Disclaimer: All rights of characters are reserved to Rick Riordan. I only own the plot and OOC-ness of the characters. Also, last chapter's title is a lyric from M.I.A's Bad Girls and this chapter's title is from Bryce Fox's Horns. I think it might be a good idea to listen to the song of which the title comes from during reading. Thanks.

3anona

CHAPTER 2: 'Cause The Girl She's Hiding Horns

Sneaking back to school was easier than one would've thought. And I'm not being cocky, the security guards are either asleep, drunk, or playing card or board games, andthe security feed is rigged by a couple of IT students. I mean, who would think that aprivate school for delinquents and troubled kids needs more vigilant security?

"A headcount and we'll all be on our way," Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher who thought as an award for us passing his class a trip to the Metropolitan Museum to look at Ancient Greek and Roman stuff is a good idea, shouts over the ruckus that is sixth-graders.

It is a miracle how he deals with hyperactive delinquents like it is an everyday occurrence. Also adding to the fact that he's wheelchair-bound, he is a pretty awesome dude. He sets up gladiator-like tournaments in one of campus' many gardens and fields.

He even lets us use swords and shields, which were child-proofed. ("I'm afraid of havingto worry about unnecessary maiming." But it's fun anyways.) His tweed jacketconstantly smells like coffee. And I suspect a chocolate fetish. Seriously, he always has some wherever he is.

I sighed.

"Could you two stop fighting for once in your fucked-up, miserable lives?" Nancy andGrover were at it, again. I think it's a crush. On second thought...Nope!

Nancy Bobofit was this redheaded rich-brat I took under my wing in fifth grade. She wasone of those who thought that bullying would get her somewhere. I knocked somesense into her, literally. And now she is like this passive-aggressive little sister under my care. Neglectful parents are massive fucktards.

Grover, however, is this crippled kid who would do anything for cheese enchiladas,

even going as far as ignoring his crutches. The brunette is as awkward as a goldfish ina shark tank. He, also, has this habit of bleating when nervous or scared. He was one ofNancy's first victims. Now, both act on the concept of sibling rivalry. It is as endearing as it is fucking annoying.

"Now why the hell would I do that?," Nancy was perplexed.

"Uhh," Grover was looking at me weird and concerned. "Are you okay…?"

How do you explain to your friends that you've been up all night on a goose chase witha world-wide criminal organization? You don't. But they know about my sneaking out ofschool, so…. And being squished between them is not helping my growing migraine. Ugh.

Forty-five minutes and a food fight later, we were standing in front of stone slab withpictures of fourteen naked dudes and dudettes. The Olympians stood in all their nude glory, the Olympian gods not council, cause Zeus is a whiny bitch who doesn't want hisbig brother and sister on his council.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one attempting to melt the stone with my eyes. Mrs.Dodds, our other chaperone, seemed pretty intent on turning the marble to ash.Sheesh, the glare is worse than the ones she uses in her pre-Algebra classes. (" Now,honey…" and then you find yourself with a month worth of the most ridiculously possiblepunishment. Like is mowing the lawn in front of the teacher's lounge with child-safety scissors even legal?) She was widely known as the school's demon-grandmother-from-hell, especially with that leather jacket of hers.

Grover and Nancy were trying to see whose push is strong enough to knock the other off balance first. Ugh, idiots!

I grabbed them both from the scruff of their necks, and pulled them away from each other, with a loud, "What in the name of the ever loving fuck are you two doing?"

Silence. Shit.

"Is everything okay, Ms. Jackson?" Mr. Brunner raises an eyebrow at my man-handlingof the two, but doesn't say anything. It, unfortunately, is a pretty normal sight aroundhere. Also, I think he finally learned to ignore my rough language.

"Not at all, Mr.Brunner," I smiled cheekily. "We were just reenacting the Big Three's

domain division." Nancy and Grover looked at me incredulously, as if saying, areseriously serious right now? But I was on a roll now. "If the stories are true enough, Zeus and Hades would've been at each other's throats, because Zeus was being a dickand Hades, being the old sibling, was extremely annoyed. And because Poseidon was the middle child, he was stuck in the middle until he finally snapped. And that is whereyou find us in this predicament."

I dropped them both and mock-bowed. Grover was shaking in what appears to be fear, as thunder rumbles outside loudly. He's often like that when it comes to thunderstorms, or storms in general. And natural disasters. Pussy. Nancy was shaking her head.

