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Authors: Alexandra Adornetto

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BOOK: Hades
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shirts, dowsed in his cologne, under my pil ow so that every

night I could imagine he was with me. It was funny how the

goofiest behavior could feel perfectly natural when you were

in love. I knew there were people who rol ed their eyes at

Xavier and me, but if they did, we were too absorbed in

each other’s company to notice.

When Xavier pul ed away from the curb, I snapped back

to reality, like someone waking from a deep sleep.

“I’l pick you up tomorrow morning,” he cal ed out with a

dreamy smile. “Usual time.”

I stood in our tangled front yard watching until the Chevy

final y turned off at the end of the street.

Byron was stil my haven and I loved retreating there.

Everything was soothingly familiar, from the creaking steps

on the front porch to the large and airy rooms inside. It felt

like a safe cocoon away from the turbulence of the world. It

was true to say that while I loved human life, it scared me

sometimes. The earth had problems—problems almost too

large and too complex to ful y comprehend. Thinking about

them made my head spin. It also made me feel ineffectual.

But Ivy and Gabriel had told me to stop wasting my energy

and focus on our mission. There were plans for us to visit

other cities and towns in the vicinity of Venus Cove to expel

any dark forces residing there. Little did we know they

would find us before we had a chance to find them.

Dinner was already underway when I got home. My

brother and sister were out on the deck. They were each

engaged in solitary activities; Ivy had her nose in a book

and Gabriel was deep in concentration, composing on his

guitar. His expert fingers massaged the chords gently and

they seemed to answer his silent command. I joined them

and knelt down to pat my dog, Phantom, who was sleeping

soundly with his head resting on his giant, silky paws. He

stirred at my touch, his silvery body as sleek as ever. He

looked up at me with his sad, moonlight eyes, and I

imagined his expression to say:
Where have you been all

day?

Ivy lay semi-recumbent in the hammock, her golden hair

flowing down to her waist. It looked resplendent in the light

of the setting sun. My sister didn’t quite know how to relax in

a hammock; she looked too poised and reminded me of a

mythical creature who had somehow found herself

unceremoniously plonked in a world that made no sense to

her. She was wearing a pastel blue muslin dress and had

even set up a fril y parasol, to protect her from the fading

sunlight. No doubt she’d found it in some vintage shop and

couldn’t resist buying it.

“Where did you get that?” I laughed. “I think they went out

of fashion a while ago.”

“Wel , I think it’s charming,” said Ivy, laying down the novel

she’d been reading. I took a peek at the cover.


Jane Eyre
?” I asked dubiously. “You do know it’s a love

story, right?”

“I’m aware,” said my sister huffily.

“You’re turning into me!” I teased.

“I highly doubt I could ever be as swooning and sil y as

you are,” Ivy replied in a matter-of-fact tone but her eyes

were playful.

Gabriel stopped strumming his guitar to look over at us.

“I don’t think anybody could outdo Bethany in that

department,” he said with a smile. He put down his guitar

careful y and went to lean against the railing, staring out to

sea. As usual Gabe stood arrow straight, his white-blond

hair pul ed back in a ponytail. His steel gray eyes and his

sculpted features made him look like the celestial warrior

he was—but he was dressed like a human in faded jeans

and a loose shirt. His face was open and friendly. I was

pleased to see that Gabriel was more relaxed these days. I

felt as if both my siblings were less critical of me, more

accepting of the choices I’d made.

“How is it you always get home before me?” I

complained. “When I take a car and you walk!”

“I have my ways,” my brother replied with a secretive

smile. “Besides, I don’t have to pul over every two minutes

to express my affection.”

“We do not pul over to express affection!” I objected.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “So that wasn’t Xavier’s car

parked two blocks from school?”

“Maybe it was.” I tossed my head nonchalantly, hating

how he was always right. “But every two minutes is a slight

exaggeration!”

Ivy’s heart-shaped face glowed as she broke into a

laugh. “Oh, Bethany, relax. We’re used to the PDAs by

now.”

“Where did you learn that?” I asked curiously. I’d never

heard Ivy use abbreviated col oquialisms. Her formal

speech usual y sounded so out of place in the modern

world.

“I do spend time with young people, you know,” she said.

“I’m trying to be hip.”

Gabriel and I burst out laughing.

“In that case, don’t say
hip
for starters,” I advised.

Ivy leaned down to ruffle my hair affectionately and

changed the subject. “I hope you don’t have plans for this

weekend.”

“Can Xavier come?” I asked eagerly before she’d even

had a chance to explain what she and Gabe had in mind.

Xavier had long become a fixture in my life. Even when we

were apart, it seemed there was no activity or distraction

that could keep my thoughts from straying back to him.

Gabriel pointedly rol ed his eyes. “If he must.”

“Of course he must,” I said, grinning. “So what’s the

plan?”

“There’s a town cal ed Black Ridge twenty miles from

here,” my brother said. “We’ve been told they’re

experiencing some … disturbances.”

