Hades’ Daughter (The War of Fate)

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Hades’ Daughter (The War of Fate) Page 11

by Charlotte Carol


  I exhale as I stand up, looking down at the patch where the blood was. Right now, it’s damp, but when it dries, it shouldn’t be obvious that someone was bleeding there. Needing to get rid of the bloody water before I go back down, I walk into the bathroom and tip it down the drain. I don’t feel up to making excuses this morning; the magic of caffeine hasn’t started working on my hangover yet.

  Returning back downstairs, I find that they have all moved from the kitchen to the living room and in front of the television. Make yourselves at home, why don’t you?

  “I’m going out. I better find the house in the same state as I left it!” I warn them.

  They grunt in response, their eyes not leaving the screen. I look around and see that the remnants of the party are still scattered around the house. They would have to destroy it for it to be majorly different, I think to myself as I pick up the keys to my bike and helmet. Albeit, I can’t believe that I’m leaving these boys alone in my house! I only hope that I don’t come back to ruins.

  ***

  I decide to drive to Miami and go to one of the beaches. I need a nice and relaxing day on the beach after all the long days at school and last night. I’ve not had the chance to explore and experience the different things to do on Earth like I wanted to. Has my dad done that on purpose? Is he afraid that I’ll leave him for Earth, or that something will happen to me? If so, he has nothing to worry about. I may fall in love with Earth, but it would never stop me from going back to Hell. Hell’s my destiny, and the love is much stronger for there than it ever could be for Earth.

  I pull the bike into a space on the side of the road and clamber off. Pulling the helmet off, I shake my hair out, using my fingers to try and neaten it out and get rid of the tangles caused by the wind.

  I turn back to the bike, placing the helmet in the compartment. I look around and see that families are here together, as well as groups of friends. My eyes linger shortly on a group of men standing by a van, looking expectant. They look too different to be family, and they don’t look close enough to be friends. I wonder why they’re here. I love people-watching, as humans are all so different from each other. I turn back to the beach and see the turquoise ocean sparkling in the bright sun, the light sand peppered with people enjoying their days out.

  I join them, walking on the warm sand, finding a patch of sand where I can sit down and soak up the sun. I lay back, an arm going up to cover my eyes. The comfort from the higher heat, which is more similar to what I am used to, starts to make me feel drowsy. The white noise given by the people around me talking and the sound of the waves have me drifting off.

  The peace is shattered by a scream. I jolt upright, half-annoyed at my relaxation being ruined and half-annoyed as it seems I never get a day off. I would have left it, but it was a young girl who had screamed. Thinking the worst, that a demon is here wreaking havoc, I jump up and turn in the direction I heard it come from.

  Chapter 10

  Game On

  An interesting thing I have come to realize about humans is that if an event where help is needed doesn’t concern them, they will bury their head in the sand and do nothing to help, as they don’t want to get involved. Whether it be fear stopping them, or uncertainty with how to help, they will ignore whatever is going on. The onlooking crowd has a pack mentality. If no one else is going to help the person in need, they won’t be the first to move.

  Take for example what is happening right now. A girl, who could only be ten, is being kidnapped by the group of men I saw when I first arrived. Is anyone going to help her? No. They are all avoiding and ignoring the situation. People are even moving out of the way of the kidnappers, not wanting to be in the middle. Some people’s faces are unsure, and they look like they want to help, but the underlying fear of what could happen to them stops them from acting. Demons are no better, though; if anything, our kind is worse. We would be the ones to stop and help them abduct the girl.

  Keeping my eyes on the slowly moving group of men struggling with the girl, I ruffle my hair before pulling the tank top down to expose more of my cleavage. I start to saunter toward their direction, aiming to walk through their path to the van, as to get their attention.

  Swaying my hips, I block their path as I walk past. I give a quick look to see if I have their attention and am pleased to find that I do. As I continue, some even start to shout out lame pick-up lines and whistle loudly. I wait a moment longer, making sure I don’t go too far, so they don’t lose interest.

