7th Circle (Hades Book 1)

by Tate James

  I blew out a long breath and sat down on Chase's plaque. "Yeah, I know. I just... worry."

  Chuckling, he tossed dirt aside into a pile on top of the next grave over. I didn't look to see whose it was because I didn't want to know. Chase hadn’t been the only evil, twisted son of a bitch in the Lockhart family, not by a long shot, and I had no interest in reliving any painful memories of his other relatives.

  "Pretty sure that comes part and parcel with loving someone, boss." Zed gave a lopsided smile, continuing with his digging.

  For a while, neither of us spoke and the only sound was from the thump and scrape of his shovel moving earth from Chase's grave. When he paused for a break an hour into the task, I tried to take over digging. He clung to the shovel with a snarl like it was his favorite chew toy, though, and I rolled my eyes.

  I didn't push the issue that hard, either, because I was hurting. I'd taken a couple of nonprescription painkillers on the drive over but hadn't wanted to impair my reaction time with my prescribed ones in case we ran into trouble. The result, though, was that it'd barely even taken the edge off my pain.

  "This isn't working," I announced after another thirty minutes or so. "We need machinery, or we'll be here all damn night." I scanned the cemetery, thinking. Surely there would be some kind of backhoe to dig new graves.

  "What are you thinking?" Zed asked, swiping sweat and dirt off his face with the hem of his T-shirt.

  "Let's find some help," I told him, pushing to my feet with a groan. "Can you hot-wire heavy machinery, by any chance?"

  He grimaced. "No. But I'm sure we can work something out."

  It took us another ten minutes to find the storage shed for the cemetery caretaker’s equipment. Sure enough, there was a little mechanical digger parked inside, and I gave Zed a wide grin.

  He used his shovel to break the padlock on the big double doors and quickly swept the interior with his gun in hand before nodding to me that it was clear.

  Before we started messing around with amateur hot-wiring of heavy machinery, I figured there was merit in searching for keys first. A caretaker shed in a cemetery didn't seem like the kind of place that went overkill on security or, really, even tried at all. The keys to the digger were hanging on a hook beside an assortment of garden equipment and were even labeled with a tag that read "digger" in case it wasn't easy enough.

  "We're in luck," I told Zed as I held the key up.

  He gave a small whoop of excitement and held his hand up for me to toss them over. He caught them easily, then slid into the driver's seat of the backhoe and fired it up. The heavy, semi-ancient machine chugged and groaned, but fuck it, it worked.

  "Hop up," he said, holding a hand out to me. "Let's get this shit done."

  I took his offer, but as there was only one seat in the machine, I ended up perched on his lap as he drove the old digger back along the path to the Lockhart plot.

  Once there, I jumped off to grab one of the flashlights I'd left on the grass and let Zed get to work. With the help of the backhoe, it was only another half an hour until the bucket scraped something hard.

  I waved my arms at Zed, and he lifted the scoop back out of the hole before shutting the engine off.

  "Jesus," he muttered, standing beside me as I peered down at the dirt-covered coffin six feet below us. "I'll do the rest by hand." He climbed into the hole. "Hand me the shovel?"

  I did as he asked, then crouched on the edge, watching as he cleared dirt away from the top half of the casket, just enough that we might be able to open it, seeing as it was conveniently a split lid.

  "You ready?" he asked, peering up at me with his hand on the edge of the lid.

  I nodded, wordless. I needed to know.

  Zed heaved, but the lid didn't budge.

  "What the shit?" he muttered, annoyed. "Pass me a light? There must be a catch or something."

  I snorted a dark laugh. "To keep the corpse inside if it came back to life? Creepy as hell. Here." I handed a flashlight down to him, and he inspected the side of the coffin.

  He fumbled around and muttered curses for a moment, then all of a sudden, the lid came free in his grip. It was so sudden that Zed lost his balance and fell backward onto his ass, giving me a clear and unobstructed view of the interior.

  My vision swam and my whole damn body went weak with terror. Our plan to collect a DNA sample was pointless. There was no skeleton or decaying corpse inside at all. There was... nothing.

