Their Shade: Daughters of Olympus
Page 1
Their Shade
Daughters of Olympus
Charlie Hart
Anastasia James
Contents
Copyright
Before
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
After
Also by Charlie Hart
The Wife Lottery
Also by Anastasia James
Preview of Chosen
Copyright
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JOIN ANASTASIA JAME’S
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Edited by
Teresa Banschbach
ICanEdit4U
Copyright © and 2018 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Before
I never wanted to find any of my daughters here.
If they came, it meant the worst had come to pass; that death had come for them.
I was sent here as a punishment.
For a sin they took part in.
Before I was a mother, I was wife.
And I loved fiercely. With all my heart, all that I was.
Now I am trapped, alone, with only my thoughts, my memories.
I retrace my story looking for the cracks.
I should have seen it coming.
I didn’t. But will you, daughter?
Will you see what I missed?
If anyone will come for me, I know it is you.
After all, your father’s blood runs deep in your veins.
But your mother’s blood runs within you too.
Fight for love, with your dying breath.
It’s the only thing that will set you free.
Love will find a way... or it will die trying.
1
Tennyson
I see the stranger in the distance, climbing out of the River Styx, long before he sees me. I immediately begin crossing the long, expansive porch, moving toward this new soul. He appears disoriented, looking around, bewildered and ridiculously handsome: I can’t help but be drawn to him.
Behind me, the sudden swell of party music fills the air as the door opens and closes “Where are you headed?” Hawthorne asks from behind me, and I can hear the sly grin in his voice. He rests a hand on my elbow and I look back, stopping in my tracks. I know Hawthorne will only follow me if I tell him where I’m headed.
And I understand why. I’m the one who dragged him, South, and Lennox to this party tonight. Ditching them thirty minutes into it would be a shitty thing to do. Especially, considering that fact our friendship is already on shifting sand. Yesterday they confessed their love and instead of returning it, I turned away.
I had to.
The moment they confessed their true feelings, I felt a sharp pain rip through my heart. I watched them as their bodies began to fade, in a ghostly manner.
One that terrified me.
I pressed my hands to their hands, their cheeks, their chests. I apologized, asked for more time to decide, but deep down I was scared. Am scared.
Was it their words of ardor that forced this change? It’s the only thing that had changed. Besides, how could I ever choose between my three best friends?
So, I shook my head and turned them away, scared of what this meant.
I was going to lose them, forever.
“I’m headed inside to refill my drink, of course,” I say, lifting my empty glass. “Shall we?” I look back over my shoulder one last time at the man in the distance. Now he is wandering up the river’s edge, toward the house. Even though I want to know who he is, my allegiance lies with the men I’m with.
“Another mint julep, my debutante?” Hawthorne asks as we enter the large kitchen. Soul music rolls through the room of the mansion, the chandelier lighting is low, and the wallpaper paints a picture from a different time. Placed here in Styx, it feels like a portal into a world I can’t even remember.
“Of course, darling,” I say playfully, handing over my glass. Reaching for a sprig of fresh mint, I add it to my glass as Hawthorne refreshes it. Whoever owns this house must have a fine ass deal with Hades himself to get such high-end everything. This place is a jewel, and the liquor is top shelf. “Where’s Lennox and South?” I ask before taking a sip. “God, this is good.” The kitchen is bustling with people, all in different stages of fading. Many are practically translucent and ready to depart for good, but that is nothing new.
You arrive in Styx in full human form, but the closer you are to being sent to the Elysian Fields, where your soul rests peacefully, or to the Underworld, where your soul is tormented for eternity, you start to fade until you are gone completely. Never seen again.
“Who knows, Ten. South is probably in a fight and Lennox is most likely off with some new arrival.”
I roll my eyes exaggeratedly. If Lennox wants to make out with a stranger, that’s on him.
“Don’t get like that, Tenny, I’m only teasing,” Hawthorne says, reaching for a jug of moonshine and pouring it into his flask. I notice the way his forearms flex as he moves. Did I notice his body before? I pushed the idea of us away yesterday but now I can’t help but think about what could be.
Or rather, what could have been.
They are fading and yet I am here, completely unchanged. I try to push away my deepest fear. That I will be here, all alone, forever.
I already know I’m an anomaly. Well, Hawthorne and I both. We’re the only two children I’ve ever seen in this place. And instead of fading shortly after we found one another as four-year-olds, we’ve instead, grown up together all these years. Watching thousands upon thousands of souls depart around us.
