by elda lore
“What’s wrong?” Hades asked me as my mind drifted and I stared at the charm. I attempted to remove the bangle and found it too tight. My expression must have altered from amazement to trouble. Suddenly, my breath caught. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. I gawked at the butterfly, beautiful and trapped, tethered to the bangle as a bond. I reached for the silver ring and struggled to pull in over my hand.
“What’s wrong?” He repeated, distress filling his voice.
“I can’t get this off.” A fever of exasperated emotion rose within me. I didn’t want to take things from him, despite his kindness and good intentions. I had to get out of this place. I had to get home. I struggled with the bangle that would not spread over the expanse of my hand although only moments ago it slipped easy to my wrist.
“Keep it on. It’s for you.” Tenderness filled his words and that devilishly tempting curve graced his lips. He was pleased at the gift, but I did not want to please him. My fingers wrapped around the jewelry and tugged, afraid to crush the butterfly fluttering and flapping like a caged bird.
“I can’t.” Distressed, the poor creature beat against my wrist. “I’m frightening it. Help me take it off.”
Hades’ fingers captured mine, forcing the struggling hand to release the one surrounded with the bracelet. The thick pad of his thumb rubbed soothing circles over the back of my hand. My arm relaxed and my breathing calmed.
“Keep the bracelet. I want you to have it.” One flutter. One twitch. The strange butterfly’s wings stilled.
“I’ll crush it if I wear this.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” he assured, still wearing a growing grin on his face.
“I don’t need all these things.” My irritation irrationally grew when he tried to be kind. “I’m not staying here.” My chin rose in defiance.
“Is that so?” His lip curled further, and that damn scar spread, enticing me. He was strangely attractive with those big blue eyes and charcoal lashes.
“Yes. You can’t keep me here.”
“We’ll see,” he teased.
“I’ll find a way out of here.”
“Just try to escape. I’ll hunt you down.” His tone turned serious. His eyes narrowed, the icy blue of upset growing in them. I tugged my hand from his grasp and spun toward the mirror.
“I don’t want any of these things,” I snapped. “I have no need for these...” I waved dismissively at the rack of clothes and the chest of feminine items.
“I was hoping to make you comfortable.” His brow furrowed in the reflection of the mirror.
“I don’t want to be comfortable. I want to go home.” My foot twitched to stomp like a petulant child, but I held firm. Ignoring my plea, he snipped back at me.
“I was trying to be…nice.” The word sounded wrong on his lips and the twist he gave them proved his discomfort with the term.
“Well, I don’t want you to be nice to me, either.” My voice grew louder. My hands fisting at my side as I glared at him through the reflection. One hand combed through the length of his jet black mop then brushed upward making it stand out like his bird’s ruffled feathers.
“Just leave me alone,” I growled.
“Fine,” he snapped. My head shot up at the sharp tone of his voice. He spun on his booted heels and stomped out of the dressing room. Within seconds, I heard the hard slam of his door and I collapsed to the floor in tears.
Time
[Hades]
I paced outside my room before giving in to frustration and heading to Elysium. An island-like area inside a huge cavern, it was surrounded by dark water, joined to the mainland by a wooden bridge. Radicals was the name of the club I sought. Tiki-like in structure, the inside reminded me of the bar in Casablanca. Piano sounds and saxophone whines mixed with the conversations of intellects. Within the underworld, those of past importance found the island for comfort and camaraderie. As prince, I found equals of academics and athletics on the island. I made my way to Radicals to release my irritation. I stomped the connecting wooden deck, drawn to the jazzy beat seeping outward from my favorite haunt. This club hosted a younger crowd. Uncertain if I strived for a brisk fight, a deep conversation, or a female companion, I knew any of my needs could be met here. Anything to take my mind off the ornery girl in my room who refused my generosity was welcome.
“What’s wrong, Prince?” Rhad, the bartender and owner, asked me as I strut into the low, thumping club. The curly haired, former surfer and scholar smiled cheekily at me, as if he knew my secret. A bluesy tune filled the space, and I willed the music to calm me. My fists clenched as I rapped the bar.
