Hades’ Daughter (The War of Fate)

by Charlotte Carol

  “Um…I needed to get some answers from a friend,” I reply, keeping it vague, but at the same time, giving enough information so they don’t ask any more questions.

  “I hear you’re throwing a party this weekend,” Tasha excitedly changes the subject.

  “Wow, news travels fast here. Yes, you heard correctly,” I tell her as I close the locker door. “I have homeroom with Mr. Matthews. Do you know anyone else who has it?”

  “Yay! Yes, I have it too,” Lottie exclaims as she hugs me to her.

  I stand awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Max chuckles at my face.

  “She’s a hugger,” he says.

  “I can see that.”

  Lottie pulls back and looks at my face, apologizing. “Don’t worry. I just wasn’t expecting it. Who else has homeroom with us?”

  “Hunter, Tiffany, and their friends,” she says, and I groan.

  “Really? I have to deal with them this early in the day? Do you hate me that much?” I exclaim dramatically into the air, looking up at the ceiling. I chuckle internally: I did make sure they were blue for a while.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I tell Lottie as I hear the bell ring above us. I bid farewell to the group as Lottie hugs and kisses Max goodbye before she comes to walk next to me and toward the hell I don’t want to be in.

  We arrive at homeroom to find Tiffany and her friends already huddled together at the back, a couple of other students sitting closer to the front. I ignore them all as I walk to a seat in between the two groups of students, near the window. I look up to see why Lottie hasn’t sat down yet and see she is giving the door a worried glance. I get my answer as to why when she looks back to me.

  “You can’t sit there!”

  “Why can’t I?” I ask, giving her a confused look.

  “That’s where Hunter sits, and he gets annoyed when someone else sits here,” she explains but doesn’t give me a satisfactory answer as to why I can’t.

  “And? What’s so special about this seat? There are other seats, aren’t there? It’s not like his name is specifically on this seat,” I ask, looking around at the other empty seats. She sighs with a shrug; however, her worried expression is still present on her face.

  “Fine, sit there. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I think for a moment before ripping out a piece of paper from my notebook and write a message on it for Hunter. I then look around before getting up and out of my seat and walking to the wall in between the two windows, where a poster is up.

  I take the poster off the wall, grabbing the putty-like substance off the back before returning to my seat. I attach the putty to the back of my note and stick it to the back of my seat.

  Lottie shoots me a confused look, and I motion for her to look at it. She leans out of her chair to look at the back of mine, letting out a laugh at what she sees there. After seeing my little note, she relaxes more and begins to talk freely and easily. I listen to her, piping up when I need to, but never taking my eyes off the door.

  A couple of minutes later, Hunter and his friends walk through the open door, his eyes moving over the class before they come to rest on me.

  I raise my eyebrow at him questioningly, giving him an innocent smile. His eyes narrow as he marches toward me, stopping in front of the desk. Jake moves behind me to what I assume to be his seat, Leo and Liam joining him.

  “That’s my seat, Newbie. What are you doing in it?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see your name on it. There are a lot of other seats, so go and sit your ass down,” I tell him as I hear raucous laughter from behind me, letting me know Hunter’s friends have found my message.

  “But I always sit here,” Hunter complains.

  “Stop acting like a two-year-old, and go and sit down in another one. It is not your chair. It doesn’t have your name on,” I tell him, pointing to the empty seats around us.

  “She’s right there,” Leo says with a chuckle.

  Hunter looks at me weirdly before looking at Leo. He motions to the back of my chair, and my message there—If it’s anyone’s chair, it’s mine because it has my name on it: Scarlett Hades.

  Hunter moves around and reads the message on the back, letting out a grumble of frustration. I look over my shoulder at him with a smug smirk. He glares at me for a moment, but a small smile twitches at the sides of his mouth. He turns his back on us as he falls into the seat in front of me. Liam comes around me, muttering to me that he thought it was hilarious before sitting down in the seat next to Hunter.

