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Hades’ Daughter (The War of Fate)

Page 30

by Charlotte Carol


  “What’s wrong with him?” she asks as we work together on moving out of the house and to the growing pile of bodies.

  “He’s being a hypocritical, stubborn idiot. So, nothing,” I joke.

  She laughs as we drop the body. I walk back into the entrance hall with Diniya by my side. I look around and marvel at how it feels like the fight never happened. The only difference would be the bullet holes, blood, and bodies.

  I see that Reid is talking to one of the members by the staircase. Diniya leaves me, walking to help someone else. I cross my arms as I watch him. I might have been a bit harsh with him. I am just about to apologize when a movement out of the corner of my eye and shouts of terror catches my attention.

  I look over and see one of the “corpses” sitting up, lifting their arm to point the gun in his hand at Reid. Not caring about the people surrounding me and what they will think, I lift my own hand and shoot a ball of fire at the man. Hopefully, it will distract him enough to get him to lower the gun. When the—what I assume to be—demon moves out of the way, still aiming his gun, I am torn. Do I go to the demon to stop him, or go to Reid to try and save him?

  What happened next seems to be in slow motion and makes my mind up for me. As soon as I hear the loud bang, I run toward Reid, racing the bullet to the destination. If I can just get there and knock him out of the way, it will be okay. I am in reaching distance when I see the bullet enter Reid’s chest, where his heart is, and he slumps to the floor. I catch him, kneeling down to keep the blood in him as long as possible. I block out the screams as I lay his head on my lap, holding it. If I can just keep the blood in him, maybe the demon blood can heal him enough that he doesn’t have to die. However, I am aware that he doesn’t have nearly enough of my blood to save him fully.

  “Reid…Reid…Stay with me,” I choke out, around the tears. I cover the wound, bringing my hand to my lips, biting it so I can get him some of my blood. I move it back down and to his lips, but Reid’s heart is getting weaker, and the blood isn’t getting into him nearly fast enough. My emotions being heightened means that my demon side is stronger and has the wound healing from my bite faster than usual. I bring my now healed wrist to my mouth again. I can’t lose him. I’ve already lost one person too many with Kyle. At his name, I ponder what would have happened if I had chosen the other option and just drank the Demons’ Torment. Would Reid still be alive?

  He coughs, and I see blood start to trickle down his chin. I see my tears start to drop onto his face as I smell the blood in his body. There are four different scents in his blood, other than mine and Reid’s. He doesn’t have enough blood to turn him into a demon. I don’t want to see him become a soul yet.

  “I love you,” he starts weakly. “I want you to know that.”

  “Bianca!” I scream loudly. She’s the only one around who knows about me and can possibly help. I need someone to reassure me. I turn back to Reid. “I love you too. Please don’t leave me yet. I don’t want you to. We were…” I stop when I hear his heartbeat start to drop before suddenly stopping. I cry out and begin to shake him, wanting it to be a joke and for him, or me, to wake up. I thought I would have more time and that my blood would keep him alive longer.

  “No. No. No. Please! Dad! Zeus! Do something! I hate you! Why couldn’t you stop this!” I shout, looking around for the person who took him from me. He’s disappeared. I see Bianca running through the front door, but I ignore her as I lean down to place a kiss on Reid’s still lips. I feel more tears fall when they don’t respond.

  “I’ll get you back,” I murmur the promise against his lips. I fall back and away from him, my head going to my hands, running my fingers through my hair.

  “Oh my God,” I hear Bianca breathe out as she takes in the scene. I look up to see her checking for a pulse.

  “He’s not dead,” I convince her and myself.

  “He has no pulse. That usually means that they are,” she tells me gently, noting how upset I am.

  “I’m going to get him back. He’s not been sorted yet,” I tell her determinedly, shoving the tears off my face. I ignore the curious looks I am getting from the people who have crowded around us.

  “Can you do that?” she asks.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll try,” I tell her. I don’t care about anyone finding out, or what happens, as long as I get Reid back.

  I close my eyes, the image of Styx Lake in my mind.

  ***

  My feet hitting the soft ground causes my eyes to fly open, and I begin to look at every face in each line. I go back over them again and again, looking at the new people, and when I am sure that everyone has been seen, I move to the closest demon and demand for their tablet. I look at the last half an hour to see if I can find Reid’s name, finding it weird that he’s not here. I want to see with my own eyes Reid’s name with the hundreds of others. I don’t want it to seem like he’s the only one that’s died, and that would be the case if I were to search his name. I move through the thousands of names, looking at each one. I finally find his name—Reid Brice. It says that he has died but not been sorted yet. Getting even more confused, because I’m sure that he’s not here, I pass the tablet back to the guard. Maybe he slipped through, but that’s never happened. Reid’s one of a kind though. I hear the boat making its way back to the dock, and I greet it at the end. They are usually good at remembering everyone who has gone through, and they should remember someone like Reid. I ask the demon who jumps off the boat if she has seen Reid, describing him.

  “No, sorry, Scar,” she apologizes. I’m getting more and more befuddled. What’s happened to him? He can’t have left any other way; the gates don’t let any souls through.