“Just need to blow off steam.” I reached for the proffered shot. The sharp nectar burned my throat worse than the sting of her words. I don’t want you to be nice. I cursed myself for thinking of her. I didn’t know how to be nice by nature anyway. Obviously, I was doing it wrong. I slammed the glass on the wooden counter top and nodded for another.
“Sirene’s looking good tonight.” Rhad’s bleach-blond-gray head tilted in the direction of a young-looking, newly dead woman, with dulling red hair and gray eyes. She hadn’t been here long enough for her features to diminish the various hues of gray. Her hourglass form popped a hip, exaggerating her curves while her hand slid over her form-fitting skirt, drawing attention to her shape. She sensed my eyes watching her and the motion invited me to partake, if I chose. Her weasel eyes shifted every few seconds toward me and I continued to stare, drinking in the possibility of losing myself in her. Physical release would certainly relieve the tension wound from another certain someone. Someone I forced myself not to envision under me, allowing me relief through her, instead of this random girl. It had been far too long since I’d buried myself in a woman. I stood straighter, preparing to approach the eager flirt when the thought of blonde hair and bark-colored eyes filled my head. My mouth thirsting for a taste of rosy lips made Sirene’s deep plum ones unpalatable in comparison.
Damn it.
I stepped toward her, ready to speak, when Cade swept in and blocked my view. A burly beast of a being, Sirene gave me a flirtatious grin over the buff shoulder of the prized fighter. Maybe I’d met my wish for a fight and a female. Her eyes shifted away from mine. I approached slowly, coming to stand at her side. Her body language told me, she’d be willing to do what I asked as she twisted away from Cade.
“Hades.” Cade’s accent drew out my name. A strapping farm hand when he lived, I briefly imagined him as the type of man who worshipped Persephone above ground. She said she hadn’t been on many dates, but this labor-type matched who I envisioned asking her out. My blood cooled at the thought of someone like him putting his hands on that beautiful girl.
“Cade,” I quipped.
“Sirene.” She giggled, introduced herself by pointing both hands at her shoulders. “You boys looking for some fun tonight?” I was. Fun was what I needed compared to babysitting my prisoner, but sharing was not my style. Thoughts of my inmate rolled my stomach and my heart snapped. Tick-tock. Once again, I envisioned blonde hair and golden skin, not this graying female. Persephone’s body wasn’t as shapely, but she emitted beauty in an unfamiliar way. Sirene stood womanly in structure and I bet she’d seen her far share of men – alive and dead, whereas Persephone didn’t seem quite so experienced.
“Hades looks like he could use another drink?” Sirene inquired with an arched brow. Her hand slipped up my shoulder and around the nape of my neck. The touch felt wrong. It wasn’t the delicate fingers of a girl clutching me as I carried her from my father’s office. These fingers toyed with my collar and my back stiffened.
“Hades!” A piercing scream echoed off the cavernous space. My name vibrated over the ceiling and down to me, only no one else seemed to hear her cry. The horror stricken voice drew me away from Sirene and I spun for the spacious opening to the club. An ancient telephone rang at the bar and I paused briefly in passing Rhad. His eyes found mine. Raising a finger, I paused as he spoke into the receiver b
efore addressing me.
“Mina said she heard screams coming from your room.” Rhad stated after hanging up the phone. I raced for the elevator, tapping my foot as I waited until the lift picked me up and deposited me on my floor. That’s when I heard her shrill tone again.
“What do you want from me?” Persephone croaked as I forced open the door. Chaos had stormed my room. Ray, my bird, flapped wildly around the circular ceiling, cawing out the death sound as she circled and dipped in the confined quarters. Pinned up against the headboard, standing on the bed like she’d seen a mouse, Persephone stared wide-eyed at another woman. Her back to me, she stood dressed from head to toe in the eternal black of the underworld. The striking difference to her clothing was her platinum hair.
Mother.
“I just had to see for myself.” Her cold tone slithered through the room. A pale white hand snaked out to touch Persephone’s face.
