Hades (Contemporary Mythos Book 1)

by Carly Spade

  “Can I stay here forever?” I mumbled, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight of sand, water, and mountains.

  She hugged my shoulders from behind and let out a squeal before wheeling away her suitcase.

  There were two queen-sized beds with white and pale blue striped comforters and enough throw pillows to outfit an army. Everything looked so pristine, I was afraid to touch it.

  “Get that bikini on girly. There’s so much more to see of this place.” Sara yanked her black and white swimsuit from her case.

  As I neared the beachside window, I closed my eyes, letting the wind tussle my hair. The sun was warm and inviting, like a heated blanket. The smell of salt and olives permeated the air. For the first time in a while, I felt the tension melt away like a gooey marshmallow.

  “You brought the one-piece?” Sara asked.

  I turned to see her holding up my swimsuits. She held the one-piece with two fingers as if it were a slimy piece of garbage. I reached for it, but she pulled it away.

  “I’m not wearing that bikini. It barely covers my…essentials.”

  “That’s kind of the point, Steph. You have a rocking bod, what are you afraid of?”

  I scanned her string bikini. She frequented the gym. Between that and her profession, everything was toned, tight, and in top form. On the other hand, I spent most of my time glued to a desk, and had a bit of pudge I couldn’t get rid of. Enough that it made me self-conscious.

  “I’ll think about wearing the bikini tomorrow. Deal?” I held my hand out for the one-piece.

  She rolled her eyes before slapping it into my hand. “Fine. At least you brought it. Hurry up.”

  Stepping into the bathroom, my feet pressed against the coolness of white engraved tiles, all fixtures made of gray and white marble. I slipped into the suit, pausing to look at myself in the mirror. Turning my back to it, I eyed the white anchor positioned right above my butt. I didn’t see anything wrong with this suit. It still clung to every curve and had a cute nautical theme.

  “Stop judging yourself in the mirror, Steph. Let’s go!” Sara yelled at me through the door.

  The resort had several pools, but only one of them had the swim-up bar she’d been going on about. In the center was the bar with a circular white roof that stretched far enough for shade. There were stools inside the water around the perimeter, all of them occupied. There were so many people in the pool, they were bumping elbows. I reached for my dress pocket and grimaced. No pockets meant no Tums.

  “Hey, you go ahead, Sara. I’m going to grab a drink from the other bar.”

  The one with a single customer.

  She cocked an eyebrow. “They serve the same stuff, I’m sure.”

  “True. This one has more…breathing room?”

  She smiled. “Say no more. Come on in when you’re ready. I’m sure I’ll have new friends to introduce to you at that point.”

  She wasn’t kidding. The woman’s social skills were like watching a choreographed dance routine. Mine was more like a stand-up comedy headed by Ben Stein.

  “Will do.” I took a seat at the bar, making sure to keep several stools between the male patron and me.

  “Kalimera,” the bartender greeted.

  I smiled. “Hello.”

  The bartender slapped a cocktail napkin in front of me. “What can I get you?” He asked, his voice laced with a Greek accent.

  “I hadn’t gotten that far yet. Hmm. Mai tai?” I tapped my finger against my lips. “No. Strawberry daiquiri. Or maybe…”

  “You look like a piña colada kind of woman,” the tender said with a sparkling grin that made my cheeks blush.

  “Yes. Perfect. Thank you.” I drummed my hands on the bar top, turning in my stool to take in the scenery.

  A mysterious black cloud of fog-like smoke seeped around my feet. I furrowed my brow, following its trail. It flowed from the man sitting near me. Colors of dirty gray and varying shades of brown skirted over his arms. He had both hands wrapped around his tumbler of amber-colored liquid. His head held low, causing his chin-length dirty blonde hair to shield his face. He was dressed in head-to-toe black in a button-up short-sleeved shirt and pants, like Johnny Cash going to the beach. A hint of a tattoo peeked out from his sleeve.

