When Darkness Calls

by C. R. Jane

  It was a weird feeling.

  As his cries continued to float through the air, faint enough that I knew his rooms weren’t close by, I wrapped my arms around my body, holding myself tightly. Looking up the stairs, I swore I saw a tendril of blonde hair disappearing around the corner the opposite way from my rooms as if someone had just darted by. A shiver traveled down my spine. The air felt colder...more dangerous.

  And I didn’t feel alone.

  I ran the rest of the way up the stairs, not looking behind me as I raced towards my room sure that there was someone watching me right at that moment.

  I slammed my door shut behind me, engaging a lock that I swore hadn’t been present on my side of the door when I’d left just a bit ago. My breath left me in long, harsh gasps from my panicked run. The door cut off the sounds of crying, and the lock made me feel safe.

  All good things.

  I ran through everything that had just happened as I leaned against the door, trying to calm my breath and find something that made sense or that I could hold onto. I guess on the bright-side, my disastrous meeting with the “Master” might make him want to let me go. Silver linings and all of that. No one wanted a reminder of an ex-girlfriend to be hanging around 24/7 after all, even a guy who looked like he could have his pick of every girl on earth and in the heavens if he wanted. I had to think that even the freaking angels would salivate over a face like that.

  You had to admire the guy’s loyalty.

  It took a minute, but finally my heart rate slowed down enough I felt like I could step away from the door without falling to the ground from a heart attack.

  Surprisingly, I noticed then that a dinner tray was already waiting on my bed. I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but I wasn’t going to think too hard on it. I’d had enough mysteries for the night.

  Despite the fact that I couldn’t hear his cries anymore, or what I assumed were his cries, I wasn’t able to find very much peace. The haunting stranger had taken up residence in my head, not straying very far from my thoughts despite my best efforts. I attempted to pick at the dinner, not able to stomach hardly anything even though the food looked like something you would find at a five-star restaurant.

  My sleep was fitful that night as his star filled gaze took a starring role in my dreams.

  5

  Hades

  I fell in love with her the second I saw her. Falling in love with her wasn’t a choice. It was a need. The breath I took in right before I took a step around the garden wall and saw her was the last breath I ever took for myself. Every moment after that was for her.

  Despite the foolish tales that have floated around through the ages, Persephone wasn’t coerced, or kidnapped. I didn’t trick her or selfishly steal her from her mother’s arms.

  We met in that garden and that was it. We were both completely and utterly taken with one another.

  Or at least that’s what I thought.

  Despite how much I try and blank it out, thoughts of that first meeting are on repeat in my head. The way the sun caressed her gleaming hair. The way her eyes were almost gold, as if the sun was being absorbed into her body and shone through her gaze.

  I should have known just from that we were destined to fail. I lived in the shadows. And someone like that, who was loved by the sun… she was never going to love me.

  She withered in the darkness. All her light was sucked dry until she was nothing but a husk, lifeless and miserable. Even her hair turned dark without the sun, a phenomenon that gave weight to those first thoughts I’d had when I saw her.

  And it was all my fault.

  I thought my love would be enough, because in the history of existence, no one had ever loved a woman the way I loved her. Even the cracks in my heart belonged to her.

  But nothing I did was ever enough.

  This place, this place was haunted. Sometimes I swore I saw her face above me when I first opened my eyes to start a new, dreaded day. The smell of her perfume lingered on my pillowcase. I walked around a corner and her hair was there in front of me like she’d just ran out of sight. In the initial months and years, I would tear apart this hell I was trapped in, convinced she was still somewhere between these walls. The servants would hide in their quarters, convinced I’d gone mad.

  And they were right. I had gone mad.

  Despite the fact I still felt her everywhere, I’d stopped looking for her. Persephone made sure when she left that I’d be just as broken as she became when I brought her here.

  I’m cursed and there’s no cure. Despite what the Fates say.

  They say something was triggered when she left. That my sorrow broke something in the eternities, the balance of power and sanity was destroyed.

  Find love again, they ordered me, even going so far as to procure the women for me, certain another Persephone was out there.

  I felt pity for the Fates, because they had no concept of love. You don’t get to just replace lost love. You wither and worship at its feet for eternity, the memory enough to freeze your heart in place so you can never move on.

  I stood at the foot of her bed, a specter from this angel’s worst nightmares if she were to open those eyes and see me here. Now that I was taking a closer look, I could see she was nothing like Persephone. It was simply wishful thinking creating something that wasn’t actually there.

  The color of her hair might be the same, but her nose was sloped differently, more Roman than Grecian in its shape. There were freckles dusting her cheeks. Persephone’s skin had been flawless. There was light streaked through the dark of her hair. Her lips were fuller than Persephone’s, like she’d just been stung by a bee. My gaze traced their shape absentmindedly, remembering her cautious voice. That was much different too. Her voice was lower, softer...more serious. Like her words were usually measured before they were spoken. Persephone had often lashed out without thinking, like her feelings were uncontrollable and had to be released or else she would die. Some of her words still lashed through me at night, the echo of the hate in their depths carved into my skin.