  “Hey, hottie, are you wearing space pants because your ass is out of this world?”

  I hold back from giving a sarcastic response as I turn around, my eyelashes fluttering as I bite my lip. I saunter back and put my hand on the chest of the closest man. I let my lip go as I look up at him through my eyelashes.

  His blond hair is greasy, and his blue eyes are glinting with something that would have me shifting uncomfortably if I weren’t the daughter of Hades. He shows me his yellow, crooked teeth when he leers down at me. His face is marred by scars, and the scent coming off him surrounding me has me holding back bile. I force a smile on my lips and continue with the charade.

  I let out a low whistle, holding back a laugh as I talk, knowing if I do, it’ll ruin everything.

  “Hello, sexy,” I say seductively, making my voice husky and low. “Why don’t you and your friends come with me, and we can have some fun?”

  I see the man’s eyes light up but dim slightly as he looks over my shoulder. I trail my fingers over his chest to encourage him. I’m not losing his interest!

  “Can’t you tell we’re busy?” a deep voice, which has me shivering, asks. The slight gruffness and gravelly quality of his voice screams danger at me, and I like me a bit of danger.

  I let my hand fall from the tubby chest in front of me and turn to come face to face with a god. In the figurative sense, not the literal of course, as I know and have met all the real gods. However, the man standing in front of me could be worshiped. He’s the youngest of the group, probably by half their ages, but even so, he seems to be the one in charge.

  The man I was talking to looked to him when I suggested they deviate from what they were doing with the girl, and he just has the feeling of power emanating from every pore of his body.

  His light brown hair is messy and looks like it’s waiting for someone to run their hands through it. I’ll happily volunteer, I think as I continue my inspection. His piercing, ice-blue eyes are hard and guarded as they return the inspection, traveling over my face.

  My eyes move down his plump lips waiting to be kissed—over the stubble scattered over his tanned skin on his strong, defined jaw—and to his body. His arms are crossed, causing his biceps to bulge against the cropped sleeves. The skin which is exposed is tattooed.

  At some point when I am ogling him, my lip ends up between my teeth. I let my lip go as I move my attention back to the situation at hand and off the man standing in front of me.

  “What is it you are doing?” I ask, faking obliviousness and innocence, twirling a piece of hair between my fingers. I internally roll my eyes; the dumb girl is my least favorite persona I use.

  His eyes seem to burrow into me, seeing my every thought and feeling. His eyes become amused, telling me my act didn’t work on him.

  “Huh,” I let out quietly. No human has ever been able to see past my charade. This makes me even more intrigued by him. Not trusting my first appraisal, I smell the air discreetly, wondering if maybe I was wrong and he is a demon. He has the dangerous feeling coming off him, but his blood is fully human and intoxicating.

  “It’s none of your business what we’re up to,” he replies.

  I like a challenge; he’s not going to let up easily. I step toward him, resting my hand on his hard chest. The smell coming from him overwhelms me, and the smell of the earlier man is pushed out of my mind as the intoxicating musky smell consumes my whole thoughts. My breaths start to quicken as hunger rears its head, eager to taste whethe
r he’s as good as he smells.

  A throat being cleared has me jolting out of the hunger. I need to gather myself. He’s only a human, so this should have been easy and completed already.

  “Are you sure you can’t do it another time?” I ask with a pout, taking a step back from him, thankful for the reprieve. I stretch my arms behind me, joining my hands at the back, letting out a groan as if I am tired, my eyes trained on the man the whole time.

  A satisfied smile comes to my lips when I see him look down at my breasts which are now pushing against the material of my vest, his jaw clenching before he looks away. Men are so easy to manipulate.

  “Oh well, your loss,” I continue before turning and walking slowly away.

  The other men in the group start to protest, trying to get their leader to change his mind.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  “Wait!”

