fic: Death's Dare [Rachel/Nico, R, 13/?]

[greenconverses]

Title: Death's Dare
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Rachel/Nico, with appearances from the rest of the cast and the gods
Summary: After an attempt on her life, Apollo decides Rachel needs a bodyguard and who better to take the job than a certain son of Hades? Too bad they're not going to make things easy for each other, especially when it comes to their feelings.
Notes: I really hate that this took forever to write and I'm still not satisfied with it. But it had reached that point where it was either post it or let it linger on my hard drive for another six months, so here it is. I hope you enjoy and sorry for the wait.


Chapter 13: Enemy Mine

"Something's wrong."

"What?" Malcolm asked, turning back a few pages in his notes. "Did I miss something? Or do you want me to go back to page five sixty?"

Ever since he'd stepped inside Athena's Library, Nico had felt anxiety welling up inside of him. At first, he'd brushed it off as his own stomach twisting excitement over Malcolm's discoveries and later, the horrifying feeling of falling ass-over-kettle into a game changing scenario he wasn't prepared for.

But now, long minutes after he had recovered from his shock, the anxiety was still growing, reaching crushing heights and almost making him sick from the power of it, and there was absolutely no reason for it. No reason except that maybe it wasn't his anxiety he was feeling at all.

"No," Nico said, twisting the moonstone ring on his thumb absentmindedly. It had begun to itch around the same time his anxiety had reached fever pitch, reinforcing the idea that it wasn't his emotions at work here. "It's not — "

Suddenly, sharp, white-hot pain ripped through his head and he cried out, cupping his head in his hands and willing the pain to stop. He didn't know why this was happening or what was causing it and he was going to throw up if it didn't stop now —

"Nico!" Malcolm exclaimed, putting a hand on his shoulder. The other boy's touch grounded him to reality and within second, the pain was receding as fast as it had come on, leaving him panting and aching. "Dude, what the fuck's wrong with you? Are okay?"

Nico shook his head, unable to squeeze words out in-between his gasps for air. The crushing anxiety had disappeared right along with the pain, leaving him strung out and empty, except for one frantic little emotion.

Panic.

He stood abruptly from his chair, knocking books and papers to the floor. Malcolm stared at him, gray eyes wide, and opened his mouth to speak. Nico beat him to it.

"Rachel's in trouble," he rasped hoarsely. He began moving toward the stacks blindly, trying to find enough shadow so he could slide away, get to her side faster.

"I gotta — I can't — "

Malcolm's footsteps hurried after him, and Nico didn't bother to wait for him to catch up. Malcolm would only get in his way and he couldn't let that happen, not again, not again —

He tried to move through the shadows, but nothing happened. The shadows didn't even react to his presence, let alone bend to his will and need to move. They stayed where they were, arching harmlessly and lifelessly on the stone floor.

Nico his stomach drop down to his toes. Why weren't the shadows responding to him? Had he lost his concentration in his panic? But that had never happened before; shadow traveling had become second nature to him! Was something blocking his powers?

"Wait, how do you even know she's in trouble?" Malcolm asked. "She's not — oh gods, she's not dead, is she?"

Nico's heart sputtered to a horrified stop for the briefest of seconds, and then he shot the son of Athena a fierce look over his shoulder. "Don't say shit like that! She is not dead!"

Underneath their feet, the ground rumbled and the torches flickered ominously in their brackets, the elements responding to Nico's power as his panic and anger grew. Malcolm put up his hands in a placating manner, like Nico was some kind of dog that might bite him if he made the wrong move, and that just made him even angier.

"Nico, chill out. I can't help you if you're being Psycho Child of the Big Three right now," he said soothingly. "You can take a minute to tell me — "

"No, I can't. I don't have a minute," Nico snapped, grinding his teeth. "It doesn't matter how I know, just that I do know that Rachel is in trouble. Serious trouble, and I can't waste any more time fucking around here, so if you would tell me why the hell I can't shadow travel out of here, I would appreciate it!"

Malcolm's brow furrowed. "Shadow travel? That's an umbrakinetic activity, right? Wow, you guys really do get all the cool powers... " His enthusiasm died at the violent look Nico sent him. "Okay, right. No more sidetracking. Anyway, you can't leave the Library any way but the front door. That's the rule, to prevent thieves and unwanted people from getting in unnoticed — "

Nico let out a noise of frustration, and grabbed Malcolm by the collar of his t-shirt. "Then show me the way out already!"

