I felt the golden light within me start to mend my wounds, like a serpent of ice moving through my bones.
“You shall reap your champion from the pool of souls owed to me from Earth. Do you understand? Select carefully—we all have a lot riding on this victory.”
After several minutes of silence, I felt a noticeable drop in temperature. Hades and Persephone had gone, but my body hadn’t recovered enough to move.
The only thing worse than the dark and crowded tunnels of the Underworld was Earth. It didn’t take a god of wisdom to riddle out that all humans were weak and pathetic. They were always looking to the skies for help, groveling at the feet of gods instead of working for what they wanted. I made mistakes, but at least I was a man of action. Of all the scum who walked Earth, the worst were those who sold their souls to Hades. Oh, how I loathed when they showed their true selves during each reaping. Finding a champion among them was impossible. Especially one who could compete with Hercules and the other champions of Olympus.
The next night, when I began the reap, I found one worthless soul after another, as expected. They all pleaded for mercy and I claimed their souls on the spot, sending them to the Underworld as fodder for the hellhounds. I’d nearly given up hope as I stood in some parking lot in Chicago to collect my eighty-ninth soul. I hadn’t expected to find an anomaly.
I opened the scroll, the words glowing red on the page. “Yesenia Rodriguez,” I read. “On behalf of Hades, God of the Underworld, I am here to reap your—”
A balled fist collided with my jaw.
A girl’s voice sounded in the darkness. “What is wrong with you? Sneaking up on girls in a dark ass parking lot! Stay away from me or I’ll hit you again. I fucking swear.”
I shook my head with disbelief, wiping the twinge of pain from my chin. I’d broken the parking lot light to avoid witnesses, but now I regretted not getting a better look at the girl. I held out my hand and lit a fire in my palm.
You’re kidding. A girl stood in front of me, hiding behind her balled fists. Her brown eyes were intense and wide as she glared nervously at the fire in my hand. Her thick black eyelashes fanned out as she blinked at the flame in disbelief. “What are you, some second-rate magician? Stop that shit!”
I smiled, impressed by her tenacity. The others had simply whimpered or sobbed the moment I revealed myself. All the reaped souls came from people who made deals with Hades, and they all knew the time to pay was coming.
But, based on the bewilderment in this girl’s doe eyes, she had no idea why I was there.
“Turn around and go back to where you came from. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will,” she threatened.
My gaze traveled down her softly curved figure, which seemed too sparse of muscle definition to deliver such a powerful punch, as a twitch of my lips divulged my mirth. Her wild curls ran past her shoulders, her thick pouty lips dropping open at my amused response.
I took a deep breath and lifted my scroll. “It says twelve years ago, Gloriana Rodriguez traded the soul of one Yesenia Rodriguez to be claimed upon the expiration of her eighteenth year of life to resurrect a stillborn baby by the name of Araceli Rodriguez.”
The girl slowly lowered her fist.
“Are you not Yesenia?” I asked, starting to lose confidence.
“I am,” she said softly.
“Is it not your nineteenth birthday?”
She nodded.
I leaned in. “Well, congratulations. You get to spend your eternity in Hell, starting today.”
I grabbed her wrist but she ripped it from my grasp.
“The fuck I am,” she said.
I laughed. “Do you even know who I am?”
“A stalker who can do magic tricks?”
I leaned my face an inch from hers, glaring down into her fearless eyes. “I’m Jiro, Prince of the Underworld. And you, Yesenia, are coming with me.”
7
Yesenia
What. In. The. Actual. Fuck? I heard Jiro’s words, but my brain refused to process them.
Stillborn. No way. Araceli was perfectly healthy. She always had been, even as a baby. Plus this was the twenty-first century. Who the hell even sold the soul of their first born anymore? Ridiculous.