  He caught sight of me staring, and the fog sucked in, disappearing as if it’d never been there at all. Maybe it hadn’t.

  “Here you are, miss,” the bartender said, snapping me back to reality and making me jump. He snickered. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I wrapped my hand around the tall glass and pulled it toward me. Not used to the lack of an eye shield from my glasses, I almost poked my eye with the straw. “It’s no big deal. I’m just a skittish ninny.”

  The look he gave me was well deserved. I was sure the last time I’d heard the word “ninny” was from my great-grandma. Food needed to go in my mouth pronto to shut myself up. The glass had a decorated stick complete with an orange and pineapple slice. I opted for the pineapple, brought it to my lips, and winced when cold liquid pooled in my lap.

  Lovely. A piña colada stain. Precisely what my ensemble was missing.

  I stood on the rung of my stool and reached for napkins near Johnny Cash. Our hands brushed as I pulled the napkin away. A dozen indecipherable whispers flooded my ears, blocking out the sounds from the pool, the birds, everything else around me. I froze mid-sit.

  His chin lifted, revealing eyes that matched the color of his whiskey, squared jawline sprinkled with a light beard, slanted straight nose, and thin lips.

  “Sorry,” I stuttered. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  Okay. I really was a ninny.

  I sat back down and furiously dabbed at the stain.

  He didn’t respond and only moved so much as to finish the contents of his drink.

  “Another whiskey?” The tender asked him.

  “Mhm,” he said, sliding the glass across the bar.

  Convinced the stain would remain a stain, I balled the napkin in my palm. “So, uh, whiskey your drink of choice?” Heat flowed up my neck.

  He slowly turned to look at me with a cock of his head. He smirked, and a small dimple formed at the corner of his mouth. “Listen, darlin’. I want to be left alone.”

  A southern accent. I was not expecting that.

  “A resort with hundreds of people doesn’t seem quite the best place to be alone.” I stirred my drink, unable to take my eyes off him.

  The bartender returned with his drink, and Johnny brought it to his lips, pausing before taking a sip. He peered at me through the strands of his hair that’d fallen over his gaze. “This place relaxes me,” he said in a clipped tone.

  His hair gave him a further sense of mystery, disguising the furrow in his brow, and the intent in his eyes.

  “I hear the spa is pretty relaxing. Though I wouldn’t know, considering I’ve never been to one.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the bar top.

  His jaw clenched, popping at the corners. “The spa doesn’t serve whiskey.” He shook the glass in his hand, making the ice cubes clank, before taking a sip.

  My God. Sawyer from the show Lost. He looked. Like. Sawyer. My stomach tightened. I concentrated my stare on my drink instead. “For being in paradise, you’re awfully grumpy.”

  He turned his chin, dropping his eyes to scan over my bare legs before catching my gaze unabashedly. “I reckon I’ve got a lot to be grumpy about.”

  “Try me.” I sat up straighter.

  He sighed, setting the glass down on the bar top. “My wife of over a thousand years left me for another man. A lesser man.”

  “I had a relationship that felt that long once.” I snorted. “But a thousand years? Wow. Tainted Love?”

  He glared at me. “What?”

  “Tainted Love.”

  Silence.

  “It’s a song by Soft Cell?”

  His scowl deepened.

  I gulped, tapping my finger against my thigh. “Well, I’m so
rry to hear that.” I should’ve stopped at that point, but something in my gut wouldn’t let me. “What’s your name?”

  He took a long swig of his drink. “Hades.” He said it so simply. Like he told me his name was Bob.

  “Hades? You were named after the god of the Underworld?” I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

  “One and only.”

  “Wow. Your parents were a little cruel, huh?”

  A fire lit in his eyes when he looked at me, the tiniest of smirks creasing into the corner of his lips. “You have no idea.”

  My heart thumped against my chest, his stare turning my stomach into a series of knots.

  “You seem nervous.” The smirk continued as he squinted at me over the rim of his glass.

  I gulped. “Nervous? What reason would I have to be nervous?”

