Hades Sent : Book One of the Sent Series, page 4
I throw another log into the fireplace and watch it smoke. Soon, it will catch flame and sizzle under the pressure of the immense heat. Fire. Hades, I love fire. It’s the only real reprieve for me on Earth. Fire is home. And home is Hell.
Yet, I am here in this apartment above a clothes shop for women. I suppose I could go and get a drink with the humans. It’s entertaining to watch them waste themselves on such hobbies. When I’m there, they tend to drink more, feel more, and think less. That could mean a fun night for me. But I find myself only able to think of her. She’s my focus and rightfully so. My master wants her desperately. He ordered and asked for me especially for the task of turning her. “She’s half us,” my master informed me. “Let’s see if she can be turned to the demon side. That one is highly desirable and the time is right for her to join her other family. You have my orders. Do whatever it takes.”
I smile to myself, still thinking of his words. Corruption is my area of expertise. I poke at the fire a bit more before stretching out on the new couch I stole this afternoon. The humans never realized I was there. It’s too easy. Ireland will be my most interesting prey. The girl is simply buying time for now. All prey do. They linger, while being timid. She is scared, that’s all. My plan is easy. Wait her out. Wait until the mouse comes out to play.
Chapter Six
Ireland
I’ve been battling my own thoughts for hours, trying to decide what to do. Faith came by this morning and wants me to meet her. Dad told me to stay put for fear of the higher authority throwing me out. But, what do I want?
I know I want answers and I can get them with Faith. She knows more than what she told me. Somehow, she will bring me the peace and answers I’ve been wanting. And right now, answers are what I need most of all.
Decided, I swing my legs out of bed and stand. My room sways slightly as I try to keep my balance. Apparently, my body still isn’t over whatever Greve did to me. Thus, another reason I want to talk more to Faith. She’s been to Earth and she’s met her dad. Maybe she knows something about being a hybrid, too. If Dad won’t tell me things, I will have to look elsewhere.
Okay. You will do this, I command myself. They have been trying to find a reason to throw me out anyway. Might as well give them an actual reason to punish me. I remove my old clothes and exchange them for a pair of black jeans and a white crop shirt. I pull my hair in a bun at the top of my head with the idea my red hair my go unnoticed that way.
Now, all that is left is to wait for the darkness to come. All my life I’ve been waiting. Waiting for answers and wanting better things to come along. Life can’t be just about waiting for something to happen. Life is too short for that. The people who really live, make things happen on their own. And getting my wings will happen. Even if I don’t get to have them for very long, those wings are mine.
~~*~~
There’s someone knocking on my door. Most likely it’s Dad to tell me goodnight. Darkness has finally fallen and I’ve been waiting until this hour in order to make my escape to go see Faith. I hop back into bed, quickly covering myself before telling Dad he can come in.
The door swings open and Dad walks in timid at first, before shutting the door behind him. He peers at me. “Are you okay?”
I wave my hand for him to come closer. “Yeah, just thinking.”
Dad smiles. “Always thinking, my dear. Of what, if I may ask?”
Biting my lip, I answer, “Mom. Tell me … something about her.” So much information has been omitted. It’s only fair that I get to know her, even if it’s through the eyes of my father.
Dad comes to sit beside me on the bed. The mattress sinks under his weight. He doesn’t look at me at first. “Ireland, you know this is hard for me.”
“But … Dad …”
“However,” he interrupts. “You are almost grown. You are a seventeen-year-old girl who deserves to know more about what has happened and what is happening around you. Let’s make an arrangement. I will tell you something new every day until I run out of things to tell you. Does that seem fair?”
I nod. “Okay. Yes. I will take whatever you give me.”
“Scoot over,” he says while lying down beside me. He puts one arm around me while my head rests on his chest. Being this close to my dad makes me realize how much I’ve really missed him.
