138 B.C.

"You will return her at once."

"I will not." Hades replied, his tone easy and cool. He had come to Olympus as a courtesy—because his brother had asked him to—and he was now beginning to think that he'd lucked out getting the Underworld. At least his family wasn't there to annoy him.

"Hades!" Zeus shouted, disturbing the birds perched precariously on the edge of the pavilion. They all leapt into the air at once; their flapping wings and nervous cawing subtracting from the seriousness of the discussion. "Have you no knowledge of what Demeter has done?" Zeus questioned, his voice crackling through the still air.

Hades knew better than anyone how Demeter had followed through on her threat. Following Persephone's departure, the world of the living had seen no joy. Famine raged in every village. A thin, yet-impenetrable layer of ice covered every inch of plain and grassland. Women had taken to vows of abstinence and celibacy, in an effort to spare potential children the pain of starvation. Hades had welcomed a hoard of newly dead into his domain with open arms.

"Demeter's doings are none of my concern." Hades delivered his reply gently, but Zeus didn't miss the note of condescension present in his tone. A split second passed—BOOM—the smell of burnt hair filled the space. Hades rolled on the ground, racked with pain.

"Then make it your concern." Zeus commanded, suddenly icy and remote. When Hades had finally gathered back his strength he thrust out one hand—fingers splayed wide—and watched as his brother froze. Zeus stood, immobile, in the center of the pavilion. His eyes, which maintained their autonomy, bore holes into Hades. Hades stood up, gathered himself, and made his way over to his brother.

"You've made a game out of raping young girls and fathering illegitimate children. Yet our sister stands by you still." He whispered, drawing nearer to his motionless victim. Zeus was obviously trying to break Hades hold on him, and Hades knew that in a moment he would. He place one hand on the back of his younger brother's neck and closed his eyes. He breathed in the fresh air, and then gave Zeus an inkling of the pain that might have awaited him had he been a mortal subject to the judges in the Underworld. Using his mind he sent a surge of utter anguish and sorrow through his hand and into his brother, then watched with pleasure as Zeus' eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Why should you get to spend eternity with your love, and not me?" Hades questioned, the words thrashing his tongue and mouth on the way out. It was an honest question, but Zeus never got the chance to answer it.

"Stop."

Hades had no time to turn before his body was being hurled into a pillar on the opposite end of the pavilion. The resulting crack was loud enough to deafen a mere mortal.

Hera stood proudly above Zeus, her back straight and her face filled with its usual indignancy and malice. Who she was directing it at, Hades was unsure. Zeus lay unconscious at her feet. She stepped over him impolitely, as if he were a bug she didn't wish to kill because he might dirty her shoe. Imbued with all the grace of a Queen, she traversed the pavilion floor over to Hades. When she had reached him she stooped carefully, collecting the fabric of her dress in front of her and sweeping her warm, bronze hair behind one shoulder. Hades regarded her with cold contempt.

"You will bring the girl here in one fortnight, on the eve of the summer solstice. The others will gather as well, and we shall come to a conclusion about the appropriateness of your union." Hera instructed, leaving no notion alive that Hades had the choice to disobey. "If you do not bring her," she warned, moving her poisonous green eyes across Hades face, "I swear on the River Styx to deliver you such torment as you have never witnessed, even in the shallow confines of your dark world." She assured, her gaze empty of love or pity.

Hades looked away from his sister. He was not afraid, for Hera had been delivering him torment since the day their father vomited them all back into existence—but her threat roused something in him. A certain protectiveness that he had never quite felt before. Perhaps he was incapable of being harmed, but what about his love? What lengths would Hera go to hurt him?

Hera watched Hades silently for a moment and then got up. "Go. Before he wakes." She said, gesturing to Zeus, still laid out on the floor. "Tell Perse that Auntie Hera says hello." Her voice suddenly switched into one of vague pleasantry. She made as though to leave and then turned back around.

"And brother—" she said, rousing Hades attention once more, "don't ever speak of my husband or marriage as though you understand the intricacies of a living, beating heart. You have no idea Hades, none at all." For a moment her face sank, all of the assurance present only a moment ago drained away. Then she disappeared—in a puff of purple smoke that smelled just like a freshly cleaned house.

Present

If Bonnie wasn't sure that there was something up with the girl before, she was certain then. She stood motionless before an open girls' bathroom stall—shocked beyond reason. There, in front of her, was Emma, Matt's new girlfriend—poised awkwardly atop the toilet. Except, she wasn't quite a girl. At least not a human one, Bonnie thought.

Emma was perfect—all angles and sharp lines—from the waist up. She looked like she'd been chiseled by a master sculptor; made meticulously from raw marble. But as Bonnie's eyes unconsciously drifted lower a strange sight greeted her. Bonnie blinked hard.