Malcolm nodded, fear apparent in his gaze, and Nico let go of him. He'd have to apologize for acting unhinged later, but right now, getting to Rachel was more important than manners. However, instead of leading him back out of the stacks, Malcolm turned back around, toward his studying area.

"What are you doing?" Nico demanded, following reluctantly. "We don't have time for this!"

"Trust me, you're going to need these if you're expecting to fight the Norse," Malcolm replied, grabbing a few books and shoving them into his backpack. "They don't follow the same rules as we do, and they have different weaknesses. You're gonna need to read up."

"I don't have time to read — "

Malcolm turned and slammed a book into his chest. Nico contemplated hitting him for that, but he recognized the look in his eyes — it was the same one Annabeth got right when she was ready to head into battle and had a master strategy in mind.

"The Norse aren't going to kill her right away. They'll want to get a prophecy or two out of her first, or maybe try to convince her to switch sides. You have the time. If you walk in blind, you're basically guaranteeing her death and yours."

Nico grit his teeth, but shoved the book into the inner pocket of his jacket. As much as he hated to admit it, Malcolm did have a point. Damn smartass kids of Athena.

"Fine," he said shortly. "You have everything we need?"

Malcolm nodded, shoving a scroll into his bag before hoisting it over his shoulder. However, before he could lead Nico away, movement on the wall behind him caught both their attention.

Athena's immortal territory tapestry rippled as the threads and patterns rearranged into a close-up view of Manhattan Island. The island remained a bright, beautiful blue for a few seconds before a spot of green appeared appeared smack in the middle of it — green, the color of the Norse.

"Maybe we don't have as much time as I thought," Malcolm muttered, grabbing Nico by the arm and dragging him through the aisles. "Run!"

*

Nice and quiet were two words Percy Jackson hardly got to use about his life, but tonight, things certainly were nice and quiet around his apartment. He'd managed to cook dinner without burning anything, had a conversation with Annabeth over the phone that managed to be somewhat romantic rather than the two of them snarking back and forth for an hour, and had finished his homework two days before it was due instead of procrastinating on it for once.

It figured that peace would be ruined the instant he decided to kick back, crack open a beer, and watch the Mets game. The universe liked to keep him on his toes in that way.

There was a crash in his kitchen, and Percy turned his head just in time to see Malcolm doubling over to throw up in his garbage can. His eyes flickered upward and met Nico's intensely black gaze.

"Trouble?" he asked, turning off his TV.

"Like you wouldn't believe," the son of Hades replied, tossing a book at him.

Percy caught it and glanced at the cover. The Norse Gods and Monsters Guide For Lazy Demigods Who Can't Be Bothered To Do Proper Research and Don't Want to Get Their Heads Chopped Off. Oh, lovely.

"Someday, I am going to figure out how to shadow-travel proof my apartment so you have to call about these sorts of things like a normal person," Percy sighed, getting to his feet. "So. What do we gotta do?"

*

"Is she awake yet?"

"This is the seventh time you've asked this hour and the answer is still the same — no. Maybe if you had done what you were asked and brought her back conscious — "

Rachel's head felt achy and heavy, and the yelling — whoever was doing it, it certainly didn't sound like Nico or her father, maybe it was Percy — wasn't helping to dull the sharp pain that throbbed in her temple. Didn't they know better than to shout when she had a headache? Gods, the nerve of some people...

She let out a minute groan, although the sound that was swallowed by another shout.

"How is it my fault that she went and cracked her head on the car door? We're lucky she was distracted and didn't put up much of a fight. Whoever thought it was a good idea to stage a kidnapping in the middle of touristville is a total idiot."

Kidnapping.

The word cut through the hazy, groggy pain of Rachel's mind, clearing her senses immediately. Images flashed through her mind — the sleek Town Car, the shadowy figure in the window glass, the ice blue eyes evaluating her like a pawn on a chess board — as the night's previous events came roaring back to her. These weren't her friends arguing right now — those voices belonged to the people who wanted to kill her.

