by Carly Spade
“Are they coming back?” I asked.
“Of course, they are,” he answered, making his way to a deeply wooded area.
After pushing past several tree branches, palm fronds, and vines, we reached a clearing with hundreds of squared rocks. It was remnants of the walls of an old building.
I traced my fingers over the rubble. “Is this a temple?”
“What’s left of it.”
Part of a column still stood. In my opinion, the staple of ancient Greek architecture. “Was it dedicated to someone?”
He crouched down, pressing his hand against a crumbled slab. “Artemis.”
“I imagine it was beautiful when it was standing, but I have to ask, why is this one of significance to you?”
He stood up, looking around at the rubble as if picturing in his mind what it used to look like. “The Greeks built these temples to honor their gods. At first, they were made of wood, but this is the first with stone. It wasn’t an easy task considering you had to have the proper distribution of weight, or it’d crumble.”
“Really? And here in Corfu?”
He nodded. “Their dedication to their gods knew no bounds, includin’ the lengths they went to develop temples in their honor. Much like these ruins, however, the dedication crumbled through the ages.”
“I’m sure there are those who still believe in them.”
“Like you?” He peered at me from across the foundation of the fallen temple.
A sharp prick of guilt stung me in the chest. I picked up a rock, rolling it between my fingers. “Was there one for Hades?”
“They called it Nekromanteion. It’s not so much of a temple as it is a door, however. It’s in Epirus, once known as Ephyra. They thought it was the gateway to the Underworld.”
Intrigue traveled down my spine like a burning wick. “Thought it was?”
“There are only so many ways to get to the Underworld, and it’s most certainly not through a gateway made of stone.”
“A chariot ride with the King himself?” I wrapped my hand around the stone, pushing an imprint into my palm.
“That’s one way. Or—” His gaze locked onto my very soul. “Death.”
We stared at each other.
“There’s another reason I enjoy this particular temple.” He motioned for me to follow him out of the woods.
Cerulean water and mountains in the distance greeted me. Several branches from the trees dipped in front of us, framing the scene like a painting. He leaned forward on the railing and took a deep breath.
“This is one of my favorite spots in all of Greece,” he said, sighing.
“I can see why. It’s breathtaking.” I eyed him sidelong. “Why me?”
“What do you mean?”
“This is your favorite spot, and you’re sharing it with me. Why?”
His eyes remained on the water. “I’ve never had anyone invested in me. At first, I thought you just enjoyed pestering me, or someone was playin’ a cruel joke, but…” He looked at me. “You’re real.”
How ironic he questioned my reality.
I frowned and hovered my hand over his forearm. Never in my life had I as much confidence as I was gradually feeling around him. I rested my hand on his arm after staring at it for a second or two. “What’s really going on with you, Hades? You seem so…”
His eyes focused on my fingers wrapped around his arm.
“…broken,” I finished.
His gaze snapped to mine, and he turned away. “I want to prove to you who I am, but only if that’s what you want, Stephanie.”
My heart skipped a beat. “I want to believe you. I do. I just—need more.”
He faced me and pulled his shoulders back. “Do you want to see proof? Yes or no.”
I blinked with the speed of a hummingbird and wrung my hands together.
He slipped a hand on my shoulder and lowered his head, so we were face-to-face. “I need to hear it, Stephanie. I made poor decisions in my past, and I’m not doin’ it again.”
“Your decisions couldn’t have been that bad. I’ve seen some monstrous deeds I would’ve never thought someone was capable of.”
He leaned back. “In your profession, you mean?”
“Not only my profession. My mom, —there was a house fire, and she was inside sleeping. We found out later it was arson. Someone trying to kill my dad, but he was working a beat. And I was at a sleepover.”
“I’m sorry.” His face softened.
“It was a long time ago, but I guess I shared it with you because there’s a lot of things I’d have said I wouldn’t believe were possible—but was proven wrong.”