  After the fifteen minutes of Homeroom are up and the bell has gone, indicating that we can leave for out next class, I jump out of my seat and make my way out into the hallway. I start on my way to my first lesson but am stopped when a blonde army of clones step in front of me.

  “I hear you’re having a party this weekend,” Tiffany declares.

  “I am, but I don’t know why you’re worried about it because you’re not welcome.”

  “I wouldn’t want to come to your party even if you were the last person on Earth,” she tells me in a rush, her heartbeat rising, letting me know that she is lying.

  “Sweetie, if we were the last people on Earth, I would kill you so I wouldn’t have to endure you,” I tell her. I go to walk around her, but Tiffany steps in front of me, continuing our “conversation.”

  “Don’t expect anyone at your party because I’m going to hold my own,” she says petulantly.

  “Oh my God, Tiffany, you’re such a bitch!” I tell her, putting on a high pitch voice while faking anger before laughing and continuing seriously, “I don’t care what childish things you do for attention.”

  Her brown eyes narrow into a glare before she stomps her foot and storms past me. I let out a slight laugh at her antics. First, Hunter, and now, Tiffany. What are we? Toddlers?

  Chapter 8

  Nothing Says Party Like a Red Cup!

  The bell rings seconds after I step into World History. Mr. Ward’s watery blue eyes meet mine as I walk to my seat.

  “Ms. Hades, are you going to allow me to teach today’s lesson without any interruption?”

  “It depends. Do I need to correct you again?”

  He flashes me a quick, forced smile before turning to look at the board. I travel through the desks until I get to the one I was sitting in yesterday. I swing the bag down under the desk as Mr. Ward claps his hands together loudly getting our attention.

  “We will be continuing with what we were doing yesterday and will be focusing more on the myth about Hades and Persephone.”

  I let my head fall onto my arms which are crossed in front of me. I don’t want to know what other rumors Persephone spread about my dad.

  The bell rings, finally, causing the classroom to become a flurry of activity. Mr. Ward shouts to us all over the commotion to leave our essays on his desk as we leave.

  I reach into my bag as I walk, bringing out the pages of paper. When I pass Mr. Ward’s desk, his eyes meet mine, a disconcerting smirk pulling at his lips. I drop the essay onto his desk with a flourish, giving him a sarcastic smile. I don’t get to see his reaction, as I continue to walk out of the nearly empty class. I pass Tiffany at the door, who gives me a glare, and continue to my next class, carefree.

  ***

  The feeling stays with me all week, as I start to get into a routine and get to know the people at the school better. I have grown closer with Lily and her friends, and I even started to like Hunter and his friends’ company. Overall, it was uneventful and boring, which was good. I don’t know how long I can handle being on Earth if all the days were like my first. I want a change, and if all the days were like that, then I may as well have stayed at home.

  It’s Friday, and I am slouching in front of the TV, watching a show that I found on one of the many channels, trying to decide what to do this weekend after the party tonight. I found one of my few sweatshirts that I own and put it on with a pair of yoga pants. The difference in temperature from home an
d here is obvious, and when I’m sitting still, it starts to get to me. It’ll take some time to get used to.

  The commercials start to run again as I hear someone walking up the drive and toward the front door. Confused as to who could be here before the party is due to start, I listen closely to see if I can get any more clues. There is a clinking akin to a glass object hitting another, and by the sound of the footfall and the speed of the heart, which is slower than a female’s on account of having a bigger heart, it’s a male. I have got used to hearing the difference, and I like to play guess what gender sometimes when I’m bored.

  I count down in my head the time it will take before the doorbell goes off. I stand up and make my way to the door, sneaking a glance out of the window, seeing that it’s Hunter. I roll my eyes when I see him juggle the bottles in his hands and reach for the doorbell. I pull the door open before he can press it, earning me a shocked expression from him. It’s quickly changed into a smile as he lifts the bottles up.

  “The party is here!” he hollers.