"That wasn't just touristville," a deep voice to her right said. "We go her right outside one of the Olympian power hubs. Right under their noses and they didn't even notice. Arrogant pricks."

Her eyes flew open. They had her right where they wanted her — helpless, defenseless and absolutely alone.

Panic bubbled inside her and Rachel had to fight to stop a pitiful, frightened whimper from escaping her throat. She was slumped over, tied to a chair, a curtain of redhead hiding her face, and she was absolutely helpless. She was going die, they were going to kill her, and — and —

She shifted in her chair and felt the steadying weight of the moonstone necklace Nico had given her slide against her collarbone. No... no, she wasn't totally alone and she wouldn't be for long.

She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to calm down and regain her focus. She wouldn't help herself by being an idiot and panicking. She needed to stay calm and think. Wasn't that what Chiron always told the new demigods while they had trained at camp? If you're in trouble, take a deep breath, calm down, and assess the situation before doing anything stupid.

First things first. Was she hurt in any debilitating sort of way? Aside from the throbbing in her head, she didn't think so. Her arms ached from where they have been positioned behind her and her wrists were a little sore from the ropes used to bind them together. But they had left her legs free and the ropes around her wrists seemed a little loose. Maybe she could work them off while they were distracted, to at least give herself a fighting chance.

The chair creaked alarmingly loud as she shifted, and she prayed that her captors would miss that sound just as they had missed her earlier groan.

Sharp fingers grasped the back of her neck and yanked her head upright; Rachel gasped loudly, blinking back tears bright light flooded in her eyes and her head throbbed painfully in response to the over-stimulation.

"She's awake," a nasally male voice said from behind her, pinching his fingers into her neck to draw another gasp of pain out of her. "Probably has been for a little while, the bitch."

"Oh good," a woman's voice said, almost sounding bored. "Let's get this over with already. I have a party to go to."

In any other, non-life threatening circumstance, Rachel might have found her indifference amusing. It figured that even when someone was trying to kill her, she'd be seen as an inconvenience. There was almost something reassuringly familiar about it all.

"Would you stop fucking whining? Operation Cassandra's your priority now. You're not going to your damn party, Liv."

Rachel knew that name and that voice. But it couldn't be...

"Liv?" Rachel asked, before she could stop herself. Her voice was hoarse and small with pain. "Liv Astor?"

The man behind her made a sound of disgust, and let go of her neck, shoving her head forward.

"I told you letting her see our faces was a bad idea! We should've just hired people to do this, but no. You two had to have the fucking satisfaction of doing it yourselves," he said as Rachel's vision cleared and her gaze settled on the woman lounging on the elegant blue chaise a few feet in front of her.

Still pretty and petite, the short-haired blonde didn't look much different from the last time Rachel had seen her, even if that had been almost four years ago in the dorm they had shared at Clarion Academy.

Liv gave Rachel a sarcastic little wave and said, "Hey Rach. Long time, no see."

Rachel was too shocked for words. What the hell was Liv Astor doing involved in an assassination plot of the Oracle of Delphi?

Liv was a Manhattan socialite, one of those people who were famous simply for having an old surname, tons of cash, and being skinny and pretty. Rachel hadn't seen her much since her days at the academy, except maybe in photos on the gossip page now and then or at social events where they'd largely ignore each other, but she'd heard her father talking about how the Astors were strapped for cash now, thanks to a bad business venture on Mr. Astors's part.

As much as Rachel disliked her, she was pretty sure she would've noticed if Liv was a demigod during their years as roommates. And Liv probably wouldn't have made as much fun of her for collapsing as she did if she had known she was the Oracle.

"Oh will you stop your bitching already, Jake?" Liv replied, turning her gaze away momentarily. "She's not gonna tell anyone, are you, Rach?"

"Is this some kind of prank?" Rachel said, not bothering to hide the incredulity in her voice.

Liv's perfectly shaped eyebrows knotted together, confused, and she turned to look at the remaning member of her group.

Rachel followed her gaze and was greeted by another familiar face – Eric Delano, the owner of the icy blue eyes from the car. He was the youngest son of a failed line of Wall Street executives, and still handsome – exceedingly so, actually. Rachel was sure it was taking all of Liv's will power not to jump into his lap and have at him. But the look in his eyes was unkind and cruel, especially when it was directed at her.