Until we met Lennox and South that is.
I scowl at Hawthorne, hating it when he jokes like that, and I rearrange my boobs so they look less in-your-face. This purple dress hugs my curves in a way that catches everyone’s attention, but I don’t need to be flashing everyone. Shaking my hair, I try not to listen as Hawthorne attempts to judge me for judging Lennox.
“You can’t have it all, Ten.”
I stand up straighter, looking my oldest friend in the eyes. “Why not?”
But even as I say it, I know the truth. We can’t have it all because we are stuck here, in Styx, the limbo, the great in-between. Not Earth, not the Underworld. I’ve been here since forever and no matter how badly I want out, there is no ticket to the surface.
I hear rumors that you can pay a high price and take a ferry to the Underworld but I’m not ready to make such a final choice. Why would I, when I can stay here with my dearest friends? Except, of course, all that changes now that they’ve begun to shift. To fade. Soon, hours or days from now, the
y will be gone.
Styx is the only home I know. South, Lennox, and Hawthorne have been with me through thick and thin. The four of us know the drill: keep your head down, your chin up, and make the best of it.
But God, it’s hard some nights.
“I’m just tired of this. It’s the same thing over and over again,” I groan, leaning against the kitchen counter. “We wake up, eat food that we don’t even need to eat in order to stay alive, drink this alcohol that never gets us drunk. Fight over possessions that are all just the discarded remains of the faded ones, and for what?”
“Our life here isn’t all bad, Ten.”
“I know, but it’s not good either.” I run a hand through my hair. “Don’t you think it’s cruel that we’ve been stuck here for so long, while everyone else fades around us so quickly?”
We are an anomaly, our foursome. Most people arrive in Styx and fade within hours, days, weeks. Or maybe a month, tops.
We’ve been here for years.
Hawthorne and I the longest of all. Though no one who arrives realizes this because they come and go so quickly.
“I think it is strange. But I don’t want to question it because I don’t want to lose you.”
Right now, is my opportunity. My chance. I should tell him the truth. That he is finally fading after all these years. That something has shifted and the four of us have begun to lose what we hold dear: one another.
“Listen, Ten. When Lennox, South, and I confessed our love yesterday, we meant it, we want to share ourselves with you, completely. Maybe you can look inside yourself and reconsider.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because there are no guarantees in Styx.”
I look at him, wondering if maybe he knows that we are fading, maybe he feels it the same as I see it.
“One day could change everything,” he says, looking at me with more tenderness than I deserve.
“You really think that?” I ask
“I do. One day can change the course of our lives. It’s happened before.”
I assume he is referring to the day we died Earth-side but there is a flicker of something in his eyes that makes me think maybe he is referring to something else.
What?
Pursing my lips, I consider his words. One day changing everything. God, how I want to change things before I fade.
What I really want is to leave this place.
“If that is so,” I challenge. “Then let’s see what the next day brings,” I say, crossing my arms. “But, personally, I don’t think it will be any different than it always is.”
I tell myself that because I hope like hell it’s true.
I’m not ready for this to be over.
“God, Ten, you are in quite the mood tonight.”
I sigh. “I’m just ready for more. And maybe you’re right. Maybe everything can change in one day’s time. I guess what I mean is, I’m ready to see if that is true. If we can change our fortunes.” I wave my hand around. “Because is this really all there is?”
Hawthorne narrows his bright green eyes and taking my hand he guides me back to the porch. “Let’s find out. Let’s take risks like we normally wouldn’t.” He turns, pulling me to him.
“What do you have in mind?” But even as I say it I know what he wants.
Me.
2
Tennyson
His mouth is so close. Close enough to kiss and I want to lean in and take what he offers but another part of me resists.
Is it fair to give him my body, knowing he is about to fade?
He sees my apprehension and sighs, pulling away.
“I’m sorry,” I start. But he shakes his head.
“I don’t want your pity,” he whispers. “I want your heart.”
Knowing I’m too scared to give it, I swallow and turn away, leaving the kitchen and crossing the living room that is filled with people swaying to the music. Here, half-faded couples hold onto what time they have left.
Outside, we sit on old wooden rockers that creak against the wooden planked porch. The buzzing of crickets and croaking frogs in the marshy river are a familiar sound. There are a thousand intricately placed stars in the artificial sky, and I try to make peace with my life -- my half-life here in Styx -- for the millionth time.
It’s impossible.
