Annabeth spent the day training in her room. She stretched, brushed up on her marital arts. All of it.

But as the sun set, she got ready.

Golden curls fell to frame her face, the lightest amounts of makeup just to make her eyes and lips pop. She surveyed herself in the mirror, the black clothes she always wore. A cropped black tank top, the plunging neckline cut so her runes weren't visible but so that no one gave her much thought. The tight black jeans with the jeweled buttons and high waist, and the leather jacket she had covering her arms.

Arms covered in runes for everything you could imagine.

The heels of her boots, low cut with zippers up the sides, made no noise as she walked to her bedroom door. She had weapons, but like all Shadowhunters, she could summon them as she wished. Though, the ones she couldn't, the mortal daggers she carried everywhere she went, were tucked into hidden pockets in the inside of her jacket.

A small silver necklace rest against her collar bones, the charm a small owl with black eyes.

Something that was a symbol of her family line.

The owl.

Each of her mother's line had an owl on them at all times. Hers was in the form a necklace, her mother preferred the hair clip method.

Before she opened the door, to go see if Percy was ready yet, a knock sounded. Annabeth opened the door slowly, peering out.

Only to find Percy leaning against her door frame. His black hair was tussled and messy, like he had just been rolling in the sheets with someone and not bothered to find a comb, falling just to touch his brow. His green eyes took her in, from head to tow in one long sweeping glance.

She took his measure too.

A black t-shirt, tight fitted to show off the powerful muscles on his arms and chest, low hanging jeans with a metal studded belt, and laced up boots. His arms would have showed traces of rune scars, if it weren't for the black hoodie he wore.

His green eyes glittered in the dim lighting of the hall. "Well, hello there." His lips, pink and soft looking, twisted into his smirk. The smirk he no doubt always wore. "Ready to prowl the night?" He whispered, as if it was their own little secret. Shivers laced up her spine, but she just smirked back.

"As always." She whispered with equal softness, leaning forward just a bit. Percy's smirk widened into a grin, and he held out his arm.

"Ladies first." His voice was soft and teasing, like a wolf circling a doe. But when Annabeth walked out in front of him, letting the grace and stealth that had been pounded into her show, she let him know there was a mountain cat wearing its skin instead.

(}{)

The club's music pounded through his head, trying to invade his thoughts. Yet, he drowned it out, focusing on the job at hand.

Today he was to make contact with an old warlock friend of his. She was around here somewhere, and since this was a Downworlders' club she wouldn't be out of place. As Percy scanned the crowed he kept one eye on the blonde he had brought with him.

He didn't know why he had done it, couldn't explain it. He always worked alone. Always.

But something . . . pulled him, low in his gut when he met her. Something told him, as if whispering in his ear, 'watch her'. He didn't know if it was good or bad, but he wasn't letting her out of his sight.

That's when he felt a coy tug at his arm. Like a wire had wrapped around his wrist and someone was on the other end, trying to reel him in. Percy let the tug lead him, all the way into a corner of the club.

The booth was a bright purple, the table pure black with flecks of glowing paint flicked onto the surface. In the booth sat a young woman and a young man. Though neither were actually young, just looked the part.

The male was big, broad shouldered, muscled, and a bit stocky. Like a football player. His short black hair was spiked up naturally and his brown eyes scanned the club for any threats. His clothes, a simple white t-shirt and jeans, down played the born and bred fighter. With a military mind and a warrior's strength, he was some opponent.

But it was the woman beside him that was the threat.

Her cinnamon colored curls framed her head in a wide halo, complementing her golden cat eyes. Her curves and slim waist a distraction for the magic she could wield to wipe you off the face of the planet. Not that she would, no, Percy knew she was kind. To those who earned it. Her full lips spread into a smile, her golden heels crossed and resting in the lap of the man beside her.

Red dresses were always a favorite of the warlock before him, and tonight was no exception. The dress she wore shimmered and glittered, a cut running up her leg to expose the smooth skin beneath. And the modest neckline, still enough to let her work her charms and play it off as a shy girl. Her favorite mask.

Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang.

They weren't married, but might as well be with how long they had been together. Longer, Percy thought, than most the people he knew had even been on the earth.

"Percy." Hazel smiled, showing off her white teeth. "Join us." She motioned to the seat beside her. Her boyfriend didn't even tense as Percy slid into the booth beside Hazel. He knew Percy, and trusted Hazel enough to know nothing was going to happen. A rare trait in males.

Especially a werewolf.

"We've missed you." Hazel poked Percy's arm but still smiled. "You were gone so long this time. The only way I could track you is by finding out which nest of demons had last been killed." She scolded, letting the golden sparks around her fingertips do most of the talking.

"I'm sorry my friend." Percy dipped his chin. "The job took longer than usual." He took a drink from a passing waiter and took a sip. "Speaking of jobs, have any information for me, Oh Great Warlock?" He teased.

Hazel let out a breath. "I do, but I think you should take a break." Her eyes narrowed. "Plus, remind me why you come to me for your information instead of Magnus Bane. He is your kinds' favorite." Her eyes seemed to simmer, she wasn't angry, just slightly perturbed.

"Because they all see him as the greatest. High Warlock of Brooklyn and all." Percy smirked. "I just prefer to do dealing with the High Warlock of Queens." Hazel's golden eyes flared at the complement, her smile softening.

"Hazel, there's another Shadowhunter here." Frank warned as he paused rubbing Hazel's feet through her strappy heels.

"That would be Annabeth Chase." Percy cut in. "She's new to New York, moved here from California. I figured I'd show her some places that Shadowhunters here get information." He leaned back and let his arms rest on top of the booth.

Hazel flicked her golden eyes to Percy. "But you always work alone." It wasn't a question, just fact, if not a little teasing.

"Yeah, well, she's a hell of a fighter."

Hazel's smiled turned a bit wicked, making Percy narrow his eyes. "I want to meet her." She chimed, Percy was going to protest but Frank was already moving through the crowd.

"How's Nico?" Percy asked, softly and carefully. Nico was Hazel's sort-of-brother. If Downworlders had Parabatai they would be it.

"He's fine, even more reclusive than you." She snapped, she rolled her eyes. But the faint smile on her lips showed more towards affection for the two boys than anything else. "Lording over the Queens population of Vampires is a hard job." She offered.

"Tell him I wish him luck." Percy teased with a smile.

That's when Frank came back, a certain blonde in tow.

Frank sat back down, but Hazel didn't offer Annabeth a seat. The blonde just stood there with her arms crossed and a bored look on her face. Hazel took her in, those golden eyes perhaps seeing more than Percy ever could. "You interest me." She mused in the voice of the High Warlock, misty and mysterious. Threatening, but polite.

"I assume you're the reason Percy dragged me here." Annabeth said smoothly, not letting any emotions cross her face. "I'm Annabeth, though you probably already know that."

Hazel hummed, a smile on her face. She leaned forward and crooked her finger. "I know a lot of things. And if something New is in my town, I like to find out about it as soon as possible." She leaned back again, letting her fingers hold her chin as she scanned the Hunter again. "There is not a wolf who trots my streets I do not know, there is not a Child of the Night that hunts in my parks that I do not know of. And more pressing," Her voice was light as a silver blade, "there is not a Nephilim that patrols the city I do not know the history of."

Annabeth had the sense to at least blink at the claim.

Percy held in his chuckle, even as a grin spread on his face. "Annabeth, meet Hazel, the High Warlock of Queens."