Blinding Night Read online

  “Do you wish to be with me?” he asked, taking a step closer to her. He wanted her to eat the seeds; to renew their bond. There, in the curve of her smile, he could see Persephone peering back at him. She is my bride.

  “Yes,” she replied. As if she had an understanding of what the small, red seeds meant, she took the collection from his hand. Leora pressed it against her flushed lips. In what seemed like mere minutes, she began to gag. Her blue eyes were no longer relaxed and in awe. Instead, she looked up at him terrified. She parted her lips, gasping for air as a large, thick green vine erupted from her lips. The seed had transformed into a long, choking vine.

  “Leora!” He shouted, grasping her into his arms. Holding the back of her neck, Hades was helpless. He could only watch as the beautiful woman grew still, until there was nothing more than a hollow corpse on his lap.

  After centuries of silence, they had finally been reunited. Out of countless human women, Leora had been Persephone—and now she was gone.

  Chapter 5

  My eyes hurt. It felt like someone had punched me several times in the face. I wanted to move, but my legs were prickly and stiff all the way down to my feet. I vibrated in all the worst places with such an intense pain; I could even feel it in my arms and beneath my fingernails. It was like I had been dipped into a hot vat full of sharp needles. I burned and ached.

  The last I could remember was the car...the darkness… My father’s voice on the phone. Where was I? Where were my parents? I tried to move–but my arms and legs were too heavy to move on their own. Where was my dad? I needed my dad, but the thought of him only made the pain worse. He and mom were gone; dead. The memory of them leaning over the airbags of the car flashed in my mind. It pierced my heart and filled me full of misery. I wanted nothing more than to scream.

  I should have been dead too.

  “Easy,” a voice said softly against my ear. The voice was deep, but warm–like a morning’s cup of coffee. The pain in my chest eased as I slowed my breathing. “That’s it. Breathe…”

  Whoever it was, his voice was nice. It sort of reminded me of Tom Hiddleston. I wondered then if this was my nurse or my doctor. Or maybe I really was dead. Maybe heaven was Tom Hiddleston waking me up from a sedated dream-state.

  If I could just open my eyes, I would be safe and so would my parents. The lights in the room were bright and nearly blinded me as I peeked around the room.

  “Easy,” the voice said again. The lights dimmed suddenly, and the voice asked, “Is that better?”

  “Mmmm…” I murmured. I suppose that was as close to a ‘yes’ as it was gonna get. Slowly, I opened my eyes wider. The face staring back to me didn’t belong to Tom Hiddleston–but he could have given Tom a run for his money in the handsome department.

  “You’re not Tom Hidd-ddle…” But my words drifted to silence. My lips were dry and sore. A faint chuckle came from the man dressed in black. “W-Who are…”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” he said softly and came to stand by my side. “Let’s focus on getting you out of here.”

  “W-What?” Was he serious? Was he suggesting that he wanted to abduct me from the hospital? Didn’t he realize just how injured I was? “I-I… C-Car accident.”

  “I know,” he replied softly. I lifted a hand to my face and carefully rubbed my eyes. There were all sorts of needles and tubes taped to the top of my hand. Slowly, I lowered my hand to my side and looked back to the strange man. His eyes were shaped like two perfect almonds, and the color - jet black. I was almost sure I saw a glimmer of gold as he dashed his gaze away. The man was tall, slim, and strikingly handsome. His hair had a slight wave to it—and I fought the urge to reach up and touch him.

  “W-Who are you?” I asked again softly, hoping for nothing more than a name. He didn’t look like a doctor, and he certainly didn’t strike me as the type of person who visits sick people in the hospital. This guy was all cheekbones and freshly pressed suits. He was suited for the catwalk, not the hospital room of an awkward college girl.

  “You can call me Darce,” the man said with a smirk. “I’ve come to collect you.”

  “Collect me?” What was I, a charity donation now? “For who?”