She remembered Eric accompanying his father to Dare Enterprises to negotiate with her father a few years ago, before the stock market took a dive again. Thanks to Rachel's predictive abilities and her father's good business sense, the Dare family had avoided the brunt of the economic blow, but families like the Delanos had the majority of their wealth wiped out.

And if Eric was here, it meant that the third member of the little group could only be his perpetual shadow, the brutish Jake Van Buren. Last she'd heard, Jake had been kicked out of Yale for cheating and general misconduct, and was now trying his luck at professional boxing.

"A prank?" Liv repeated when Eric didn't answer for her. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"Or like some kind of Upper East Side hazing ritual that I was unaware of?" Rachel continued, ignoring her. "Because, really, I don't want to have any part of this. I don't even like you guys, much less wanna be part of your little club hopping, snobby Sunday brunch clique."

Her fear had disappeared and confidence had come back in spades once she realized who her kidnappers were; it was hard to be terrified of the girl who had made you kill spiders when she was seventeen. These three were spoiled brats, sure, but hardly dangerous.

"The feeling's mutual, bitch," Jake muttered, and Eric shot him a silencing glare.

"You know perfectly well what this is about, Rachel," Eric said, his voice even and sure. "In fact, if everything we've been told is true, you should've known this was coming."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rachel replied airily, although her denial was not exactly convincing. Even though she'd heard enough to convince her that the trio knew the Greek gods were still alive, there was no telling what they didn't know and she'd had to escape only to be fried by Zeus's lightning bolts for revealing secrets.

"Playing dumb isn't going to work, Oracle," Liv all but spat. "We know everything about you."

"Oh, I highly doubt that," Rachel said, leaning back in her chair confidently. Jake was still behind her, so she could only fiddle with the ropes around her wrists causally. "If you knew everything about me, you'd know that this whole kidnapping thing was probably the worst thing you could do. Ever."

Eric exchanged a look with Liv, and rose out of his chair. Rachel figured now would be an appropriate time for him to go into evil villain mode and rant about his excellently laid plans and how no one, not even Zeus himself, was going to stop him from world domination, so she could work on freeing herself while Jake and Liv were distracted by their fawning over him. This entire situation seemed like a plot out of a really horrible B-movie the way it was; a few more cliches wouldn't hurt it any.

Instead, he walked silently toward her, bent forward, and cupped her chin in his palm. Rachel's skin tingled, repulsed by the unwelcome, foreign touch, and she yanked her head away, glaring at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Eric smirked, and then slid his palm down her neck until his fingers found the chain of her necklace and yanked it free. Rachel yelped as the chain bit into her neck before falling free; the pain lingered, but she didn't concern herself with that. Her one chance of Nico learning her location had been taken away. How had Eric known about the necklace?

"This was the stupid thing the priestess wanted, right?" Eric said, tossing the necklace to Liv.

She held it up to the light and nodded. "That's it. God, this looks cheap. I guess she couldn't improve her taste with that magic of hers... "

Rachel's heart dropped down to her stomach. Priestess? He couldn't mean – not –

"Guess you thought we'd be too dumb not to make allies on your side," Jake husked in her ear, leaning forward and bracing his hands on her shoulders. Rachel shuddered, wishing she could dislodge him. "Too bad not everyone likes the precious little Oracle. Turns out you pissed off one very powerful priestess of Hecate by stealing her boyfriend and she decided to help us out... "

Kate. She'd probably found out about her and Nico through those paparazzi pictures like Apollo had, and went ballistic about it. Why was everyone in this ridiculous family so jealous? When she got out of this, Rachel was going to kill that green haired little traitor.

"She even did some of that voodoo on this room here," Jake continued, "so that your demigod buddies can't get inside. Even if they found you, as long as you're in here, no one with Greek blood in their veins is getting in."

"Not to mention you're not getting any help from your gods," Eric added, putting his hands in his pockets. "They can't interfere with mortal business and they make it even less of a priority to interfere when other pantheons are involved."

Rachel's head was beginning to spin. Other pantheons? Did they even exist? And if they did, what would another group of deities want with her?

"So basically," Liv said, tearing her gaze away from the necklace to shoot an evil little smirk in her direction. "You're screwed, Rachel Dare. Especially once we get through with you."

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