One of Emma's legs was covered in thick, dark curly hair—and not the kind you get from forgetting to shave once or twice. This was full-fledged wool. Her other leg glinted harshly in the florescent bathroom lights, and looked like it had been carved from a block of solid gold.

At first Emma looked surprised, like any girl who'd just been walked in on while taking a piss. Then, when she took in Bonnie's horrified expression she looked down. Bonnie wondered if perhaps this was the first time Emma was seeing this as well. Emma looked back up, her hard features somehow scrunched up in confusion. Then, she began to look angry. Very, very angry.

"Out!" Emma screech, her voice an octave or two higher than humanly possible. Bonnie stumbled backwards, her hands over her ears. "Get OUT!" Emma droned. She stood and Bonnie could see that while her golden leg resembled that of a human being, her furrier appendage bent at an angle too low to pass for human. That explained the limp. Emma pulled up her pants and stormed out of the stall.

Bonnie couldn't bring herself to move. She stood with her back press to the door, but her body would not—or could not—respond to her commands. As much as she wanted to leave her body wouldn't let her. Emma stood in front of the stall Bonnie had busted into only moments ago. Her entire body looked unnatural to Bonnie now. The seemingly beautiful hard angles of her face now appeared sharp enough to cut. Her eyes and hair looked too dark—abnormally dark—for her light skin tone. She looked scary.

"Oh?" Emma said, cocking her head to the side in the same manner as a large bug. "You don't want to go? You want to stay little Bonnie?" She asked in that accent of her, stepping closer and closer with every word. This was not the Emma that Bonnie had had lunch with everyday for the past month. "Well, alright. I had my sights on the boy, but I guess I'll have you instead." She reasoned.

Bonnie's mind took a moment to catch up, and when it did, a jolt of fear ran through her for Matt. And then another surge passed through for herself. Emma's eyes had emptied of all light. She opened her mouth to speak again and Bonnie noted her incredibly sharp teeth for the first time. "Actually, I think I'll have you both." Emma's voice dripped with dreadful mirth. She lunged for Bonnie, hands outstretched and eyes wide. Bonnie was sure, in that moment, that she would die. She didn't however—instead, she fell.

The door had opened up behind her suddenly giving her nothing to support herself with. She tumbled out of the bathroom. The hallway was completely empty save the boy standing above her. Charlie Parker, the not-so-new kid.

Emma had stopped in her tracks. She looked confused again, and so did Bonnie. Charlie didn't make any moves toward Emma. He stood stoically next to the fallen Bonnie, doing nothing. Or appearing to do nothing. However, as Bonnie watched, he seemed to transform in front of her. His transformation was no less frightening to her than Emma, but it brought her a sliver of comfort to see Emma begin to shrink away.

Charlie grew taller—taller than any boy in Mystic Falls High School. His unkempt hair grew long and a sizable beard took its rightful place on his face. His skin, which had been overly tight before, began to sink and sag until he resembled a much older man. Even his clothes changed, his jacket morphing into a long, pale robe. Emma and Bonnie observed his conversion in fear and awe.

And then Charlie spoke, in a voice much too deep for a teenage boy. "Empousai, patronee of Hecate, sister to the Lamiae and the Mormolyceae, you shall not harm this woman."

His word seemed final, even to Bonnie, who had no idea what any of it meant. Emma fumed in the doorway of the bathroom, her hands clenched into tight fists. "By whose decree?" She questioned, looking back and forth between Bonnie and Charlie as though she could figure out the answer to that question herself.

"Hades, the master of your mistress and all the dead." Charlie intoned solemnly.

Emma's anger seemed to drain out of her. She rocked on her feet as though she wanted to take a step back but had too much pride to do so. She looked down at Bonnie, her gaze now curious more than anything else. Then, without another word, she stormed off—being sure to step carefully over the girl still played out on the hallway floor. Bonnie, in spite of all her fear, was lucid enough to notice Emma's fly had been left undone. If she'd had the thought to, she would have smiled.

Bonnie watched Emma until she turned the corner at the end of the hall, and then turned back to Charlie. She did a double take. He'd reverted back to his original form—that of a dirty, sallow teenage boy. He held out his bony hand to her silently. Bonnie took it and helped herself up, but she let go just as soon as she could.

"If you would…?" He asked, gesturing down the hall, opposite from where Emma had gone. He began to move and Bonnie followed him, half of her focus on Charlie's face and the other half on putting one foot in front of the other.

"What was that?" She asked, void of any emotion or feeling. Every time Bonnie closed her eyes she found herself back in the clearing. Blink—there's Amana laid out on the grass, lifeless. Blink—there's a flash of blinding light. Blink—there's Lamia turning into dust and being blown away. Blink—there's the man in black, crouched down beside her, his eyes searching for something in her face.

"That was a very bad woman. She wanted to hurt you." Charlie said simply, directing Bonnie down yet another corridor. Bonnie had enough consciousness to be offended at his patronizing, but not enough to protest.