He squeezes my arm. “For your safety, I’m still going to have to omit some things from you. If the higher authority knew I was telling you anything about her, you can be sure that all trust, if there is any left, would be gone. I didn’t tell you earlier for that reason. It’s too dangerous. Imagine if you’d been a child and started talking about her unaware of the impact it would cause? Any talk of demons or humans is forbidden. I did enough bringing you back with me. I couldn’t stand the idea of them taking you from me. But I feel now is the time that you know and understand the real dangers of it all.”
Dad swallows, and continues, “Okay … so … if you ever wanted to find her, you can by the name of Jade. Keep in mind that is not her real name. Jade is the only name you need to know. You look a lot like her. Sometimes it’s hard for me to look at you without seeing her.”
I stutter, “I figured … my hair color was hers. You are saying we look a lot alike?” The thought gives me a chill. I don’t know if I want to look like a full demon.
“Now, I didn’t say that.” He shakes his head. “What I mean is that you favor her. Your hair obviously is hers, but other things. Your mind control for starters is another. You already figured that out in your own. The way you contemplate which route to take, which way to complete tasks. Your self-control. Your determination. Beauty, and might I even say the stubborn part of your personality. That is your mother. Child, can’t you see that she provided you with the best of her own genetics?” Dad looks sad then, thinking about Mom.
“She provided her genetics, but you provided me with much more.” I lean in to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for sharing. You miss her, don’t you?”
Dad sighs. “Everyday. What we had was real. What we had didn’t last long enough. Demons can change, love. We angels can change them. Your mother was a different person when she was with me.”
“How? How can they change?”
“That story is meant for another time.”
“Would you change it? If you could, would you take it back? She hurt you I can see that. You hurt every day and you live in the one mistake, the one mishap of your life. Your choice to be with her cost you so much. Do you regret it, Dad?”
Dad shakes his head. “I regret nothing. Our love was not a mistake or misjudgment. It was real. So what if it wasn’t right according to them. We loved each other at one time, Ireland. That love got me you. You can’t regret following what you knew was right.”
“I love you, Dad,” I whisper while tearing up inside. The moisture threatens to leave my eyes.
“And I love you more.” Dad sits up then. “It’s time to go to bed. Who knows when the higher authority will come to talk to you. Best be rested.”
Yes, but I won’t be. This is for certain. “You’re right. You headed to bed too?”
Dad shrugs while getting out of the bed. “Might as well. It’s been a long day.” He kisses me one more time before walking back out.
It has been a long day, I agree silently. More importantly, it has been a long and hard life for Dad. I intend to change that for both of us.
Chapter Seven
Greve
Days. It’s been days since Ireland left. Days are what it feels like when I wait for her in this apartment. In reality, it’s only been twenty-four hours and I’m getting bored. She should have been back by now if my mind control did anything.
I shake my head in aggravation. Apparently, she’s stronger than I thought. She will come, I have no doubt. It’s all been arranged. Ireland won’t be able to hide out much longer. Her safety net will be severed and then she will have no choice. My heart beats faster just thinking of the moment. Her skin smells so sweet. Her blood runs both hot and frantic. She panics quickly, but recovers. Ireland is … more than I thought she would be. And I don’t know if that is good or bad.
My phone rings, breaking my thoughts. I answer not even looking at the number. He’s the only one that calls me. “She’s healing and will arrive within two days’ time. Be ready,” my master’s voice croaks on the other end.
“Fine. Anything else?”
He laughs on the line. “Yes. Go find someone to torture. You sound bored. When you are bored, you act less like yourself. That’s never good because that’s when you become less useful. Understand? We can’t be having that, can we?”
“Understood.” I snap the phone shut before he can give me any more orders. He’s right of course. He still knows what I crave. Damn, he might be the best master I’ve ever had.
~~*~~
An alarm blares in my ears as the window glass falls onto the street. Being at a shopper’s paradise has its advantages. There are several stores to choose from, but this one stood out to me. It’s like a Macy’s on steroids. I despise that store. Overpriced and full of over inflated personalities … that’s probably why I slammed my hand into the glass window. Seeing it destroyed fills me with immediate satisfaction. My feet hit the store floor, heading to the men’s department.
