Hades’ Daughter (The War of Fate)

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Hades’ Daughter (The War of Fate) Page 6

by Charlotte Carol


  Guys jeer and chuckle at Hunter. I finish the stretch and stand back up to look back at Hunter. His mouth has fallen open, and a slight blush tints his cheeks.

  “Shut your mouth. You’re catching flies,” I shout to him when he still doesn’t move. His mouth quickly shuts, and he smirks.

  I turn back to the group as Mrs. Karmen instructs us to run a lap on the track. I smooth down the vest as I walk to the starting line. The whistle blows after we have all congregated, and we move as a group.

  My legs easily fall into a rhythm; I move at a fast human pace, allowing me to complete the lap quickly and with ease. I slow to a walk as I cross the line. I look back and see the group behind me is just turning around the last corner of the track. Mrs. Karmen looks surprised when she sees me cross the line.

  “Wow, Hades, how long have you been running?”

  “Ever since I could walk…” I answer confused.

  She chuckles slightly before clarifying. “Have you ever competed or thought about it?”

  “No,” I answer simply, moving to the other side of the track as I wait for them all to finish.

  I watch the field, looking at the boys running as they throw a football around. Hunter draws his arm back and uses his strong muscles to throw a fastball at a boy across the field. Before he runs, he looks back over his shoulder and catches that I am watching him.

  He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he flexes his arm. I shake my head at him, a small smile on my lips as I hear most of the girls run over the line.

  I turn to see that one of the last people over the line is the girl from the hallway, whom I have decided to call Slut #1. Her breaths are short and irregular as she pushes a piece of her bleached blonde hair off her red face. I press my lips together to suppress a laugh. I thought she would have better stamina.

  Mrs. Karmen tells us to catch our breath for a moment before we do hurdles.

  The rest of the lesson goes by, a few people tripping over the hurdles to my amusement, and eventually, we have ten minutes left before we go and change.

  “Okay, everyone, line up. Let’s see how many laps you can do in the ten minutes left. Remember, if you do not complete four laps within the ten minutes, then you will be given a detention,” she orders after a couple of minutes.

  Once we are all lined up, Mrs. Karmen blows her whistle, and we all set off again. I keep a steady pace with the main group, but they quickly fall behind as my legs push me to go slightly faster. I don’t keep track of the time, and it passes by quickly.

  When Mrs. Karmen shouts that we have been running for half of the time, I am just coming around the last bend on my sixth lap. I look to the bleachers and see that people are slowly struggling their way up the steps. I look at the faces and see that Slut #2 and #3 are two of the people who have given up. I look behind me and see that Slut #4 and their leader are gaining on me, their faces red and sweat dripping down them. Slut #4 is looking worse than her leader. She looks longingly at the bleachers but then back to the girl running determinedly beside her. She eventually gives up and slows to a walk, and Slut #4 takes this as them giving up and starts toward the bleachers happily. However, a glare has her returning to Slut #1’s side.

  I stay at the same pace until Mrs. Karmen tells us to speed up for the last minute. I kick the notch up a bit and run the lap, passing Slut #1 and her clone who are both still walking. I hear the beat of their feet hitting the floor start to quicken, and they force themselves so they can try and pass me. I slow down, giving it to them.

  I see it before it happens; Slut #1 sticks her foot out, waiting for me. I step over her leg, moving to the side, slightly sticking my leg out in return. When she starts off, thinking she has to catch up with me, she doesn’t notice my foot in her way and trips over it, her head flying back as she zooms toward the floor.

  A satisfied smirk makes its way to my lips as I start off again, seeing the finish line is around the next corner. Holding my breath, I run the rest of the way and over the line. When I let myself breathe again, I draw in deep breaths, panting, giving the illusion of me losing my breath to the exercise. I bend down, resting my hands on my knees for extra effect. Mrs. Karmen walks up beside me.

  “Wow, Hades, you should really think about trying out for the track team. Twelve laps, that’s the best I have seen,” she comments. Straightening up, I put my hands on my hips.

  “Maybe,” I say to please her.

