Hades’ Daughter (The War of Fate) Page 10

  I drop the bottle down onto the counter with a clunk and bring a hand up to my mouth to cover my fangs. I force myself to hold back the horns, hoping people won’t see the changes on my face and my eyes. I immediately turn. Hunter chuckles and calls after me.

  “Not a lightweight, huh?”

  I lift my hand up to him, showing him my middle finger as I walk through the throng of students by the counter, talking. I force my way through, keeping my head down. I make my way between the dancers in the middle of the floor as I try to get to the stairs.

  Hands fall onto my hips, and I spin around going to shout at whoever it was but stop when I realize that the boy in front of me will see my fangs and that will be hard to explain. Taking me looking at him as a good thing, he pulls me closer, allowing me to smell the alcohol on his breath.

  His green eyes look me over as he starts to move us to the music. My bloodlust grows, and I take a couple of breaths, trying to decide what to do. I let out a small groan, knowing deep down that I shouldn’t be doing this. This’ll give Kyle something to think about. Almost as if my body knows that it’ll be satisfied in a minute, my fangs retract, allowing me to go through with my plan.

  I begin to move my hips on my own accord against him, and this causes the boy’s grin to widen. I return his grin, showing him my now straight teeth. When he pushes himself toward me and I feel how aroused he is, I have to force myself to not step away from him. Think of the end game, Scar. I say it over and over in my head like a mantra.

  The next song starts up, and I brush my lips against his ear. “Why don’t we take this upstairs?”

  His eyes widen, but whatever he is thinking doesn’t stop him from nodding his head vigorously. My hand finds his, gripping it tightly as I drag him off the dance floor and to the stairs going up the wall near the front door.

  The boy struggles to keep up as I march up the stairs. I glance over my shoulder to see if Kyle is going to stop me, but he’s nowhere in sight; instead, my eyes meet Hunters. I can’t tell what he’s thinking from here, but I see him turn his back just before we disappear upstairs.

  I look back to the boy who is going to be my snack and see that his face in slightly pained. I let go of his hand, noticing that his fingers are almost purple as well as being squashed together. His face relaxes slightly as he pulls his hand closer to his body.

  A hand, which is not purple, attaches itself to my hip. I spin around to find his mouth is traveling toward me. I lift my hand and place it on his face, pushing so he goes stumbling back into the wall. The boy gets a fearful look on his face. My fingers trail down his face before resting on his neck, right above his jugular.

  “If I place a bite here,” I say, pressing against it, “you’ll most likely survive…”

  “What the—” he starts scared, but I stop him with my other hand over his mouth.

  “But if I were to move to here,” I add, trailing my fingers to his carotid artery, “you would be dead in minutes.”

  He mumbles into my hand, his eyes frantic. “What sort of freak are you?”

  I flash him a smile, showing him my fangs.

  “One with fangs. And I wouldn’t move. If I were to nick your windpipe, you would drown in your own blood, and that wouldn’t fun for either of us,” I warn as I step toward him. He goes to step back, but being already up against a wall, he has nowhere to go.

  “You’re crazy!”

  I ignore his exclamation as I continue to step forward.

  “Now, before we start, we have to set a few rules. So, if you wouldn’t look into my eyes,” I request, knowing that he wouldn’t do what I wanted if I just asked him straight.

  No matter how hard a human tries, they will eventually want to look into our eyes. Humans are curious creatures by nature, and if you plant something in their mind, they’ll want to do it eventually. If I were to say, “Don’t think of a pink elephant,” what’s the first thing your mind goes to?

  When I was first learning how to compel, my dad tried to explain to me what happened to a human to make them do what we ask. Demons have to get the person to look into their eyes to establish some sort of connection, and once you have the connection into the person’s mind, the demon will automatically, without any prompting and knowledge, form the human/soul’s dream person.

