Vampire Affliction (11 page)

Chapter Fourteen: Hades

Gertie looked again at Jeno.
What do we do?

I don’t know.
I guess we tell the truth.
Jeno turned to Hades.
Here goes nothing.
“Yes. We came to take your helm.”

Hecate moved beside Persephone. “So it’s true?”

“Smart.” Persephone lifted her chin. “It’s best not to contradict my husband.”

“We also came to give you this gift.” Gertie took the platter from Jeno and handed it to Persephone. “From Dionysus.”

Bunches of grapes appeared on the platter, which brought a smile to the queen’s face.

“Tell me why you want it.” Hades narrowed his eyes.

Jeno opened his mouth to speak again but shut it.

Say something
, Gertie pleaded.

“Take your time,” Hades said. “Think carefully.”

I can’t rat out my own father,
Jeno said telepathically.

“But not too much time,” Hades warned. “I don’t have all day.”

Nothing good can come from anything I say,
Jeno said in Gertie’s mind.

Hades sighed impatiently.

“Here’s the problem,” Gertie blurted out. “The vampires can’t get humans and gods to respect them. It’s not fair, the way they’re forced to live, mostly in poverty, looked down on by the rest of society. It’s just not fair.”

Hades picked at his beard again. “No one has ever said that life is fair.”

“But it’s the responsibility of humans and gods to try to make it as fair as possible,” Gertie said.

Hades bent over and glared at Gertie, his nose inches from hers. “It’s
not
the responsibility of humans to tell gods what to do.”

“I’m not a human,” she said quickly as the little bit of blood pumping through her veins rushed to her face. “I’m a vampire.”

“So you are,” Hades observed.

Jeno gave her a faint smile.

“A wise person once said that injustice never fixes itself,” Gertie argued. “People have to act.”

“Good point, little vampire,” Hades said. “Good point, indeed.”

Gertie and Jeno exchanged looks of surprise.

“You’ve shocked them, dear,” Persephone said to her husband with a smile.

Gertie smiled, too. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Hades arched a brow.

“I knew you were a just god,” she said. “Different stories depict you differently. Some make you seem evil, like a demon; and others show you as just and fair. I had a feeling, and I was right.”

“Don’t draw conclusions too hastily,” he said. “I’ve decided to help you, but I have some conditions.”

“There’s always a price,” Gertie said. “I’ve read that, too.”

Hades frowned, and Gertie could tell she was annoying him. She clamped her mouth closed and tried to hold back from saying anything else.

“First things first,” he said. “Are you willing to turn over your little demigod friend, who’s currently sneaking around my bed chamber?”

Gertie felt the blood leave her face. “What? Why? What would you do?” Her throat tightened.

“Execute him. Send him to Tartarus until his penalty was paid, especially after what he did to Hydra.”

Gertie swallowed hard. “No. No we aren’t willing to turn him over.”

“And do you agree, Jeno?” Hades asked.

Jeno glanced at Gertie and then nodded. “I agree. He’s our friend. We can’t sacrifice him.”

“Even for my help?” Hades asked.

Jeno nodded.

“You would give up the chance to liberate an entire race of people, just to spare one person’s eternal damnation?”

What a mean trick,
Jeno said telepathically to Gertie.
I can’t believe he’d put us in this position.

We can’t betray Hector,
Gertie replied.

Agreed.
Out loud, Jeno said, “He helped us. We can’t betray him.”

“Hecate, fetch the demigod for me, please,” Hades commanded.

Hecate vanished and returned within seconds with her hands firmly at Hector’s wrists.

“He came here because he had no choice,” Hades said. “He’s here to save his own skin.”

“That’s not true,” Gertie said without thinking.

“You contradict my husband?” Persephone glared at her.

Gertie felt herself trembling all over. This was so much worse than she had imagined. She could think of nothing to do but to drop to her knees and beg for mercy.

“Please don’t kill Hector, Lord Hades,” she pleaded. “We’re sorry. We just needed leverage—something other than human lives.”