  I pause.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  I grin and spin around.

  “Ditch the girl,” I sneer as I look at her, trying to communicate with my eyes to run as soon as they let her go. “And you’ll find out.” I just hope that she understands what I’m trying to tell her. If I were her, I wouldn’t think twice about it when I got a chance to escape.

  After a long minute, the leader nods at the man holding the girl. Without hesitation, he lets the girl go.

  She runs off, not giving a look back, and I exhale in relief. Triumph has my sneer turning into a grin again as I watch the girl grow smaller.

  My attention is brought back to the group of men who are all now looking at me with a hungry look in their eyes.

  “So, what was your idea?” the leader asks with a smirk. What throws me about the smirk is that it’s not malicious or expecting anything; instead, he almost looks amused.

  “I don’t even know your name…” I say, not taking my eyes off him. I have no interest in the others.

  “Reid Brice.” He looks like he’s waiting for a reaction of sorts. Should I know who he is? He looks pleased before continuing by introducing the others. I don’t need to know their names, so I tune him out. So who is the illustrious Reid Brice who kidnaps ten-year-olds and is known by people?

  “Name?”

  It takes my brain a moment to piece together what he is asking. Name. He wants to know my name, I think, pulling myself together.

  “Scarlett, but you can call me Scar,” I answer with a wink. The eye contact I have kept with the leader is broken when one of the men starts advancing toward me, gripping my arm so I’m looking at him instead.

  “Well, I know what I want to do with you Scar,” the man tells me with a sadistic and lust-filled grin.

  I step back from him, tearing my arm out of his grip. I had set the girl free and had found out the hot guy’s name. My work here is done. The man takes a step forward only to falter when I stop his train of thoughts, a false smile on my face.

  “Yeah? Well, whatever it is, it’s not going to happen.”

  His smile falls as anger takes over. “What?” he demands.

  “You heard me.”

  He steps forward to get to me, his face clouding over with the fury. His hand shoots out and grabs my arm tightly.

  I tut at him as I wave my finger from side to side.

  “Uh, uh, uh, you don’t want to hurt me,” I warn him.

  “And why not?” he asks cockily. I love when they think they know everything.

  “Because you don’t want to make me angry. I have seen my fair share of dead bodies in my life, shall we say. So, my suggestion to you if you want to keep that hand and your dick is to let go of me and never try to kidnap a girl again and then lose her when a girl more than half your age comes along that you want to fuck. Okay? Trust me, I will find out if you do something like this again,” I advise bluntly, yanking my arm out of his grip. I move away from the group and back toward my bike.

  “You do realize that I’m probably only about five years older than you,” Reid mutters to me as I pass him, brushing him on purpose, a light smirk on his lips.

  “I know. I wasn’t talking to you. See you around,” I respond, looking him up and down one last time, knowing it will be unlikely I will see him again. I carry on to my bike, feeling eyes following me until I’m out of sight.

  I straddle the bike, pushing my helmet down onto my head, and set off back to the house.

  I turn onto the main road, noticing that it’s relatively busy. Looking in the mirror to see if I can change lanes, I spot the van from the beach following me a couple of cars back.

  I decide to put it to the test, wondering if they are just leaving the beach to go back. Instead of changing lanes, I turn left, keeping an eye on one of my mirrors.

  Soon enough, the van turns as well. I turn right this time, speeding up slightly. Yet again, the van follows closely behind.

  I snort; they’re not very good at tailing someone, as they are now nearly directly behind me. I could lose them if I wanted to; however, I decide to have a bit of fun with them.

  I notice that the street is a dead end but has an alleyway that the van could fit down. I turn into it, skidding to a halt. I look around the alley and see that it holds dumpsters for garbage, but that hasn’t stopped the floor being scattered with articles of trash.

  As expected, seconds later, the van turns into the alley, coming to an abrupt stop when they see me standing halfway down. The doors simultaneously open as the group of men exits the van. I am slightly disappointed and glad at the same time that I do not see Reid among them.

