Hades: Modern Descendants

by elda lore

  As if out of nowhere, Hades appeared, but Tripper sped past him. One moment the road rested empty, and the next, there he stood. After we passed, he was gone again.

  “Tripper!” I yelled, reaching inside the window and smacking at his head. The truck swerved and spun around again. Light illuminated Hades up ahead. Anger emitted off him so strongly, it was almost visible around his body. His hands clenched at his sides as his eyes narrowed, and he dared Tripper to continue toward him, which Tripper did. The truck held at the same high speed, aimed directly for the body of Hades.

  “No!” I bent forward and reached through the open back window again. My hand slapped awkwardly at the side of Tripper’s head. “You asshole. You effing asshole.” He slammed on the brakes and my forehead hit the window edge. Instantly, Hades leapt into the truck bed, and almost as quickly, we were out. My head rang from the back and the front. He set me on the dirt and stroked over my hair.

  “I’m going to fucking kill him,” he seethed, his nostrils flaring. He pulled back the hand resting behind my head to find blood on his fingers. He noticed the stream of red trickling down my forehead. His hands worked fast, roughly skimming over the rest of me, attempting to assure himself I wasn’t additionally hurt.

  “I’m…I’m okay,” I stuttered. “Just a headache, or two.” He spun for the stalled truck a few yards away and yanked open the door. With a swift tug, Tripper was ripped from the driver’s seat by the throat.

  “If I find one more mark on her because of you, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

  Tripper was off the ground, his feet kicking as they dangled in the air.

  “Hade…Harris,” I caught myself as I called out. “He isn’t worth it.” Hades once told me he wasn’t Death. He didn’t have the right to take it and I didn’t want him to start now.

  “Let him go,” I choked, rubbing at the back of my head. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and the world blurred a bit. I steadied myself with a hand on the dirt, hoping solid ground would stabilize me.

  “Hades,” I whimpered as silver sparks floated before my eyes.

  “Only because she’s asking, am I sparing you this time.” He released Tripper with a shove, knocking his head against the open door frame. Tripper fumbled into the driver seat, but he couldn’t let it be.

  “You’re fucking crazy, Freak.” He slammed the door, and peeled down the gravel drive.

  “Persephone.” The drowning cry of Veva flooded my ears as if I sank under water. The world swirled and then turned black.

  Revelation

  [Hades]

  I let him live when I wanted to take his life. He deserved worse than I gave him for hurting her. A large bruise and a small cut under her hairline on the forehead with a gash to the back of her head were two marks too many. Swanson and Veva returned for us in a truck, but by then I’d carried her practically back to her house, never batting an eye at her weight. Veva questioned me several times.

  “You aren’t huffing or puffing, or anything.” She couldn’t understand how I wasn’t tired from carrying the load of a woman for a mile or more. I pretended I had struggled every once and a few steps, giving a fake jostle of Persephone, but my acting skills were atrocious. She whimpered against me. Her arms latched around my neck, and I was pleased she had the strength to hold onto me. I was furious that Tripper had gotten away.

  I didn’t know how to get her in her house without making a scene. Veva and Swanson said Zeke would kill Tripper himself if he heard he was drinking and driving. I shook my head at the ridiculousness of what these kids considered fun. Strong enough to carry Persephone, I felt weak and shaky as my solar source slowly depleted. I had to get the medallion under light, and soon, yet I didn’t want to part with Persephone. Too crowded with my three other roommates, I couldn’t take her to the caboose.

  “I could say she’s staying with me, but that never works in our favor. Our moms check in with one another.” Veva offered a solution, but I agreed it wouldn’t work. Baptism by fire, I’ve heard said on many occasions, and this was about to be one for me, as I approached the front door to Persephone’s home, carrying her weightless form. Veva opened the door without needing to knock, and we entered a warmly lit living room so opposite my own.

