“Tres?” he said to his roommate. Hearing no response, he looked over at his friend and found him entranced in WOW—again. “Tres!?” “Huh?” Tres looked over. “Whatcha think?” James asked nervously. “Eh . . . good enough,” Tres said, and quickly turned back to his computer. James breathed deeply and let the exhale out slowly, as if his lips were the release valve of an air pump. He shook his head, wondering why he was so nervous. “It’s the first date, that’s why,” he mumbled under his breath. The last week had flown by and now Saturday night was here—his first date with Jennifer. Normally, when James was looking forward to something, time slowed down so much that it seemed the hands on a clock stood still. But this week had disappeared in a blink. A comfortable routine had probably helped with that. It seemed so easy and normal. Every day he would eat breakfast and lunch with Tres, Eliza, and Svet. Dinner was reserved for Jennifer and her friends. In between class
The library was the place of choice to avoid being cooped up in the dorm room all day. He and Tres had made their way down a few hours after breakfast to grab a table and get to work on what little homework remained. A pattern was starting to emerge. James had finished all of his assigned work yesterday—all, that is, except for Algebra. He hated the subject, so he found himself putting it off until last. James knew he shouldn’t, but he procrastinated anyway. He felt like he had been running in circles with it for the last hour. Without Tres, he recognized, he would never complete any of it. Almost done. Then I can enjoy the rest of the day. He sighed and looked around. Tres was humming merrily away across from him and fooling around on one of his tablets. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Tres had already finished his homework. He was home free. Meanwhile, Eliza, who had joined them shortly after arrival, was working hard on a rewrite of a submitted essay for Engli
Ms. Allie had been talking all period, but James was hardly paying attention. The past two days, the students had all been talking about the power outage, even though there hadn’t been a storm. But thoughts of betrayals and seductions had been plaguing James’s mind nonstop. He thought he was comfortable with his decision, but for some reason there was this strange and consistent tugging in the back of his mind like his subconscious was doing its best to tell him something. James couldn’t quite pin it down. He glanced at his friend next to him. Of course Tres would be mesmerized by the young and beautiful woman; he looked like he was in dreamland whenever he saw her. Hard to believe Tres could ever get any work done in this class. Eliza hadn’t talked to him very much since Sunday morning, and he didn’t like that at all. He enjoyed their battles of words and wits, and without them, he felt empty. Even Svet had been more subdued recently, as if her best friend’s emotions h
“James? You okay? You seem a little out of it,” Jennifer said. He barely registered her words. The usual group was sitting together at dinner and conversation was lively and intriguing, but his mind was simply elsewhere. James kept thinking about prophecies and creatures from the Underworld attempting to destroy everything. Why couldn’t we all just get along? He had decided to go through with all of this training business, but he still couldn’t bring himself to believe that the fate of the known world actually rested on him. I mean, if it does finally click, I’ll probably suffer a mental breakdown. That wasn’t exactly something one person should ever have to shoulder.Seeing as a lot of time would be spent training, he wondered what effect it’d have on his social life. Jennifer probably wouldn’t like it very much. She was used to being able to be with him for a couple of hours every day after dinner. Training time with Blakeney would certainly cut that off—at least a fe
The next day James’s arm was so sore, he could barely write. James usually liked to write up all of his notes instead of typing them into his iPad, but today that proved impossible. Dr. Thomas was discussing some of the missions and preparations leading up to D-Day, and he didn’t want to miss anything. Of course, some of the missions being discussed are only found in special textbooks available to descendants of demigods. Many of them were infiltrated behind enemy lines and helped to disrupt the Axis war machine. As his typing skills were not up to par, a downloaded recording application did the trick, and he taped everything for post-class review. Dr. Thomas was talking about possibly showing Saving Private Ryan—with a commentary of which characters were based on actual soldiers that were demigods—after they finished studying D-Day in order to get a better visualization of it all. It was one of James’s favorite movies, so it suited him just fine. The class bell rang, putting an end t
The low light flickered in the temple-like structure as cold, damp whispers of air filled the cave. With only a single entrance into the massive underground cavern, fresh air was a luxury, but the dark-haired young man enjoyed the dank atmosphere. It reminded him of death. He was tall, lanky, with a sharp-featured face and intense gray eyes that struck fear into whomever looked into them. Nicholas Clurife had always had the ability to manipulate and control those whom he considered weak, especially the pathetic excuse for a human he was facing now. “What have you learned?” asked Clurife in a soft baritone voice. “W-well, I’ve been watching Mr. Blakeney for an-anything different or unusual like you asked . . . and I think I may have something,” he replied, then swallowed hard. “Yes, continue.” “A couple weeks ago h-he left early on a Friday, and when he came back Sunday night, he had with him…a-another student. I’ve never seen him go and actually bring back a student l
Saturday night. The week had flown by so fast that James barely had the time to catch up. Scratch that. The past three days as a whole flew by, but the days themselves seemed to move as slow as molasses. He knew why: Eliza still wasn’t speaking to him. He didn’t blame her, though. What he had done was wrong. James had deliberately chosen a very painful topic for her and used it like a whip to make lashes across her heart. Despicable. He would be patient, and when she was ready for him to apologize, he would. It was a weird feeling for James to long for a friendship so desperately. Not a normal thing for him. His friendship with Tres made the entire situation awkward as well. That next day Tres had sat with him for breakfast, but James could tell his friend was only doing him a favor. Eliza and Svet were who he was closest to. He knew it wasn’t fair to Tres, so James told him that he’d be fine sitting by himself. And that’s exactly what he had been doing since.