“Mother,” I snapped. Her attention twisted to me. “You’ve returned.”
“Well, the Fall Equinox has arrived.” It was her curse. An arrangement between my father and her that allowed her absence for the months of spring and summer, but forced her to return for the fall and winter. She resented this agreement.
“Mother, allow me to introduce…”
“Oh, we’ve met,” she sneered, her deep purple lips twisted in disgust. “How ironic, don’t you think?” Yes. My guest shared the same name as my mother.
“And so the curse repeats.” My mother’s platinum hair showed little sign of her advanced age. Her life prolonged by the fate of my father, she remained beautiful in her own right, regal as queen of the underworld. Curse or not.
“I had to see if it was true. A human present here.” Her voice took a tone of intrigue and bitter humor. “Welcome to hell.”
Persephone remained pressed against the wall, her hands splayed out at her sides, palms pressed flat against the deep midnight blue color. I slowly stepped around my mother, becoming a barrier between her and my guest.
“I’m assuming your father has set forth some rules for her stay.” My mother’s questioning statement prickled down my back. Rules had been set forth before for her. She had broken them. Her decision resulted in her demise.
“Might I recommend the pomegranate? It’s particularly ripe this time of year.” The coldness of her suggestion, lost to Persephone, was real to me.
“Have you seen Father yet?” I stabbed at her with the reminder of her reason for returning.
“No,” she stated sharply. “I came to find answers for myself first.”
“Well, now you see her. She’s real and she’s staying with me.” Attempting to diffuse my mother’s inquisition, I also wanted to make it clear Persephone was under my charge. Ice blue eyes, not quite as deep as mine, stared back at me as my mother roamed over my protective stance. Her tight pencil skirt and black blouse made her appear as if she’d come from a funeral. Her pointed pumps aimed like daggers at me while her slender, pale hands balanced on her hips.
“We’ll see what your father has to say about this.” She dismissively waved, spun on her stilettos, and left the room without another word.
“She didn’t harm you, did she?” I turned on Persephone once the tension cleared. Her shaking head her only response, I climbed up on the bed to face her, reaching out for her hands, and gently removing them from the wall. She leaned forward and fell against me. My arms wrapped around her as hers encircled me, and I tumbled us to the bed. I rested my head on hers after drawing her into my lap. Her trim body trembled.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” she muttered into my chest. “But it’s better now.”
Within seconds, lightning crashed outside my window. Sparks crackled from the ground upward, as lightning does. My father and mother had reunited; the confrontation was apparently not pleasurable. A second crack followed the first and Persephone jumped within my arms. I pressed her tighter to me. Her head lay on my chest, watching out the window.
“Why does your heart sound like a clock?” Her question hinted at a slow smile. I pushed her back instantly. “I noticed it the other night, but forgot to bring it up again. It’s so strange.” Her lips tweaked at the sides.
“My heart is Time.”
Her eyebrows pinched and she waited for an explanation. Slowly, I untangled her from my lap and stood. I unzipped my hoodie. Her eyes followed the loud thread of metal unhitching from metal, never removing her eyes from my motion. I dragged the sleeves off my arms. Her eyes widened at the blue color of my revealed skin. I tugged up my T-shirt, exposing my chest and hitching it over my head. My heart ticked rapidly; I’d never felt so exposed. I stood before her half-dressed, my eyes lowered, afraid of her reaction. My arms flexed to fold over my chest and cover the tattoo. But she drank in my tight abs, sipped upward to my neck and licked her lips while she glanced at mine. Her eyes flipped back down to my chest. A shaky hand reached forward and her finger traced a circle in the air in the direction of the clock tattoo over my left pec.
“It reads nine twenty-two, but the time is definitely later than that.”
“It’s today’s date.”
She nodded once as if she understood but she didn’t. She would notice tomorrow. Maybe. The tattoo inked an ancient pocket watch over my heart. Where a beating heart should be. Its ability to keep time was unique. The blue imprint against my skin was the only marking on me.
