Chapter 4
Karen walked behind Frank in a daze, sure that at any moment she was going to wake up in the park, hair full of leaves, mouth gritty with sleep. She had to be dreaming. Was she really chilling with the God of the Underworld? And her mother? Her mother was some lesser Goddess of… nature? It made more sense than Karen cared to admit, so she pushed it away, trying to convince herself she was in slumberland.
They walked along a rocky path, dark trees swaying mysteriously without wind. A faint glow on the horizon providing the strange half-light that passed for day in the underworld. Her eyes were drawn back to her companion, flickering along the line of his shoulders, down the ridge of his spine to his lower back. The thin cotton shirt he wore left little to the imagination, clinging to his rigid musculature. Even in her dreams she'd never invented someone so well made. A little shiver of appreciation zipped through her, eyes wandering further south.
So, Hades wore designer jeans that hugged his ass as he floated gracefully along. Karen felt a hysterical giggle bubble up through her. She bit down on her bottom lip to stifle it, knowing if she gave in there would be a flood of panicked tears not too far behind. She was losing her mind.
Frank heard the strangled sound and glanced back over his shoulder at her, brow furrowing when he saw how far she'd lagged behind. He stopped, ready to grumble about her slow pace, but the sight of her caught the words in throat. Her eyes, somehow bluer than before, stared at him in wide-eyed astonishment.
She threw an arm out, pointing at his feet, accusatory finger shaking. "Are you f-floating?"
His eyebrows shot up, surprise painting his features. "Shit.. Sorry." He dropped to the ground, fine dust settling across the tops of his boots. It was second nature for him when he was in the underworld, zipping from place to place. He didn't exactly feel like casually strolling through this hellish landscape, stopping to smell the aroma of faint despair wasn't a priority.
She threw her head back and let loose with a gale of laughter, tears streaming down the sides of her face, dampening the hair at her temples. Frank froze, the waves of unexpected hysteria coming from her knocked the breath out of him. He scrambled to throw up his shields. He was used to feeling the constant hum of ups and downs when on earth, but it wasn't a power he thought much about. Humans didn't normally have this much oomph behind their emotions.
He blinked, barricades back up, and focused his attention back on her. The laughter had faded, and she'd drawn her hands up to her face, mumbling something into her wet palms. Frank took a step toward her, nearly tripping as a vine snaked out into the path, wrapping around his ankle.
He kicked it away, turning back to her. The trees along the side of the path were slowly but surely bending down toward her, branches tentatively creeping down until one brushed the top of her blonde head, suddenly imbued with an eerily anthropomorphic tenderness.
He reached for her, intending to take her gently by the shoulder, shake her out of this little breakdown she was having, but a branch swatted him out of the way. He hissed. "Son of a bitch!"
For a split second rage boiled through him. This was his domain, for better or worse, and he expected to be treated with a modicum of respect, even by suddenly sentient plant life. He dipped down into his reserve of magic, ignoring the revulsion he felt as the power surged in him, and threw a hand up to freeze everything around them.
Karen's eyes flew open. The tendrils of comfort she'd unconsciously been pulling to her were suddenly snapped and Frank was standing over her with an expression of mixed irritation and awe. She wiped the tears away from her face, self-consciously patting her hair back into place. She sniffed. "I'm sorry… it just hit me all at once… This can't be real. Pinch me or something. This has to be fucking dream."
He softened, reaching forward to pull her further along. The bones of her wrist were delicate, easily encircled by his long fingers, the heat of her skin licking at him like flames. He swallowed, focusing on the path ahead of them. "Unfortunately you're wide awake, and so am I."
He didn't like using his powers for anything other than the grim task of punishing scumbags on earth. They served as a constant reminder of everything he'd lost, and for what. But the thought of making Karen trudge across the fields of punishment to the entrance of Tartarus for this reason made him feel like a selfish asshole.
He sighed, drawing her closer to him. Karen squeaked in surprise, blushing at the feel of his hands on her waist. "What are you doing?"
The pink heat in her cheeks sent a corresponding dart of warmth through him. He tried and failed to maintain his coolly detached air, involuntarily smirking at her before saying, "Slow dancing, ma'am. Now hold on tight so you don't fall down."
