Hades’ Daughter (The War of Fate)

by Charlotte Carol

  “I can handle a gun,” I tell him. I turn to look at the car which has now stopped. I want to ask Reid who they are, but the sound of the doors opening and then slamming close stops me.

  Standing next to the passenger side, flanked by three men in casual clothes, is a woman. Her long, blond hair is down, flowing around her in the breeze. One of her cold, hard, gray eyes is marred by a long scar running through it and onto her cheek. She wears a short, dark gray dress with pockets, which she has her hands in. Her red heels, which have spikes on the tips and down the heels, click against the concrete as she saunters toward us. A crop denim jacket hangs tops her outfit.

  “Darling! Why are you pointing that gun at me?” the woman asks with an Australian accent, pouting her lips which are painted a bright red.

  Reid’s aim doesn’t waver from the woman’s forehead. I keep my gun down by my side, knowing it will only take me a split second to aim and fire.

  Her gray eyes go to me, giving me a once-over. “Who’s the whore?” she asks.

  “Your worst nightmare,” I say as I pull my gun up and fire a bullet so it barely scratches her ear. She narrows her eyes at me as she lifts a hand up to touch the cut that has formed.

  I give her an innocent smile. She scrutinizes me for a moment before she looks to Reid and back to me. A grin comes to her face as she takes a couple of steps toward Reid, making him rest the gun where he has been aiming. She raises her eyebrows as if she was surprised.

  “Go on then. Shoot me,” she taunts.

  Reid doesn’t do anything and grimaces when she cackles and knocks the gun away from her head.

  “You would have done it by now if you really wanted too,” she tells him, patting his chest.

  Reid grunts and backs away from her. “What do you want, Meredith?” he asks her.

  “You,” she says simply, leaning in and kissing Reid passionately.

  I suddenly feel a surge of anger and maybe even jealousy. Reid goes to pull his gun up, but I’m quicker, lifting my gun up again, pressing it against her temple.

  “He may not shoot you, but I will,” I threaten as I see her tense up before pulling back. She laughs, looking me over again.

  “I knew it,” she exclaims gleefully, clapping her hands together. I narrow my eyes at her as she pushes my gun down, clicking her fingers at one of her men who walks toward me. He pushes me back and away from the woman, Meredith, until I am forced up against a wall. He rips the gun out of my grip.

  I don’t do anything, as my dad would be extremely unhappy with me if we have to go back down today. I look directly into the man’s eyes, and he looks away and shifts in discomfort. A triumphant smile comes to my lips.

  “Hey! Don’t you fucking hurt her,” Reid yells, stepping forward. Meredith pushes Reid back forcefully.

  “We won’t hurt her if you comply with our demands,” she explains.

  Reid glowers at her and spits in her face. The man holding me sees this and takes it as Reid won’t go along with what they want. The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a knife; he brings it up to my neck, pressing it against my skin. Reid doesn’t even think and reacts immediately, lifting his gun up and shooting the man’s head. He falls to the floor like a bag of rocks, finally resting in his own pool of blood.

  I let out a small laugh. It’s nice to get proof that he’ll protect me. The remaining men step toward me, expecting me to attack their leader.

  Meredith, however, doesn’t feel the same way as me as she pushes Reid back violently, using her leg to swipe at Reid’s legs. Reid falls onto his back. She’s fuming as she lifts one of her heels, resting it on Reid’s chest.

  “You’re going to pay for that,” she grits out at Reid as she brings her gun out of a holster on her thigh, pointing it at me.

  Chapter 20

  The Gates of Hell and Fallen Angels

  “Have you got any last words?” she asks, cocking her head to the side as she watches me.

  I bring my hand up to my chin, holding it as if I am thinking.

  “Hm. Let me think…Roses are red. Violets are blue. I have five fingers, and the middle one is for you,” I say, showing her the finger in question with a smile.

  “Anything else?” she asks, not amused.

  “Oh yes, there is.”

  “What?” she asks impatiently.

  “Shoot me,” I challenge, extending my arms out from my body giving her an easy shot.

  Reid shouts out, struggling against Meredith.

  “Happily,” Meredith says as her finger curls closer to the handle of the gun and she pulls the trigger. Click. Meredith pulls it again. Click. Click. Click. Meredith groans, forgetting Reid on the floor, allowing him to move out from under her foot. I walk up to Meredith, putting my head right to her ear.

  “Next time you leave to shoot someone, darling, make sure you are prepared and have the bullets and magazine to do so,” I advise.

  She looks down at the gun, and sure enough, the magazine is not there. Surely, she would have noticed that they were missing, as it would have been lighter than usual, so maybe she’s not as smart as she thinks. She storms past me and to the two men of hers which are remaining.

  “You guys are fucking idiots. I don’t even know why I employ you because you don’t do your bloody job…” she starts on a rant, shouting at them as she hits them both over the head.

  I laugh and reach down for Reid, pulling him up.

  “I think that is our cue to leave. Sorry that I lost your spare gun,” I tell him. His smile is admiring as we walk the short distance to his bike.

  “Don’t worry about it. It was worth it.” He chuckles. I snag the helmet up off the floor and push it down onto my head.