My body slides through the clothes racks, back and forth, whizzing through stacks and stacks of polo shirts and jeans. These humans all dress the same. They also follow the same routines. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy … and are they ever so dull right down to their clothes.
There must be something here to wear. My nostrils flare. This is taking way too long. Suddenly, a shout rises through the blare of the alarm. I scan the room to find a middle-aged cop, complete with donut belly, jet black hair, and sharp aim, pointing a gun at me. Perfect. As if this is a sign from below, I notice that the cop is standing right next to the suits. Right where I want to be.
My feet pick up the pace until my body is just a blur. Air rushes all around me, and every now and then I catch the man’s shouts. A pop sound feels the air and the projectile hits me right in the collar bone. Pain, sweet pain. The cop actually pulled the trigger. Not bad. Before the man has time to react, I turn the corner and swipe the gun out of his hand and point it right at him. “Don’t move!”
The man squirms and holds his hands up, begging me not to shoot. “Please,” he says, “I have a family. Kids. A wife.”
I shake my head and put my fingers to my lips. “Shh. Talk any more right now, and I will shoot you. You already gave me quite a nasty hit. I don’t care about your family. What I want to know is … the bad things in your life.”
“I don’t understand,” he stutters.
Maybe he won’t be what I need. Other voices come from across the street, trying to make toward the store. “Call off all the other coppers before I shoot them all dead.” I point the gun at him, smiling as he flinches. This is almost too easy.
“Wait!” shouts the cop. “Stay outside! I’m coming!” he orders in his best command voice.
The other cops shout back, agreeing to stay back for the moment. Although they will come in soon—I can read it in their heads.
“Now, where were we? Tell me the worst thing you’ve done in your life and maybe I will let you live,” I remind the cop.
He looks at me, confused. “I tell you the worse act I’ve ever committed and you won’t kill me?”
I point the gun at him again for good measure. “And I will know if you lie.”
As his memories and thoughts swirl in his head, I am all but disappointed to see this man isn’t really all that evil.
“Alright,” he pauses, “I lied to get into cop academy. I got in because of someone I knew, not on my own.”
I can tell by how the thoughts flow he is telling the truth. He feels anguish at what he told me, and that feeling is enough to at least satisfy me for the time being.
“Look at me, cop,” I order, still having the gun locked on him. He looks at me, perplexed. “You will not remember me. The robber got away and ran north. You will not find him so don’t try. The anguish you feel for lying satisfies my cravings enough to let you live. Perhaps we will meet again in a much darker time in your life.”
The cop looks away long enough for me to snatch charcoal slacks and a button-up red dress shirt from the racks. I glance back at him one more time, not completely satisfied. Before running to the exit, one pop rings through the air. I look around to see the source and realize with trembling hands, it was from me. Gun pointed right at the cop who’s now bleeding on the floor. Bullet wound to the collar bone—a matching injury. Sometimes, I take things too far before I’ve realized I’ve done it. This is one of those times. The cop is still as stone and blank faced, still under my influence. I let him go. Even my speed from running away isn’t enough to stop his screams from catching up to me.
Chapter Eight
Greve
I step into my apartment and close the door. Placing the stolen clothes in a clean place is top priority. Once they are on the couch and away from chances of getting blood smeared, my thoughts run wild. That was almost too easy, but nonetheless, it felt good. The cop’s anguish is just what I needed to feel better. My body craves emotions, preferably ones that focus on misery or fear. I’ve learned over time that without some sort of intense feelings or situations to surround myself with, I begin to feel kind of sluggish. It’s like when humans need coffee to wake up in the morning or goals to thrive. It’s the same thing to me. Intense, burning, and raw feelings … they are what keep me alive.
