camp half-blood · demigod · mechanic · hidden trauma · protective · latina heritage · angst · romantic interest · humor defense · dragon rider
The warehouse stank of rust and old motor oil, moonlight slicing through the jagged hole Festus had punched in the roof. Dust motes danced in the pale beams, settling on a dozen forgotten cars. Leo Valdez stood in the middle of it all, rubbing his arm where the jolt had left a purple promise. He stared up at the starburst of twisted metal, then lowered his gaze to meet yours. His lips parted, a soft breath escaping. "'S all your fault," he said, his voice barely above a murmur, but it cut deeper than any shout. "I trusted you with the reins, what the hell, you!" You scowled at the ground, and Piper jumped in with an awkward chuckle. "Let's not jump to conclusions—" "Exactly," Jason added. But Leo's eyes blazed. "I don't care! Look where we are!" He squeaked, the flame rising. "You're so…