“You mean demonic disturbances?”

“Wel , three girls have gone missing in the last month and

a perfectly sound bridge col apsed onto passing traffic.”

I winced. “Sounds like our kind of problem. When do we

leave?”

“Saturday,” Ivy said. “So you better rest up.”

2

Co-Dependent

THE next day Mol y and I sat with the girls in the west

courtyard, which had become our new favorite hangout.

Mol y had changed since the loss of her best friend the year

before. Taylah’s death at the hands of Jake Thorn had been

a wake-up cal for my family. We had not foreseen the

extent of Jake’s powers until the day he’d slit her throat to

send us a message.

Since then Mol y had drifted away from her old circle of

friends and out of a sense of loyalty, I’d gone along with her.

I didn’t mind the switch. I knew Bryce Hamilton must now be

ful of painful memories for Mol y and I wanted to support

her in every way I could. Besides, our new group was more

or less the same as the old one. These were girls we’d

hung out with on occasion but never become close with.

They knew al the same people and gossiped about the

same things, so becoming integrated into their group was

easy as pie.

Things were strained in the group that had once included

Taylah, and I knew Mol y couldn’t real y relax with them.

Occasional y, out of the blue, conversations would come to

an awkward halt. The kind of pause where you knew

everyone was thinking the same thing:
What would Taylah

say right now?
But no one had the courage to speak her

name out loud. I had a feeling things would never be quite

the same for these girls. They’d tried to make things go

back to normal, but most of the time it felt as if they were

trying too hard. They laughed too loudly and their jokes

sounded rehearsed. It seemed that whatever they said or

did, they were constantly reminded of Taylah’s absence.

Taylah and Mol y had been at the very core of the group,

self-appointed authorities on so many things. Now Taylah

was gone and Mol y was completely withdrawn. The other

girls had lost both their mentors and were completely adrift

without them.

It was hard watching them struggle col ectively with their

grief; a grief they couldn’t articulate for fear of unleashing

emotion they couldn’t control. I so badly wanted to tel them

not to see death as an end but as a new beginning and

explain to them that Taylah had simply crossed to a new

plane of existence, one that was unencumbered by

physicality. I wanted them to know that Taylah was out there

stil , only now she was free. I wanted to tel them about

Heaven and the peace she would find there. But, of course,

sharing any of that knowledge was impossible. Not only

would I be breaking our most sacred code and exposing

our presence on earth, but I’d also be instantly kicked out of

the group for being a lunatic.

Our newly adopted friends huddled around a cluster of

carved wooden benches beneath a stone archway that

they’d claimed as their own. One thing that hadn’t changed

was their territorial nature. If any outsiders accidental y

strayed into our area, they didn’t linger long. The glaring

looks of disapproval that flew in their direction were usual y

enough to drive them away. Gray clouds rol ed ominously

overhead, but the girls never went inside unless there was

absolutely no alternative. As usual they sat with their hair

perfectly coiffed and their skirts hitched up, soaking up the

weak rays of sunlight that dipped and wavered behind the

clouds, washing the courtyard in a soft, dappled light. Any

opportunity to work on their tans could not be missed.

The Hal oween party on Friday had served to lift

everyone’s spirits and generate a lot of excitement. It was

being held at an abandoned estate just out of town that

belonged to the family of one of the seniors, Austin Knox.

His great-grandfather Thomas Knox had built the house in

1868, several years after the Civil War ended. He was one

of the town’s original founders and although the Knox family

hadn’t visited the place in years, historical landmark laws

protected it from demolition. So it had remained vacant and

uninhabited over the years. It was a run-down, old country

homestead with deep porches on every side, surrounded

by nothing but fields and a deserted highway. The locals

cal ed it the Boo Radley House—nobody ever went in or out

—and Austin claimed he’d even seen his great-

grandfather’s ghost standing at one of the upstairs

windows. According to Mol y, it was perfect party material;

nobody ever passed that way except for people who’d

taken a wrong turn on a road trip or the occasional trucker.

Plus, it was wel enough away from town that nobody could

complain about the noise. It had original y started out as a

smal gathering, but word had somehow gotten out and now

the whole school was talking about it. Even some of the

better-connected sophomores had managed to score an

invite.

I sat next to Mol y, whose titian curls were wound on top

of her head in a loose bun. Without makeup she had the

face of a china dol with wide sky blue eyes and rosebud

lips. She couldn’t resist a slick of lip gloss, but aside from

that, she’d pared everything back in her attempt to win favor

with Gabriel. I’d expected by now she’d be over the

hopeless crush she had on my brother, but so far her

feelings for him only seemed to have intensified.

I preferred Mol y without makeup; I liked the way she

looked her age rather than someone ten years older.

“I’m going as a naughty schoolgirl,” Abigail announced.

“In other words you’re going as yourself?” Mol y said with

a snort.

BOOK: Hades
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