I wanted to brush off his words but I couldn’t. There was something inside me that was trying to pull me to the prince’s side. A part of me that recognized his words as truth. Or maybe the mention of Araceli had thrown me. Either way, it was by sheer stubborn willpower that I managed to plant my feet and stop myself from walking off to accompany him on the journey to Hell. My bartered soul knew it was time to go, but my heart rebelled. Araceli. I couldn’t abandon Araceli.
I won the battle with myself. As Jiro hovered over me, glaring into my eyes, I knew I couldn’t—wouldn’t—back down. I looked up into his ridiculously beautiful, endlessly dark eyes and tiptoed in an attempt to bring us face to face. The look in his eyes sent shivers up my spine. So much anger and hatred fueled him—I could see the raging inferno that lay behind his piercing glare.
I clenched my jaw as I stood as tall as possible, my 5’6 and a half frame still dwarfed by his, and glared into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Your Highness. Sorry. My schedule is full. Try nabbing my mother’s soul instead—if she even has one.” I didn’t break eye contact as I took a step back from him, my cheeks flushing in anger and unwanted attraction. I most definitely wanted to punch him in the face again but, damn, what a face. I guess when your daddy is a God, you win the genetics pool.
I didn’t really have time to think about my actions and, if we’re being honest, I knew it was a bad idea that was destined to fail, but I did something I had never done before. I turned tail and ran. I was scared for my sister. If I was taken away, there was no telling what her life would be like. My footsteps were the only sound echoing through the still night as I sprinted for my life. There was no sign of pursuit but I refused to slow down. I’d never been so happy to see my decrepit apartment building.
I slammed through the front door of the apartment and shut it behind me, making sure to lock the doorknob, deadbolt, and chain. I was not playing around. Did demigods have to be invited inside or is that just a vampire thing? All the folklore and mythology I had read over the years blurred as I freaked out.
I dashed into my bedroom and started throwing everything Araceli and I owned into a black construction-style garbage bag. We had no choice but to run. I’d be damned if I let the son of Hades take my soul—poorly timed pun intended. I didn’t know where we were going or how we were going to get there. All I knew was that we had to get the hell out of there before it was too late.
“Celi! Wake up! Get up! Now! Shoes on. Let’s go!” My words came out choppy as I panicked. Celi jumped up out of a dead sleep, a feat all on its own, and whipped her head around as she tried to decipher what was happening.
My thoughts were consumed by my little sister. I couldn’t leave her. I had to figure out a way to keep her safe. My mom wouldn’t walk her to the school bus, or help her with homework. Hell, she wouldn’t even feed the kid. I needed to get her out of here. Even if we lived the rest of our lives as vagabonds, at least I knew she’d be taken care of.
I looked over at my sister’s heart-shaped face and sighed. Her normally vibrant smile that was set upon the most adorable chubby cheeks was absent. She looked terrified. I took a breath to calm myself and knelt in front of her. Leaning forward slowly, I touched my forehead to hers. “I’m nineteen now, kid. We’re out of here. Put your shoes on.” Her lips tugged into a smile and the deep dimple that burrowed itself into her left cheek was there in full force.
I immediately felt bad. I hadn’t lied to her per se. I was nineteen and we definitely were getting out of there, but I had left out some crucial information. Whatever. It’s not like I was going to be like, “Hey, Celi. The Prince of Hell is after my soul because Mom sold it when you were born dead so that you’d live. Now we have to get the fuck out of here and pray, to whoe
ver is listening, that the demon boy doesn’t care enough to chase me down.” She would have been terrified, and I was freaked out enough for the both of us.
I got Araceli ready and guided her to the back door. Normally, she could walk the apartment on her own, but I was too on edge.
We stepped out of the door and onto the patio. There was nothing but a dim lightbulb to cast its light over the rotting wood. The apartment was on the second floor, so I placed Celi’s hand on the banister to allow her to guide herself down as I dashed ahead of her with the bag of our clothes and other essentials to scope out our surroundings. I didn’t want anything to catch me unaware. I had a demon after my soul and lived in a rough ass neighborhood. Wouldn’t that be something? Killed in a drive-by and he gets my soul anyway? Pass.