  “However, I did see you trip Tiffany. We do not tolerate that sort of behavior,” she points out, an amused edge to her voice. So, Slut #1 is called Tiffany. I nod, letting her know I understand.

  Mrs. Karmen walks away when Tiffany joins us, and Tiffany calls the coach. A snigger leaves me as I take in the girl in front of me. Her hand is upon her face, hovering over her nose. Blood trickles from it, smearing at the bottom of her hand. At the sight of blood, I panic momentarily, wondering if it will trigger my hunger. It doesn’t, thankfully. I had no appeal to her blood; if anything, it made my nose scrunch up. Her usually nasal and whiny voice is dimmed as if she had a clogged nose. I laugh.

  “Mrs. Karmen, did you see what she did to me? You should put her in detention or something,” she exclaims.

  Mrs. Karmen closes her eyes and sighs before responding,

  “Tiffany, if I were to do that, then you would need to join her, as you went to trip her first. Do you still want to complain?”

  Tiffany grumbles but doesn’t argue any further.

  “Okay, you can all go in and change now!” she calls back to the group of girls behind us. There are a few weak cheers as we join the boys in making our way back into the main building. I trail behind them, hoping people will not start a conversation with me.

  It doesn’t work, as moments later I see a male figure stop in front of me, allowing me to catch up with him. I turn to see it is Hunter. Rolling my eyes, I start to walk quicker.

  “You’re very welcoming,” he says sarcastically.

  “Thanks. I’m glad you noticed,” I reply dryly, looking ahead. I don’t need a relationship; I’ll be gone in a year, and how do I explain to them why they will never see me again? It will never work out with humans anyway unless I change them like my dad did; they grow old and die, and I would never entertain the idea of having a relationship with a soul.

  My way into the building is blocked when Hunter stands in front of me. My eyes find a sweat-soaked shirt in front of me. I force the thoughts that it provokes out of my head as I look up into his chocolate eyes. A drop of sweat falls from his brown hair over his eyes; his hair is matted with sweat also. I would have imagined that he stinks, and he does slightly, but the overwhelming manly smell that comes with it has me backing up. The muskiness and slight spiciness seem to encircle me. I breathe in and hold it there, going to move around him, but he steps with me.

  I groan, my jaw clenching. I give him a false smile.

  “Let’s get this over with. No,” I tell him, going the other way, but he steps in front of me again. I cross my arms as I cock my head, glaring at him.

  “What?” Hunter asks confused.

  “No, I will not go out with you. You have your answer. Now, let me past,” I tell him irritably, trying to move past him. I throw my hands up in exasperation when he doesn’t let me pass again.

  He chuckles, stepping toward me.

  “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. That question will come another day.” His hand reaches out for my face, and I grab it, bending his fingers back slightly.

  “I’ll break your fingers if you try that again,” I threaten him, dropping them. A glint comes into his eyes.

  “You like it rough? Good to know.” I roll my eyes, shaking my head. He does not give up. “You’re a violent little thing…”

  My mouth falls open. Did he just call me little? I’m not a kid. I poke him in the chest, hard.

  “Watch what you say about me, because I may just break your fingers anyway,” I warn him.

  He chuckles, think
ing it’s a joke. I will; I don’t like being called little. I’m short in comparison to all the demons back home, and I get teased about it endlessly by the friends that I have, mostly Adrian. I know they mean it all good-heartedly, but I don’t need it pointed out.

  “Anyway, I saw you trip Tiffany.”

  “And you’ve come to defend her? Are you her boyfriend or something?” I ask, crossing my arms again as I raise an eyebrow. “She deserved it.”

  “No, I just wanted to let you know it was pretty funny.”

  “That’s it? You annoyed me just to say you thought that it was funny that I tripped Tiffany?”

  He shrugs. “You made it longer than it needed to be. Maybe you like me after all,” he adds cheekily before turning and continuing into the building.

  I scoff at him as I reach up into my hair, untangling the band there, running my hands through it to try and make it presentable. Tiffany shoves my shoulder as she walks past.

  “Hunter’s mine, bitch,” she sneers.