  The human brain will then do anything that the demon says, afraid of upsetting the image of their dream. The demon will also take the voice in the person’s head, telling them what they should do. If the demon says jump off a cliff, dazed from what they are seeing and the constant voice of the demon in their head telling them to, they’ll comply. If the demon tells the person to forget what is about to happen, the brain will have temporary anterograde amnesia. It can be really useful sometimes. I’ve never experienced the feeling because compulsion doesn’t work on demons.

  It takes a moment before finally the boy looks up and into my eyes. I smile, starting the process of a connection. I imagine entering the boy’s mind, and only when the boy gets a dazed look on his face do I know that it’s working. If every time someone looks into our eyes, they were compelled, it would cause a lot of trouble.

  “You will forget everything that happened tonight when you wake up tomorrow. You will think it’s as a result of drinking too much,” I compel him.

  I break the connection by blinking and then leaning down to his neck and trailing my fangs over the jugular vein which I pointed out to him earlier. I’m not worried about being caught because if anyone were to come up the stairs, it would be just like we couldn’t wait until we got to my room.

  I let my fangs pierce the skin and then feel the blood starting to pool into my mouth. It’s tainted by alcohol, and so it’s less sweet than it usually would be. If I weren’t drunk myself, I probably would have chosen someone who is soberer.

  The boy’s moans fill the upstairs as I continue to gulp down his blood. A vein is smaller than an artery, so it takes longer for me to be satisfied.

  As more of his blood enters my system, the more the alcohol in it affects me. My barometer of when to stop isn’t as good, so I continue drinking when I should really be stopping.

  The boy’s moans grow weaker until he finally slumps against me. Still not wanting to stop, I catch him and continue to suck the blood down.

  Through the haze of alcohol over my mind I register that I am not alone. The muffled sound of my name being called reaches my ears, but I still do not stop, only getting blood matters to me at the moment. Hands come down onto my shoulders.

  “Scar, stop!” This time the voice cuts through the fog of alcohol and blood-lust. I detach my fangs from the boy’s neck and turn to the person who dared to interrupt, baring my blood-covered fangs.

  Kyle’s calm face stares back at me, and only then do I understand what I have done.

  What if Kyle were Hunter instead? Have I killed the boy? I turn back to find the boy has fallen to the floor. I go down next to him, shaking his shoulder. Please don’t be dead! I will it over and over again as I pat his cheek. My dad would kill me.

  I listen for a heartbeat, and over my own pounding one and Kyle’s, I hear a faint one. I breathe a sigh of relief as I fall onto my butt. I use my hand to wipe away the blood on my chin and my tongue to wipe my teeth clean. I’ve not lost control like that in a long time, and it scared me.

  “You have to get him out of here,” I plead with Kyle.

  He nods. “On it, you compelled him, right?” he asks, knowing exactly what I am thinking.

  “Yeah, of course, I did.” I push myself to my feet, using the wall for support, as the alcohol is starting to make me unbalanced on my feet.

  Kyle picks the unconscious boy up and starts down the stairs, turning back to me at the last minute.

  “Don’t worry about it. He’s going to be okay.” He continues down the stairs, calling to the people at the bottom to move out of the way. Hopefully, no one is going to look closely at the boy, and they will assume that he’s just drunk.

 
I run my hand through my hair. I’m getting sick of this party and just want my house back. I follow Kyle’s path and walk back downstairs. The pounding music is still going, and it’s giving me a headache.

  I shove people out of the way as I go to where Hunter’s phone is still sitting and turn the music off. Shouts of complaint start up, but I shout over them.

  “Everyone, get out. The party’s over!” They all stare at me, not moving, and I begin to get angry.

  “I mean it! Get out of my house!” I give each of them my most threatening look and am pleased when it causes everyone to race out of the house. I move through the house and open doors, telling the people in the rooms behind them to leave before I make my way to my room.

  I lie in my bed and listen as the house slowly becomes silent again, only a few people trailing behind. Tired and too comfy to get out of the bed to see if everyone has left, I fall asleep in my dress to the sound of the front door closing.