  I didn’t know why I was thinking about that now, or why I was standing here watching this poor girl who’d been unwittingly dragged into the Fates’ wicked games. They said they were attempting to help, but the girls’ endings were never pretty. In the beginning I’d tried, I swear I did. But their smiles never put sparks in my heart, their voices never gave me proverbial butterflies, and their touches never had me wanting to wage wars.

  I don’t know if they ever fell in love with me. It never mattered.

  Because I never fell in love with them.

  This girl would be the same. And maybe I would even feel a pinprick of sorrow when the Fates eventually dragged her away at the end of the year.

  Poor girl. She didn’t know the fate that awaited her.

  A hand brushed against my back just then, and I knew she was there, or at least whatever was wrong with my life-source that constantly conjured her up had been triggered, reminding me I would never be able to fall.

  I turned around to try and find her, unable to help myself, as usual. But something about the move felt different, like it was a little bit more a habit, and not as much a sharp desire like usual.

  I turned to find Persephone, but something inside of me wanted to keep looking at Elena.

  It was pity, that’s all, I told myself. The madness I constantly experienced was giving me human traits, because weren’t they all a little mad there on Earth?

  The specter touched me again and I dissolved from the room.

  I’d spend the rest of the night as I usually did, thinking about her.

  6

  Elena

  The next morning, I woke up feeling like I had been run over by a twenty-ton truck. I was debating whether to go back to sleep when a knock sounded from the door.

  Not thinking of what I looked like, I dragged myself out of bed, walking to the door still half asleep. I quickly woke up however when I saw who was at the door.


  He looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see him, despite the fact that he was the one who had knocked on my door. There was a slight flush to his cheeks as he glanced down at my barely clothed body. Too late, I realized I was standing in front of this Adonis in boy shorts and a white cami that left very little to the imagination. I quickly hid my body behind the door, peeking just my head out. But it was too late. There was a fire in his eyes that hadn’t been there the night before. Like he had seen something he liked and he wanted it very much.

  “Can I help you?” I finally said in a voice that came out much more breathy than I would have liked.

  He cleared his throat and shook his head slightly as if he was trying to empty it. “I was wondering if you would like to have breakfast with me. I was having a poor evening last night, and I squandered our first meeting,” he said. His voice rolled over me, the sensation of it like lying in a warm bath. It was smooth and cultured, warm and masculine. I had never heard a sound I liked more. He had a funny way of speaking, but maybe that was just how rich people talked. I wouldn’t know.

  It took me a second to regain my wits. “I’m sorry, but I have no earthly clue who you are?” I told him once I had regained my ability to speak. I noticed for the first time what he was wearing. It was hardly past seven in the morning, and he was dressed like he was about to go to a meeting in a boardroom rather than a breakfast in his own home.

  He smiled. It was the first time he had done so in my presence, and it somehow managed to transform his already perfect looks into something that resembled a miracle. Crazy cult leader or not, I was going to remember the moment I had seen him smile for the first time for the rest of my life.

  “Ah, I see that the servants have been tight-lipped,” he said charmingly. “They are protective like that. My name is Hades, and I’m honored to have you here.”

  “You’re the leader of the cult?” I blurted out, still hiding behind the door.

  He looked at me quizzically for a moment before bursting into laughter. “That’s quite clever,” he said. His laugh did something funny to my insides. “I guess that story makes sense in this case,” he said. “But no, Elena. This is not a cult compound, and I am not a cult leader,” he said, still smiling. The way he said my name made me hot all over.

  My cheeks flushed. I had no other ideas for why I would be here. Did my mother owe someone money? Was my brother being held hostage somewhere and this was the payment? I needed to ask about a million more questions, but I thought it might be best to get dressed first.

  “Just give me a moment,” I said, closing the door before he could answer. I hurried to the closet, cursing again when I remembered the lack of jeans. Thinking of how dressed up he had been, I grabbed a sundress that managed to fit me better than any other piece of clothing had before. I hurried into the bathroom and began brushing my hair.

  I looked dreadful, like I hadn’t slept in days. My eyes were still swollen from all the crying that I had been doing. I opened a drawer and saw it was full of makeup products, all colors that seemed like they would suit me. I began to put some mascara on before I stopped. Why in the world was I trying to impress this person who was essentially my kidnapper? I walked out of my bedroom without putting on any more makeup.

  When I saw him waiting in the hallway, there was a sense of familiarity about him that I couldn’t shake, and when we touched as I wrapped my arm around his proffered arm, it almost felt like our souls were connecting. It was romantic nonsense, but the guy did something to me.

  Maybe Stockholm syndrome was already setting in. I’d read books about that.

  He didn’t say anything while we walked down to the dining hall, and I didn’t have any words either. The silence was awkward...and lonely. Seeing the ginormous table with two place settings in the equally ginormous room was also lonely.