  “We’re here to collect our ‘fun,’ as you called it,” one of the men says as he pushes the doors shut, causing a slamming sound to resonate off the grubby walls of the alley.

  “You didn’t get it, did you?” I ask rhetorically, my hands going up to my helmet still on my head. “Maybe this will help.” I pull the helmet off my head, allowing them to see my red eyes, demonic features, and, of course, my tiara of horns. I flash them a toothy grin, showing them my fangs.

  “You wanted fun, so why don’t we play a game?” I suggest. “You run, and I’ll catch you and make you my dinner.”

  They are frozen, staring at me in shock and terror.

  Internally, I laugh; I love when they look scared and vulnerable. “I’ll take that as a yes. Well then, game on!”

  Once the last word has left my lips, the men begin to shove each other, trying to get back to the van before the others. I wait a moment until they have bundled each other back into the van before I act.

  I run at my fastest pace, stopping abruptly inches away from the van. Their eyes widen even further, and I see a couple of them swallow. The man in the passenger seat and the one that called the lame pick-up line to me shouts at the driver.

  “She’s a demon. Run her down!”

  I raise an eyebrow as I move my gaze to the driver, waiting to see what he’s going to do. I can see when he decides because his face hardens. The engine rumbles to life, and a smirk comes to my lips.

  Deciding to play with them, I push my demon side back and return back to my normal face, but if they wanted to change their mind now, it’s too late. The van jolts forward, and I take a couple of steps back, forcing a scared expression onto my face. The van picks up speed, and I force myself to hold back a smile when I continue backing away, my hands going up.

  Just before I feel the impact, I stutter out a word, pretending to plead with them. “S-stop!”

  The pain of the van hitting me spreads throughout my body, but I don’t have time to think about it as I go flying back through the air. I get a glimpse of the men recoiling from the glass. My attention, however, is centered on something else—a male voice shouting.

  “What the fuck?”

  I hit the ground, knowing that if I were human, I would be knocked out, rolling a couple of times before coming to a stop. I bite my lip to stop the pain leaving my lips in a cry. I need to stay “knocked out,�
�� so I close my eyes and regulate my breathing.

  The pain begins to lessen gradually as my blood starts to heal the injuries I suffered. If only we didn’t get hurt. I hear footsteps come rushing to my side and turn me onto my back. I fight the urge to open my eyes so I can see the face looming over me.

  I recognized the voice, and it’s only now I remember where I heard it before. The beach. It is Reid, the leader of the men who rammed me. Where was he, and why show up now?

  “Shit! Why did you do that?” he shouts.

  The sound of the doors slamming for the third time echoes around the alley, and I feel Reid’s eyes move from my face. His rough hands stay on my face, holding it.

  “She’s a demon or something! She has horns, fangs, and her eyes change color,” one of the men explains.

  I try to relax when I feel myself start to stiffen as I wait for Reid’s response. Will he believe them? He doesn’t know me; he knows his men more. Does he trust them enough to believe even the most ridiculous of stories?

  His eyes return to my face, and I feel the intensity in them.

  “Does she look like one? What did you take?”

  “Well, she doesn’t now!” another tells him, almost patronizingly. I feel Reid’s grip tighten before leaving my face.

  “We didn’t take anything. We all saw her.” He’s just digging himself into a bigger hole, maybe even his grave. It seems like Reid is getting angry at his men. This feels like the perfect time for me to become “conscious” again.

  I stir slightly, trying to get Reid’s attention, before I open my eyes, fluttering my eyelashes slightly. I groan, bringing a hand up to my head where a headache is almost completely gone.

  “Ugh. What happened?”

  Reid’s ice blue eyes stare back at me, softer than I saw them earlier, concern shining from them.

  “You were hit by a van,” he responds, his deep voice quiet, anger leaking into it.

 

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