by Elena Monroe
Right now, I hated her, at least in public. At night, alone in my bedroom, I loved every inch of her that I never had the pleasure of seeing.
The back of Bolton’s hand slapped my shoulder. “You hear me?”
I craned my neck, glaring at him behind me. He knew better than to touch me, so I made the playing field even with stupidity.
“I heard you. Why? It’s not Wednesday.”
“Keep your voice down. I’ll explain later.”
“I’m not your slave, Bolton. You can’t snap, and I’ll do whatever you want. You aren’t a king here.” Everything in me was cruel, cold, harsh.
This was how I had to be when she was around; it was the only way I could be around her with melting into the other extreme.
Bolton retorted, because he couldn’t not talk back, “Well, fuck me. Someone piss in your lemonade?”
I got up flinging my bag over my shoulder, even more pissed off than I was when he disrupted my gaze. I wanted to set him on fire. I wanted to hang him up by his ankles and watch him sweat, watch him panic, and only feel satisfied when I could finally smell the sour smell of burned flesh.
Extremes.
Luna had missed curfew last night for the third time in the past couple of months. Every time she broke a rule, I felt it in my fragile, teenager bones.
The first time she skipped curfew I heard about it after the fact from Arianna when she asked if we finally hooked up.
Arianna asked me like she had known me my whole life and was counting down the days until I broke for Luna. She had known me my whole life, but we weren’t ever friendly like we are now.
Bolton was the only one with memories. Mine were fragments, shards, too vague to tell me anything except I was created out of evil and Arianna was my mortal enemy in Olympus.
One memory kept playing on a loop at night when I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t be bothered to do anything else.
Arianna handed me a lightning bolt necklace in a field of flowers. A single tear rolled down her face, “Are you happy now?”
I stood there silently, not sure what to do or say. Arianna was handing me the piece of her father and asking me if I was happy about it.
“You’re two halves of what drives people mad: death and sexuality.”
I touched her hand enough to close her palm around the delicate lightning bolt. “His lightning isn’t lost. It’s with you now. You transform, evolve, while I stay stuck between death and sexuality.”
The half memory fades there, just enough to make me want more but enough to be satisfying. I started getting these pieces back when Arianna stepped foot here.
I kept them to myself, not even bothering to share them with Bolton. He already had too much power after claiming himself king while we were mortal.
In Olympus, we were all made up of the same shit that made our gods, all ruled by Zeus, all with powerful parents. We all had vengeances or moral dilemmas to right of our own. Bolton was one of us, just more willing to steer the motivation.
Study hall didn’t count as a class, and you wouldn’t ever find me there. It was a waste of my time. I texted, hoping my guy would hook me up with some bud, nothing much, but enough to take off the edge. I was wound up so tightly I felt like a knot.
Nothing else was an option with extremes making up my own personality. I either wanted to fuck or kill. With Luna off-limits, I was down to killing, and that would put a dent in our plan to go home.
The gods would smite us by making it an unbearable loophole: kill someone for fun, and be stuck like this forever.
No thanks.
I preferred using my strengths, not hiding who I was just because the mortals may panic, and not being limited by this mortal body. All it did was hold me back and shit the bed when I needed it most.
I was a fucking god back home—the son of Hades and Persephone, created from jealousy and revenge, forever balancing death and sexuality.
Our abilities weren’t meant to be bottled up by flesh and bones.
Luna texted me: Are you okay? You didn’t finish lunch.
She always knew when someone was fighting their way through emotions, and nothing pissed me off more than her caring when I couldn’t.
I snapped when I texted her back: I’m not hungry, Luna. You’ve missed curfew a few times now. You don’t see me asking about it.
I could see her small, innocent, freckled features morph into worry even more, while reading my message. I didn’t expect her to text back when my phone light up with the please be patient bubbles.
Luna: Don’t pretend you don’t watch me, Nyx. You always know where I am.
Pushing the earbuds into my ears, I already pressed play on the heavy rock coming through. I was silencing the world with the press of a button, and soon enough, I would silence my feelings the same way.
Me: I’m not pretending, Luna. There is an open invitation to come sit on this dick. You’re too selfless to make yourself feel good.
Luna: Selfless? More like dangerous. You’re a natural disaster. You’ll rock things loose that I can’t part with yet.
I didn’t bother texting her back. She was right about me. I was a hurricane to Luna, destroying her as she knew it and leaving her to rebuild into something new. Something she didn’t ask to be… or want to be.
There goes that sexuality or death mentality.
Blowing off my steam with some “medicinal” exhales left me feeling like putty on my bed. I didn't realize I fell asleep, until Bolton was kicking the frame of my bed, hoping I'd wake up. “We’re in season, you know not to smoke that shit. We can get tested at any time.”
I followed his eyes on the makeshift ashtray from an old book I gutted with what was left of my joint, just the ass, the roach. I didn't let any go to waste.
“Sure, Bolton. I'll be okay not being associated with losing the way we are this year.” I sat up, wondering what time it was and looking for my phone in my sheets as he scolded me silently. “Library in 20, Nyx. Don't make me come find you.”
