Broken Kiss (a Teen Wolf story)

Part 9

            “You expect me to take your hand and follow you into that?” Lydia gestured at the portal behind the giant of a man, at a landscape as desolate as the last vision’s had been vivid. The rocky ground was charcoal. The division between it and the sky was virtually indiscernible, since the sky was only a lighter shade of gray. The red of his lips was the only color. The flash from the silver of his robes when he shifted was the only movement. Well, that and the muscle rippling beneath it.

            “The underworld can be welcoming if I want it to be.”

            “Who are you?” Lydia murmured, feeling the truth of the coming answer even as her mind rebelled against it.

            “Hades,” he replied simply. His gaze traced her hair before returning to her eyes. “You are a striking being, Lydia Martin. You will be most welcome here.”

            She recoiled, hands fisting beneath her elbows as she crossed her arms.

            “I am not interested in you.”

            Rather than laughing or making some biting comment to let her know she wasn’t worth his time, his expression hardened.

            “Nor I in you. All living things will arrive here eventually, but my wife will always be the most beautiful of them. You do not compare to her. Nobody does.” His eyes flashed, and Lydia’s lips parted. He adored his wife, violently. Her chest tightened, and she shivered, both in reaction to his aggression and the thought of anyone carrying passion like that for her.

            “What do you want then?” she asked.

            “Your gift. Some of the denizens of this realm are outside of my reach. They exist, but follow neither the rules nor my direct orders. I want to know why.”

            “And what would you want of me?”

            “Banshees are…not of this plane. But death is a common condition not limited by the worlds they came from. It may be that they simply cannot understand me. I want you to listen to them and tell me if they are capable of thought. I want you to ask them their purpose.”

            “So you can do what to them?”

            His chin tipped up at the hostility in her question, and when his mouth opened it was more a baring of teeth than a smile.

            “You misunderstand,” he said evenly. “I rule the dead. I am not their tormentor. These beings may be suffering. They may be misplaced. It happens sometimes. The devils among the living often send spirits here before their time through trickery or cursework. If they do not belong, they will be returned. If they are devoid of spirit, I can move on to more pressing matters. If they harbor ill intent, then I shall have them tried.”

            That didn’t sound so bad, but Lydia still didn’t want to go to the underworld. It looked so cold, so vast. Surrounded by so many dead, with nobody to anchor her, she could be lost. Drifting in the voices and the gloom until she went mad.

            “You could learn to control it,” Hades said, as if he could hear her thoughts. “To harness and direct this gift. It’s a peculiar one for a human to hold. Perhaps it is not useful in your world. Perhaps it is a torment. In exchange for your assistance, I could help you to be free of it.”

            A chance to look for Allison. A chance for her mind to be her own, and occupied with nothing worse than anxiety over next Friday’s test. Lydia’s hands slipped from her sides and crawled across the railing. Hades seemed to swell, growing larger. The boundaries of the gateway flexed, and gray began to creep into her peripheral vision.

             “You will be returned to within a day of your departure,” Hades said. “Nobody will miss you.”

            It was the weekend. Her mom was at Dan’s and wouldn’t notice at all. The others…she hadn’t heard from them since school got out which meant they were probably wrapped up in something of their own. And hadn’t thought to include her, so it was probably something that required claws and chasing rather than analysis or an intelligent opinion. The only person who might miss her was Peter.

            That thought sent a strange anticipation through her. Her breaths came faster. If he came looking for her and sensed that Hades had been around, Peter would be…

            What?

            Would he tear the lake house apart or charge through the forest looking for her? More likely he’d shrug and disappear again. The disappointment at that thought was almost calming, it was so familiar. No. Nobody would miss her.

            “Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath and raising her hand. “I’ll go.”

            The roar that sounded shook her to her bones. Gasping, Lydia flung herself around. Her nails dug into the wood when she saw what was coming

            Eyes blazing, fangs sharp and claws spread, the werewolf charged.

            Lydia screamed.