The Curse of Hades *MATURE*

Chapter 11; a promise that cannot be unmade

*Waves* There's a note at the end of the chapter giving you an explanation. I do recommend rereading the previous chapter so you don't get confused. We pick up right where we left off! The chapter is on the shorter end but it's something, eh?

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The note trembled in Harper's hand, the words going in and out of focus. Dead. She was dead. But how? And why? She swiped at the tear trailing down her cheek, crumpling the note in her fist. The old woman's body lay disjointed on the cobblestone, a circle of blood pooling around her head like a halo, matting the grey locks Harper had taken for granted.

She was the closest thing she had to a grandmother. Now she was gone. Death had been a foreign concept to her, having never really experienced grief for herself and now...now Harper wished she could take back time.

"Make it go away," she whispered hoarsely, stepping back into a warm chest. "Bring her back."

"Harper," Hades voice was a quiet caress in her ears, his touch gentle as he steered her away from the scene. "Look at me."

She met his eyes through her tears. She hated herself for the tremble in her lower lip; so much for being strong and independent.

"It is not a weakness to show emotion," he smoothed a dark tendril of hair behind her ear, "nor is it a weakness to care. I promise you that I will find whoever did this and I will deliver their head on a silver platter to you. On my life."

"We," the word was a whisper but he heard her all the same. The entire courtyard did. "We will find them." Harper straightened her spine before she spoke next, resolve settling deep into her bones until it become a part of her, the anger, the thirst for vengeance. "And when we do, I will be the one that deals the killing blow."

The corner of Hades' mouth switched into a tentative smile. "Your wish is my command, my lady."

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Back at the castle, Harper sat in front of a fireplace within the library. A cup of hot chocolate rested untouched on the side table, and the chair was so close that the flames almost licked at her toes. Harper welcomed the sting of the heat, however. It was better than the cold rage that her mother was so well known for. It was, perhaps, one of the worst qualities she had inherited from her.

"She's nowhere to be found," Cerberus muttered, pacing behind her. Hades leaned against a tall bookshelf, his expression switching from concerned to focused. "How can a spirit be missing in the realm of, well, spirits?" Cerberus threw up his hands at their silence.

"She's frightened," Harper whispered, her voice hoarse, "of whoever killed her. She likely watched her body fall to the cobblestone. Wouldn't you be scared enough to hide?"

"Of course, I would be!" Cerberus snapped, "but that is beside the point. We deal with plenty of frightened spirits but none that has ever escaped my hell-hound nose. It's an insult to my nose superiority."

"The world doesn't revolve around you," Harper scowled, though her spirits lightened at the now-familiar banter.

"I'd wager it does in this instance since I'm the one responsible for looking after it," his eyes narrowed.

Hades sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Will you two stop?"

"I don't see you coming up with any solutions," Cerberus scowled.