  He dragged a hand through his hair, and I bit back a whimper. “I don’t know, but your chest is getting all splotchy.” He pointed.

  Slapping my hands over my chest, I hopped off my stool. “Well, I’ll uh—leave you alone. Enjoy your whiskey.”

  I turned to walk away, but a string from my coverup caught on the stool, yanking me back.

  Hades leaned forward with the ease of a jaguar and plucked the string free. “I didn’t get your name.”

  “Steph. Stephanie.”

  He stared at me for a moment before smirking. He tipped the glass. “I’ll be seein’ ya…Stephanie.” He enunciated the last part of my name with extra emphasis.

  I bunched my coverup near my neck, and after one last moment of staring at him, I turned away.

  The crowd in the swim-up bar had thinned out. Sara’s infectious laugh echoed through the open space. It never failed to put a smile on my face. I waded over to her with the remainder of my drink in hand.

  “Well, hey there. Who was that guy you were talking to?” Sara asked, chewing on her straw.

  I risked a glance over my shoulder, looking at the empty stools of the bar. He was gone. A peculiar disappointment washed over me. “Oh, just a guy who calls himself Hades.”

  “Hades? Is it a nickname, or does he truly think he’s some kind of Greek god? I’ve met plenty of men with that complex.”

  “Does it matter? I came here to have fun and relax with my best friend. Not hook up with a random stranger.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She asked, right as two men walked up.

  “A whiskey Coke and a gin and tonic,” one man ordered. He had blonde hair cropped short with a thin, but toned physique. His accent sounded American. Mid-west maybe?

  “See something you like?” The blonde man said, making me choke on my drink.

  Every time I was out in public, I tended to people watch, profile them. It was par for the course with my profession. I was always trying to figure out people’s dirty laundry. I scanned his arms, noting a maple leaf tattoo with swirling patterns intertwined.

  “I was just looking at your tattoo. Any symbolic meaning?” I didn’t move my eyes from his and attempted to fish for the straw with my mouth, missing it twice.

  He looked down at his bicep and patted the tattoo, smiling brightly. “A patriotic symbol for my country is all.”

  Sara snapped her fingers. “Canadian. I thought I recognized the accent. We’re close to your border. Chicago.”

  We lived in a town called Des Plaines, but it was easier to say Chicago. Close enough and widely known.

  Sara leaned past me, extending her hand. “I’m Sara. And this here is Stephanie.”

  There she went being all social.

  The blonde chuckled and shook her hand. “I’m Keith, and this is Guy.” Guy sounded more like ‘Gee’. “We’re from around Ontario.”

  “Chicago, huh? I’ve always wanted to go there,” Guy said, moving through the water to get closer to Sara. He was the polar opposite of Keith. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a deeply tanned complexion. His hair was long but pulled into a tight bun at the base of his neck.

  “Oh? What part of the city interests you the most?” Sara asked, turning on her stool to face him.

  “Are you two here together?” Keith asked.

  “Yup.” I took a sip of my drink. “As friends. I mean, we’re not—not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just didn’t want you to assume—”

  He lifted his aviator sunglasses onto his head, nestling them within the blonde spikes. “Well, good. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on any toes.” He smiled wide. “What are you drinking?”

  “Piña colada.” I rested the empty cup on the bar top while Keith flagged down the tender. My eyes betrayed me, looking at the bar for Hades again.

  His smile deepened as he handed me another cup of coconut bliss. “Love the anchor on your suit there.”

  “The what?” Right. The anchor. I gave a nervous chuckle. “Thanks.”

  He bit down on his lower lip, letting his gaze rest on my nether regions longer than necessary. “So, what do you do for a living?” He breached my invisible shield, shifting himself closer.

  I leaned back. “I’m a digital forensics examiner for the state police.”

  His brows rose. “Can’t say I know what the hell that even is. Sorry.” He laughed.

  “It’s forensics. Just the digital side of it. Computers and such. No stepping over dead bodies or studying blood spray patterns.”

  He stared at me, nodding.