  “Dad!” I shout so if he’s in Hell he can hear. All the souls turn to look at me, but my determination on finding Reid has me focusing on my dad’s reply.

  “What?” he whines, causing the ground to rumble with the volume.

  “I need your help!” I shout back.

  “Ugh. Fine,” he relents as he appears beside me. “What is it?”

  “Reid died,” I state, forcing down the tears.

  “Oh, I liked McDonald’s boy,” he says, disappointed. “If you’re asking if I can bring him back to life: one, I can’t do that. Ask your uncle. And two, I wouldn’t if I could.” I don’t register what he’s telling me enough to ask why he wouldn’t bring Reid back to life.

  “You have no one to bring back. He’s gone.”

  “That’s impossible,” he says.

  Yeah, like I don’t already know that, Dad.

  “That’s why I need your opinion. The tablet said he was dead but not sorted, and he’s not down here,” I explain.

  He produces a tablet out of thin air and starts it up.

  “What’s his full name?” I supply it for my dad, who then types it in. His eyebrows draw together when he gets the result.

  “See,” I agree with him.

  “Are you sure he’s dead? It says here that he’s not dead and never has been,” my dad says as he moves the tablet so I can see what he’s talking about. No results found. I check how my dad spelled it, but it was all correct.

  “How—no. I saw him die right in front of me. He’s dead! His name was there,” I say, getting angry.

  “Okay,” he agrees before turning to a passing soul. “Are there good asylums on Earth?”

  I punch him in the arm, angry at him mocking me instead of trying to believe me.

  “I’m not mad! I didn’t imagine the whole fight!” I hold myself back from yelling as I cross my arms. He nods, obviously not believing me.

  “Okay, have some blood. You look a bit peaky,” he comments before walking away.

  I groan throwing my hands up into the air. Wondering if I did imagine it, or if Reid wasn’t actually dead when I left, I teleport back to the gang house.

  I look around and see that the entrance hall is empty. My head starts to hurt as I notice that all the blood has disappeared and there is no sign of t
he fight ever happening. I know earlier I said that I wasn’t obvious, but this is taking the piss. There are no signs of it happening, not even bullet holes. I run out of the front door and see Bianca lying on the grass, sunbathing, where she was when I first arrived, and no sign of the pile of bodies which was growing when I left. I slowly walk up to her.

  “How did you get it all cleared up?” I ask.

  “Hm? I didn’t hear you arrive. What do you mean? Aren’t you meant to be with Reid?” she asks as she leans up on her elbows.

  “The remains of the fight,” I tell her, feeling stupid as a result of everyone not believing me.

  “What are you talking about? Did Reid and you fight on your date?” she asks, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head.

  “The fight, where Reid died…” I prompt.

  “What? Reid died? What did you two do on your date?” she panics.

  I look at her, feeling extremely confused.

  “I did not imagine that whole fucking fight!” I exclaim in anger.

  She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anything. Maybe you should get some sleep,” she suggests.

  I let out another loud groan. What is with everyone?

  I stomp towards my bike and speed toward my home.

  ***

  I arrive in my drive to see that my door is open. I approach cautiously, smelling the air.

  Kyle!

  I ready myself to attack him if he is still there and enter the house. I listen and hear nothing, only my own heartbeat. He must have come and left without staying long as the scent is not strong. The scent of blood is stronger. Dread fills my veins, imagining the worst, that it’s Reid’s. The smell, however, is too sour to be his. Relief makes me continue forward to find out where the smell is coming from. I walk into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of blood to see if maybe my dad was right. Maybe the Demons’ Torment was still in my system.

  I sip the liquid as I go to walk back out, but the smell of the blood is strongest here and an arrow painted with it on the wall has me stopping. I follow the direction of the arrow and see that it is pointing to a cupboard. I creep closer, opening the door slowly, feeling fearfully curious. The head of the man I saw kill Reid is lying at my feet. Attached to his head with a pin is a note. I rip it off and read it, my fear replaced with rage.

  Do you doubt yourself yet? Maybe this will help.

  Wondering where lover boy is? I can help with that as well. He’s with me, and very mad.

  See you on the battle field.

  With love,

  K x

  Kyle! That bastard! He was behind it and now has Reid. Kyle somehow made everyone believe I was mad. I am going to find him, and when I do, I will kill Kyle the longest and most painful way I can think of. If he wants a war, then I’ll give him one—one that he won’t win.

  The End

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  Preface

  It was nearly midnight. The streets were empty except for the occasional car going by. The warm rain of the evening had continued into the night, turning into icy drops that pattered against the pavement. The water gathered in the street, where blocked gutters released trash and debris that floated lazily along. Flooded streets ran on as steady red lights from above turned it all into a river of blood.

  A restaurant sat thirty feet away from the burning traffic light. The darkness in front of the glass windows was chased away by the lights coming from inside. Beyond the doors, with a sign already flipped to “closed,” a man and woman sat together. At the table, the man was laughing, his voice pitched low to match the reserved feeling of the restaurant. The woman gazed back at him, her eyes lighting up as the sound reached her ears. He continued speaking quietly as the woman’s arms encircled her extending abdomen, her eyes going unfocused. For the moment, it was as if she couldn’t hear him speaking to her, lost in some place he couldn’t see. She sighed, and the man quieted.