“Human lives?” Hades asked.

Gertie told him about Vladimir’s original plan.

“When Dionysus sent us the platter, we thought it meant he wanted us to come and…” Gertie dropped off.

“So it seems,” Hades said.

“But Hector doesn’t deserve to die,” Jeno said. “We won’t make the trade.”

In that moment, Gertie knew she would always love Jeno.

Hades turned his back to them and took several steps across the room, where the Doberman sat beside a weasel. “I wasn’t going to kill your demigod friend.”

“You weren’t?” Gertie studied the god’s face.

“It was a test?” Jeno asked.

“And you passed it,” Persephone pointed out. “Now we know you are loyal.”

“But I still need to be sure you’re worthy,” Hades said, turning to face them again. “So I have a quest for you. There’s something I need. If you can obtain this object for me, I will help you.”

Hector dropped to his knees beside Gertie. “I’ll do whatever you ask. Just name it, my lord.”

Jeno went down on his knees on the other side of Gertie, so that they all three were now kneeling before the king and queen and their friend. “We are you servants.”

Hades’s eyes twinkled, and he picked at his beard. “Well then.” He moved closer to the three and said, “I need you to steal Athena’s shield and bring it to me.”

He has to be joking
, Hector thought, and Gertie agreed. Why would Hades ask such a thing?

Jeno opened his mouth and then shut it again. Gertie read the conflict in his mind. Finally, he said, “Would you mind telling us why you need it?”

“Does it matter?” Hades asked.

“Yes,” Hector said. Then telepathically, he added,
I’m with you, brother. The “why” definitely matters.

Gertie glanced at Hector and then at Jeno, realizing for the first time how alike they were. One might be a vampire and the other a demigod, but they were both noble and brave. No wonder she was in love with them.

Hector cleared his throat and blushed. He had heard her thoughts.

“We came here for the helm to give the vampires a way to negotiate for their freedom,” Hector added. “We always intended to give it back. The ‘why’ matters, Lord Hades.”

“But you just said you were my servants, that you’d do anything,” Hades reminded them.

“They misspoke,” Gertie said. “And we never expected you to ask us to steal something from Athena. We thought you were just.”

“How dare you?” Persephone accused.

Gertie’s face grew bright red.

Hades turned away to pace again. “It’s interesting how many times you have made assumptions, little vampire. First, you assume I’m just. Then you assume I’m not. You base this on little, if any, evidence. Is this how you typically go through life? Making judgments based on assumptions?”

She supposed it
was
true, but she didn’t want to admit it.

“Do any of you know why Medusa’s head is on Athena’s shield?” Hades asked.

“Perseus gave it to her,” Gertie said. “At least, that’s what the stories say. He was sent to slay Medusa by a king who wanted Perseus out of the way.”

“But why give the head to Athena?” Hades asked.

“According to the stories, she’s the one who turned Medusa into a monster,” Gertie answered.

“And why would Athena do such a thing?” Persephone asked before she popped a grape into her mouth.

“Because Medusa had an affair with Poseidon in Athena’s temple,” Gertie said.

“An affair?” Hecate snapped. “Is that what the stories say?”

“Some say
raped
,” Gertie admitted. “But I can’t believe that of Poseidon.”

“Believe it,” Hades said.

“Maybe not raped,” Persephone said. “But certainly seduced. Medusa was young and innocent. Poseidon took advantage of her, and yet
she
was punished for it.”

Gertie didn’t like to accept anything negative about her favorite gods. As a reader, she had chosen to believe the good parts about Poseidon and Athena and the others. She had chosen to ignore the bad parts. In fact, from what she’d read, something similar had happened to Persephone. Hadn’t Hades abducted her?

“We all make mistakes,” Hades said. “But Medusa has paid for hers beyond what she owed. I want to grant her immortality and a place in my kingdom. She may even prove to be a strong ally for the vampires.”