The past few days had been among the worst of James’s life. Eliza still was not speaking to him, which had gouged a bit of a rift between their normal group of four. His other group of so-called friends was overtly avoiding him. Rachel refused to speak to him, but she could always spare a pointed glare or two for him when he happened to catch her eye. Since Saturday night, Jennifer hadn’t spoken to him either, not even in any of the classes they shared, which suited him just fine, as he really didn’t have much to say to her anyway. But the problem with that group was Ricky. His friend was probably only ignoring him because of Ceres, since she was close friends with Jennifer and Rachel. However, with tryouts in less than an hour, he and Ricky would have to figure out something if they were to be teammates. James shook himself to the present and checked his lacrosse bag for the tenth time. The gloves, cleats, and crosse that Blakeney had ordered for him were all ready, as were a couple
“Boom, boom, boom,” the bass blasted from the speakers drawing everybody in the room into a rhythmic trance. As the beat pulsed and vibrated through his bones like the strikes of a war drum, his turquoise-blue eyes raked the dance club hoping against hope to spot a new object of desire. Seeing a possibility, the young man put a hand up to ruffle his sandy blonde hair, swallowed back his nerves, took a deep breath, and made his way through the throng knowing that tonight was going to be a productive night. He saddled up to the bar and turned to his left. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked the raven-haired beauty. She was resting against the polished metal countertop in a suggestive way: all hips and attitude; she wore a skin-tight black dress that came down to her knees and left little to the imagination. A slight smile broke across her face as her eyes took him in, but then slowly, sarcastic indulgence washed out all else from her expression. “Maybe next time, sweetheart,” she
The setting sun created a beautiful mosaic of reds, oranges, yellows, and violets as James stared across the waterfront. As the light played across the water as if flames were dancing on the current, he thought about all that had changed in the past few months. He had set out on just another fork in life, or so he thought, but now he had discovered more about himself than he had ever known. He’d also gained more of a family than he had ever had before. His heart had grown as if by magic, and he cared for more people than he ever thought possible. James breathed a heavy sigh. That train of thought brought the tearful goodbye with Eliza this morning to the forefront of his mind. She had been through more than any one person should ever have to go through, kidnapped, tortured, and in fear for her life. He tried to be helpful and sympathize with her, but in truth he knew he couldn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what she had been through. He just didn’t have any experiences to com
The dog, if you could even call it that, was enormous. Cerberos had a wide and stout body like that of a pit bull’s, except this body stood at least ten feet tall. The three, fear-invoking heads, rose a few feet higher. Its skin was completely hairless, the dark, leather-like material stretched taut over sinew, muscle, and bone. Teeth as long and sharp as daggers emerged as each of the heads pulled back its ugly black lips in a show of hatred. Each head reminded James of a decomposing Doberman; ears flat back in agitation, black pits for eyes. The middle head barked a low bass-filled roar. He could feel the rumble in the pit of his stomach. Eliza was trembling uncontrollably in his arms. No doubt a hint of the hallucinogen still lingered in her veins. “Don’t look,” he murmured. She complied and buried her face into his shoulder. “My god . . .” Blakeney whispered fearfully, more to himself than anyone. “Cerberos. But . . . it can’t be.” He was beside himself. “We . . .” He swallowed
The building where Eliza was being held turned out to be some kind of old factory or manufacturing plant from the early 20th century, only it looked more like a stone castle than a factory. The drive had taken almost two hours in a general northern heading, into the heart of rural Pennsylvania. The place was huge, and the only vestiges of a plan that they’d developed was for Oliver to take the search on the upper floor, Blakeney going through the main and largest level, while James would take the basement. Infrared imagery from a passing satellite had revealed only two human-sized heat signatures—and some kind of large heat blob, likely a heating source for the building—but when dealing with Hades, anything was possible. No kind of advantage could be seen as they made their way to the outskirts of the property. The Academy’s Mercedes was parked a half-mile back. Blakeney held up a corner of the dilapidated security fence. “Go on through, you two,” he whispered, following right after.