  “He’s coming any day now, Peter,” she said, her voice even lower than his had been. She shook her head slightly, a smile pulling up the corners of her lips. He laughed again, but this time, it filled the empty restaurant. As distant as her eyes were, Peter could still see the adoration in them.

  “It could also be because your doctor said to expect him next week,” he suggested, his smile lingering and growing wider as she rolled her eyes at him.

  “I’m a mother,” she chastised lightly. “Don’t be such a spoil sport.” She reached across the table and took his hand in hers, running her thumb over his wedding band. Peter looked up from where their hands met to watch her. Her eyes were intent on the ring on his finger, but her face was relaxed and open. Seeing that tranquility there, he was taken back to the days when she was always tense; looking over her shoulders. Her high school years and even her years before that hadn’t been pleasant, and he’d done all he could to wipe that offending misery from her eyes. He remembered all the crazy things he’d done just to take her attention from whatever was bothering her; to see her smile. Even though he’d ended up in detention more times than not, he didn’t regret loving Elizabeth.

  Looking back to their joined hands, Peter brought his other to cover hers. It was small and dainty in his grasp, but the smooth skin his fingers traveled over was familiar and wonderful. Elizabeth raised her eyes to him, remembering how early it had been when she was woken by her husband.

  * * *

  Her eyes opened to see him kneeling beside the bed, much like it had been three years ago when she found not only her husband but her engagement ring as well. That morning, she enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running lightly over her hair and whispered a good morning. She hadn’t been sure what to make of the expression he wore. Still, she raised her hands to massage away the lines between his brows and then to rest it against his cheek.

  “We’re going to be parents soon,” he said quietly to her. “We’ve waited for this a long time.” He grew quiet as he watched her, and she mulled over the words silently, feeling something pleasant bloom in her center. Unconsciously, her other arm came to rest on her stomach, holding on to the life inside her. “We’ve wanted this for a long time,” he continued, eyes coming from the distance to gaze into hers. “There’s something I wanted to tell you since I met you.”

  “What is it?” Elizabeth asked, attempting to rise. Peter stopped her with a small smile before he leaned in to press his lips to her head. He stayed that way for a short while, the silence stretching while her mind wandered. Elizabeth believed she knew everything about her husband that she needed to know and she put her trust in that. Whatever he wanted to tell her wouldn’t destroy them, not when they had everything they wanted and needed. As if he was reading her mind, he leaned back, and his smile shifted, becoming more genuine.

  “It’s nothing that can’t wait,” he conceded.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “I am. Get some rest.” He stood, beginning to turn to the door. At the last second, he turned back, leaning against the doorjamb. “I’ll be late tonight, but I’m going to take you out.”

  * * *

  “Ellie,” his voice reached her, and she pulled herself from the past to see the amused smile on his lips. “Are you here now?” he questioned.

  “Yes,” she answered with a breathless laugh. She shook her head, and the smile slowly went away. A feeling had started in her gut; a feeling she hadn’t had since she was in high school. It confused her because no situation with Peter had ever felt like this before. He used to be the one who chased it away. “What were you going to tell me this morning?”

  Elizabeth hadn’t taken her eyes off the table, so she didn’t see how Peter straightened in his seat, eyes automatically darting for the
front window of the restaurant. The hand holding hers went still, and that made the woman across from him finally look up, curiosity spilling over. It wasn’t until she met his eyes and saw what was in them that a feeling, a terrible feeling, came over her completely and kept her pinned in her seat. There was uneasiness in him, but it was the naked fear in his eyes that made her realize he was afraid. Of what, she wasn’t sure, but it was pressing on her mind. Releasing his hand, she raised his head, which had gone to studying the table in front of him. Elizabeth held his jaw between her fingers so he would look at her. “What’s wrong, Peter?”

  “It’s just an old story,” he ground out finally when she refused to release him. The fear was still there, but other nameless emotions created a repeating track in his eyes. Elizabeth felt the ripple of Peter’s throat as he swallowed. “My father would tell it to me when I was just a kid. I’m not even sure what he said was the truth because it didn’t sound possible.” His eyes flickered around the restaurant and stopped for a long second before moving on. Elizabeth turned to see what he’d seen, and she met the eyes of their waiter, a sixteen-year-old boy that lived next door to them, but they knew little about.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “It’s late. We can finish this at home.”

  She released him and began to stand, but a sharp pain left her to fall back into her chair, a moan working its way through her lips. Peter stood abruptly, coming around the table to kneel beside her.

  “Ellie? Ellie, are you all right?” Peter watched with rapt attention as she shook her head. He looked around quickly and then raised his hand to rest against her cheek softly. Before he stood and wheeled for the door, he pressed his lips to her head, their conversation forgotten. Elizabeth nodded even after he was gone, curling in on herself as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. An ache began slowly as her baby kicked relentlessly inside her.

 

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