  “The party’s later, come back then,” I grumble before going to close the door again. His foot shoots out, stopping the door in its tracks.

  “But I’m here now,” he counters.

  “Yes,” I start patronizingly, “but the party’s later.”

  “If you don’t let me in through the front door, I’ll find another way in,” he promises. I contemplate forcing the door close, not caring about what’s in the way; however, I pull the door back.

  “Yet another piece of evidence that you’re my creepy stalker. I’ll make sure to have it where the police can find it when they find my body in a ditch,” I tell him dryly as I move out of the way so he can enter.

  He lets out a loud laugh which fills the space as he moves past me. With a flick of my wrist, the door slams after Hunter.

  “What did you get?” I ask Hunter as I follow him into the kitchen and the breakfast bar. As I go, I reach over the back of the couch for the TV remote, turning it off.

  “Anything you can drink without killing yourself and red cups. Nothing says party like a red cup!” he announces like a narrator of a commercial as I lean against the breakfast bar and look him over.

  His dark blue, button-down shirt clings to him, his muscles in his arms bulging against the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt and his leather jacket. The dark gray pants he wears stick to his legs as if they were a second skin. I move my eyes back up him and see his eyes are on me, a smirk present.

  He shrugs off his jacket, throwing it on the couch. He pushes his sleeves back up his arms, re-exposing his tattoos. I drag my eyes off him and look at the three bottles of vodka on the breakfast bar.

  “Is that all you can drink without killing yourself?” I ask with a laugh.

  He replies with a fake laugh. “There’s more in the car.”

  “Well, go and get them then,” I encourage.

  As he makes the journeys back and forth from the car, I decide to go up to my room and get ready. I go immediately into my closet and to the section holding some of the dresses I brought up with me. I slide them across the rail, casting an eye over each of them. I stop my search, looking at a short black dress. The bodice would cling to my curves, and my shoulders and arms would be covered by black lace which made up the top quarter of the dress, with a cutout where my cleavage would be. I take it off the hanger, putting it over my arm before moving to my shoes and grabbing a pair of five-inch pumps.

  Closing the closet door behind me, I listen to Hunter downstairs. I hear something heavy being put down before footsteps move back out of the house. He wasn’t lying when he said that there was more in the car. I listen as he makes a couple more trips before deciding that I should get changed. I slip out of my casual clothes and shimmy the dress up my body before moving to start my makeup and hair.

  Back home, to stop the makeup that I would acquire when I went up with my dad from melting, I have a refrigerated room in my closet. It’s useful when I just want to experiment with makeup, but as soon as I step out of the room, it starts to melt off my face, so I rarely use it and keep it on. Now that I’m on Earth, I’m going to use it whenever I can.

  After I have finished applying my red lipstick, I systematically start to curl my hair. Once I have finished and checked myself over in the mirror, I slide the pumps on, glancing at the clock as I leave the room. The advertised time for the party to start was ten minutes ago; however, I don’t expect people to start arriving for another twenty minutes.

  When I step off the last step, I find that the breakfast bar is covered with all types of different drinks from alcohol to soda. Hunter is fiddling with his phone, trying to get the music to play through the speakers. Once the music is blaring, Hunter turns to see me.

  “Wow, Newbie, you look hot!” he exclaims, his eyes raking over my body.

  “You don’t look too bad yourself, Oldie,” I reply honestly. I see a satisfied smirk touch his lips, but before his ego can revel in the compliment any longer, I change the subject. “Help me move the couches.”

  He moves to one end of the couch as I move to the other. He nods behind me, indicating where we should go, so I start to pull them. I could probably do this by myself, even in the heels, but it would probably look suspicious that I am able to do it so easily. Hunter was obviously not expecting it to move so quickly and far because he stumbles forward. This time, I’m the one with the satisfied smirk on my lips.

  Once all the couches have been moved, creating a makeshift dance floor, I move to the kitchen and more specifically, the drinks.

  “How about we get this party started?” I suggest, reaching for one of the many bottles of vodka.