The sun had reached its zenith and was now arcing towards the western sky on the first leg of its descent. James had barely moved for hours, just sat in the chair, staring emptily at his phone that lay on the bed. Several additional text messages had gone completely unanswered. Nothing. No response. And it wasn’t as if he would be seeing her on Monday. School was now over for the summer. His stomach rumbled, clearly in need of food, but he seemed to be a man completely immobilized. What few scraps of food he had eaten this morning had been forced upon him by Tres, Svet, and Adonis. They had all even tried to get him to come down to the pool with everyone else who had stayed at the hotel, but he had flat-out refused. He didn’t deserve any kind of enjoyment or distractions—at least not in his own eyes. So there he had sat for hours, patiently awaiting that one message from Eliza, that one lifeline thrown that could get him moving again. James closed his eyes and sighed, bringing
“Have you seen Eliza Masters?” James asked a random passerby fretfully, probably for the hundredth time. The girl shrugged and walked on. Seeing a friendly face, he ran over, desperate. “Ricky, you seen Eliza?” The dark-skinned boy bit his lip. “Um . . . not that I—“ Ricky’s eyes flashed in remembrance. “Oh, wait. I did see her heading to the valet parking lot. Does that help?” “Yeah, thanks,” James declared anxiously as he jogged out the door. He sprinted up and down each row of the car-filled lot, the heels of his dress shoes clacking loudly on the pavement. But it was all to no avail. The Fiat was nowhere to be found. I really screwed up this time. James pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to her. In only seconds there was a reply. It read: Leave me alone. He clenched his jaw and cursed himself as he sent another text. This time, there was no further response. His heart felt as if an Olympic strongman was crushing the life out of him with their bare hands. Once agai
“Hey!” said Eliza cheerfully the next morning at breakfast. “Hey.” He gave her a short kiss on the lips. Her searching eyes studied him. “You okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied. “Why?” “You just . . .” She hesitated. “…seem a little put off.” He shrugged. “Probably just nerves cause of finals.” Eliza nodded, still not fully convinced. “Speaking of which,” continued James, “Director Blakeney gave me the rest of the week off to study.” “Well, that was nice of him. I know I could use the help.” Apparently, she had decided to let the earlier topic go. “Consider me at your disposal then, your royal hotness.” She rolled her eyes and directed herself at Adonis. “So who are you taking to the dance, Adonis?” “Um . . .” he started, “I didn’t really have any takers.” “Are you kidding me? I could probably name at least twenty girls that would die to go with you,” Eliza pointed out. Tres began to mumble something that sounded like, “But none of them is James,” until Svetlana kicked his
The weeks went by like a flash of lightning and before James knew it, the last week of May had arrived, the last week before summer break. At Mount Olympus Academy, instead of a prom for juniors and seniors only, they held one for all the students on the Saturday after the last day of class. Kind of a last gathering before everyone went their respective ways for the summer. Of course, he and Eliza would be going together, and since Tres couldn’t date a computer—no matter how adamant he remained that he could—Svetlana would be his date for the evening. It was a formal dance, and in keeping with such occasions, he and Tres had rented tuxedos from a local formalwear shop. Eliza had flat out refused to tell him the color of her dress, so James just picked a vest color that would flatter her eyes—an iridescent gold with sparse green accents. He was, he admitted, incredibly excited to go to his first formal dance. And, being able to add to the many lists of first-time events he had with El
Hades. Just the name had been bouncing around the insides of his skull all day. He had barely been able to concentrate on any schoolwork. How was he, James, supposed to stand up against a force such as that, a god with immense power and creatures at his disposal? The answers would not formulate in his mind and James felt incredibly vulnerable. Even his dreams weren’t safe. He fiddled with the straps of his shoulder pads for what felt like the tenth time as Dieter Hoche spewed on and on about winning tonight in the German’s attempt at an inspirational speech. It was more like a drill sergeant’s yelling, though. Tonight, they were at St. Stephens/St Agnes. Both of the teams were 8-0 and as such, this game would likely be the deciding factor for who would take home the conference title. He checked his gear once more, doing his best to ready his mind for the game. His ribs sure weren’t ready, though. Even taped up as tight and thick as possible, they would still be screaming in pain eve