  I hardly ventured to the main floor of my true home in the underworld. I’d had my own floor for so long, I mainly kept to my bedroom. The space was big enough for one. Seeing the layout of Persephone’s house brought a new perspective. The soft glow of lamps lit the room with two overstuffed couches framing a low wooden table. Off to the left, a dining room with dark wood chairs surrounded a large farm table. Stairs led to the second floor, how normal humans would reach the upper level of a home compared to how I’d been entering – through the window. The contrast between us glared at me. Persephone was bright light and open spaces. I was dark caves and narrow rooms. Our worlds were so different.

  “What happened?” Demi raced to greet us. I recognized her as Persephone’s mother instantly. Her chestnut-colored hair framed the only difference between mother and daughter.

  “She fell in the truck,” Veva’s quivering voice shook with lies.

  “I’ll take her,” Zeke offered. My uncle still hadn’t admitted his recognition of me. Maybe Persephone was wrong. Maybe I did look different.

  “I’ve got her,” I replied, holding her closer to my chest. I refused to set her down anywhere other than her bed. Taking the initiative, I headed for the stairs. Zeke met my eyes, and I shook my head without shame; I’d been sneaking in her room each night. An entourage followed me as I made my way upward, without instruction, to Persephone’s room.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Her mother scolded from behind me. After laying Persephone down, she weakly turned to her mother.

  “Mama, it’s okay.” Her hand reached out limply. “This is Harris, remember?” Demi Fields blinked in disbelief. She knew the truth, but wanted her daughter to believe the fantasy.

  “Persephone,” Demi warned. “He needs to get off our land.” The bite in her tone gnawed at me, and Persephone struggled to sit up. My hands reached for her shoulders, pressing her back.

  “He stays,” Persephone bit back.

  “He’s not who you think,” Demi countered.

  “I know exactly who he is.” The words hung heavy in the air. There were no more lies as mother and daughter glared at one another. Persephone’s hand slipped into mine as I stood next to her bed. Her mother’s eyes watered with concern. She shook her head.

  “You can’t have her again,” Demi softly commanded.

  “I’m not taking her anywhere.” It was the truth. I didn’t plan to steal her and return to the underworld. Selfishly, I only wanted time here, now, with her. I’m not Death. The words were a thought, but Demi had the power to hear me. Zeke nodded in acknowledgement, too. While I was well-versed in the abilities of my uncles and their counterpart female friends, it was evident that Persephone had no idea of the power which might lie within her mother. Zeke’s arm wrapped around Demi’s and he escorted her from the room. Swanson and Veva remained, tongue tied and wide eyed.

  “Did you just get Demi to back down?” Veva asked, astonished. I didn’t respond. My eyes were on Persephone, whose lids closed.

  “I’m staying,” I said as I knelt on the floor. “Someone needs to look after you tonight.”

  Swanson tugged the back of Veva’s shirt and Veva leaned forward to kiss Persephone’s head before exiting the room as well.

  “I love you,” I whispered. “Nothing will hurt you ever again.” Though in my heart, the lie hurt.

  --

  The night remained quiet and I had plenty of time to think. Still restless with my anger, I listened to cicadas sing in the darkness. The gentle hum of air conditioning didn’t drown out the steady chirping and the noise sounded of summer. Life sprang forth on this farm. Food grew. Rivers flowed. Animals frolicked. This was nature, and I knew nothing of its mechanisms. Darkness was my world, not light. C
ertainly, not life.

  I looked down at Persephone, her hair splayed out to frame her head, the low light at the side of the bed illuminating her features. When Shakespeare wrote plays, he dreamed of women who looked like her, had strength like her, and would prevail like her. Strong in spirit, Persephone would go on, with or without me. I cursed heaven and hell that it could not be with me. She needed to live. It was the natural order of things. The circle of life, I’d read about. I only knew one stop. She needed to experience all the others.

  The clock on my chest ticked. Almost thirty days since my arrival. With excitement and trepidation, I looked forward to the second hand passing thirty-one. For the first time in my existence, it would cross to thirty-two as time had been rewound by Solis. A stopwatch of sorts, counting down the days that passed, time moved too quickly in her world. Endless days would soon return to me. I breathed in the scent of her room: pomegranate and citrus. My lip tweaked at the irony. She’d been protected and yet I failed. By giving in to my desire, consummating our love, I’d poisoned her. My father demanded her return for the indiscretion. Instead, I came to her.