  “I need to stop off on the way back to the park. Is that okay?” he asks, sitting on his bike.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, getting onto the back of his bike.

  “I hope you’re ready to meet some Grim Reapers,” he says, starting the bike up.

  Over the roar of the engine, we are still able to hear Meredith’s voice ranting at her men. Just as Reid is pulling out the other end of the alley, two gunshots ring through the air, and as Reid is turning, I get a glimpse of Meredith holding a different gun, standing in an alley with all three of her men she arrived with, dead around her.

  It only takes us a short ride to get to our destination—a set of iron gates. I look through the visor of the helmet and see at the top of each rung of the gates is a curved piece of metal. I smile at the scythes that they form. The scythes are all held together by curving metal in the shape of vines. Where the gates meet is a solid skull, half on each gate. Where the eyes should have been are the letters G and R.

  “Ooh! Are we at the gates of Hell?” I ask, trying to hold in my laugh at the irony of us actually being in Hell earlier. They’re not exactly hiding.

  “Yeah,” Reid replies, playing along, reaching into his pocket. Seconds later, the gates are opening, and Reid is pulling through them. The drive curves up in front of the house before turning in a circle to go back down. On either side of the tarmac is a garden where people are lounging in the sun. The house, which is a sandy yellow, sprawls out either side of the front door and looks to be more than two stories high.

  “You live here all by yourself?” I joke.

  He chuckles. “No, some of my members are unable to be down on record of where their accommodation is, so they stay here, along with some others who can’t afford their own place. It’s handy having them here, as it’s safe for all of us. It’s harder for them to be caught. There’s plenty of space, as you can see,” he explains.

  “How come no one has been able to find you. The gates are kind of a big clue,” I ask as I get off the bike, looking up and around.

  “Oh, they have. They’re just dealt with,” he answers lightly. I think back to the dead body in my house.

  “Was my present one of those people?”

  “No, but I can give you one next time if you want,” he answ
ers, looking at me out the side of his eye.

  I laugh. He reaches for my hand, pulling me after him to the open doors. When we enter the entrance hall, I am surprised to find that it is spacious and seems to be the epicenter of the house. A staircase is the main feature splitting and going up to different parts of the house. An archway leads to what I assume is the living room, and all the other rooms leading off it are hidden by doors or are down corridors. Men and women are walking through, opening doors to go to different rooms, or walking up the stairs. The splashing of water hits my ears, letting me know that a pool is outside, and judging by where people are walking, it’s out the back. Reid whistles loudly, catching everyone’s attention.

  “Meeting!” he calls simply before dragging me through the people and to an archway leading into one of the corridors. I stumble after him, trying to get any sounds coming from any of the rooms we pass, but it’s silent. We eventually stop outside a door, which Reid opens.

  Behind the door is a spacious room with rows and rows of seats. Reid leads me through the middle of them, stopping at the front.

  “This won’t take long,” he assures me as we watch people begin to trickle into the room, taking seats.

  “What are we doing?” I ask him.

  “We’re having a meeting,” he replies, stating the obvious.

  “No shit, Sherlock. Why is the meeting taking place?”

  “I need to talk to them about the encounter we had, and it’s best if we do it now when we know their most recent sighting. We could get to them if we act fast,” he explains.

  “Okay, but you haven’t explained who they are.”

  “All will be explained in the meeting,” he tells me unhelpfully.

  I mimic him, shaking my head afterward. “You’re so helpful.”

  He looks away from the slowly filling room and at me, letting out a laugh. When I look back at the now sea of people, I see that they are all watching me warily like I am the threat. As the last people file in at the back, I move off to the side, leaning against the wall. Reid clears his throat, and the minimal chatter in the room goes silent.

  “There was an incident,” he starts, his voice powerful and full of authority, holding the room’s attention.

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I mutter under my breath again, however, obviously I wasn’t quiet enough, as everyone in the room, including Reid, looks to where I am standing. A ripple of chuckles goes through the room. Reid raises an eyebrow, silently challenging me to interrupt again.

  “That’s the Scar everyone knows and loves,” says a voice coming from someone standing next to me. I let out a yelp, jumping into the air.

  “Holy shit on a stick!” I shout, lifting a hand to my erratically beating heart. I’m usually aware of my surroundings, but I didn’t even know someone was standing next to me just now. I lash out at the person next to me, catching them on the arm with my hand.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Hunter?” I shout.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he counters, an amused smile on his lips. Reid clears his throat again, looking between the two of us.

  “Have you finished?” he asks.

  I send Reid an encouraging smile for him to continue before muttering to Hunter, “This isn’t over.”

  “Let’s try and continue without any more interruptions,” Reid announces, sending a pointed look in my direction.

  I stick my tongue out at him, causing more chuckles to bounce around the room. “But before we do, I should really introduce someone first. Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Scarlett.”

  My head shoots up in surprise, but I gather myself enough, trying not to embarrass either of us, to step forward and give a salute to the room.