  "Oh shit," Zed breathed, and I couldn't have agreed more.

  33

  The trip home was somber to say the least. We didn't bother filling the grave in again because what was the fucking point? Even if we had, it would have been pretty damn obvious the five year old grave had recently been dug up. But more to the point, Chase wasn't in there. He wasn't in there... which meant he was, what? Still alive? Or just that he was buried elsewhere?

  My head hurt from more than just the mild concussion.

  Pulling my phone out, I brought up my contacts list and found the number for someone who had firsthand experience surviving a supposedly fatal gunshot.

  "Hades," he answered after a couple of moments. "This is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

  I drew a long breath before replying, meeting Zed's worried gaze as he glanced at me. He was driving, and I had the phone on speaker.

  "Steele. You got shot in the chest last year and lived to tell the tale," I said, chewing my thumbnail as I considered my words. "What do you think the odds are of someone surviving a bullet to the head?"

  Max Steele—one of the few people I considered more friend than acquaintance—made a sound like he was thinking. "Like a graze?" he eventually asked. "I know for sure that's possible."

  "No," I replied with a grimace. "I mean a .44 bullet right in the middle of his fucking face, point-blank."

  He huffed a laugh. "Pretty fucking bad, I'd say. His brain would likely resemble scrambled eggs. I got shot in the chest, but it just missed the good shit enough that I could get patched up in surgery. There's not much chance of missing important shit with a bullet to the brain, you know?"

  I let out a long sigh. "Yeah, that's what I thought too." I didn't even know if that's what I wanted to hear or not.

  "What's this about, anyway?" Steele asked. "Or do I not want to know?"

  I exchanged a look with Zed. Should he know? He had been involved in the Timberwolf massacre, after all.

  "You don't want to know," Zed answered for me, sounding grim. "But you might wanna dust off your weapons, just in case."

  Steele scoffed. "As if I let them get dusty." Then he paused, and there was the sound of tapping on a keyboard in the background. "Look, I don't know if this helps, but there has been a recorded case of a woman being shot with a .44 in a drive-by shooting. Somehow, the bullet shattered against her skull, and she barely even needed stitches. So... yeah, I guess it's possible. Likely? Hell no. Impossible? Also no. Nothing is impossible; you guys know that."

  I groaned, rubbing a dirt-covered hand across my forehead. That definitely wasn't what I wanted to hear.

  "Amazing," I muttered, dread rolling through me in waves. "Now would probably be a great time to take a vacation." It was the same advice I'd given Demi, and while I didn't care that much about Steele and his family, I also didn't want to see them dead. They were too useful.

  He just laughed, though. "That's funny. I never knew you were funny, Hades."

  Zed smirked. "It's a new thing apparently."

  "Screw you, Zayden," I snapped, scowling at him. I was quietly pleased at Steele's response, though, given how much assistance I'd provided when his girl was in trouble last year.

  "I've been looking for an excuse to buy new guns," Steele commented, like he was already online, shopping. "Just say the word, and we've got your back."

  I let out a small, silent sigh of relief. We'd teamed up once before to slaughter my whole family and Chase's, and we were one hell of a team.

  "Appreciate it," Zed
replied. "Stay alert around SGPD right now too. They're no longer ours."

  "Damn," Steele muttered, "that was convenient while it lasted."

  "Tell me about it," I said with a sigh. I ended the call and gave Zed a long look. "What are the actual odds that Chase was a one in ten million who could survive a bullet to the face, then manage to crawl out of the Lockhart mansion before it went up in a ball of flame? Then also, somehow, fake his death?"

  Zed grimaced. "Like Steele said, nothing is impossible, right? Someone has to be that point zero one percent case; why not him?"

  I groaned and ran my hands over my face. "Fuck it all to hell and back. I'm so screwed."

  Zed dug his fingers into my knee. "Nope, you're not. We are. What is it that Seph says? Ride or die?"

  I snorted an inappropriate laugh at his attempt to use slang. He wasn't fucking wrong, though; he was my ride or die. Except I had the horrible feeling our ride was just about finished.