Once my sister reached the bottom of the stairs, I took her arm. The backyard led directly to the alley, with no gate to separate it. I took a step away from the stairs toward the urine-scented path to freedom when the lights in the alley went dark. In less than sixty seconds, the lights flared back into existence, creating a halo of light that washed over Jiro.
“Shit,” I hissed through my teeth before telling Araceli to sit on the stairs and not move—no matter what. It was almost a strange sense of deja vu to see Jiro leaning against the light pole. Once more, I fell into my fighting stance. “Just leave me alone. I can’t go. I have responsibilities.”
8
Jiro
Yesenia stormed toward me, cursing under her breath in frustration. I’m sure it was not meant to be adorable, but it kind of was. “Fancy seeing you here,” I said. “I see you brought a little blind girl for backup. Nice.”
“Knock it off,” she said. “That’s my sister over there. She needs me. I’m not going to leave her here, and I’m definitely not going to drag her into any of this Underworld crap.”
I eyed the girl who sat at the bottom of some stairs, listening attentively. “Awe, she’s like a little you. Only… you know... less angry.”
Her lips quirked up at my words, a smile hinting at making an appearance, before she closed off her expression and hid all emotion from her face. “This isn’t a joke. This is my life.”
“I feel for you, I really do. But I have responsibilities and you’re holding me up.” My flat tone contradicted my caring sentiment as I returned my gaze to hers.
She stepped closer, sending a sudden rush of heat to my face. “Please,” she whispered. “Her life is hard enough.”
I stared into her brown eyes, my attitude softening as her sincerity tugged at my heart strings. I mean, “please” was a sentiment that most mortals used when begging for more time, but it was never for the sake of someone else. What’s worse was, from the looks of my scroll, she didn’t even sell her own soul, meaning none of this was her fault. I eyed her scrawny arms and small frame. There was no way she’d last a minute in the Trials. I had no choice but to reap her and keep looking.
She crossed her arms. “If you’re really Prince of the Underworld, you should have some sway.”
“I am the Prince of the Underworld.”
“Is everyone in the Underworld a prince?”
“No, just me.”
She tilted her head. “So can you help me or not?”
I sighed. This girl. Her determination alone could bring down the goddamn cosmos. It was too bad that Hades would never let me pick her... with a little training, she might be able to do some damage, but enough to ease Hades’ suspicions that I wanted him to lose? I mean, though scrappy, Yesenia would definitely lose and most likely die, but at the end of the day all this girl was really asking for was a shot, right? As far as I was concerned, it was a win-win situation. While Yesenia had a sort of conviction that intrigued me, I wasn’t sure if she was worth the risk. If I decided to damn the universe and rescue my mother instead, Yesenia wouldn’t be the best choice. My mother’s human form was at stake—I couldn’t choose just anyone.
“You thought of something, didn’t you?” she asked, her gaze sweeping across my face. “What is it? Whatever it is, I’ll—”
Shit. She couldn’t read me, could she? “It’s impossible.”
“Tell me.”
Sheesh. “There’s this tournament every 200 years. Mortal and half-mortal champions alike compete on behalf of the gods who select them.”
“I’ll do it.”
“I can’t. You’re too… small. My father would never pick you. He’d think I was trying to sabotage his chance of winning.”
A police car raced by with sirens blaring, flashing blue and red light across her face as it passed. “Well, change his mind then.”
I rubbed a frustrated hand over my face. “Hades can’t be reasoned with.”
She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Maybe you’re just not convincing.”
I grinned. “Oh, are you going to go ask him?”
“I will.”
I chuckled. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.” Her gaze bore into me, and I felt a shudder run down my spine. Wow. She really was something. This mortal girl was staring into the face of a god yet I was the one who felt daunted. That soul of hers, like her, was far from typical and—at the very least—Hades might get a kick out of her.
“Fine.”