Hector stood up. “What if you petition Athena…”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” Hades interrupted.

But wasn’t Athena a goddess of wisdom and justice? Wasn’t she also an advocate for women? “Why would she be like that?” Gertie asked.

“It’s a mystery,” Hades said. “And if she won’t return Medusa’s head, we have no choice.”

“So we get your help at the price of Athena’s vengeance?” Hector asked. “I’m not sure that’s a good deal.”

“Your vampire friends told you to return with the helm,” Hades said. “What do you suppose will happen to you if you fail?”

Jeno climbed to his feet now, too. “So how do you propose we get Medusa’s head?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t need you,” Hades said. “But if you want to borrow my helm, I need you to figure it out.”

“We obviously can’t get away with invisibility,” said Hector. “Not if you saw me. It must not work on the gods.”

“I didn’t see you. I have wards of protection drawn all over this chamber, and they alerted me to your presence.”

“Athena will have something similar, won’t she?” Gertie asked, climbing to her feet, too.

“We need to draw her out,” Jeno said. “Away from her temple.”

“I’ll leave the details to you,” Hades said. “But I want you to know something. The vampires made a mistake when they made Dionysus their lord.”

Gertie’s eyes widened. That was her
father
. “What do you mean?”

“The god of the vine might be a champion for the underdog when he’s sober, but that isn’t often, now is it?” Hades said.

“You think it should be
you
?” Hector asked.

“Well, they
do
dwell in my caves,” Hades said. “And they are also technically part of the dead.”

“I’m not dead,” Jeno said.

“You are the
living
dead,” Hades said. “And you should belong to my flock.”

“Are you asking the vampires to depose their lord?” Hector asked.

“No,” the god of the Underworld began to pace again. “No, that wouldn’t be good for anybody.”

“Then what are you saying?” Jeno asked.

Hades turned and rushed across the room and pointed an angry finger at Jeno. “I’m saying you children of the night should remember what you are. You are the dead, and you belong to my kingdom. I’m saying you should stop fooling yourselves into thinking you can ever make it up there. You need to come home.”

“But we need human blood,” Jeno said.

“You don’t think I can provide?” Hades challenged.

No one seemed to know what to say.

“Think about it.” Hades turned away. “Now go to Charon for safe passage out of here, and don’t return without Athena’s shield.”

Chapter Fifteen: Charon

Hecate opened the iron door, and Gertie followed Hector and Jeno through. Once it was closed behind them, they stood there, recovering. All three were shaken and not sure what to make of their encounter with the lord of the Underworld.

“Thank you,” Hector said to them. “You saved my life.”

“Hades said it was only a test,” Jeno pointed out. “He wasn’t going to kill you.”

“Maybe,” Hector said. “Or maybe he only said that after you refused.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Jeno said.

“Maybe,” Hector shrugged. “Maybe not. But thank you.”

Jeno smiled and shook his head.

“What’s so funny?” Gertie asked.

“I never thought I’d see the day when a demigod would look me in the eyes and see me for what I really am—as something more than a vampire.”

Hector smiled too. “Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it.”

They all three smiled at what they knew was a joke. Since Hector didn’t know how to block his mind, it was an open book, just as Gertie’s had been as a new vampire. Gertie sucked in her lips and quickly guarded her own thoughts after reading Hector’s:
You’re making it difficult for me to want to kill your father.

The other day, Gertie had insisted to Hector that she didn’t want to be “saved,” but as the reality of her being a vampire
forever
sunk in, she felt overwhelmed by melancholy. She was a vampire, and she needed to get used to it.

Neither Jeno nor Gertie replied to Hector’s joke. Instead, they turned and followed the Phlegethon where it met the River Styx and waited for Charon to appear, as they’d been instructed to do.

Finding a seat on a nearby rock on the bank of the Styx, Gertie wondered how on earth they would ever get to Athena’s shield.

Gertie must have let down her guard, because, as Jeno sat beside her, he replied to her thoughts with, “I wonder, too.”