A gust of wind flew between us, making our hair flutter.
I bit down on my lip. “What would you show me? The chariot? A three-headed dog?”
“Definitely not Cerberus. He’s far too big.” A corner of his lip lifted.
Was I really about to say this?
“Show me,” I whispered.
His eyebrows drew together, staring at me like a chessboard. He held out his hand. “Have you had anything to drink today?”
What a peculiar question to ask. “No?” I elongated the ‘o’, taking his hand.
He led me into the thick of the woods, taking me into his arms like we’d done the previous night amidst the magic and glamour of the ball.
“Why did you ask me that?” I asked.
“Because it means you have no excuse to believe it isn’t real.” His eyebrow quirked and the same tendrils of smoke from last night swirled around us.
It started at his feet, spreading to mine like dancing on a rain cloud. It made its way over our bodies, swirling around us in a spiral. I gasped once it reached my neck, a caress teasing itself through my hair. His eyes turned white, devoid of an iris or pupil, and the sight made me recoil.
He held his palms up, facing me, and the smoke faded away. His eyes morphed back to normal, and I had to blink several times to make sure my vision hadn’t blurred.
“You—you’re—”
“Hades. Yes, Stephanie.” He didn’t try to approach me.
Dozens of images flew through my mind of fire, death, and—what if this wasn’t his true form? It couldn’t be. Shivers consumed me, and I threw a hand out when he got within arm’s reach.
“Don’t. Please don’t come any further,” I said through a shaky breath.
He stopped with a heavy sigh. “You told me before you weren’t afraid of me. God of the Underworld or not, you still have no reason to fear me.”
Was it the fear of him hurting me? Or was it the fear of realizing Greek mythology was all true?
Cerberus. The Underworld. It. Was. All. Real.
I slapped my hands on my head. “I don’t know how to process this.”
“Stephanie, you look like you’re going to—” he started as he took a step forward.
I dragged my hands down my face, my finger catching on my bottom lip, staring at him. “I feel like I’m going to pass out.” The numb feeling traveled down my arms, followed by the tunnel vision eking its way in.
“Please don’t do—” Was all I heard from him before I did just that.
The sun peeked through the window. My fingertips grazed over the smooth stripes of the comforter of my hotel room bed. I groaned and sat up, shoving a palm in my eye socket.
“What time is it?” I asked, hoping someone was in the room.
Sara leaned forward. “Almost noon. You passed out and then didn’t wake up all night. Scared me half to death.”
“I had the strangest dream.” At least I thought it was a dream. I slid off the bed, the coolness of the wood floor shocking my bare feet. “Hades conjured this—smoke. It was like it had a life of its own.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Animated smoke? Like the smoke monster in Lost? The one that sounded like a typewriter?”
Was that where I’d seen it before? Was it my subconscious? But it felt so real. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Well, there you
go. You already said Hades looks a little like Sawyer. It’s your mind playing tricks on you, associating things. And he was the last person you saw before clocking out. He carried you in here.”
I widened my eyes. “Oh, God. Please tell me you didn’t give him a black eye or something.”
“It was close.” She smirked. “But we had a civilized conversation, and he explained to me you got seasick and passed out on the boat.”
No, I didn’t. I specifically remember being in the woods when it happened.
I dragged my hands over my face and blew out a breath. “Can we agree on not having to get someone to carry either of us back to our room for the rest of this trip?”
She laughed, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. Her hugs were the best in the world, and I’d kick anyone in the shin who disagreed. She peeled back, still holding my shoulders. “You’re going to try and avoid him, aren’t you?”
“Pfft, no.” I couldn’t make direct eye contact with her. She was like a viper with a penetrating gaze. “Why do you say that?”
She squished my face with one hand, making my lips pucker like a fish. “Because you’re embarrassed. And a small part of you is still wondering what the dream was all about.”
“I really need to pick friends with occupations like veterinarian or ranch worker or something.” The words distorted, given the situation of my face.