  But Darce didn’t reply. Instead, he turned just as a nurse came into the room. She looked up at him with an unexpected expression.

  “Sir, visiting hours aren’t until later.”

  “Of course, how silly of me. But I had hoped you’d make an exception.” Almost as soon as he murmured the words, a strange smile crested on her lips and she nodded. The room filled with a strange haze, and my ears began to ring. Just as they had at the beach.

  “Oh, of course.” Almost as quickly as she came into the room, she turned and left. My eyes grew wide as I watched him walk back to my bedside.

  “W-What did you do to her?”

  “I bought us some more time. It won’t last long.”

  “Who are you?” I asked again. Forget names, there was something about him. Something off. . . strange...but familiar. I couldn’t place it.

  “I already told you, Summer. My name is Darce.”

  “How do you know who I am?”

  “I know a great many things. For now, your questions will have to wait.”

  “Where are you going to take me?”

  He began to pull at the needles in my hand; a sharp pinch stung my skin. The machine beside my bed whirred to life and it filled the room just as he began to tug the blankets off of me. It was so cold.

  “What are you doing?” I screeched as he tugged my legs over to the side of the bed. I was surprised to find I felt no pain. As Darce’s fingers skimmed over my skin, the slight blue bruising disappeared. I watched as his fingers worked over my knees, down my calves, all the way to the bottoms of my feet. My scratch. And then his hands were on my arms, skimming all the way up to my neck.

  There was no more pain—I felt absolutely nothing but the dull ache in my heart.

  “Come, get dressed,” he said as he knelt and picked up an assortment of clothes; jean shorts and a dull, dark blue tank top. “We’ll get the rest of your things later.”

  “My things? In my dad’s apartment?”

  But again, Darce didn’t respond. I pushed myself down off of the hospital bed with ease. My body still felt sore – the sort of sore that came after too much exercise the day before. He took a step back and tugged on the curtain around the bed.

  “Get dressed,” he said again, before blocking my view of the room. I stared at the clothing lying on the bed. Something as simple as getting dressed was too complicated. It felt as though I had forgotten how to do such a thoughtless task.

  “Do you need help?” He asked, peering from behind the curtain for a moment.

  “No!” I nearly shouted and began to push the hospital gown off. Sliding the shirt over my head, I hoped this wasn’t a mistake. I didn’t know how he had healed me so quickly, but whoever he was, maybe he knew how to get me back home.

  As I pulled the jean shorts up and over my legs, I mumbled, “Where are you taking me?”

  “Home,” he said quickly.

  “Home as in home-home in America? Or...?”

  “Just get dressed. We’re running out of time.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to sign some paperwork.”

  “It’s already been dealt with,” he replied impatiently.

  I tugged on the curtain and glared at him.

  “What do you mean, ‘it’s already been dealt with?’ W-Who are you...or...what are you?”

  “How many times do I have to answer that? Hmm? Aren’t you paying attention?”

  “All you’ve told me is your name. Nothing more.”

  “Isn’t that enough?” He asked with a raised brow. “Shoes. Get your shoes on.” He pointed to the pair on the bed. “Or do you need me to help you?”

  “You’re about as unhelpful as they come,” I muttered as I sat down and began to push my feet into the pair of sneakers. I caught
a glimpse of my injured foot, but the scratch from the sea was gone – completely. Freaky, too freaky. In fact, it was impossible, and it raised some real questions about my sanity. Was I still sedated? What kind of cocktail did they slip into my tubes? But I didn’t have anyone I could run to for answers. It was just me and Criss Angel’s protege.

  Just as I was about to stand up, he tucked an arm behind my knees and swooped me up with the other in one fluid move.

  “You don’t have to carry me,” I argued, trying to push against his chest – but he was rock solid.

  “Just relax,” he whispered into my hair. “Rest your head and close your eyes. You’re safe.”