  “Does he know that? He just told me he found it funny that you were hurt,” I call after her with a slight chuckle.

  She spins around before storming back to me.

  “You’re just jealous.”

  “Jealous? Have at him. I have no interest in him whatsoever, so back off,” I tell her firmly before going around her and into the building.

  Chapter 5

  Blood Bags Instead of Sandwiches

  I enter Algebra to find that the lesson has started with the teacher at the board, writing up a couple of problems. I look at what she’s writing, and my brain hurts just thinking about trying to solve them. I was given basic training by my dad at a young age, including most languages and simple math, but nothing to this extent; I didn’t need it.

  Mrs. Smith pauses and turns to look at me in the doorway. She looks at me expectantly.

  “Can I help you?” I think about turning and walking out of the school, but the image of my dad has me opening my mouth.

  “Yes. I’m Scarlett Hades. I’m new.”

  “Okay, well, take a seat, and we can continue,” she says with a kind smile.

  I look at the rows of students and find an empty seat at the back, next to a girl with her blond hair up in a ponytail. I weave through the students and slide into the seat. I pull out a notebook, and I sit back up to see that the girl’s brown eyes are trained on me, looking me over. I return a questioning look.

  “You’re the new girl who confronted Tiffany in the corridor,” she states quietly.

  I internally groan, looking around for a different seat. I don’t want to have to deal with Tiffany in every class.

  “Is there any other new girl? You’re not friends with them, are you?”

  “What you mean Tiffany, Brittany, Cindy, and…”

  “Wait! Don’t tell me. Barbie?” I say with a slight smile.

  “No. Courtney,” she replies. I look her over, not able to figure out if she thought I was being funny or a bitch. Wow, tough crowd.

  “So, are you?” I prompt her.

  “God, no, I can’t stand them. Tiffany is head cheerleader and ultimately feels like she’s the head of the school but only comes across as a bitch. Someone needed to stand up to her, but everyone was scared of being ruined.”

  My smile grows bigger at her explanation. I think I’m going to like this girl.

  “A bit cliché isn’t it that the head cheerleader is a bitch? I bet you she couldn’t even ruin anyone.” The girl giggles as she agrees.

  Mrs. Smith notices us talking and calls back to us.

  “Ms. Hades, I don’t know what school you came from recently, but I’m sure they had a no-talking policy also.”

  I hold back a facetious remark that in fact, it didn’t, as my dad never stopped me from talking, although he sometimes got sick of it. I only wait until Mrs. Smith tells us that we should work through the problems before I turn back to the girl.

  “I’m Scarlett, but you can call me Scar,” I tell her quietly.

  “Lily,” she responds. “Do you want to sit with us at lunch?”

  “Who are us?”

  ***

  We enter the bustling cafeteria, the smell of the food causing my stomach to growl. I noticed that ever since gym, where I exerted myself, my hunger has made itself known. I usually receive blood whenever I want and always have it three times a day. I’m sure it’s only hunger for normal food. I had hoped that I would be able to go the whole day without blood and have some when I get home.

  Pushing the thoughts to the back of my mind, so I don’t make it worse, I follow Lily to get our food and then to a table near the doors into a courtyard. I look at the clear blue sky and see the sun shining brightly. I place the food down on the table before giving my attention to the people already sitting there.

  “This is Lottie, and her boyfriend Max, and this is Tasha.” Lily points to them individually. “Guys, this is Scar.”

  I look at Lottie and see that her skin is fairer than mine, which contrasts her black hair. Her green eyes are welcoming as she gives me a cursory once-over. Her figure is dwarfed by the fair boy next to her. He runs his hand, the one that is not resting behind Lottie, through his brown hair as his hazel eyes meet mine. Like his girlfriend’s, they are welcoming and kind.

  I turn to the last person at the table and am met with a girl who’s about the same size as me. She’s the most tanned at the table with blond hair and blue eyes that remind me of a surfer. I greet them with a smile as I sit down next to Tasha, facing the entrance to the cafeteria. They all return the greeting in their own ways.