The cop helped me along in intensifying those feelings with this gunshot wound to the collar bone. My fingertip touches the spot that is covered with my blood. My heart seems to beat there for the time being and the pain is getting worse. But I won’t die from it. Nothing will happen. The spot will throb and fester until it heals on its own.
I poke the fire again. The heat will help. The ashes twinkle almost like stars when they flow up the chimney. Red and black swirl together—it’s beyond calming. The fire dies back down after a while, making me feel sluggish again. My little outing wasn’t enough. Sure, I had planned to go out again which is why I got the clothes to begin with. But I was hoping I could stand to wait a little longer. When Ireland comes back, I want to be near so she can’t get away from me again.
The fire hisses at me, breaking my thoughts. “Yes,” I reply back to the flames. “The time has come to have some fun. You’ve talked me into it.”
The wood logs pop and crackle with encouragement. Who needs parents when I have the fire to talk back to me? Demons do not have their own hell or heaven. We just have our own section of the Earth and in that section, fire runs wild. We live with it, consumed in the flame. Demons can touch it and not be harmed. We can use it to heal, to communicate. Fire guides us.
Unfortunately, fire destroys things where I am now so I cannot let the fire go free. Well, I guess I could really. A smile comes to my lips. That would be terrible … just terrible and … tempting. The humans would ruin it though. They have water. A chill runs down my spine. If the humans only knew … Small amounts of water are okay. I can deal with small amounts like a drink or sip of something. A quick shower becomes difficult but because I don’t have enough flame to cleanse me completely, I have to bathe like the humans to not stand out. Anything beyond that can hinder me. Demons and water do not mix. Same concept as the way humans and fire don’t mix. Personally, I feel like the humans really miss out.
What are humans to me anyway? The fire hisses at me again. “Alright,” I say out loud. “No need to rush me.” I stoke the fire again before heading to the small bathroom. It’s nothing fancy. Tub, sink, and toilet. I don’t need anything more than that. If I want to get the right amount of attention tonight, I need to dress and act the part. That includes bathing the way these humans do. I touch the faucet and cut the shower on no more than a slow trickle.
Stripping quickly is impossible. My shirt sticks to the dried blood on my chest and when it finally comes free, a big hole forms where the blood used to be. I toss it in the sink along with my pants and edge toward the back of the shower.
The water flows in soft beads down the drain. This shouldn’t be too bad. Just be quick I command myself. My hand goes in first, long enough to make it moist. As soon as the water hits my skin, the dizzy feeling begins. That is how it starts. Dizziness happens first and then comes the feeling that the life is being sucked right out of me.
It takes about a minute to clean off the blood and dirt and to cut the water off. In that time, two breaks were needed. Going out now is necessary. It’s no longer an option. Of all the things to bother me, water has to be it. I towel off and sit in front of my fire, hoping it will dry my hair quickly. By the time my hair is dry, I feel somewhat better and so does my wound. The skin is puckered now, which means the bullet is working its way out.
When I look out my window, I notice darkness is falling again. My favorite time is starting. City night life is chock-full of mistakes and misery. It’s a time of sweet perfection. I dress in the black slacks and red button-up shirt I acquired today. Not bad. Matches my mood, I think, as I comb through my hair. Once the sun sets, it will be time. My fun is just beginning.
Chapter Nine
Ireland
The sounds of my father snoring echoes through the hallway as I walk past toward the door. He’s been asleep for about an hour now and in that time, I’ve sat by the door listening. When I was little, we would sleep together in the same bed. It was mainly for reassurance. Nothing compared to having my father wrap his arms around me, as if scared that I would disappear. And now, here I am doing exactly what he has always feared. I’m leaving him tonight for answers.
Maybe it’s not exactly the same thing since I will be back later, but it’s not so different. He’s always been afraid of giving me answers and giving me information. And now, I’ve met someone who will hopefully give me some answers to questions I’ve been dying to know since I realized I was a girl without her mother.