  "I'll feel a hell of a lot better when I've got my own eyes on Seph," I admitted, chewing my thumbnail again as I stared out the window. We weren't far from Shadow Grove now, but my anxiety kept building. "This whole thing started when Chase put her in danger."

  Zed gave me a worried look from the corner of his eye, then shook his head. "It started a long time before that, Dare, and you know it. But yeah, I'm worried he'll go for Seph too. Maybe text Cass and check in, but we'll be back in twenty minutes anyway."

  Not wanting to acknowledge his comment, I did as he suggested and shot Cass a message to make sure all was still okay at my apartment building.

  He replied almost immediately with a thumbs up. Yep, man of few words, right there.

  Zed and I drove the rest of the way back in silence, both lost in our own thoughts and haunted by the memories of our past that had been so uncomfortably reawakened.

  I couldn't spot Cass's bike as we pulled into the street outside my building, but that was no great shock. He often stayed out of sight so Seph wouldn't know she was being watched. It saved him the drama of her throwing a temper tantrum that no one trusted her.

  Zed went straight down to my parking level and left his Ferrari in the space I always kept vacant for him. I climbed out of the passenger side with a groan as my stiff, bruised muscles screamed at me.

  "I need a shower," I observed, brushing my dirty hands down the front of my dirtier jeans. Then I quirked a brow at Zed as he came around the car from his side. "Correction, you need a shower. You look like you just..." I trailed off, giving a sharp laugh. "You look like you just dug up a grave."

  Zed chuckled. "How morbid." I started toward the elevators, but he caught my hand in his, pausing me mid-step. "Actually, before we go upstairs there's something I need to say. Something I've been meaning to tell you for a really long time, but I just kept losing my nerve."

  I gave him a confused frown. "Can it wait until we're not covered in grave dirt? Even though there was no corpse in that coffin, I still feel like I smell of death."

  He gave a small headshake. "No, I just... I keep making excuses to myself why I haven't told you, and it's killing me to keep this secret."

  That had me worried. I took a step closer, peering up at him. Conflicted emotions filled his familiar gaze. "Zed, whatever it is, you can tell me. We don't keep secrets from each other, remember? Even if it hurts."

  Honesty, at least between the two of us, was the whole foundation of our friendship. So for him to say he’d been keeping something from me...?

  "Yeah, I remember. That's what makes this worse," he muttered, running a hand over his hair. His gaze left mine, dropping to the floor as he visibly argued with himself over what to say.

  It pained me to see him so twisted up, so I stepped closer still and wrapped my arm around his waist. "I know I've changed a lot since we made those promises, but I'm still me. I'm still Dare, deep down."

  Zed's hand came up to my cheek, gently tilting my face up as he stared down at me. For a tense moment, it almost seemed like he was about to kiss me. For a moment, I wanted him to.

  But then I remembered how Seph had been getting inside my brain lately about me and Zed and how I never, ever wanted to risk our friendship again with misplaced romantic feelings. So I stepped away.

  "What did you want to tell me?" I asked him in a rough voice. Fucking hell, I'd just come so close to screwing up the best relationship I'd ever had.

  Zed gave me a long look, then sighed. "Nothing, it's nothing. Just... I scratched your McLaren when I drove it last month."

  I gaped at him. "What? You drove my McLaren?"

  He winced. "Yeah. Sorry. When you were out of town for that meeting with Ezekiel. My car was getting serviced, and Seph told me to grab one of yours for the day. I couldn't resist."

  "What the shit, Zed?" I exclaimed, stomping over to the car in question, my one stupidly expensive car that I hardly ever drove because I was paranoid about damaging it. Sure enough, there was a white scrape in the front bumper. "You asshole." I swung a punch at his upper arm, and he grunted when it landed.

  "I'm sorry," he said again, "but holy shit, what a dream to drive." His grin was all mischief, and I couldn't even muster the appropriate anger for what he'd done.

  Instead, I just shook my head and stalked past him to the elevators. "You're so fucking dead, Zayden De Rosa," I growled as he followed me inside. "Next time I need to transport a body, I'm doing it in your car."