  I answer most of the same questions that Hunter asked me, like “Where are you originally from?” and “Why did you move?” When I see my earlier interrogator walk in with four other boys, I cock my head as I watch them, trying to figure out something. Something is confusing me about the scene.

  Hunter looks around the room before his eyes land on me, and he smirks. I look away from him when I see he’s making his way to where we are sitting, the four other boys following him. I rest my head on my hand as I look away from him.

  When Hunter addresses me, I turn and force a smile on my face.

  “Newbie, I heard you and Tiffany fought over me after I left. I wish I was there.”

  “Yeah, you wish, Oldie. You would have not seen anything because all I did was tell her that I was not interested in you.”

  “Now, we both know that’s not true,” he says with a smug smirk.

  “I would only be interested in you if… if…” At that moment, the door swings open, causing a slight breeze to blow into the cafeteria. The overwhelming smell of hundreds of bodies flowing with fresh blood hits me. I gulp as I feel the hunger take over.

  Losing control, my body thinks that I’m going to attack, and this causes my features to change. My fangs grow, and I feel my face start to transform. My horns begin to push through my hair, and I know my eyes have turned red. Not on the first day of school! I can’t be found out; my dad would kill me and then never let me go anywhere again.

  I immediately act, bending my head down and running my hands up through my hair, pushing it back over my horns, the hands resting on them for another protection, the sharp points digging into my hands the more they grow. My longer fingernails are hidden in the tangle of hair. My face is hidden my arms. I breathe a couple of breaths, not caring how weird I look for cutting off mid-sentence and ignoring all the concerned questions being shot my way. After a couple of breaths, my horns slowly recede, along with my fangs. My face begins to smooth out, letting me know that my eyes have also changed back to the normal blue. I clear my throat before slowly straightening.

  “I’ll be back. Sorry,” I mutter before getting up and running out of the cafeteria. Great! Now everyone thinks I’m a freak.

  I rub my face as I bring my phone up to my ear. Only one person can help with this. I’m not willing to risk teleporting, and drinking from someone here is out of the question. I wouldn’t eve
n drink from Tiffany.

  “Dad, I need you to send something to eat up to school. It’s too risky for me to change places,” I plead with him, hoping he’ll catch on to what I’m asking.

  “Hello to you too. Isn’t there food in the cafeteria?” he asks, but he understands perfectly, as it’s followed by a chuckle.

  “Not the kind I’m talking about. Now, are you going to help or not?” I ask irritably.

  “Of course, I was just playing with you. Someone is on their way up. What I don’t get is why you didn’t take any with you.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him before continuing in a sarcastic whisper. “Yeah, that would be totally normal. While everyone has their sandwiches, I take out a blood bag. I wouldn’t get any weird looks at all!”

  “You could tell them it is soup or something.” He laughs.

  “Fine, I dare you to do that. Tell me how it goes,” I say before hanging up. Not wanting another disaster like before, I breathe in and hold it there, hoping that the demon won’t take long.

  I arrive back at the table to find it’s silent. When they see me coming, they all look at me worried.

  “Are you okay?” Tasha asks. I nod, knowing if I talk, it will come out rushed as I try not to breathe in.

  “You sure?” Lottie asks, biting her lip.

  I give her a reassuring smile as I nod again. I look around the cafeteria to find where Hunter went. I meet his concerned gaze across the room; I give him the same smile before I sit back down in my seat. I listen as they start to talk around me, sending me glances every so often to check I’ve not freaked out again.

  I am beginning to wonder where the person with my blood is when I hear the sound I’ve been waiting for. Silence in the corridor, followed by a few screams. Immediately the cafeteria goes silent as they wait to see what the threat is. A few people stand up, including Hunter and his friends, ready for whatever happens next. I watch them all curiously with a small smile on my face. They wouldn’t be able to take down whoever was in the corridor, even if they tried.

  The door opens, and people back away from it. A blonde head pokes in, surveying the room. The blue eyes fall on me, crinkling at the sides as the face stretches with a smile. The door flies open, and the person walks in, arms outstretched.

 

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