  Chapter 9

  A Normal Day

  I wake the next morning to a fuzzy memory of what happened the night before and a splitting headache. One of the downsides to being a demon is the morning after you’ve consumed alcohol, the hangover is much worse than what a human experiences. I groan and pull the duvet up to cover my sensitive eyes. I yearn for the darker surroundings of Hell right now.

  Slowly, memories start to trickle back to me: Kyle being there, biting that boy, and then forcing everyone to leave. I let out another groan when I think of the mess that is most likely downstairs waiting for me.

  I roll over in my bed and hug the pillow to me, hoping that sleep will claim me again. When it doesn’t come and I only become more awake and less likely to fall back asleep, I peek at the time through squinted eyes.

  I fall onto my back, my hand going to my forehead. I don’t want to get up. I want to lie in my bed for the rest of the day, but my throat is scratchy and dry, and I need the toilet. I begrudgingly get out of the bed and stumble toward my bathroom, relieving my bladder.

  I have all the same bodily functions as a human, as the anatomies of our bodies are both the same. The only differences between human and demon are the blood and the fact that we are technically not alive.

  To change from human to demon, you have to drink the blood of a demon and then six humans before dying. The demon blood in the human system starts to fight the blood already there, and as if you were a demon all along, you start to get cravings for blood. The rationale behind drinking the six human’s blood is that you will have enough different human blood in you to keep you in a limbo state when you die. Not quite dead, but not quite alive.

  It’s only once you die and drink the blood of a soul that you fully change. The blood of a soul is the third and final kind of blood there is. The combination causes your body to replace the blood you already have in your veins by copying the strongest of the three and the one that can handle it—demon blood. This helps you survive having the other blood in your system. Your soul will then return to your body on Earth, and your body will stay with the blood you drank in the process.

  The whole process makes you partly already dead (which means you can’t die again) and also minutely human but mainly demon. The technicality of you being already dead, along with the demon blood, helps the aging process slow down and the healing process speed up. The blood we drink has all the nutrients and things in it to keep us looking human. If we were to stop drinking the blood, our demon features would take over.

  It’s long and complicated, and my brain hurts from just thinking about it, so it’s rarely done. The end result isn’t as good either. You are much better off being born a demon, as that way, you don’t have to go through the hassle and are a much stronger demon.

  I leave my bathroom and stroll past the wall where I fed on the boy, noticing the bloodstain on the carpet. That’s going to be a pain to get out. I move down the stairs, stopping when I see a body on the couch amidst all the trash from last night.

  I lean on the banister, trying to get a better look. Are they dead? I shake the thought away when I notice that it’s Hunter and his chest is rising and falling with his breaths. I continue down the stairs and walk to the couch, leaning over the back. I extend a finger and poke Hunter’s bicep which is covering his eyes.

  “Oldie.”

  He stirs slightly, rolling over, but doesn’t wake up.

  I poke him again this time in the back. He grumbles in his sleep but still doesn’t wake up.

  I walk past all the trash covering the floor and counter and go to the sink. I grab a glass and fill it with water, taking a quick gulp to try and alleviate the dryness somewhat; however, I know that only blood is going to help fully. I’ll kick Hunter out and then have the blood I desperately want.

  I pad back to Hunter and empty the contents of the glass over him. He sits up in a start, spluttering through the water.

  “What the—”

  “Get up, Oldie,” I say as I walk back into the kitchen, placing the glass on the counter near the sink. I hear Hunter getting up from the couch and sit on a stool behind the counter where the empty bottles of alcohol are strewn across.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask him as I fill the glass again.

  “There was a party last night, lightweight…Remember?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t explain why you are still here,” I tell him as I reach for an apple. I bite into it as I raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for his response.

  “The guys and I decided to stay over.”

  “Well, you can go and wake the guys up and then leave.”

  He grumbles but slides down for the seat and begins to walk up the stairs. I wait for the confusion and scream when he sees the blood, but it never comes.