“I’d like to talk to him some more, you know. You should talk to him about hanging out with us tomorrow. Maybe rope him into an excursion.” She grinned mischievously.
“I’ll see what I can do, but the man’s insistent on saving his spot at the bar.” I half-smiled.
“Come on. You could use a Lemondrop.” She grabbed my hand.
“Shouldn’t I change first?” Considering I was still in the same clothes as yesterday.
“We’re at a resort. You’re wearing shorts, a tank top, and a bikini underneath. Standard attire. Let’s go.”
We returned to the swim-up bar. Michelle and Rupert were there, sipping on drinks with pink and yellow swirly straws. I slipped into the water, continually glancing at Hades’ usual spot at the bar. Empty.
“Well, hello there! We were just saying how strange it was we hadn’t run into you two again yet,” Michelle said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
“Is this your first time at the swim-up bar?” Sara asked, taking a stool next to Michelle.
Michelle took a sip from her drink, glaring at Rupert before smiling. “It is.”
“Well, there’s your answer,” Sara replied, grinning and waving the bartender over.
The bartender was the same one we’d had since the day we arrived. He smiled wide, patting his hands on the concrete bar top. “What’ll it be today, Miss Sara?”
“Hugo, what did I tell you, just Sara.” She giggled. “Two Lemondrops to start, please.”
“Oh, we’re doing shots? We’ll get in on that too, barkeep,” Rupert said, shoving his sunglasses onto his head.
Michelle placed her hand on his forearm, dipping her mouth to his ear. “Love, shouldn’t you take it easy after the—incident yesterday?”
Rupert yanked his arm away. “I’m on bloody holiday, Shelly.”
She frowned, recoiling her hand.
Sara and I exchanged a quick glance.
Hugo set four shots in front of us with a smile and said, “Yamas.”
I held mine in the air. Michelle’s frown continued, but she grabbed her and Rupert’s, hesitantly handing his over. He grabbed it with such force, he almost knocked it out of her hand.
“To Greece!” I toasted.
We tapped our plastic cups together and tossed back the sweet, lemony goodness.
Rupert winced, holding his hand at his side.
“Love?” Michelle touched his shoulder.
He shook his head, sliding his shot glass across the bar top. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Just a little heartburn.” He pointed at his empty glass, getting Hugo’s attention. “Another shot, but something a little harder, eh, mate?”
Sara nudged my forearm. “Look lively.”
Hades stood between the pool and the outside bar, scanning the area. I dropped into the water, my sunglasses floating to the surface as my head submerged. Peeking my head above the surface just enough to breathe, I sputtered. Sara made a suitable shield between Hades and me. Once he walked away, I stood up, plopping my arms on the bar top.
“You’re a nut,” Sara said, taking a sip from her pink drink.
I ran a hand over my face, ridding it of water droplets. “Is my make-up completely ruined?”
“What make-up?”
I stuck my bottom lip out. “I’m going to go—freshen up.”
“You’re not going back to hide in the room, are you?” She blocked me with her arm.
With vigor, I shook my head. “Nope.” It was the truth, but I left out the small detail of where I really planned to go.
She narrowed her eyes before lowering her arm. “Alright. But don’t make me come looking for you.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said, wading to the stairs.
My wet bathing suit seeped through my clothes as I whisked off to the nearest gift shop. I plucked a pair of pink binoculars from a turn style. Halfway to the register, I stopped. Bright pink probably wasn’t the most inconspicuous color choice for spying. I traded them out for a black pair, grabbed a roll of Tums, and hurriedly paid. A fierce need to know if Hades was the Hades ate at me like a festering wound.
Now to find him. I sniffed the air for the smell of burning wood like I was a bloodhound. Nothing, but was worth a shot. After checking every bar on the property and turning up empty, I started to lose hope. Maybe he went back to his room? I passed the lobby area and did a double-take. There he was, plain as day, sitting at the bar inside. A quaint bar compared to all the others.