“This isn’t so bad, Tennyson,” he tells me. “Look at this view, this house. It could be worse. South says this place is way better than his childhood in--”
I cut him off. “I know. I just wish I could remember.”
“Me too.” Hawthorne sips from his flask, his black hair falling into his eyes. For a moment I wonder if I’m seeing things, then he looks at me again, and I know I’m not. For a slight flicker of a second, his hand was a blur, ghostly. I immediately reach for him, wanting to ground him here, with me.
The same thing happened with Lennox, then South. They’re all beginning to fade.
I move from my rocker and sit in Hawthorne’s lap, wrapping my arms around him, desperate for him to stay here with me. I’m not ready to let him go. He still seems utterly unaware of what is happening to him and I’m not ready to say aloud what I see.
Unfortunately, I can’t offer the same healing magic to myself.
“You know, Tenny,” Hawthorne says, wrapping his arm around me. “At least we have one another.”
I nod, burying my fears. Because do we? We won’t have one another when they fade. That’s why I am pushing away what they have all asked for: my love.
“South and Lennox are so upset with me for ending things so poorly last night.”
“They came here tonight, didn’t they?” Hawthorne asks. “Just give them time.”
I swallow the harsh truth of his words. “There are no guarantees we have much more of it.”
“No way,” he says. “We have forever.”
The thought practically envelops me and a surge of anger swells inside me. “Not forever. Eventually, we’ll die and be buried in Elysian. Unless...”
“Why do you keep mentioning the Underworld? It’s hell, and once you’re there you can’t escape.”
I hate the draw I feel to The intrigue I have every time Hades’ name is mentioned.
“I don’t see how it’s any different than Styx. Besides part of me wants to see what all the fuss is about.” I stand, annoyed and move back to my rocker. Knowing, even as I say it, how foolish I sound. Styx is not the same as Hell. Here we have food, clothes, shelter. We borrow and barter and live in an ecosystem that has been developed since the dawn of time.
Yes, it’s claustrophobic as all get out, but we have some choice and freedom. We’re just stuck in Styx only until our souls are sent to their final resting place.
The good are buried in the Elysian Fields, and the bad are sent to the Underworld for eternity.
The dream of heaven is just that -- a story people like to tell themselves for comfort. But here, we know the truth.
There is Earth. There is Styx. There is the Underworld.
South and Lennox find us on the porch and they lean against the railing. “There you guys are,” South says, holding his fist wrapped in a towel.
“Did you beat someone up?” I ask, knowing the answer. “South, I won’t get us invited to these parties if you can’t play nice.”
“Why do you want to come to them anyway?” Lennox asks, looking around at the decadent atmosphere. “It all seems a little desperate.”
“And you’re not?” South asks him with a raised brow. “I saw you back there.” South is true grit, built to fight and a born bad boy. He has ice blue eyes, short dark hair, and a leather jacket he never takes off.
Lennox turns, as if not wanting to meet my gaze. “Yeah?” he mutters. “This could all be gone tomorrow. I don’t want to die with regrets.”
“You’re already dead.” I purse my lips, knowing my words are bitter and calloused.
“Thanks for the reminder, bestie.” Lennox gives me a fake smile and I see the
hurt in his eyes.
He asked for my heart and I refused.
“At least we have today,” Hawthorne says, looking at me with a soft smile, reminding me of our earlier conversation.
One day can change everything.
“Who’d you fight?” Hawthorne asks South.
“A guy who was talking shit.”
“About what?” I ask, but the guys’ eyes all fall downward, and I know.
Some guy was talking about me. Probably said something stupid about wanting to sleep with me and it pissed South off. It has happened before.
“You don’t have to fight my battles,” I tell South.
“You may say you don’t love us, Ten, but we love you,” Lennox says, his eyes on mine. He is tall and lean, with dark brown eyes as deep as the poetry he writes.
“Is that why you were with someone else tonight?” I ask.
“This double standard is bullshit, Ten,” he tosses back. “So, what? You can do whatever you want but you get mad when we do? You can’t have it every way.”
I look over at Hawthorne, he’d said as much a few minutes ago.
“Then let’s just end this,” I say, knowing that what I want doesn’t matter anyway. They are fading, fast. It will most likely all be gone tomorrow.
One day can change everything.
“Let’s end this relationship,” I say, the words being the exact opposite of what I want. But I am so scared of being here all alone, that it seems easier to run away now, on my own terms, than sit with them as I watch them go forever.