  Moving quickly, I bend down and open the cupboard under the sink and take out a bag of blood. I rip the top off and gulp down the liquid.

  Once the bag is drained, I open the trash can and shove the empty bag to the bottom. I wipe my mouth, burping slightly. I lift the apple back up to my mouth and take another bite when I hear Hunter and his friends making their way back down the stairs. I expect them to continue out the front door, but they all come grumbling and groaning into the kitchen, sitting on the stools. I finish the apple in a couple more bites before throwing the core into the trash.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for breakfast,” Jake answers, his head resting on his arms on the counter. “What are we having, little devil?”

  “My foot up your asses if you don’t leave right now,” I tell them, crossing my arms.

  Jake lifts his head up, a pout gracing his face. I look to Liam who looks like he’s fallen asleep again and to Leo who is getting down from his stool, shrugging.

  “I would have preferred you to cook us a nice meal, but I guess it has to do.” Leo turns around, his ass out in the air in my direction. He wiggles it side to side.

  I groan, rubbing my hands over my face. I can’t deal with them this early in the morning, especially with a hangover as well.

  “Ugh! Fine, what do you want?”

  “Pancakes and lots of coffee!” Jake says, his head resting back on his folded arms.

  I kick Leo in the ass, just for the hell of it, before turning my back to them. Leo yelps before going back to sit with his friends.

  I yawn as I put the coffee on, wanting it and needing it as well as them.

  “You expect me to make it all?” I ask as I take out mugs.

  “You are a woman,” Hunter points out.

  I scoff and place the mug down on the counter before turning to him. I may be a woman, but I could kill him in seconds and run the worst place in the universe at the same time.

  “And you are a misogynistic asshole,” I retort. An amused and almost proud smirk touches his lips as the others laugh. “Now, get off your fat behind and come and help.” I turn back to the coffee, pouring it into the mugs.

  “You think I have a fat ass?” Hunter asks, faking sadness as he goe
s to the fridge.

  “I would have to look at it to make that judgment,” I comment, placing the full mugs in front of Leo, Liam, and Jake.

  “You’ve looked at my ass? I didn’t know you cared,” Hunter jokes, placing the ingredients on the counter.

  I pick my own mug up and walk past the guys drinking their coffee, trying to wake up. I look back as I get to where the kitchen and living room meet.

  “No. I took a guess.” I take a sip of my second favorite liquid as I turn and continue to the stairs.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Hunter calls after me, walking out into the living room to come after me.

  “Upstairs, to get ready for the day, while you make them breakfast,” I call back as I get to the landing. I hear the guys still in the kitchen let out hoots of laughter. “After all, if you expect me to clean the house as well, I thought I could get a head-start, being a woman and all,” I add on a sarcastically.

  I step past the bloodstain, noticing that it’s dry and relatively small. The boy was only down there for a short while; it could have been worse. I take another sip of my coffee as I push the door to my bedroom open, going directly to my closet to grab a pair of white cut-off shorts and a blue tank top.

  I shove my feet into a pair of sandals, slipping a long necklace over my head as I exit my room with my empty mug of coffee. Knowing that I will forget to do it later, I decide to clean the blood up before I leave for the day.

  I lightly run down the stairs, and walk into the kitchen where Hunter, Leo, Liam, and Jake are eating pancakes. When they see me, they all wear matching grins.

  I look at them suspiciously as I walk to the closet, grabbing a brush, bucket, and detergent. I fill the bucket, still watching them cautiously. They continue to eat, but the grins don’t go. I shake my head at them as I walk back out of the kitchen and upstairs. I will never understand them.

  Careful not to get any of the blood on my clothes, I start to brush the patch before adding the detergent to the water and working at washing the stain away. My mind goes back to Hell and the last time I was cleaning blood away. I wonder what my dad is up to now. Probably happily relaxing, knowing I’m not there to cause trouble. How long will it take him before he gets bored?