AN: At the time of writing, I was in the car just about to eat my own ham and chicken pie… it was all I could think about.
I pulled in at the service stop and pulled my sunglasses off. I gave up with buying inconspicuous cars a long time ago, at the end of the day I was a kick ass car kinda girl. Airlines were rubbish as well; no one wanted to ship my 911 Porsche turbo (top speed: 315km/h). They were willing at first, but when they heard my age it was immediately 'too valuable and a risk for theft.' Poseidon had technically bought it for me as late sixteenth birthday present (okay, okay, sixteenth and a half)after I had been chased by monsters in a Ford. Ignoring the usual stares and snide comments I walked in to the Starbucks there and ordered a Captain Crunch Frappuccino (AN: this drink does exist, it's a combination of hazelnut syrup with a Strawberries and Crème Frappuccino. Google the Starbucks secret menu)
Drink in hand, I walked back out. All one needed for a journey was a Frappuccino that no one knew about. When I got back to my car, I found some young lads lounging on the bonnet. "Excuse me; I need to get to my trunk." I asked. Be polite Azure.
"The trunk, darling, is on the back. Don't you know that? I could teach you a lot about this baby. Wanna ride? I know a diner near here." Asked the leader of the gang, a spotty boy probably about twenty one years old.
"Really, you sure? You sure you want to go out-because I would help, but I don't know which way you came in." I said, very sweetly whilst looking up through my lashes. The male species were often more annoying than monsters; both hindered the flow of my life. They turned away, probably disappointed that I wasn't some willing rich girl who would wine them, dine them and bed them-probably not in that order. Smiling to myself, I got my ham and chicken pie out of the boot and walked to my door. Opening it, I sighed and thought that there only a few hours left to go on the road and then I would be at Camp.
Three hours later, (Long Island Sound is only 237 miles away from Maryland) I was there. I pulled over at the battered old pine tree I'd heard so much about got out and inhales the air. It smelt salty, but there were strawberries, wood smoke, sawdust, hints of the Mist and magic. Truly, I don't know how these kids managed. With most demigods, their moods reflected that of their parents meaning that is Poseidon particularly wanted to kill Zeus for some reason (not like that would ever happen. Like never) then you might have a particularly murderous feeling daughter. Or son. It really kills, when just when you have the perfect plan for killing any son of Zeus who happens to get in your way (or you get in his way), Daddy dear is suddenly happy again and then, so are you to some extent.
But don't think that I have never known any demigods. After my mom died from a freak case of fatal insomnia in a mental health ward, (I was fourteen) I moved in with one of her friends who had a son, Everett, a year older than me who was also a demigod. His mom, Megan, had the most gorgeous green eyes, brown hair and pale skin. She pretty much was one of the loveliest people I ever will know. Everett and I went out with each other for a year, until Megan died whilst saving us. Everett, mad from grief threw himself into the arms of the first monster he could find whilst we were running. I was scooped up by Zeus and started training. You can probably guess the rest; you know, spent six months aboard the Princess Andromeda, moved for a quiet life in Maryland and then I was chased to Kansas and back by two Minotaur and a few Cyclopes.
I was interrupted from my reverie by a satyr approaching me.
"Which one are you? Protector name? Have you been claimed?" He bleated.
"I'm sorry? My name's Azure and I don't need a protector. I have survived seventeen years as a daughter of one of the big three, broken the great prophecy and spent six months infiltrating the Princess Andromeda. Oh, and I drove here from Maryland, after killing an inconvenient Kampe with the smell from a candle, in a Porsche 911 turbo."
Mr Goat, meanwhile, was looking faint. He grabbed mty hand and tried to drag me across the boundary.
"I'm sorry, goat guy, but where am I meant to put my car?" I asked.
"Leave everything there; we have to get you to Chiron now! It will be moved later, don't worry!"
And with that very impertinent comment, I was dragged over the boundary line.