"And what, Ms. Jackson, led to that debacle?" He looks a bit uncomfortable, like he justate a lemon. Huh.

"Well, it depends really. Do you want an origin story or a flash forward?" I ask. He

nodded at the former. "Okay. So, we start with the crazy, evil, farmer, aka Kronos." Mr.Brunner raises an eyebrow. "And it seems that he has a taste for babies, which explains why he ate his children after Mother Bitch- ah, my bad- Nature, Gaea his mother, told him a prophecy? About how he'll end up like his old man Uranus, whose chopped off dick apparently makes pretty ladies- ask Aphrodite. Anyway, to avoid that, he ate his children.

"But a great thanks for baby Zeus looking as ugly as a rock, his mama, Mother Rhea- she's a chill person in my book- fed her husband a rock. Sparky grew up and

gave his dad a barf-worthy drink that ended with his fully grown siblings out of their father's stomach.

"A war happened, the Titanomachy. And the gods won. And the bros divided the world through a draw. Zeus takes the sky, Poseidon the seas, and Hades the underworld. And the end, until Zeus hits puberty and starts putting his dick where it doesn't belong, aka the new beginning of Greek Mythology," I finished with a bow, mybraids brushing the ground.

Mrs. Dodds was cackling. The rest of the students were either laughing or pretending to barf or strangling each other.

Grover and Mr. Brunner were having some sort of silent conversation, both looking akinto ghosts. They're both in on something. Because no matter house close to a teacher you are, you do not talk behind your friend's back with a teacher. I was suspicious oneday and decided to eavesdrop. They were talking about me, but it was very confusing.

I sat back. And I still am, waiting for them to slip, because even during to their secretmeet-ups, they talk about a You-Know-Who after the blood of the thief of

You-Know-What. After all, patience is virtue. Sometimes.

"I guess full credit to you Ms.Jackson," Mr. Brunner said after he and Grover seemed tocome to a decision, and the class was quiet. "And please try and refrain from speakingin such way."

I humored him with a nod and preppy smile. He sighed, "How does a lunch break soundlike?"

We all headed outside to eat, despite the incoming storm. I was sitting on the edge ofthe fountain, a hand in the water and the other feeling Kýma, my athame, under my too-big-but-still-my-favorite green hoodie. Both were soothing for me. Both humming a familiar, yet foreign tune, melody… I don't know. It just is.

I sighed. Something bad is going to happen. I could feel it.

My moment of relative-peace was broken by two bickering pre-teens settling beside me.

"What is it this time?" I sighed. I really don't have time for this.

They both start talking at the same time. And, honestly, my mood is messed up since last night. I didn't get much sleep. I didn't get the information I need. And now I have todeal with Grover and Nancy's never-getting-along daily fiasco. And I'm just so stressed.

I scream-groaned in frustration.

Next thing I know, everyone and thing is silent. Everyone is staring behind me.

Nancy and Gover were soaking in the middle of the fountain with varying looks of oh, shit! and what the fuck? I'll let you guess who has which.

The silence was broken when the two idiots got out of the fountain, wet to the bone. Whispers broke out, some claiming I pushed them in and some saying the water grabbed them.

Oh, shit!

There is a reason, after all, for why I try to keep my cool. I do not want the government on my ass anymore than they already are.

I took a deep breathe to calm down. Wouldn't want the fountain to spontaneously combust. Yes, it's Summer, but that doesn't mean someone needs an unmentioned shower this trip. It happened before in fourth grade. It involved levers, catwalks, and a shark tank. It wasn't nice, for them. I loved it, sharks are the cutest, cuddly predators.

Any way, back to the problem at hand.

Mrs. Dodds grabbed me by my hood and dragged me back to the museum, all the while ignoring Grover's nervous bleats of 'I pushed Nancy' and Nancy's 'I pushed Grover.' I swear if she wasn't a teacher, she wouldn't have had her hand intact.

She only stopped when we were in the same exhibit of the nude Olympians. It was completely empty except for the both of us and the marble slab.

I turned and snatched mt hood from her grasp, glaring at her. Hard. It gave me pleasure when she flinched before she started growling.

"Where is it?" she screeched. "Where is it theif?"

"Depends on what is it your looking for," I replied lowly and coolly. My stare didn't waver when two Mrs. Dodds-doppelgangers dropped from the windows. It didn't waver when it became hot and cold at the same time. It didn't even waver when they started morphing.

You lose your cool now, you die. Stay focused and freak later when it's over.

