Bows and Eros

H&H Chapter 5: The Half Blood and the Kiss

            I went down to get my assignment from Jericho, my hands still shaking from my encounter with Hades. I couldn’t think straight, and I didn’t want to remember what had happened. So I pushed all of my emotions, about Gabe’s confession and other issues, away and shut it all off. I forgot the way Hades eyes raked me over like he was buying a piece of meat and became numb. I had to forget. I didn’t smile or cry, I just let it all disappear. It was becoming increasingly easy to become a lifeless zombie the longer I was in the underworld; and what scared me more was how little it bothered me that I began to care about nothing. I approached Jericho and he eyed me, looking concerned for some reason.

“Hey Macy,” he said cautiously. “How are you doing? I heard Hades arranged a visit to Gabe…Are you alright?”

“You don’t care,” I said, alarming even me with the coldness in my voice.

“Macy I am sorry,” he said. “I’ve known Helena for centuries. I never imagine that she’d broke the reaper code. I know you hate this job, but I actually take it seriously. If I’d known what you’d gone through, I would have been nicer.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” I said. “I guess I will take friends where I can get them.”

“Here’s you assignment,” Jericho said. “Have fun in New York!”

“Great,” I said. “I always wanted to watch someone die in the big apple.”

            Jericho smiled, but my mind was elsewhere. I had an itching feeling all over my skin. And when I let my mind go quiet, I could hear Hades words. Tonight, you’ll be mine. I’d envision my first time in a myriad of ways. With a guy I loved, on my wedding night, maybe in the backseat of a car after sneaking out. Even after I died, I still imagine it being special. Trading my virginity for the freedom of my true love was a small price to pay, but it was still frustrating. I could barely look Hades in the eyes, let alone picture him doing things to my body. I didn’t even know how sex worked anyways. My life was complicated, to say the least. Forgetting these thoughts, I turned my reaper ring and I was in Central Park. There was probably a hundred souls milling about, but I could sense who it was. An older man sat by the trail, sitting on a bench. He looked to be about ninety, and if I had to guess, he was my bet for the soul about to pass on. We were watching people walk around, and I took a deep breath. Yes, death was tragic and sad, but I could sense this man was ready. He’d lived a long life, obviously, and he seemed like he was in deep thought.

“I can sense you, you know,” He said aloud. I looked around, trying to find another person nearby. What in the world? Surely, he couldn’t sense me. He was alive, heart pulsing furiously. Probably about to give way any moment, but still, I was invisible.

“You’re young for a reaper,” he said. “You’ve never met a sensitive before.”

“How did you know that?” I said aloud.

“Well, it’s complicated,” He said. “The shortened version is that there are a few of us here on earth, the descendants of half-bloods, who have special abilities.”

“What is a half blood,” I said, finding this conversation oddly intriguing.

“Once upon a time the Gods, like your friend Eros, used to walk among us mortals. When they had children, they bore half-bloods.”

“Like the Percy Jackson movies?”