It's not easy being the daughter of Hades and having to admit the fact that I'm more accustomed to being among the dead than the living. I mean, it's easier to live in a community full of ghosts, where you know you're not going to hurt anybody.
I sipped a glass of Diet Coke that I had ordered, and relaxed myself on the comfort of the cushioned chair I was sitting on. Being around people scared me. Just a simple touch on the hand from me could kill them. Except for Wallace.
Wallace was sorta my bodyguard. A fire burned down my house with my mother in it sixteen years ago, just a week after I was born. Somehow he sensed my soul and found me in the burnt rubble and raised me when he was only seven. I eventually found out he was half human, half demon, but he wouldn't tell me how or why he found me.
He was sitting across from me at the small Italian restaurant, furrowing his bushy eyebrows, staring at his smart phone with extreme concentration. He rarely talked, and I was grateful for that, being that I am somewhat socially awkward.
Our food arrived a few minutes later, steamy and well prepared, a lingering smell of spices filling the air. I was about to dig in to my Fetuccine, when I noticed Wallace didn't even budge to acknowledge that there was food right in front of him.
"Jesus, get off that thing." I set down my fork and reached out to grab his phone, but he pulled it away just in time. He glared at me with his red eyes, orange specks dancing in them as if challenging me. I growled. Well, I think I did. It probably sounded more like I was choking to him, but it didn't matter. "We're eating. Why do I have to be the responsible one? You're twenty-three, I'm sixteen, and I'm telling you to get off your phone? Isn't it the other way around."
"You don't have a phone, though."
"Smartass." I muttered. Yes, I didn't have a phone. He had said something about it being dangerous and whatnot. I forked down my pasta and gulped down my water in mere frustration, not allowing me to taste the heartiness of the meal. He still hadn't touched his food.
"That's it." I lifted his phone out of his hands without physically touching it. Yes, telekinesis was something else I could do besides killing anything that I touched. But he grabbed it with one simple motion and went right back to doing whatever he was doing on it.
"You little-"
I would've liked to mutter that word at him, but a ghost just started floating across the central fountain in the middle of the plaza. It's shoulders were drooping forward, and it's head to the side as if someone snapped it in half. Ghosts weren't supposed to be out in the daylight. One would get burned if it tried.
"Wallace." I whispered in an intense tone.
He looked up at me. He knew that when I used that tone, there was something terribly wrong.
"Let's go."
Wallace nodded and left a wad of cash on the wooden table where his cooled Italian sandwich sat and my half-eaten dish sat.
It was going to get crazy.