She rolled onto the balls of her feet. “And what about Araceli?”
“Is there anyone who can look after her for a while?”
Her hands dropped to her hips. “How long is a while?”
“Long enough for you to convince Hades to let you compete.”
A foul-smelling man stumbled past us with a bottle wrapped in a paper bag tightly gripped in his hand. I pulled Yesenia from his path and willed my fingers not to linger on her waist.
I scanned the garbage-stacked streets, noting the overrun neighborhood. Damn. I thought Hell was a shithole.
“If I convince him, can I come back?” she asked.
“If he says yes, I’ll let you visit her a few times throughout the tournament.”
“And what happens when I win?”
I shrugged. There was no need to offer her anything special. She was beyond desperate. “You’ll get your soul back.”
“No, I mean… what do you get if I win?”
I clenched my jaw, suddenly aware that I’d disclosed too much. “Look, Yesenia, this is the best deal you’re going to get. I suggest you take it because my patience for your little human problems is wearing thin. Are you in or are you out?”
She turned to look at her sister before she held her hand out for me to shake.
I took her hand. “Look at that. Now you’ve officially made a deal with the devil.”
9
Yesenia
I rolled my eyes at his words, a small smirk playing at the edge of my lips as I replied, “Hilarious.”
Nothing about this situation was funny, but I had a dark sense of humor. I was the sort of person who would crack death jokes at a funeral. Whenever I got scared or sad, poor humor was my default, so I had a morbid appreciation for his snark.
I looked into his eyes and was shocked to see the anger and hatred that had shown through his gaze from the very moment I’d met him... had faded. He didn’t look happy or particularly friendly, but he did look less inclined to snatch up my soul. I tried to read the look he gave before realizing our hands were still clasped together. I pulled my hand back somewhat roughly before I broke eye contact. “Give me a minute.”
I walked over to my little sister. She looked so small and frightened as she sat on the bottom step, hugging her knees to her chest. Her entire posture screamed defeat but, instead of letting that break me, I used her despair to strengthen my will. I would not fail her. I would enter this divine contest and I would win. There was no other option.
“Nena linda,” I whispered the same way I had when she was a small child. Squatting down in front of her, I placed my hands on her knees and pressed my forehead against hers—giving her comfort as much as I was taking from her.
“We have to go. You’re going to have to stay with Andres and Manny for a little bit, okay? I’ll be back to visit and, once this is over, we’ll get out of here. It’ll be the two of us—always, mi corazon.” My heart. If anything happened to Araceli, I wouldn’t have any reason to live. Celi was the only bright spot in my dismal life and, without her, my world would turn to ash.
Araceli lifted her chin and tightened her jaw the same way I did when trying to appear tough. With a stiff nod, she threw her arms around me. Her knees were still between us so I smiled and lifted her up, holding her on my hip.
Celi was small for her age, only around 4’6” and somewhere around eighty pounds. I held her easily, especially because she clung to me. I had missed this. When we were younger, she always wanted to be held. A happy tingling feeling tightened in my chest as I stroked her hair. I may be her older sister but I loved her like she was my child. I took her to every doctor’s appointment and went to every parent-teacher conference. I was the one who made sure she’d eaten and kept a roof over her head with clothes on her back. She was mine, and I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.
I continued to carry her, her little face buried into my neck as I stooped down to grab the bag I had hastily packed and walked over to Jiro. I held the bag out to him. With a twelve-year-old little monkey girl clinging to my side, I was so not carrying the bag too. “A little help? The guys live a few blocks away. We can drop Celi off and then go speak to your father.”
There was a strange look on his face. Something told me Hades probably hadn’t been a warm, fuzzy, loving father. After a pause, he reached out and grabbed the plastic garbage bag from my hand. “Lead the way.”
With a nod, I walked down the alley still carrying Araceli. She was dead silent and, if not for the way she clung tightly to my neck, I would have thought she fell asleep.
The Trials of Olympus Page 3