Hector paced along the bank, reminding her of Hades. “Like you said, we’ll have to lure Athena away from her temple. It’s probably warded.” Then he went up to Gertie and took his scabbard from her waist and fit it to his own. “Thanks for holding onto this. I’m still not wearing any clothes, am I?”

She blushed bright red and shook her head. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. Jeno and I can see right through them.”

“It would matter to me,” he said. “I can’t get used to this.”

Gertie understood how he felt.

“We’ll stop by your place on the way to the acropolis,” Jeno said. “You can get more clothes then.”

“Thanks,” Hector said.

“Now, back to our plan,” Jeno said. “How can we lure Athena from her temple?”

Hector continued to pace. “People are motivated by what they love and by what they hate, right?”

Gertie had never really thought about it, but she supposed Hector was right. “Makes sense.”

“So what does Athena love and hate?” Jeno asked.

“We know she hates vampires,” Hector said. “Sorry, but it’s true, or she wouldn’t have collapsed the caves beneath her temple.”

“Fair enough,” Jeno said.

“And she loves the arts, especially crafting and good music,” Hector added. “She also loves to help damsels in distress.”

“Unless they’re being raped in her temple,” Gertie said.

Hector stopped pacing. “We need another god on our side. Maybe I should ask my father to help.”

Gertie jumped up. “I have an idea! Maybe we could convince Hephaestus to create a shield identical to Athena’s.”

“And then we make a switch!” Hector said.

Gertie smiled and crossed her arms. “Exactly.”

Then she became aware of the chemistry between them and frowned. She didn’t want to hurt Jeno. Had she blocked that thought, or had she left it unguarded?

Jeno was frowning, too, but said. “Good idea.”

Before they could discuss their plan further, they were startled by the sudden appearance of Charon. He stood at the stern of his boat with a long pole in his bony old hands.

“Come on and board, already,” he said in the raspy voice of an old man. “I don’t have all day.”

They stepped in and sat down, and then the grumpy old god pushed off from the bank and moved on.

“It’s amazing to meet you,” Gertie said after sitting in silence for a few moments, adjusting to the enormity of what was actually happening. She’d read so many stories about the ferryman, but the stories were never really about him at all. He was a mysterious character who transported the dead from the world of the living to the Underworld, and that was the extent of his tale. “Exceptional, really,” she gawked, unable to take her eyes off the figure at the back of the boat with his long slender pole and long peasant robes.

“Not so exceptional,” he said. “Every mortal eventually does.”

“But I’m not a mortal…anymore,” she said, and the wave of melancholy washed over her again.

Charon steadied the boat as they turned with the flowing river where it intersected another. “So you’re a vampire, then?”

Gertie nodded.

“
They
are,” Hector clarified. “I’m not. I’m a son of Hephaestus.”

Charon ignored Hector. “When you vampires came into being, I thought, ‘Now here’s my chance.’ But it wasn’t to be.”

“What chance?” Jeno asked.

“Please tell us your story,” Gertie asked. “The books are always so silent on the details of your life.”

“That’s because I never wanted a story of my own,” he said. “And besides, we’re almost to the gate.”

Charon turned the boat onto another river that led to the gigantic black iron gate, and standing just outside was the three-headed dog Gertie knew to be Cerberus. Up through the chasm about a hundred yards beyond the gate, bright light shone down onto the river.

“It’s daytime,” Jeno said.

“We’ll be scorched,” Gertie added. “Oh, please don’t make us go out there yet, Charon. I can’t take another agonizing flight in the sun.”

“I hate the rays of Helios, too,” Charon said. “I suppose if you stay quiet, you can remain on the boat until nightfall, when my sister, Hemera, sleeps, and my mother and father embrace.”

“Thank you,” Jeno said.

“Your mother and father?” Gertie asked. “Your mother is Nyx, the goddess of night, right?”

Charon nodded.

“And your father?”

“Erebus, the foggy, ethereal mists of oblivion.”

