapidly. I wonder if the Mist is affecting her right now. Her eyes focus on the two wolves eyeing her with concern.

We hear battle noises outside, until, with a clang and a hiss, a yell of victory is called. Several triumphant howls sound subsequently.

As well as a: "Gods, man! I could've lived happily without seeing your junk!"

Emily clears her throat. "Well? What are you two still doing in my kitchen! You're not supposed to phase in here. Go put some clothes on and help us clean up this mess."

The pack parades in here after a few minutes like nothing of consequence happened. Sam tramped in quickly and kissed Emily on the mouth, with a few, out of habit, lingering on her no longer scarred cheekbone.

Leah winces, biting her lip to stop a bitter remark from slipping out. I knit my eyebrows. By the way she looks at them, she used to like Sam or something. What Emily said earlier, up in the hallway, comes to the front of my mind. 'And I thought my life had drama before this? I didn't know what drama was! This is like a soap opera. Steal your cousin's boyfriend? Psh, that's nothing in this soap!' Steal your cousin's boyfriend? Leah and Emily are cousins?

I almost say, 'How could you?' to Emily, because of what she did to Leah. It's different with people at camp. You don't have cousins, you have sisters, but most of them don't care so much about you. They don't think you're so hot. You think of them as acquaintances, you don't care to know them. But there are those few- Lacy, Mitchell, Piper- who are kind of good enough to be your sister. You would never date their ex. But when it comes to Arianna and Drew?

Their exes fall under the category of: Fair game.

Emily and Leah were probably close. I eye them, searching for similarities. Same nose structure. Same russet hue covering their faces. With minimal makeup, you see their face clearer. Both have practically poreless skin. Leah is taller, but it's a side effect of lycanthropy. Brown eyes, but Emily has darker hair. Their lip quirk in the same fashion when or if, they smile. I guess, it was the imprint thing, that wedged them apart. I blink, in regret, that I thought this was perfect. It's not, it hurts people.

I need to stop hurting people. I can't do this to Paul. I always seem to break hearts, because I'm upholding tradition. Heartbreak is a trademark of my mother's. Sometimes she counts it as a blessing, even. She's more loco than Lady Nemesis. Love comes with a price, my ass.

I just can't break his heart. He'd stand by me forever (he doesn't even have a choice) and every bad thing that's happened to everyone in the last three days is whose fault? Mine.

Percy walks in behind Leah, and stand by the side. Paul lingers beside me, but I step away so his body heat doesn't affect me. Ignore him, my conscience orders. I can't hurt anyone anymore.

I just can't do it.

Plastering on a fake smile, I help Emily pull a batch of muffins from the oven. Somehow it hadn't burnt. I bring it up to my mouth, bite down and inhale the blueberry goodness the Muffin Queen had hexed up. I try not to show what I am feeling.

Percy flashes me a look that could've meant 'Are you okay?' or 'Is that all you are going to eat? Are you crazy?'. Paul is too busy inhaling muffins with the rest of the pack to notice the obvious 'SOS' expression on my face. I nod, and let him stuff three or four into his pie hole.

It's okay. I'm okay, I lie.

O God of Truth, please don't curse me for lying so much.

What hurts the most, is being so close.

Watching you walk away and having so much to say.

And never knowing what could've been.

Is what hurts the most.

At dinner, Percy declares, "I'm only going to stay for a few more days." We're sitting on the scratched floor (the table splintered into a million little pieces), with spaghetti on our laps.

Paul looks obviously relieved at his proclamation. He really doesn't like the guy.

Kim openly gapes at him. "You're not going to camp?" She can't imagine it. She, unlike the majority of the Hunters, like Camp Half Blood and all it had to offer. A personal favorite of hers is the lava wall.

"She won't tell me where it is," Percy lightly accuses me.

I plead guilty. "He'll get there eventually. I made a deal with the queen of the heavens, and he'll return to Annabeth and everything will be happy soon. You just have to do a quest for her first. Relatively easy, as your quests go." I lie between my teeth. Hera never told me what she wanted him to do, but he won't die, so life is good.

Sure…

Kim speaks, "You made a deal with WHO?! That woman... Percy, camp's in-"

I yell loudly, "YOU CAN'T TELL HIM! PEOPLE WILL DIE!" The pack's eyes widen at my statement. Don't they know already? The purpose of my life is to confuzzle people. Percy looks mildly interested, but resigned, at the fact that I'm a stubborn asshat. Ah, donkeys...

Kim and I have a stare down. Both Paul and Jared growl.

She sighs, resigning. "Fine."

And that was that. For now, at least.

We begin to listen to a monologue by Seth about what he was going to do tomorrow. It was nice, to hear his chipper babblin'.

Too bad, Seth. It's be nice for you to actually go do bumper cars tomorrow, but with THREE half-bloods in the same area...

Better set a raincheck.

I hope his tickets are refundable.