I ducked behind a nearby bush, raising the binoculars. After going cross-eyed several times, I managed to focus through both eyepieces. Wait. How was I supposed to hear anything this far away? There was another bush a few feet closer, and I scampered behind it, sputtering when several of the leaves slapped me in the face.
“What’ll it be?” The bartender asked.
“A Backdraft.”
The bartender nodded and returned with a shot glass full of brown liquid, sliding it in front of him.
Hades looked down and then back up at the tender. “Aren’t ya gonna light it on fire?”
“New liability regulations, I’m afraid. No open flames.” The bartender shrugged.
Hades sighed, scratching his beard. “Kind of defeats the purpose of this particular drink, doesn’t it?”
“Rules are rules, sir. Sorry.” The bartender held his hands up and walked away.
Hades stared at his drink before looking around. Besides the bartender who’d left and me behind a friggin’ bush, there was no one in sight. He snapped his fingers over the shot glass, igniting the contents into a raging flame. My jaw dropped, and I fumbled with the binoculars, struggling to get them back to my eyes. Did he have a lighter hidden in his hand? He blew the flame out and lifted the glass to his lips, knocking it back.
I lowered the binoculars, blinked, and shoved them back over my eyes so harshly it gave me a headache. There was definitely no lighter in his hand or anywhere to be seen. My heart thudded against my chest.
More. I needed more. This could not be happening. Maybe it wasn’t a dream?
He threw some Euros on the bar top and left. He went for the opposite door from my makeshift coverage. Thank God because half of my body stuck out from the bush.
He stopped at one of the twenty-four-hour food stands. There weren’t any nearby bushes, so I made do with a trash can.
“A gyro, please,” he ordered.
They handed one to him wrapped in parchment paper and foil.
“Do you have ketchup?” He asked.
Ketchup on a gyro? Gross.
“Sorry, sir, we’re out.”
He was
hitting zero for two tonight. As if the guy needed any other excuse to be depressed.
“That’s fine. I’ll make do,” Hades said, clutching the gyro in his hand and heading further down the tiled walkway.
The smell of curdled tzatziki sauce made me gag. The trashcan was a horrible hiding spot, but to move now would be spying suicide. He shifted his eyes and twirled his free hand in a circle toward the ground. A small hole with a glowing orange hue opened in the grass beside the walkway, and a pale hand holding a bottle of ketchup emerged it. Hades grabbed it, popped the top off, squirted some ketchup on his gyro, and handed it back to the—hand. The hand didn’t disappear immediately, and he batted it a few times before it slipped away. The hole sealed up as if it were never there in the first place.
Oh. My. God.
I fell back. Hades really was Hades. How could I possibly look him in the face, let alone hold a conversation? I danced with a Greek god. Bile made its way up my throat, and I kept it back. No. No. I refused to believe it. He was dragging me straight into his metaphorical Underworld. That or this Greek vacation had gotten entirely too interactive.
I made my way back to the swim-up bar, munching on Tums, but couldn’t remember how I got there.
Sara waved her hand in front of my face. “You walked into the pool like a zombie. Are you okay?”
The image of the hand appearing inexplicably from the ground played on a constant loop in my head. “Oh, yeah. A little sleepy is all.”
“You slept for fourteen hours.”
I braided my hair and tossed it over my shoulder. “There is such a thing as too much sleep.”
Michelle and Rupert were gone.
“You missed a hell of a show. Rupert had six shots before Michelle asked him to stop. He didn’t take it too lightly, and they started arguing until it turned into all-out yelling.”
“What’s going on with those two?”
She crossed her legs. “I could guess, but I told you from the beginning, Rupert was a bad egg.”
“How are the two prettiest women in the resort today?” Guy asked, wiggling his way in between us, a can of beer in hand.
Sara snorted. “What do you want?”
