King Of Death (Book 1)

Chapter Twelve

London, England
2:03 p.m.

Hayden Foster strolled outside, his shoulders tight. Emotions whirled through him, making his stomach clench. His heart started beating hard as he remembered what happened moments ago. Dark clouds thundered and a droplet hit his shoulder. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it spike up. Hayden stopped, his jaw clenched. He turned back around, toward a neighborhood a little ways away from his house.

The house was a dark brown, rotting away at the porch and some edges were chipped. There was a metal swing on the porch, swaying in the wind. The house laid deserted as everyone was still missing, either at school or work. Hayden smirked and stepped upon the porch, sitting down on the swing as he waited for the perfect moment.

Not even an hour later, footsteps echoed near him, he stood up and watched Danielle climb the wooden stairs to the front door. Her emerald eyes were downcast, so she didnt see him as she unlocked her door. He cleared his throat, a smirk playing on his lips. Danielle whirled to him, her  auburn hair flaring around her, then settled back around her shoulders in soft waves. Her eyes took him in and her mouth tightened. Her shoulder were stiff and her hands clenched tightly by her side.

"Good day, Danielle." Hayden greeted, his bright blue eyes glowing.

"What do you want?" Her voice was brisk and cold, as if him being here displeased her.

He chuckled and settled back down on the metal swing, the chains creaking and groaning. "Oh, I'm here to visit a long lost friend, is all."

She crossed her arms over her chest, to hide their shaking. Her emerald eyes darkened to a forest green. "No. You want something."

He raised an eyebrow, mocking her. "Me? Oh, no. I dont precisely want something. More to talk to someone."

Danielle scoffed, her lips thinning out. "Why would you want to talk to me?"

Hayden sat up in the swing, it going back a little as he leaned forward. "Well, we were friends once, right?" Then his face darkened. "Right. I almost forgot. We were never friends. You were playing best friend until the plan settled."

Danielle looked away, shame flooding her face. "It wasn't supposed to be like that, Hayden."

His name came from her in a whisper. "Who are you trying to persuade? Me or yourself?" He said, as a slow grin rested on his face. A dark color red flooded her cheeks. "It doesn't matter now. Enzo knew how to celebrate that night's victory."

Danielle whipped her head, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. "What do you mean?"

Hayden wore a cheeky grin, filled with a dark secret. "Since Enzo wouldn't tell you, maybe Eden will."

"What does Eden have to with that night?" Danielle demanded, her voice raising.

Hayden looked up at her through his lashes. "Everything."

With that, Hayden stood up and walked off the porch, his head whirling. He felt Danielle's glare all the way over the hill, disappearing from view. He laughed to himself, wondering how tomorrow at school will go. The weekend will sure be fun as Hayden started making his plans for the rest of the group. As long as they dont fall through themselves.

Hayden made it home before four o'clock, whistling to himself. He felt cold, goosebumps danced upon his skin. He stepped inside his house, waiting for his guest to appear. Death stalked through the kitchen door at a second later, his red eyes excited and filled with mischief. Hayden snorted and shook his head at him.

"What have you done today, my lord?" Hayden asked.

Death tilted his head, the whiteness of his face glowed with the dimness in the room, from the grayness outside. "That's my business, Hayden."

Hayden scowled. "So whatever I do, is your business, but I can't know yours?"

Death shrugged, his eyes hard as rubies. "I'm your lord."

"Right." He drawled, sarcasm dripping from his words. Death's face tightened as if Hayden displeased him.

"You are being very disrespectful." Death remarked, his voice cold and detached.

Hayden glowered at the dead man in front of him. He shrugged it off and slipped into his room, the coldness of Death surrounded him. He sighed and sat at his wooden desk. He ripped out a page of paper, before laying it out in front of him. He started to write a letter.

An angry voice startled him out of his concentration. He growled to himself before pushing himself out of the chair and made his way to the living room where he had left Death.

Death was at the door, his back stiff and his voice terse. "I do not know why you bothered at all."

A voice a lot lighter answered him. "I thought this is where Hayden Foster lived." Hayden sucked in a small breath as he recognized the voice. Death tensed, letting him know he knew where Hayden stood.

"It used to be where he lived before he sold this house to me." The voice Death used was of an older man, gruff and scratchy from years of talking.

Tyler replied something too low for Hayden to catch. Death relaxed a little before answering.

"Well, I cant tell him because I don't know where he is now and I don't talk to him. Find someone else to tell him. I'm not a messenger, boy." His angry voice shook as he closed the door, blocking Tyler's voice. Hayden looked at Death wide eyed, his chest aching. Death caught his look and raised an eyebrow. "It had to be done. You can not have feelings for these kind of assignments."

Hayden swallowed, feeling as if he had drank a whole bottle of broken glass. He nodded and turned to head back upstairs.

"Hayden, you need to start thinking of actually falling through with your plans. You are needed else where for other people like the ones on your list." Death snarled, anger tore through the ancient man. Power rolled through his veins as he stared at the younger boy.

Hayden clenched his teeth together. "I'm working on it!"

Death bared his teeth, his red eyes glowing and burning. "Figure it out faster." He disappeared in a whirl of ash and smoke.