  “Hades,” she called softly to me, her eyes open, staring. I couldn’t say how long she’d been watching me, as I had been lost in thought. She reached out her hand and I sat forward in the chair where I watched over her. Taking her fingers with mine, she tugged at me, and I slipped onto her bed. She curled into me, like she had so many nights in my room, her leg crossing mine, her head on my chest. I breathed in her summery scent and stroked her hair. I wanted this moment to last forever. For once in my existence, I wanted time to stop.

  Charity

  [Persephone]

  My birthday came to pass shortly after Hades returned me home, so I was twenty-two. A Spring-born babe, my mother called me, but the infantile treatment and the need to admonish every look I gave to Hades got on my nerves. My grandfather blamed my irritation on the weather.

  In mid-July, the heat ratcheted over one hundred. Days were too hot to farm. Nights were too hot to sleep, so we crept out to swim in the newly forbidden river. Veva spent the night, and we climbed down the trellis, like Hades climbed up it each night. We met Swanson and Hades on the other side of the caboose and pushed Swanson’s truck until we were far enough from the house to start the engine and ride. Hades’ glowing firefly kept him stable, and we laughed and joked like four normal friends.

  Expecting anything less than a packed river was ridiculous. A full-blown party lined the embankment. Trucks lights and a bonfire filtered light around the space. Tripper’s truck stood among the melee. He staggered over to his brother after we arrived but Hades pulled me toward the river’s edge.

  “Is it safe?” My eyes stared at the dark murky water highlighted by headlights. The river moved slowly and Hades sighed. “I think it’s fine.”

  “Come on in, man,” Swanson slapped Hades on the back before jumping feet first into the cold water. Hades laughed and he pulled back his plaid shirt. Underneath he wore a man’s tank and his muscles glistened in the firelight. My eyes licked over his body and he watched me watch him. He pulled up the tank, reveling his hard abs, in a slow show of seduction. His eyes didn’t leave mine, knowing I drank him in. My body trembled with desire. It ached in places he hadn’t touched upon his return. My shaky hand rose and dragged my T-shirt over my head, returning the tease with my own call of temptation. Hades’ eyes widened at the sight of my white bikini top. My hips wiggled as I shimmied my jean shorts down to my ankles, and then kicked them off to the side. I stood before him in a scrap of material. His eyes closed slowly and his throat rolled.

  “Persephone,” he groaned. Suddenly, his eyes flew open and he fell to the side. Swanson whooped and Hades yelled, as he’d been grabbed by the ankle and tugged toward the river. He slipped under then burst upward, swooshing his longer hair to one side. Glistening with droplets of water, he was a god among men. From his waist downward, the river covered him and the appearance only heightened my already achy need. He looked naked, springing forth from dark nectar, and I wanted to drink every inch of him.

  “Jump in, Persephone,” Swanson called and I ran for the edge, a scream escaping me before I hit the cool surface. Slipping under the river refreshed me and chilled my overheated thoughts of Hades naked. I popped up to find him standing right in front of me. His hand reached out to brush back my soaked hair, but stopped at the nape of my neck and tugged me against him. He groaned before his mouth captured mine, claiming me as his before all the partygoers. His free hand wrapped around to the bare skin of my lower back and he pressed me forward, my body suddenly aware of his desire.

  Our lips melted, heated by the passion between us. My hips rolled forward, longing to feel the hard length of him between my thighs. His hand slipped lower, under the cover of water, and my legs wrapped around his hips. He dipped us deeper into the protection of the river, and my center straddled his. The connection of our lips remained unbroken. The river water did nothing to cool us down as my body quickly reheated.

  “Persephone,” he warned, as I ground over him, hard and ready for me. My body lost control. My mouth fell open and my hands delved into his wet hair, tugging him toward me. My hips rocked, forcing friction between my thighs.