  A strange sensation filled me, drawing me to do exactly as he asked. My body was no longer my own. My head rested on his shoulder, and slowly, I closed my eyes. He began to walk—leaving the hospital room behind. I wondered how strange it was for the nurses and doctors to see this random man carrying me out of my hospital room. Regardless of how they might have felt, no one stopped him.

  “We’re almost there, Summer,” he said softly. I kept my eyes shut, oblivious to my surroundings, left only to imagine what a hospital in Greece might actually look like. After what sounded like a waiting room, I felt the warmth of the day’s heat against my bare legs. Birds were chirping, and in the distance, I could make out the lively sounds of car horns.

  “You can open your eyes now,” he said as he gently put me down. My eyes fluttered in the sunlight. It was brighter now than it was in the hospital. I lifted my hands to shield the sun. Darce was five steps ahead of me and opened up the passenger side door of a silver car parked at the curb. He gestured to the dark interior and I frowned.

  “Do you expect me to get into the car?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Do I have a reason to? I don’t even know you. Y-You just took me out of the hospital.”

  “You weren’t arguing when I did it,” he mused with a smile. “I can take you back in there if you want.”

  The idea of being alone in a strange bed, tied to tubes and jabbed with needles didn’t sound at all appealing. But a sort of fear filled me as I glanced at the strange man. Why had he come for me? Why was he here to ‘collect me’?

  “That’s what I thought,” he chuckled. “Come on, then. Get in.”

  “Are you some sort of human trafficker?”

  His expression shifted to irritation. “If I was, do you really think I would have been half as chivalrous as I was?”

  Good point.

  “Well, I’m not just going to get into the car of some stranger,” I retorted. “I’m not an idiot.”

  He crossed his arms and sighed.

  “Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

  “To a hotel for now. Then we’ll collect your things at the apartment.”

  “Did you work with my dad for National Geographic?” I asked, tilting my head curiously. He raised a brow again. I stared at him. I gave him what my dad used to call the ‘stink eye.’ Suddenly, I realized I had seen him before. As I was sitting on the balcony, back at the apartment – eating. He had been the one watching me.

  “Wait!” I gasped, taking a step back. But before I could get far, he grabbed for my hand.

  “Don’t,” he commanded. “Just get in the car. I’ll explain.”

  “Explain now!” I demanded.

  “I can’t,” he hissed and darted a glance around the two of us. Thankfully, everyone around us wasn’t paying any attention.

  “Don’t tell me you’re some…stalker.” My mind raced with different options, one of them being the damsel in my own novel. “I mean, what kind of person just shows up and steals orphaned girls away from hospital rooms?”

  Amusement fueled his entertained expression; the corner of his lips curled into a slight smirk as he shook his head.

  “I’m not a stalker, no.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “You’ve got some spunk in you,” he chuckled. “Different from the rest of them.”

  “Them?” My eyes grew wide. Seriously?

  “You know, the other orphaned girls that I’ve kidnapped.” Was he really trying to joke with me, at a time like this?

  “Look,” he continued, “Get in the car and I’ll take you to your apartment. I’ll explain everything there. I promise.”

  I didn’t want to give in, at least not so easily. But at the same time, what choice did I have?

  “Fine,” I muttered and pushed myself into the seat. “But, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

  Chapter 6

  With a simple wave of his hand, the door of the apartment opened. I wanted to ask him what his secret was to his ‘mystifying’ magic tricks, but it was probably too invasive. Besides the growing list of other more important questions, I knew every magician had their secrets. In his case, his secrets were far too great.

  Inside, the apartment was quiet; deathly still. I wondered how many days I had been in the hospital. How many days had my parents been dead? The reality of my situation struck me like a hot bolt of lightning and my chest swelled like the ocean during a storm. I would never hear my father say ‘Sunny’ again. I would never hear his laughter or share a seat at the table with him anymore. Tears clouded my eyes as I walked towards the small sofa in the living room.