He wrapped his arms around her, not fully trusting her to obey him, and let his powers take over. They surged through him, making old wounds ache. Karen heard a tornado-like rush of wind, her hair flying out in all directions, and suddenly they were weightless, zipping up over the tops of the trees in a burst of speed.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as they traversed what might have been several hundred miles on earth. It was all strangely warped down here though, the dark forest disappearing behind them in a matter of seconds.
As they neared the source of the illumination on the horizon the glowing beams seemed to penetrate Karen's skin, pleasant warmth sizzling down into her bones. She had a fierce longing, heart in her throat as she looked out across an expanse of rippling water, eyes lighting on a cluster of brightly glowing islands. "What is that?"
She whispered the question, fairly sure that Frank wouldn't be able to hear her over the rushing wind. But he felt it too, the painful tug of a paradise he could never know, magnified tenfold by the woman ensconced in his arms. Her need was damn near palpable. Most souls that got this close lost all sense of reality, falling into a pit of hopeless despair when they realized they didn't belong on the islands. He doubled his speed, rocketing west as quickly as he could. Finally he answered her. "The Isles of the Blessed."
He could explain further, but really what was the point? The name was pretty self explanatory and the likelihood that Karen or any other mortal would make it to such a place was astronomical. He hoped she'd absorbed as much of the warmth and light as possible. She was going to need it where they were headed.
It got dark, quickly, and cold too. The black night turning inky and wrapping thickly around the two of them. Neither could see a thing, and Frank navigated by instinct, landing adroitly on an outcropping of jagged rock just at the mouth of what looked like cave.
Karen tried to catch her breath, hands shaking noticeably as she let go of Frank. She pulled away, noting the cold air and how it contrasted greatly with the warmth of Frank's arms around her. She looked toward the mouth of the cave, squinting in the dimness. An icy gust of air blew from its depths accompanied by a foul stench.
Karen wrinkled her nose, instinctively backing away. Immediately, she felt his grip on her arm, pulling her from the cliff's edge. "Watch it."
Grateful that he couldn't see the flush of embarrassment flooding her face, Karen stepped a little closer to him. "Sorry." She felt his grip loosen, and a little thrill of fear shot through her. The feeling of being untethered completely was unsettling.
This place was so desolate. Never in her life had the pulse of nature been so utterly absent, the golden threads connecting her to the world around her all too far away to reach. There had been lonely times in her life, hours spent in her own company, but rarely had she ever felt alone. Instinctively she reached for his hand before he could release her, threading his fingers through hers. The warmth was comforting and she was glad it was too dark to see the undoubtedly annoyed expression on his face. "Do we have to go in there?"
Frank let out a long breath, trying to ignore the distracting way she unconsciously ran her thumb over the back of his scarred knuckles. "No." Turning, he bellowed into the stinking maw. "KRONOS!"
A large man appeared seemingly from nowhere, holding a lantern in one hand and a scythe in the other, voluminous black robes swirling around him. He towered over the two of them, the glow from his light faintly green. It cast flickering shadows over his sad looking face. Karen craned her neck to look up at him, taking in a set of inhumanly broad shoulders and a girth to match. The giant gave Frank a small smile, as if the act was beneath him. "Welcome, friend."
Frank scoffed, unable to hide the disgust in his voice. "Drop the dramatic act, asshole."
Kronos flicked his wrist and the scythe disappeared in a wisp of smoke, the lantern in his opposite hand morphing into the familiar shape of a streetlamp, its greenish hue becoming a soft yellow. The robes had shifted into a tailored suit, a pair of winking cufflinks catching Karen's eye. He wasn't any less intimidating in his new attire.
"You bring me another corrupt soul to torture for the rest of eternity?" Kronos said, turning his cool gaze on Karen. "Hmm, this one definitely has a few dark secrets swimming around in her beautiful head."
Karen shivered, suddenly feeling as though someone were trying to pry her open. She resisted it, feeling anger pool inside of her. There were dark things inside of her, buried deep down long ago, things that she never intended to dig up. She was squeezing Frank's hand in a death grip, her knuckles white as chalk. A lesser man probably would have yelped in pain.
"That's enough, Wilson." Frank said it quietly, briefly glancing at Karen from the corner of his eye.
"No one says my name!" The big man's nostrils flared, the volume of his voice the only betrayal of anger in his otherwise calm demeanor.