  Hunter grins, joining me at the counter, agreeing enthusiastically. “Hell yeah!”

  I reach for the shot glasses and pour us each one. I lift it to him before bringing it to my lips and swallowing the liquid down in one. I grimace slightly as it goes down but put the plastic shot glass back down on the counter next to Hunter’s, ready for another one to be poured. After gulping that one down and before our third could be poured, there is a knock at the door.

  “The door’s open!” I call to the people outside. I look to the door as it is swinging open to see that Leo, Jake, and Liam are standing on the other side, all with matching grins. They look between us and then around what they can see of the house, their jaws falling open slightly in awe. Jake lets out a low whistle.

  “Wow, little devil…” He trails off, unable to put his amazement into words. His nickname for me has me snorting. If only he knows how true it is.

  “Come on, you can explore later. We’re starting the party already,” Hunter says, lifting the bottle up for them to see.

  I raise an eyebrow at him and his invitation for them to explore my house, but I roll my eyes and take the glass that he pushes toward me. I bring it to my lips, but Leo stops me.

  “Wait, shouldn’t we do a toast or something?” I look around and see that they all are nodding.

  “Alright then. To Scar, hopefully, a new friend, and to an amazing party,” Liam toasts, bringing his glass to the middle of where we are standing.

  I smile and lift my glass toward the collection in the middle, trying not to slosh the liquid as I clink it against them.

  “Hear, hear,” Hunter says, shooting me a wink.

  I bring the glass back up to my lips, gulping it down. I place the glass back down onto the counter as the doorbell goes again. This time, I walk to the door and find Lily and her friends on the other side. As they follow me back into the house, I leave the door open, allowing the onslaught of people arriving afterward to stream in.

  ***

  Bodies push at me from all angles as I dance on the makeshift dance floor with Lily, Lottie, and Tasha. I throw my head from side to side as I dance to the fast-paced music. As the hair whips out of my eyes, I stop abruptly when I see someone watching me through the dancers. I narrow my eyes and shout to the girls that I am going to get a drink. I
push through the closely packed bodies and toward the person who continues to watch me. I stop in front of them, crossing my arms.

  “What are you doing here, Kyle?” I ask lowly, the music masking my voice to any human.

  “I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. How much have you had to drink?” he asks, lifting my head up by my chin so he can look into my eyes. I pull away from his grip as I answer.

  “Not enough to affect me but enough to have a good time, Dad.” As our blood heals our body and the body sees alcohol as a type of poison, it takes a lot to get demons drunk.

  “Hm, I’ll be watching,” he says before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

  “You know how ominous that sounds, right?” I call after him, earning a chuckle. I try to follow him with my eyes but quickly lose him. I throw my hands up into the air. They may say they do, but they don’t trust me. Why allow me to come up if my dad’s just going to send someone up to dampen my fun?

  I spin on my heel and make my way to the kitchen and to get the drink I told the girls I was going to.

  I enter the kitchen to find that most of the drinks that Hunter bought are still standing on the counter. I reach for a bottle of light amber liquor, not looking at the label, and pour it into a cup with some 7-Up. How much will Kyle let go before he comes and intervenes? I smirk as I bring the cup to my lips and gulp it down. I’m going to put it to the test. I place the cup back down and pour another, bringing it to my lips, and gulping that one down too. I am just pouring a third, feeling the alcohol starting to affect me more, when I see Hunter walking toward me.

  “Whoa, Newbie, slow down there. You’ll be flat on the floor,” he jokes, leaning on his hands placed on the counter opposite me.

  “I’m not a lightweight, Oldie,” I retort before gulping down the one I just poured. I place the cup back down on the counter and reach for the bottles again. I twist the top off and go to pour it into the cup, slowing down as the alcohol starts to make the room sway.

  My throat begins to dry out as my fangs descend. The only downside to alcohol is it causes my thirst for blood to heighten, and with the blood pumping in the people who are dancing, it becomes overwhelming for me.