"What would she have done?" She asked breathily.

Charlie didn't miss a beat. "She would have drained you of your blood and then proceeded to eat your flesh." He explained as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world. Bonnie kept walking, but she felt woozy. Then the rush of fear came back.

"Matt!" She said, remembering suddenly. She turned to Charlie, who was still steering her down hallway after hallway. "She said she was planning on hurting my friend." Bonnie told Charlie, her chest tight. She didn't exactly know why she was allowing Charlie to lead her. She didn't know him well at all. Truthfully, the only times she'd been aware of his presence at school was when she caught his sunken, dead eyes staring at her from across hallways and classrooms.

Charlie kept his gaze forward and his grasp on Bonnie light. "Your friend is under no ordinance of protection to my knowledge, but my assumption is that the empousai will be leaving the school without her meal today." He answered, not quite assuring Bonnie but not quite dismissing her either. He stopped and gestured to a door.

He'd brought Bonnie to her class. "I must go."

Bonnie looked through the narrow window on the door at all of the students inside. How could she go in and pretend that everything was fine? How could she suppress the overwhelming feeling inside of her that things were not going to be okay? She looked at Charlie, more fearfully than she had looked at Emma, and contemplated asking him to stay with her. In the end she didn't, because when she thought about it, he presented just as much of a threat as the empousai did. If snake-ladies and half-metal, half-donkey vampires were roaming around, what was Charlie?

Charlie didn't wait for her to come to a decision. Instead he bowed, just like he had when he'd caught her a few weeks ago, and turned to leave.

"Charlie?" Bonnie called out, suddenly and inexplicably feeling as though it were not appropriate to call him by this name. "Thank you. I appreciate you saving me from being eaten." She said honestly. She felt like she'd been saying a lot of thank you's recently.

Charlie assumed his dutiful air, and for a moment it seemed as though he may salute her. "My honor, your highness." He said. Then he left, leaving Bonnie to decipher his words alone in the wide, empty hallway.

Present

Emma stood next to a large tree, only several meters from the table she'd been eating lunch at everyday with those stinking mortals. She'd been waiting for the right time to make her move on the boy without drawing suspicion to her or the rest of the group. That plan was moot now. Her and the group would need to pack up and move somewhere new. She didn't know why Charon was hanging around, disguised as a human teenager, but she was guessing it wasn't for anything good. Still, she needed to inform her mistress of the day's events.

She hit the redial on her flip phone and pressed the green 'Call' button. She'd only ever used this phone to reach one person. The phone ringed once, then twice, and then another two times. Emma sighed at her mistress' voicemail message began to play.

"Hello." Said a shrill, dry voice. "You've reached Hecate. I can't come to the phone right now because I'm currently in the middle of something, but leave a message if you'd like. If this is Hermes then FUCK OFF!" Her delightful message ended with a long beep.

"Mistress and companion, I bring news. Something is about—" Emma stopped abruptly and lurched forward. She looked down and found the metal tip of what looked to be a dagger spouting from her chest. Her blood drained freely from her body, producing an ever-growing black puddle on the ground. She sucked in what would be her last breath and felt the blade slip out of her chest. She crouched down, her hands sinking into her own blood, and craned her head to look behind her.

There, wiping his dirty blade on a clean piece of cloth was Hades. She had never seen the god so close before, and his beauty was even more terrible than she had dared imagine. Behind him, standing still, was Charon in his true form. He looked like the impossibly old man that he truly was. Emma's vision of the two dimmed and eventually faded into nothingness. She died.

Hades ducked down and picked up her phone, which was half submerged in dark blood. He quickly crushed it in his grasp. He dropped the phone, which was now several disconnected pieces, sheathed his dagger and turned to face Charon.

Charon, breaking his silence, said, "Her group, upon noticing her disappearance, will contact Hecate. She'll come looking for answers. If she sees the girl, she'll know. She'll be in touch with Demeter immediately."

Charon merely voiced the thoughts swirling in Hades own mind. Hades nodded, his thoughts moving quickly to find a solution. When he'd come to his conclusion, he smiled simply.

"It seems I'll be joining you in your studies here Charlie." He said, his gaze moving over to the school building. Hades knew she was inside—he could sense her closeness and it stimulated him. The very idea of being in the same room as her set his blood ablaze. Charon watched his boss warily, thinking of what the coming months would bring.

He'd been alive for a very, very long time. Not as long as the titans, or even the gods of Olympus, but many eons had passed since he'd begun to exist. He knew with certainty that his boss' continued presence in the world of the living would eventually draw the eyes of the other gods. History was, in his opinion, in danger of repeating itself. But he couldn't bring himself to rain on Hades' parade. He'd been a witness to the devastation that racked the god of the dead when he'd been deprived of his love centuries ago. Perhaps this time would be different.

Perhaps.