Suddenly lightning struck again, and then the heavens opened and rain poured. The tiny pelts of water darted the window with pokes and pecks. Persephone rose from the bed and stood before the window.
“I love the rain,” I stated for no apparent reason. I stared in the same direction as her. Rivulets of water teemed downward on the glass like snakes slithering over the window.
“I hate it,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. Her hands rubbed up and down her sleeves.
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
I reached for my hoodie on the floor and draped it around her shoulders. We still stood near the window, and when lightning cracked again, she flinched.
“Let’s step back to the couch. We can watch from there.” I led her to my extra-long lounger and she sat near me. Her thigh brushed mine and my opposite knee bounced. I stretched my arm along the back of the couch and she tipped her head to rest against my shoulder. The position unfamiliar to me, I held very still, afraid to move. I didn’t want to dislodge her. I liked the feel of her against me. Her body warm despite her complaint of a chill, she nuzzled into me. Her head grew heavier and drooped forward.
“Persephone,” I whispered, afraid to disturb her. Her lack of response told me she slept. I shifted her head to my lap, and risked touching her hair. Golden tresses sifted through my fingers like grains of sand against the ocean waves. Her hair was soft, like the rest of her, and long. I allowed my fingers to dig deeper and comb from top to tip, straightening out the length and watching it cascade over her hunched shoulders.
“Hades,” she murmured in her sleep, and the sound could have stopped my tattoo from ticking, if only time was allowed to stand still.
Lazy
[Persephone]
I awoke with the sound of the shutting shades, blocking out the rise of day. This signaled night for him, and yet I hadn’t completely acclimated. It was strange to sleep when the day began. If I were home, I’d be up working the land, feeding the chickens or milking cows. My beautiful mother came to mind. Our house was nothing like this place. It was bright and airy, cozy and quaint. I nestled into the comfort around me, thinking of a place I missed. Peaceful. Tranquil. Then I realized two solid blue arms encircled me.
Twisting sharply, I saw Hades behind me, my back pressed to his chest, my knees curled to contour with his legs. His hoodie sweatshirt enveloped me and the woodsy scent of him filled my nostrils. His lids remained closed despite my sudden movement and I shifted, intending to roll off the couch we shared. His arms tightened.
“Don’t go,”
he muttered. “Let’s be lazy.”
His sleep-filled words stalled me. I didn’t believe he knew what he said. He must be dreaming, I thought. I settled back a little, letting him hold me, wondering if he dreamt of another girl. Maybe he confused me for her? He’d left in such a huff earlier and was gone a considerable amount of time. He smelled of whiskey and stale perfume. My nose twitched. Definitely the scent of another woman. I removed his arm and slipped off the cushions. It wasn’t me within his wandering mind, I realized, and I slunk quietly up from the couch. A hand caught my thigh.
“Where are you going?” His voice rolled like gravel under tires.
“I need the bathroom,” I lied. I couldn’t be this close to him. I couldn’t take comfort in his arms or feel the pinch in my heart that he thought of someone else, had been with someone else, while I remained trapped in his room with his mother. That horrible vile creature. Her features human, but her behavior beastly. Dressed sharply in black, she barged in the door, frightening me as she stalked with intention toward the bed where I sat. Compared to Hades’ father, who had the appearance of an aged rock star, she looked like a business professional dressed to conquer the world. I climbed the wall with my back, bracing myself for an attack. Her body still shapely, her hair a platinum white. Her icy blues hinted at being Hades’ mother. Only his were deeper, sapphire and kind.
She snarled as she spoke to me, demanding to know who I was and how I was here. She looked nothing like the blue- or gray-skinned beings I’d seen. She was fair and pale like me. She had to be human, but that made no sense.
“Your name matches mine. That means the curse will, too,” she warned. Crazy thoughts returned of an ancient myth come to life. This couldn’t be real, I thought for the millionth time. A thought that hadn’t occurred before choked me like wheat filling a silo. Was I doomed by some ancient tale? Would time repeat? Would I never get out of this place?