  I smirked. “I hack things.” Hacking was not part of my job in the least, but the media had glorified it. It was the one area of cybersecurity I knew people were familiar with.

  His eyes widened. “Oh, wow! That’s awesome. What’s been your biggest case?”

  The Fueller case. I’d managed to forget about it. I gulped down my drink, hoping it would help flee it away from my thoughts.

  “We’re going to be late for scuba diving if we don’t haul ass, Keith-ster.” Guy slapped Keith on the back.

  “Hey, it was great talking to you. We’re only here all week, so I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” Keith smiled, slipping his aviators onto his face.

  My knee bounced underwater, and I offered a weak grin. Mrs. Conroy’s sad face loomed over me like a raincloud.

  “Guy seemed nice enough,” Sara said, tapping her fingernail against her cup.

  “Uh, huh,” I muttered.

  “Hey.” She turned my chin to look at her. “Time for a toast.”

  She always knew how to snap me out of it.

  “What are we toasting?” I asked.

  “To meeting the god of the Underworld.”

  I burst into laughter. “To Hades.”

  We tapped our cups together.

  We were up at the crack of dawn the next day because neither of us could sleep. We could rest when we were dead. Paradise called. Sara convinced me to wear my cranberry-colored bikini, but I insisted on a swim coverup for our walk to the pool. And had every intention of wearing it the entire time. Like a passing shadow, Hades slipped onto the same stool he sat on yesterday, at the same bar, dressed in the same clothes. I couldn’t look away. An older woman dressed in a resort uniform was talking to him. She flailed her hands around, her jaw quivering like she was about to cry.

  He held his head low, nodding as the woman spoke. If I had a nickel for every time I wished I could read lips. She slapped her palm onto the bar top. He slid his hand over hers, and she closed her eyes. Her body relaxed, and he slipped his hand away. The woman laughed and kissed his forehead before walking away.

  “Why don’t you meet me by the pool?” Sara asked.

  “Hm, what?”

  She jutted her chin at Hades. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that’s the guy who calls himself Hades?”

  I played with one of the rhinestones on the side of my sunglasses. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “Take as much time as you want. I’ll probably fall asleep by the pool anyway.” She grinned and patted my shoulder.

  The blackness still loomed over him, but unlike yesterday, bursts of
pastel colors appeared as if trying to break through. Those bursts are what piqued my interest and wouldn’t let me turn away.

  I leaned next to him. We were the only ones at the bar, which wasn’t surprising considering how early it was. “I didn’t peg you for the older woman type.”

  He eyed me sidelong. “I wasn’t courtin’ that woman. And she’s not older. She’s an infant by comparison.”

  “Courting? My, my, how formal.” The bartender rested a tumbler in front of him with the same brown liquid as yesterday. “An infant through wisdom or something?”

  He licked his lips. “Sure.”

  I sniffed the tumbler. “It’s five o’clock, somewhere, right?”

  “What else would I be doing?” He kept his eyes trained forward.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Soaking up the sun by the pool? Dragging your toes through the sand on the beach? Falling into a tourist trap?”

  He turned his head, moving his face near mine. “You can’t drink all day if you don’t start early, sweetheart.” He tipped the glass.

  My stomach flipped. He smelled like burning wood and a recently extinguished flame. The scent that permeated the air after blowing out birthday candles. I flagged the bartender. “Mimosa, please.”

  “Mm,” Hades purred. “I didn’t peg you for the type to indulge in early morning sins.”

  “I’m on vacation. I’d never do this normally, so I figured…when in Rome, right?” I lifted the glass to my lips. “I mean—I know we’re not in Rome.”

  “Why do you insist on doing this?” He asked, turning his body to face me.

  A dribble of sweet, bubbly juice escaped the corner of my mouth, and I wiped it away with my finger. “Doing what?” Noticing his close proximity made my chest tighten.

  “Talkin’ to me despite my being explicitly clear, I had no interest in your company. In fact, I’ve been pretty rude.”