Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

Maybe Hades was lonely too, and he brought Persephone to his realm
because he knew she’d bring the light with her.
Somewhere in the distance, a door slams shut, the sound echoing in the
rafters. Voices drift in my direction like a storm cloud, rough and angry as
they draw closer.
Kal curses under his breath. “Elena. Where are you?”
Fatigue rolls over me, slow and steady as it envelops my brain, making it
difficult to focus. The voices drift nearer, growing angrier, and if I could pay
more attention to them, I’d probably be afraid. But my mind feels like a raft
lost at sea, floating slowly among the waves as they carry me away.
“Where did you go?” I ask instead. At least, I think I ask, though it’s hard
to feel my mouth all of a sudden.
“I had to meet someone.”
“A girl?” I can’t hide the bite of jealousy; it slips out like a serpent’s tail,
lashing quickly.
“Yes. But not like that.” A pause, then a sigh. “My sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yes. Sort of. It’s... complicated.” Kal clears his throat, and I wonder
what he’s doing right now. If he’s standing over Vinny’s prone body, a gun
pressed to the back of his skull, waiting to know if I’m safe before exacting
his punishment. “But never mind that, little one. Tell me where you are.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, my words coming slower. The sound behind me
picks up, footsteps pounding against the cement floor, but I still don’t open
my eyes. “Some bus station.”
“Bus station?” Another drawn-out pause, and then Kal curses again,
something shuffling over the line. “I need you to get out of there, right now.”
“Can’t,” I say, that warmth from before traveling through my veins,
making my insides feel like jelly. “Too sleepy.”
“Elena.” I can tell he’s speaking through clenched teeth. “That drug
Vincent gave you was a diluted version of a very powerful street drug, and
it’s probably kicking in right now. I need you to fight it, and get the fuck out
of there and outside where people can see you.”
Laughter floats around me, shadows casting across the bench where I lay;
I see them from behind my eyelids, but I’m too tired to open and see what’s
going on. Maybe the staff’s come back from a lunch break.
“Well, well,” a voice says, with an accent I can’t quite place, “what have
we got here, boys?”