Bolton was demanding, full of himself, and honestly, the biggest pain in my ass. He told me back home we were friends too, but that it was hard to believe I'd put up with him for an entire immortal life.
The only redeeming thing about these meetings was everyone wanting to hear themselves so much that me being silent went unnoticed. This was a smaller meeting, so I didn't know what to expect. If Bolton was having doubts, he didn't share them with me.
I was in the hallway against the railing before Bolton was out of his room. “I'm gonna assume she's learning quick?”
He shrugged. “Not quick enough. She still has no memories. Just nightmares.”
“What do you expect when dating you?” My voice cracked into a laugh before it could go up at the end.
The library was the only place on campus our keycard worked 24/7. My wheels turned, wondering where Luna went. I watched her closely, but I never followed. I wasn't ready to die that kind of death by stalking my prey.
Luna was already standing on the steps, shivering and waiting by Arianna’s side. I shrugged off my jacket without thinking twice. Walking past Luna, so she couldn't refuse to my face, I lightly placed it over her shoulders before I followed behind Bolton to the keypad.
I already knew we were headed upstairs. Bolton hated the obvious, and pushing Kate into complaining more was a past time we all participated in.
“What is this even about? We couldn't do this downstairs?” Kate’s complaining always came with a bit of whining and some hopeless huffing. We were all used to it.
Bolton barked out behind him, “I’m not doing this in the open.”
Now I was intrigued. Something was wrong, and it demanded privacy.
Bolton thumbed the spines of the old books that were off limits, when all of a sudden we heard gears.
Everything sounded louder in the dark.
The bookcase against the wall shifted, creating an opening I had never seen before and didn't know existed. I wasn't frequently in
the library often enough to even know the second level was this big. I preferred firsthand experiences, not reading about them in books.
Luna went to sacrifice herself by stepping into the opening first, but my fingers wrapped around her wrist, drawing her back from volunteering. Bolton wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone, but I also wasn't taking that chance with Luna.
After everyone slipped through the opening, I took a closer look, “Stop throwing yourself on the damn cross and making me save you.”
Reaching out my hand, I waited for her to take mine, while I stood in the catacombs of our school with only our phone’s glow bouncing off the walls.
When she was safely through the gap, she pushed my hand away, “That's the difference between you and me. I'll die for someone else, but you'll kill.”
I didn't let our differences stop my arm from landing across her shoulders and protecting her as Bolton lead us down a long hall, which led to a large room, that had smaller hallways breaking off like veins, like lightning.
Once we all gathered up in the room, I heard footsteps coming towards us. I shifted myself in front of Luna, protecting her, tensing.
Caellum smirked at the room, like he knew no one could really cut him out of their lives for too long.
“Miss me, fuckers?”
“What the fuck is he doing here, Bolton?”
He didn't even let us adjust to the new surroundings when he dove right in, “Stand down, killer. We need all the allies we can get. Alba was hiding Arianna’s real file.”
Alba? Our mentor? Our friend? The keeper of the balance and virtue? He can’t mean the one man I trust in this mortal world, in this prison.
Kate was a walking eye roll and sarcastic tone, “And? I need more theories than accusations, Bolton.”
The clash between these two titans made me want to exit stage left and watch the show from a safe spot.
Arianna’s questioning voice, still confused and new to this asked, “Which sign is he again?”
Her dumbass question triggered a response I knew would set Bolton off when I looked at her truly spent. “Have you even been studying? Bolton is trying to give you as much time as possible before the ritual to remember, but you're wasting it. On what? Making out? We’re all riding on you catching up faster.”
Bolton was standing up straighter, and I knew this would end in blows if we argued. Considering he had no abilities; winning was rarely fair.
Luna frowned in my direction as she pushed her arms inside my jacket. I hoped it smelled like her when she was done. “He’s a Virgo. Give her a break. It’s a lot to take in.”
“It’s her history, origin. It shouldn’t be this hard to keep up, unless you aren’t Sag. We haven’t witnessed her do anything.”
Only in my fragmented memories.
Arianna was the most quiet I had ever seen her, silent, chewing her lips off. I sauntered towards her, only stopping in front of her to leave a few inches, “I don’t have to trust you. I’ve killed enough people that adding you to the body count won't affect me at all. It might break Bolton’s little black heart, though…”
I was pushing her into admitting she wasn’t who we were looking for or at least proving she was trying to care, learn, be part of the circle for once, instead of always being the one lost.
It had been a few times that the sign we needed to complete the circle wasn’t hers. Rare, but that dumbass Leo got sacrificed once and cried the whole time. He was dramatic, and thankfully the gods spared us that nightmare again.
I watched her lip biting become more aggressive, and her lips became a cherry color inside of the flesh tone pink they normally were.
Bolton shouted enough from his fake throne, sitting on some table, always perched above us, just to make sure there was no confusion.
I kept pushing her to show her true self or opt out of dying for no good reason, “Just admit it, Arianna: You aren’t one of us. You’re just a kid whose parents got sick of you making trouble, and instead of being comfortable being an outcast, you clung onto this absurd notion you’re the daughter of Zeus, all because your vagina reacts to Bolton.”