The prying sensation immediately stopped, leaving Karen feeling weak. Sheepishly, she untensed her fingers and let go of Frank's abused hand.
"Kronos… Wilson… who gives a shit? Don't matter what your name is, you're still locked in this underground cesspit." Frank shifted. "I need to talk to the three shitbags I dropped in on you earlier."
Suddenly disinterested, Kronos waved his hand. Three men appeared at his feet, crumpled and broken, moaning in pain. Karen gasped, hand flying to her mouth. The men's limbs were all at unnatural angles, jagged bones poking through bruised skin, faces swollen and unrecognizable. It made her sick to her stomach.
Frank didn't flinch, growling at Kronos. "Don't be a dick."
Sighing, Kronos waved his hand again, this time healing the wretches and disappearing altogether. Karen moved closer to Frank, facing down the men who'd been intent on killing her. They snarled in her direction, eyeing Frank warily. "What do you want?"
"Who sent you to kill her?"
The apparent leader of the trio stepped forward, displaying a kind of bravery flaunted only by those who were utterly stupid. "Why should we tell you anything? What's in it for us?"
"Who… sent… you?" If anything, the question was quieter, a deadly yet controlled anger behind it.
Frank usually didn't bother with this type of interrogation. On earth all he had to do was look into their souls and he knew the whole truth, but when he looked inside of these three men, their souls were in pieces, torn apart by something or someone that didn't want him to know the truth. He snarled, "I don't negotiate with murderers."
One of the smaller men pushed past the apparent leader, throwing himself at Frank's feet, snot and tears streaming down his face. "Please, please, don't send me back." He was sniveling, clinging the the bottom of Frank's pant leg.
Karen watched in horror as the man continued to sob, shaking violently as he begged for mercy. Frank kicked him away. He didn't have an ounce of sympathy for the prick. "Stand up."
The command didn't work. If anything, the tearing sobs got louder and the man collapsed on the ground in a hopeless heap. Karen felt pulled apart. This man had been intent on killing her, on ravaging her body and sparing her no indignity, and yet… His suffering was apparent, the things he'd endured already in his short time in the underworld were unimaginable. Her softer side won out. "F-frank…" She cleared her throat, trying again, this time with more confidence. "Frank, uh, I'm not saying you should let him go, but... "
"But what?" he asked sharply.
Undaunted, she continued. "These things… they're tit for tat, right? Why should he answer you if you're just going to throw him back in that torture chamber?"
The man had gone quiet, rocking silently curled up in a ball. The other two men looked on in disgust, the leader stepping forward with renewed confidence, a little swagger in his posture. "Yeah, listen to the spoiled little bitch. We ain't giving you something for nothing."
Karen felt Frank tense beside her. Before she could say anything, the two men were up in the air. Some unseen force flung them back into the entrance of Tartarus, their screams echoing off the cold cave walls. The third man lay whimpering on the ground. Frank reissued his command. "Stand up."
This time he obeyed, afraid to raise his eyes to the God of the Underworld.
"Tell me who sent you and…" He looked at Karen, begrudgingly acknowledging her logic. "... and I won't send you back to Tartarus. You'll go to the fields of punishment like the more run-of-the-mill pieces of shit."
"The f-fields of p-punishment?"
Frank sighed. "Why don't they teach the classics in schools anymore?" He shook his head. "It's like… the fifth circle of hell, okay? Not the best but definitely not the worst."
Trembling in relief, the man started babbling. "We got a call from a guy… He arranges these things. He's a middle man. He keeps his client's identities secret. Calls from a burner, leaves the money at a drop bar, different one each time."
"Which one was it this time?"
"Some hole in the wall called Josie's in Hell's Kitchen."
Frank reached forward and picked the man up by his neck. He could feel when people were lying to him, the deception was in the way they breathed, the beating of their shriveled little hearts. Everything the man said was true. "This information wasn't worth a get out of jail free card. It's your lucky fucking day. Thank the nice lady."
The dangling man let out a choked thank-you, eliciting a satisfied grunt from Frank who let him go. The man disappeared before he hit the ground, leaving Frank and Karen alone on top of the cliff.
"Looks like we're headed back up top. Feel like slow dancing again?"