  Darce didn’t say anything. He stood quietly by the door. I could feel him watching me; his eyes bore straight into my back. I wouldn’t cry, not right now, not when I didn’t know the man who had brought me back. So, I sucked back my tears and faced him with newfound confidence. I tried to look as stern and serious as my mom.

  “You had better explain now.”

  With a deep sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest, pulling the suit taut over his shoulders. He looked older when he did that – and by older, I mean ancient. It didn’t show in his face, but rather his dark eyes. How old was he anyway?

  “Once I begin, do you plan to interrupt me with a series of questions? No doubt you have already listed them since we left the hospital.”

  “Oh, yeah… I have questions,” I said, nodding. “But go ahead, explain.”

  “Maybe you’ll want to sit,” he said, lifting his full brow and extended his hand towards the sofa. “It might be better for the both of us.”

  I wrinkled my nose in confusion, but did as he suggested. I took a seat on the far side of the sofa and watched him as he dragged a chair from the kitchen table into the living room. He positioned himself comfortably far enough away that I felt relaxed. Again, he crossed his arms, but a little less defensively this time.

  “Summer,” he began softly. “I–”

  “How old are you?” I asked, mimicking his stature by crossing my arms. “Where are you from? Clearly you’re a tourist, too.”

  He tightened his jaw, biting back a smile.

  “That didn’t take you long,” he said amused.

  “Just answer the question,” I snapped.

  “It’s sort of a complicated answer,” he replied with a shrug. “But for your own peace of mind, we’ll call it twenty-eight.”

  Twenty-eight? Wasn’t he kinda old to be picking up girls at hospitals?

  “My own peace of–”

  “Are you going to let me explain?” He interjected a bit more forcefully than before. I bit my bottom lip and gave a curt nod. Darce leaned forward and pressed his elbows into his knees.

  “In a different time...long, long ago–”

  “Are you seriously about to tell a story?” I asked annoyed. Just as I was about to stand up, Darce threw his hands up, his expression pleading.

  “Listen,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re familiar with Greek Mythology, yes?”

  “What in the world does that have anything to do with this?”

  “Yes or no?” he hissed as his brow rose curiously.

  “Yes,” I snapped and glared. “Yes, Jesus. I am. I had to study mythology in high school. I don’t think anyone is allowed to graduate
without reading The Odyssey.”

  He stared at me closely, narrowing his dark eyes.

  “Then, are you familiar with the story of Persephone and Hades?”

  I exhaled and raised a brow, “Yes. The story about the seasons. She was stolen away and she had to be returned to her mother in the end.”

  “She wasn’t stolen.” He shook his head.

  “Pretty sure I recall something about the God of the Underworld falling madly in love with her, and Persephone’s mother being completely against it. Anyway, he steals her away from home.”

  Darce’s face turned pale.

  “But what does an ancient mythology story have to do with you?”

  “What if I told you the story that you know, the story that had been told over a series of generations, was wrong?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I’d say that’s what happens when a story is super old?” Stories tend to get messed up all the time. It’s like a classic game of telephone. Somewhere along the way, the truth is lost and the story becomes something entirely different. I didn’t understand how this applied to Darce, or my hospital escape though.

  “Wait.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’m so confused. Do you collect people just to correct history or something? Are you some sort of time traveler?” I had seen Doctor Who a few times with my dad. Was time travel suddenly a real thing? I mean, he had healed me after all. Maybe he set the clock back on my body before the crash. Then, as if he could read my mind, I saw the corner of his lips rise in laughter. Apparently not.

  “I suppose you could say I’m a sort of time traveler. I’m a great many things to humans. But...” he hesitated with the weight of his next words, “I suppose you would know me better as the God who stole away the bride of Spring.”

  I blinked. Wait, what? His expression remained neutral, as if he were just speaking casually about the weather.

  “Did...my dad hit you with the car? Is that what this is all about? Are you here to seek some sort of sick revenge?” I felt my stomach knot. “I’m sure we can figure something out in the court system. Greece has a court system, right? Or are you not from Greece?”