  Hades pulled out my chair, and I sat down, thinking that the movies always made this look less awkward. Was I supposed to just hover above the seat so it was easier for him to push the chair in? Or was I supposed to sit down and just let him push my whole weight and the chair towards the table.

  I tried to do the hover thing and it was indeed as awkward as you could imagine. Thankfully, my captor was at least polite and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even have the ghost of a smile when he sat down.

  Impressive.

  We both sat there quietly. He seemed just as lost for words as I was.

  “So… want to tell me why I’m here?”

  He grimaced as if my question was painful. “How about we just get to know each other right now and I’ll explain everything afterwards?”

  Hades looked vulnerable at that moment. Like he was just as terrified and exhausted about this whole experience as I was. Something in my heart strangely loosened at the sight. It somehow made me feel safer.

  A male servant I hadn’t seen before stepped out of the same doorway as the women had last night and made a deep bow. “Any special requests, my Lord?” he asked. I watched him fascinated at his devotion, of the devotion of everyone I’d encountered in this place. They were here to please, here to serve. Their world revolved around Hades.

  How odd.

  “Just the usual,” Hades said at the same time as “french toast” flew out of my mouth.

  The servant stood straight, his lips twitching with amusement. “As you wish,” he said before briskly leaving the room.

  Hades was watching me intensely when I looked at him again. “What?”

  He shook his head as if knocking himself out of a trance. “Nothing. Tell me about yourself. I’m finding myself suddenly desperate to know everything about you,” he answered, shocking me and sending nervous butterflies scattering all over my skin. It was unnerving to have his attention like this. No one had ever stared at me like I held all the secrets of the universe inside my heart. He was going to be very disappointed when he saw inside of me and realized there was nothing there.

  “I’m from a small town in Virginia. It’s a tourist town, nothing too special about it and the same people have lived there forever. My mom raised me and my brother by herself. She’s the greatest,” I added softly.

  “You miss her,” he stated quietly.

  I thought of my last image of her, her blood drenched clothes and skin, the pain on her face. “I’m here because of her. Something was punishing her until I agreed to come. I would do anything for her.”

  He was studying me again. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  “That I love my mother?”

  Hades nodded. “That you would do anything for her.”

  “Isn’t that what anyone would do for the ones they loved?” I asked, not studying him just as intensely.

  “I once thought that,” he answered. Powerful grief crushed his features then, so tangible and all-consuming that I felt it inside of me, just as I had last night. I wanted to ask him about that, if it had been him wailing like the sins of the world were clawing at him. But it felt too personal.

  Hades cleared his throat just as the servant appeared again with a cloth covered cart that he wheeled towards the table. Even with the cloth covering the contents of the tray, I could tell it was going to be good. The smells were heavenly. One thing I couldn’t complain about this place was the food. It was off the charts.

  The servant removed the cloth and began to take silver lids off of dishes loaded with food. He hadn’t just brought out french toast. He’d also made biscuits and gravy, fluffy eggs, pancakes, a gorgeous fruit plate, cinnamon rolls as big as my head, and what looked like a million other things. I’m sure my eyes looked the size of my head as I gazed from the cart to Hades. Hopefully he had a massive appetite. Otherwise there was going to be a lot of food wasted. I had a feeling that “the master” wasn’t served leftovers.

  Hades looked intimidated by the food as well. As morose as he was, I could see him only allowing himself stale crust and sips of water to atone for whatever pain he was holding inside over his lost love.
r />   My insides curled over the thought of that. Stockholm syndrome for sure.

  “I’ve got your usual here,” the servant said to Hades, lifting up a tray to show a bowl of austere, plain oatmeal. There were even lumps in it for good measure.

  “I’ll try what you brought,” said Hades, making the servant look at him in shock.

  This place was really weird.

  I started spooning food onto my plate. I was probably supposed to wait for Hades to eat first or something archaic like that, but I was starving.

  My actions got the servant moving and he started pushing plates onto the table as fast as he could.

  I cut a piece of the french toast and popped it into my mouth, moaning ridiculously when I realized it was stuffed with freaking nutella and quite possibly the best thing I’d ever tasted. Hope they had an elevator in this place because pretty soon I wasn’t going to be able to get up the stairs if they fed me like this all the time.

  When I opened my eyes from nearly having an orgasm at the taste of my breakfast, Hades was frozen in his seat, staring at me, heat in his gaze and confusion on his face.

  I blushed a thousand shades of red and swallowed awkwardly. “The food is really good here,” I told him. “Try it.”

  He picked up his fork and knife and hesitantly cut into the french toast on his plate, like he was afraid it was going to come alive and jump at him. I watched as he popped a piece in his mouth, the act sensual and smooth and doing something to my insides.

  Who knew watching someone eat could be so…

  Delicious.

  He didn’t moan but he did continue to eat, this bite much faster as if someone was going to take it away from him.

  “Tell me more about where you're from,” he ordered right before he seductively licked a speck of Nutella from his bottom lip.