I took a deep breath and focused on my surroundings. Thank whoever is up there for ADHD, it becomes very useful in situations like these. It helped me know that the two approaching from the back were holding scorching weapons, not unlike Mrs. Dodds' lava whip. It helped me know that all entrances were closed including windows, except the one where Mrs. Dodds and I came from, but it was guarded by the twin with the flaming battle axe. Lovely.

I refocused on the now fully morphed Fury. ( Their picture was carved somewhere in themuseum. The Erinyes. And they looked suspiciously alike. Put two and two together, well it isn't that hard.) Her leathers blakish-gray, leather skin ended with yellow, foot-long talons for fingers and toes, and jagged sharp fangs in her mouth. And boy she looked fugly! Her coal red eyes, not unlike those truck- sized hounds I've encountered,were full of hatred and was that confusion? She was probably wondering why I didn't

look close to pissing myself. I was stone still, yet hyper-aware of their inching closer tome.

"What are you accusing me of stealing?" My voice was still cold.

"You know!" They wailed in unison. "You know, thief! Now give it back!"

"I'm afraid I don't know. For all I know you could be talking about the last piece of

yesterday's Chocolate Cake," I said and shrugged one shoulder delicately. "It was

good," I added as an afterthought and relaxed my stance.

Getting them angry, my mind supplied. There's a more significant chance of survival ifyour opponent is in an anger-haze. They become furious, more brutal, but sloppy andinefficient if they don't know how to channel their anger. They don't seem me as athreat. Good. They think I'm bluffing and arrogant. And they look that they normally get their way with things. They think they're playing with me.

They screeched so loud I doubt that they didn't hear it outside. "Our Master will have your head!"

Next thing you know, the mace-wielding Fury had a glowing-bronze knife in between her eyes, and into her brain. She turned to sulfuric, golden dust, just like the hound. Her black mace remained on the dust pile with the innocent looking bronze knife.

"Megaera!" Her two sisters wailed again.

In my hand, already two more glowy-bronze throwing knives in place of the one I already threw. I held them like ice picks, and raised a mocking eyebrow at the two remaining Furies.

They screamed, again, and unprepared-for-battle began.

She cracked her fire-whip at me, while I ducked to miss the flaming-axe and slashed at the hags' feet. They hissed and caught their weapons before they hit the other and turned on me. But I was high on adrenaline.

I chopped of axe-Fury's hand, and her hand and weapon were on the ground. I took the chance plunged one of my knives in her heart cavity. She turned to golden dust milliseconds short of taking my throat with her.

"Tisiphone!" I guess Mrs. Dodds was Alecto. Great.

I picked up the axe, and in my adrenaline high my brain ignored the flames dancing

around the black metal or the fact that it probably weighed more than myself.

I would've had my arm cleaved off if my instincts weren't so honed. I turned and found my demon math teacher airborne. Without thinking I jumped, swinging the axe. Alecto howled as her wing was cut off and was veering towards the ground. I tackled her from behind and chopped of the other leathery wing.

I quickly tied her hand with the whip behind her back and shoved two of my black knives, I think of the same metal as the Furies' weapons, through her calves and into the floor. I was on her back.

"Now," I began as I pressed her head to the floor. She was seething and thrashing, but I held on. "What did I steal? Who sent you here? And Why in do you think that I stole it?"

I chose to ignore the two gasps, and therefore the two people who just entered. I very much like to know why someone is after my head. When she stayed silent, I bashed herhead in the floor.

"You will pay for this thief!" I swear, I'm barely holding it together. "My Master-"

"Arrgh!" I screamed as I bashed her head in once more. Apparently it was too much,and she too following her sisters turned to golden dust.

I stood up and dusted myself from her remains. I exhaled, attempting to come down from the adrenaline rush while I collected my knives and spoils (I think.)

After a stare down with the inanimate objects- the axe, mace, whip and Alecto's wings- I had a two back ring bands, a thin black, multi-layered cuff bracelet, and two awesome black, fingerless leather gloves with thick and sharp spikes on the knuckles. Again, awesome!

I turned back to see Grover and Mr. Brunner staring at me with undisguised shock and is that awe? Grover was holding his reed pipes, that I advised him many time to think before he plays, threateningly while my wheelchair-bound teacher had a quiver of arrows hanging of his wheelchair and an arrow notched in a wooden bow. They seemed frozen.

"A bit too late for the cavalry, eh?" I smirked and raised an eyebrow while putting my hands on my hips.