“And Hemera?” Gertie asked. “I don’t think I’ve read about her. What is she?”

“Day,” Charon said. “Each morning, she parts my parents’ embrace.”

“How did you get to be the ferryman of the Underworld?” Gertie asked.

“I told you to sit quietly,” Charon said. “No one has ever asked me such questions. And it’s not in my nature to answer them.”

“But I have so many,” Gertie said. “Like why do you look so old, when every other god looks young? And are you married? Have any children? And why are you the ferryman? Did Hades choose you?”

“All your chatter reminds me why I chose to work with the dead,” Charon said.

Ouch. Gertie clamped her mouth shut.

Then to her great surprise, Charon continued, “After my mother gave birth to me, I wandered with my father for many years as part of his ethereal mist, entering into the recesses of every dark corner to spy on the creation of the world. As the earth formed and it was populated with people, my parents asked me what job I would like—everyone had to have a job.

“I didn’t know. There were too many choices back then, as we were among the first beings in existence. And I was told that once I chose, I couldn’t change my mind. I had ten years to decide. I wandered the earth, lonely as a cloud.

“One thing I noticed—I enjoyed both mortals and immortals. I didn’t talk much, but I enjoyed watching others. I was fascinated by their stories. I realized early on that I would rather hear the stories of other people’s lives than live out my own adventures. I was a voyeur, like my parents. I ate up other people’s histories.”

This had been true of Gertie, too, up until recently. Even now she wondered if she would rather be
living
or
reading
the life she was leading now.

“Since I found daylight uncomfortable, the Underworld seemed like a logical place for me. As the ferryman for the dead, I would have privy to every human ever made, and I could absorb their stories as my own, since they were moving onto the River of Forgetfulness, anyway, and would no longer remember them.

“But as the years wore on, and the tragedies of their lives were revealed to me again and again, I realized the true burden I had undertaken. You want to know why I appear old? It’s because I have been worn down by the stories of every mortal to board this vessel. If I could ever break away, I might look and feel young again.”

Gertie felt her eyes stretch wide. She was surprised, first, that the god had said so much, and second, that he shared his dream of breaking away. “Could that ever happen?”

“Aye, if I could find another to take my place,” he said.

But who would do that?

“When the vampires first came into being,” he continued, “I thought I saw my chance. I thought the living dead would populate the realm of Hades and share in the burden of caring for the dead. I imagined vampires meeting the dying, draining their bodies of blood, and then bringing their souls to their judgment and final destination. I could become more of an overseer, with the time to have a life of my own, to unburden myself of the stories of others and begin my own tale. But, as you know, that didn’t come to be.”

At that moment, they neared the iron gates, which opened. All three heads of the dog growled at them as they passed. Gertie trembled at the prospect of meeting the sunlight up ahead, but before they reached it, a flurry of another kind of light descended onto the boat. Gertie blinked and in a moment was able to recognize the god she had seen during her first visit to the Underworld. It was Thanatos, the god of death, and with him were three transparent souls.

“Charon?” the boy god asked—he looked no older than Hector.

“Vampires,” the ferryman said as he swung his skiff back toward the gate.

Gertie felt funny, like she was losing all her strength.

“
They
are.” Hector pointed to Gertie and Jeno. “I’m a son of Hephaestus.”

As soon as he had spoken, Hector fainted.

“Hector?” Gertie found it hard to breathe.

“You can’t be here,” the boy god said. “You need to go back to the Upperworld.”

“But the sunlight hurts us,” Gertie said.

“That’s better than what will happen if you remain in this boat,” the god of death said.

“Let’s go,” Jeno said. “Before we get too weak to fly.”

Jeno and Gertie each grabbed one of Hector’s arms, and together they hurled themselves into the daylight and into the nearest shelter they could find. It was a barn full of pigs and cows, and they had landed in a loft in a bed of hay.

They startled a small boy who was milking a cow below. Without seeing what had made the noise, he jumped from his stool and scurried away.