I do not own Percy Jackson nor Heroes of Olympus, they belong to Rick Riordan.

Chapter Sixteen - Alyx

She scanned the area, frowning a bit when she didn't find anything. It was ten in the morning, not too early and the city was bustling already. They split up to cover more ground, and the reason they were doing this was to make sure that no one was following them.

Her stomach growled.

She slouched and hopped down from her place on the tree, pulling off her hood and catching a cab back to the hotel.

She sat at the table inside the restaurant, when Carlos and Liam walked in. They spotted her and walked up, sitting down.

"Find anything?" Carlos asked.

"No." She replied. "You?"

"Nothing. I don't think we were followed."

"You never know, Liam. Be on close watch." They nodded.

They ordered food, Carlos looking outside. Since the hotel room only had two beds, Liam and Carlos shared a bed again. Liam had woken up, woke her up and said that Carlos was having a bad dream. To prove her point, Carlos woke up crying. He was crying so hard he could barely breathe. He wouldn't tell them his dream though.

"You sure you don't want to tell us?" She asked gently.

"I'm sure…" He mumbled, taking the syrup and pouring on his pancakes.

She left him alone.

After eating, they departed again. She sat on a branch, pouting a bit. She wanted to be in action so bad. Sure yesterday was fun, but she really wanted to fight an actual person. So far the trip had been boring, besides the encounter with those women and the Fury. She frowned deeply, looking at cars passing. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Alyx! Help!

She stiffened, looking around, before hopping down and running across the street quickly, much to a lot of people's displeasure but it was Dallas. They've probably seen weirder things than a girl running across the street in all black. She ran into the alley and climbed a ladder to the roof, pulling on her hood and mask. She scanned the area.

Help!

It was Liam.

She hopped across the rooftops, landing perfectly each time. She finally arrived at Liam's location. She had no idea how, but it was like she had an internal navigation system. She shrunk herself. She was on the roof of a building next to a restaurant, and Liam and a taller guy were. Liam was pinned against the wall, his squirming weakening each second. His hands clawed at the other man's wrist, whose hand was around his throat, squeezing hard.

"Tell me where she is!" The man was yelling. He was dark skinned, with cinnamon brown curls and handsome features. His eyes were pale gold and his body was built like Liam's, maybe a bit more muscular. Liam's struggling weakened more, his hands slowly falling as he begin to lose consciousness. She grabbed a knife and threw it without thinking. It landed through the man's hand on the wall, the man yelling in pain and dropping Liam, grabbing the knife and pulling it out. She hopped down, doing a ninja roll, grabbing the knife and Liam's waist and they dissolved into shadows.

They appeared in the hotel room, Liam collapsing and coughing horribly. She set the knife on the desk, pulling off her hood and mask, taking her jacket off and throwing it onto her bed. She dug through her pack until she pulled out a vile of nectar, rushing over and gently moving his hands away.

"Here, drink." She ordered and he opened his mouth without hesitation. She poured in the right amount, stroking his hair as his panting lessened. The bruising went down, and he leaned into her hand, his eyes fluttering. There was a sound of a click before the door opened, Carlos bursting in.

"What happened?" He asked, rushing over.

"A guy was choking him." She explained shortly, grabbing the cream and a roll of gauze. She gently pulled off his jacket, then rubbed the cream on before wrapping gauze around it. He panted a bit through it all, but didn't protest.

"Thank you…" He managed out.

"It'll take a while for the nectar to kick in fully, so until then, let's rest here."

She stared down at the pool, families laughing and throwing their kids around.

"Hey." Carlos said. She looked over, seeing him sucking on a cookie.

"Hey." She replied, adjusting her gloves. It was silent except for the squealing down below and Carlos's chewing.

"You know," Carlos said, wiping his hands on his jeans. "When I was twelve, I fell off my bike and dislocated my shoulder and sprained my ankle." She looked over at him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Had to go to the hospital to get it fixed." He leaned on the rail. "It hurt like hell, but Harper helped me through it." She chuckled and put her cheek against her hand.

"Point is, you remind me of Harper."

"Oh?"

"Just more punk like." He pulled out a picture, handing it to her. She took it. It was of Silena, Charles, Carlos and Pearl, with a beautiful young woman. She had long brown hair tied in a braid, blue eyes like Carlos, and tan skin.

"She went to New York for college at NYU." He said. "She'll be on break in a few weeks."

"Does she go back to San Francisco?"

"She did for winter, but I don't know about spring." He sighed. "I miss her."

"Maybe after I get my memory back, we can go visit her." He raised his eyebrow.

"Um… Family visiting isn't allowed until summer." She shrugged.

"So?" He shook his head.

"You're so weird…"

"Yup." She looked over at Liam, who slept, his breathing ragged. "I don't think he'll be talking for a few days."

"He was choked, of course he's not going to talk." Carlos sat, tapping his foot. He yawned. She smiled and sat down, looking over the rail.

"I wonder what my family is like…"

She sat in his lap while he combed her hair. Liam nibbled on a soft cookie, ready for bed. His neck was wrapped neatly, but he would have to wear a high collar shirt tomorrow for the car rental.

"How are you feeling?" She asked. He held up a thumb.

"Just rest your voice. In the morning I'll get you another vile of nectar." He nodded and continued to read his book.

"Gods, your hair is so silky…" Carlos muttered, tying it back into a ponytail. She laughed, kicking her feet.

"Thank you."

"Not a compliment."

"Eh, oh well."

She stared at herself in the mirror the next morning, running her fingers down the SPQR tattoo. What did the seventeen lines mean? Seventeen months? Years? Days? She groaned and grabbed the roll of bandages.

Who am I?

To Be Continued...