And just like that she came alive.
“Just stop it, Nyx! I didn’t ask to be this different. I didn’t ask for parents like this, and I didn’t ask to be your damn sacrificial lamb! Fuck!”
I watched her come undone, and a wall of tears glazed her irises in a thick fog. You could still see the flecks of purple matching her hair. I twisted around, bored with being this close to someone about to cry. Luna could tag in when they started to fall, the nurturer.
“Are you happy now?”
I stopped dead in my tracks, and my eyelids went half-mast, trying to discern if I heard her right. I heard the same phrase she barked at me in my memory when her father died.
Slowly turning back around to face her, I examined her face, features, anything that would confirm this was a memory and not some nightmare I created.
“So you do remember. You just didn’t tell Bolton.”
I don’t know when Bolton jumped down from his throne and breezed over to my side, but I could see him out of my peripheral vision, looking tense. “Remember what, exactly?” The worry was apparent in his voice, but it went ignored.
The room faded out, and the focus was lodged between us, blocking everything else out.
She looked at me through a heavy sheet of tears obstructing her vision as she shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s just nightmares so far; I don’t know what’s real.”
I didn’t need to see her abilities or hear anymore. I knew we shared a memory and that was enough for me. I had fragments floating in my head at night and none of them were of Luna.
I had no validation for how protective I felt of her, but Arianna lived in my head in a way I knew we must have been friends at some point, which was more than I could say for anyone else in the circle.
“I’m the son of Hades. Of course, I’m a nightmare, but it doesn’t mean our memories aren’t real. Pretty sure the scar on my shoulder is from you.”
My cut shirt left openings in the side that showed off the sides of my body easily. I could have been shirtless and showing almost as much. I ran hot, at a boiling, at all times, making my attire justified. I pulled the material towards my neck exposing my shoulder blade to show her my scar patterned after a strike of lightning.
I felt her cold fingertips brush against the embossed skin, no longer flush and taut like the rest of me, with tingling I knew to be the thunder that came before lightning. It made me jump, realizing she was touching me—someone who wasn’t Luna, my Luna.
“This is a cute reunion and all…” Bolton’s strained voice was obvious. He didn’t like this connection he didn’t seem privy to.
I let my shirt settle back over my shoulder, covering up a scar I now knew came from Arianna. I just didn’t know how or why yet. We weren’t supposed to be able to hurt each other, yet I had a scar branching over the back of my shoulder. I had to regain composure and focus on why we were here: someone’s betrayal.
Creating space between Arianna and I, I found a wall to lean against on the other side of the room. “Cut to the chase, Bolton.”
Luna’s eyes caught mine with not worry or empathy, but something I didn’t know she felt. It was too selfish of an emotion for her to wear: jealousy. She was jealous I had a tie to Arianna, even though we didn’t know what that tie was.
“Alba is working with Cheyanne. I don’t know what their plan is. Something is shady. They’re both hiding shit from us.”
Cheyanne? Probably.
Alba? Doubtable.
Kate yawned loudly on purpose to make her point. “Was that really cutting to the chase, if you didn’t know anything?”
“I think they’re sabotaging the ritual. Cheyanne knows she has Henry Jon’s journal. She freaked out in my room asking me if she has the husk and if we can trust Ari.”
I wanted to say, “Maybe we can’t,” after reevaluating
my scar and the tingling in her fingertips that didn’t seem to go away—a permanent itch to leave her mark on the world.
Luna’s eyes kept pressuring me to hold her stare, to say something, to do something that made her feel better than the jealousy running its course.
She was asking me permission to be selfish. Who was I to deny her? I laced my fingers with hers lazily, not committed or caring, but on the inside, I felt more alive than I ever had.
Luna wanted to be selfish… with me.
Bolton
Trying to explain betrayal in a room full of just that had me reeling, but the ritual was around the corner. This couldn’t wait any longer.
Nyx staring into Arianna like he knew her better than I did wasn’t going to blow over any time soon.
Cheyanne was hellbent on using the full moon, which just happened to be the same day as the fucking Harvest Dance.
The Harvest Dance was an old tradition passed down from the early 1400’s, that the mortal world took less seriously now by making it a high school dance theme. Settlers who believed if they celebrated the harvest being planted it would bear more fruit.
All the fruit that high schoolers wanted was someone to spike the punch, get laid, and freedom.
At least we agreed on the freedom.
Cheyanne didn’t have to convince us; we all knew the significance of the moon and stars. After all, it was what we were made of.
The first time we were set free to bring balance to the mortal world was the 1600’s, in Henry Jon’s corner of the world, at the same time they were celebrating their own harvest. We knew we needed to influence the town and the people, bring forth new ideas, and propel the mortals forward without their belief in the gods anymore. They had a new God, singular, and none of their new religion involved Zeus or the stars writing their fates. This God was absolute and died for them in an ultimate sacrifice, which we hadn’t done, so our gods were cast aside.
I didn’t expect the mortal world to capture my attention so much. That was the first time I met Arianna, except her name was Rosalia then. She was the only person in that small town who treated us as equals, instead of as the children of God's enemy—someone named the Devil.