  “Persephone?” His tone dropped. I couldn’t answer him. I couldn’t speak. I took what I needed from him. I ground harder, rocked faster, the water swirled around us as he treaded backwards, away from direct sight of the others.

  “I…” I had no words. The tingle started in my toes and swam up my legs rapidly. My breath hitched and I clenched my thighs around him. My body stilled as my own wave crashed. His mouth captured mine to swallow my cries of pleasure and I pressed down on him, letting the release wash over me. I could have melted into the river and drifted off to sea after the relief he’d given me.

  “Persephone,” he choked, pulling back from my mouth and kissing my jaw. I clung to him with arms and legs and hands, suddenly worried he’d drift away with the river.

  “Let me do the same for you,” I rasped, still trying to catch my breath.

  “It’s too cold in here, Firefly.” He kissed my shoulder as his hands caressed up my back. His mouth came to mine again, but a loud cry and a splash of water washed over us. Hades stood abruptly, taking me with him in his arms. My legs were too shaky to release him.

  “Aw, let me show you how a real man does it, Freak-boy,” Tripper snapped behind me. I wrapped my arms tighter around Hades, willing him not to respond.

  “He’s not worth it,” I whispered in his ear. The tension in his body told me he disagreed. I loosened my hold and slid down his body. We separated only inches, before he tugged me against him. Hades remained tense.

  “What is it?” My pinched brow questioned.

  Hades twisted to glance over his shoulder. “Get out of the water,” he warned, practically lifting me as he dragged me to the river’s edge. He hoisted me upward to the east bank and climbed out after me. He turned with worry and faced the full river.

  “Tripper, get out of the water,” he warned. Tripper responded with an affectionate middle finger salute. Hades’ head turned left and the water rippled with increasing speed. Something swam upstream.

  “What is it?” I hissed. The water shifted and clapped like a horseman rode down the center. There was nothing to be seen but the water clearly marched.

  “Tripper,” Hades yelled as the galloping river rode up to Tripper and dragged him under. Hades cursed and ran for the embankment. Leaping out, his dive matched that of a practiced swimmer. He slipped under the dark water like an otter and disappeared in the same place as Tripper. The river only came to either man’s waist. It didn’t seem feasible they could drown, but the minutes ticked forward and they were under too long. The river slowed to a trickle and the two men remained missing. Swanson reached my side, but I gripped his arm in warning to stay out of the water.

  “Hades,” I screamed, forgetting his alias. A splash broke through the water and
Hades erupted with Tripper under his arm. He walked backward, dragging Tripper’s lifeless form against his chest. Two guys jumped in the water and helped lift Tripper onto the dirt. I knelt next to him, instantly attempting CPR. I pressed his chest and water gurgled from his lips. Shifting to pinch his nose, I then breathed into him. Repeating the process two more times, I turned him on his side and more water poured from his mouth. On my last pass over his lips, he captured mine and sucked them deep with the coldness of his. His tongue plunged forward and his hand reached up to grip my hair. Within seconds I was yanked off Tripper, and Hades stood primed and ready to pounce.

  “You’re a fucking asshole, Tripper. I should have let you drown.”

  “Jealous? I bet my lips felt warmer than yours with that freaking scar.” I twisted to notice that Hades’ skin had a muddy blue cast to it. The white scar prominently marked the top and bottom curves of his lips. Swanson helped Tripper to stand, ignoring the coloring of Hades and admonished his brother.

  “He just saved your life.” His tone expressed his incredulousness.

  “You mean he tried to drown me,” Tripper coughed.

  “Something else pulled you under,” Veva spoke, shock quivering in her voice. “We all saw it, and we saw Hades dive in after you. He just saved you.” Her hands came to her hips and she glared at Tripper. “Who are you?” She shook her head in dismay and walked away from him.

  “Vee,” Trip called weakly after her, limply reaching out for her retreating form.

  “Veva?” Swanson questioned, looking between his brother and our best friend. He released his brother as if the touch of his skin burned. “No,” he muttered softly and stepped away from our small crowd.