  He just barked a sharp laugh. "As if you clean up your own bodies. That's cute."

  He continued teasing me about being a princess for not disposing of my kills personally, and I just rolled my eyes and flipped him off when the elevator reached my floor. I only made it a couple of steps more before I froze in panic, though.

  My apartment door—the one secured with biometric locks that could only be opened by Seph or I—stood partially open. Seph would never leave it open. Not even on her most careless of days.

  Zed saw it too, and we both drew our guns as we rushed forward. The inside of the apartment was totally trashed, and I needed to swallow heavily to smother the scream of panic welling up inside me.

  "Seph!" I called out, my eyes sharp on every possible hiding place. "Seph, are you here?"

  Zed motioned to me, and I moved over to where he stood near the kitchen. Smashed glass was all over the place and my furniture was a mess like there had been a huge fight. The blood he was pointing to suggested the same damn thing.

  "Shit," I breathed, terror taking hold. "Seph? Seph, answer me!"

  I raced through to her room, searching for any sign of her, but found it totally empty.

  "No, no, no," I chanted, tossing my gun down on the bed and pulling out my phone. I called her number first, but the sound of her phone peeled out of the living room.

  With my panic reaching epic proportions, I dialed Cass.

  "Red," he answered, his voice a low drawl. "What's up?"

  "Where are you?" I demanded, not even trying to hide the fear in my voice. "Where's Seph? You were supposed to be watching her, Cass! I trusted you to keep her safe!"

  "Whoa, what?" His gravelly voice kicked up a notch at my accusation. "She's right here; I'm staring right at her. What the hell is going on?"

  My heart stopped a second, then beat twice as fast as those words sunk in and confused the fuck out of me.

  "Here where? Where are you?"

  He made a sound like he was walking while he spoke to me. "The frozen yogurt shop down the street. Apparently, she needed sugar for her period or some shit."

  I swallowed heavily, my free hand balled into a fist as my eyes surveyed the mess in my home. "Put her on, Cass. Put her on the phone."

  "Two seconds," he replied, and the sound of his boots on the pavement traveled down the phone, followed by the chime of a shop door opening.

  Then came the best sound I'd ever heard in my entire damn life. "Dare? What's up? Cass looks like he's ready to murder something."

  I needed to take a few breaths as I processed t
he fact that she was okay. She was safe. Cass had her right there with him.

  "N-nothing," I lied, relief washing over me so hard I almost fell. "Nothing. Sorry, brat. I just... I was worried. It's pretty late for a yogurt run." Obviously Seph would see the break in when she got back, but there was no sense in panicking her now that I knew she was safe.

  I made my way back down the hall to tell Zed that she was safe as she replied, "Yeah, well, my period cramps were making me all bitchy and crap. I figured I'd be back before you and you wouldn't know... Are you super pissed?" She sounded guilty as hell, like she expected me to go batshit on her ass. But she was eighteen; if she wanted to go for a late-night frozen yogurt run, she could.

  "Pissed? No, why?"

  "Boss!" Zed shouted. "Come and see this!" He was in my bedroom, staring down at something on my bed.

  Please don't be body parts.

  I moved closer, desperate to see what it was, and was instantly relieved not to find my sister's severed head on my quilt, even if I was on the phone with her. Instead, it was a note, and on top of that note was a diamond engagement ring.

  "Uh, I dunno," Seph was saying in my ear with a nervous laugh. "Maybe because I left Lucas there while I went out? I know how you feel about security and shit, but, like, I've only been gone ten minutes, max. And you seemed cool with him coming over the other day, so..."

  No. No, no, no! The blood in the living room… it was Lucas’s blood.

  Whatever else my sister said faded into obscurity as my eyes scanned the note under the engagement ring. The hauntingly familiar engagement ring.

  What's yours is mine, Darling girl. Til death.

  To Be Continued...

  COMING MARCH 26TH, 2021

  BOOKS2READ.COM/HADES2

  Five years ago, I made a choice that I haven’t regretted a day since. I protected the single most important person in my world, my little sister. I protected myself, and I seized control of the Tri-state Timberwolves.