  “What’s up?” I ask as I start to scan the rest of the room. If Hunter is here, Leo, Liam, and Jake are most likely somewhere nearby also. Sure enough, I see the three faces sitting at the back of the room, with varying shades of boredom on their faces. When they see me looking at them, they grin and nod at me in greeting. I let out a breathy laugh and step back to the wall.

  “Let’s get back to the whole reason for the meeting. As I said, there was an incident including Meredith and a couple of members from the Fallen Angels,” he says, gaining everyone’s attention again. The Fallen Angels? Really? Does every gang in this area have a name to do with death? I clear my throat, trying to cover up my laughter. But a few indications slip through.

  “Something amusing you?” Hunter whispers in my ear, his eyes still on Reid at the front.

  “Are all the gang names to do with death or Hell?” I whisper back.

  He laughs himself. “No. Not all of them. There is a history between ours and the Fallen Angels. The Fallen Angels were created by an ex-member of the Grim Reapers who had gone rogue. That’s Meredith. She named her gang the Fallen Angels to piss Reid off. You know the scar running down her face…”

  “Yes, it was kind of hard to miss it.”

  “Yeah,” he says, laughing. “Well, she received it in a fight between her and Reid. It happened just before she left. Reid has his own scars from the fight, but you wouldn’t be able to see them now. He likes to keep them hidden. Meredith went rogue about two years ago, but there was always a rift between them before then. Ever since she left, she has been hell-bent on destroying the Grim Reapers and Reid.”

  “When did you join then?”

  “That is a story for another time,” he says as Reid is just rounding off the meeting.

  “I want to know straight away of any Fallen Angels activity. If you see anyone who is not here now, let them know about the things said today as always. Okay? Everyone is dismissed,” he tells them before moving to the side and to me. I quickly say a goodbye to Hunter before meeting him.

  “Are you okay with sticking around here for a bit longer? I’m waiting on people to return,” he asks, pulling me closer to his body.

  I wrap my arms around his neck. “Hm. I guess.”

  His gaze moves off my face and around the room; his face shows that he thinks that this isn’t the best place to be doing this. I unwrap my arms from around his neck, taking a step back, understanding completely why. I wouldn’t want any demons to see me being affectionate with anyone. You need to come across as a leader with no emotions, especially in his job.

  “Come on,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to a door opposite the entrance to the meeting room. He reaches into his pocket, bringing out a key. He inserts it, twisting it with the handle.

  When he allows it to swing open, it shows an office on the other side. A big desk is the main feature in the middle of the room, a bookcase on one of the walls next to it. I look around and see that this is one of three doors. One looks as if it leads back into the hallway.

  He pulls me past the couch next to the bookcase and into the middle of the room, to the desk. I try and glance around the room some more, but I am only able to see a potted plant in the corner before my gaze is obscured by Reid standing in front of me.

  He lifts me up by the hips and places me down on the solid wood of the desk. He walks forward, nudging my knees apart to stand between them. I wrap my legs around him, resting my arms on his strong shoulders.

  “There’s a perfectly good couch over there,” I tell him, motioning to where it sits.

  He smiles. “I know. I wouldn’t be able to get this close to you there though,” he says.

  “I’m your girlfriend, huh?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he replies smugly.

  “The funny thing is I don’t recall you asking,” I remark, putting on a fake somber face. “I’m sorry, but it’s not official.”

  “We can’t have that, can we?” he says, playing along. “Scarlett?”

  “Yes, Reid?”

  “Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” he asks.

  I pretend to gasp in shock. “It’s all so fast. I didn’t expect this at all,” I joke.

  I pretend to contemplate it for a moment. “Hm. Why not?” I
say with a shrug.

  “You’ve made me the happiest man alive with your ‘Why not?’” he says sarcastically, still playing along with our act.

  He and I laugh.

  “I like your laugh,” he says, moving forward. Sensing the incoming kiss, I lean back, looking around for something to use as a distraction, not wanting another clucking incident. I snatch the closest thing, which happened to be a photo frame holding a picture of a young boy.

  “Who’s this?” I ask, examining the picture. The boy looked like what I expect a young Reid to look like. I hear Reid let out a low, annoyed groan but still answers.

  “That’s my brother.”

  “I thought you were in care for most of your life,” I say, remembering the article I read about him. I freeze as soon as I let it slip that I had looked him up.

  “How did you know that?” he asks defensively. He admitted he got one of his people to look me up after we met, so how is this any different? Maybe it’s a touchy subject. I place the frame back down and try and think of a response.

  I, however, am saved from answering him when there is a knock on the door. Reid lets out another groan.

  “Who is it?” Reid calls out.

  The door opens a crack, and Hunter pokes his head in. He looks to where Reid is standing and down to where my legs are wrapped around him. His jaw clenches along with his fist.

  “What do you want, Stone?” Reid snaps.

  “I need to talk to you. Alone,” Hunter says.

  I let my legs fall from around Reid and cross them, leaning back on my hands. Now free, Reid turns fully to look at Hunter.

  “Whatever you need to tell me, you can say in front of Scar,” Reid says with a tone that suggests no argument, but it doesn’t seem to reach Hunter because he goes to open his mouth in objection. Sensing that this could cause an argument and not really feeling like I want to see another fight today, I intervene.