Chapter 5. Liar

"So you purposefully go out with these…" I look over at the women that the offbeat little bag-handler is here with and attempt to come up with an appropriate word to describe them.

I fail, of course. They're all shamelessly sharing parts of their bodies with their dance partners in ways that make even me blush.

I'm kidding.

I don't blush.

It's wasteful. But still, these women...

"People," I finally say. And she nods her head, joyously, as though it's the most magnificent thing she's ever done in her short, pitiful life.

"Not all of them. And only sometimes." She points over the crowd of them, who are now dancing in hive like formation. "I'm really only good friends with one of them, but it's a special occasion and they really needed a driver tonight and I thought, you know, why not?"

It's then that I see a bit more clearly. She doesn't get out much. I believe this is what sets her apart from the rest of the humans I've encountered tonight.

A song begins that is slower than the previous music that's been playing throughout the night and this woman becomes anxious.

"Oh!" She puts her drink of what I now know is water down and grabs my hand. The familiar chill runs down my spine. I nearly flinch away from her, but her grip is surprisingly strong for her size.

"Do you wanna dance?" She grins eagerly at me. "Please say yes, I love this song so much!"

She is so odd.

I have to say, zero plans to dance. I'm not a dancer, I'm a guardian of souls who've passed and torturer of those who try to buck the system. I simply want to drink myself into a haze of fun for a while yet I find myself being pulled along by this miniscule human with absolutely no resistance whatsoever.

Before I know it, we're standing in the middle of these drunken, sweaty people while a song plays that puts me into some sort of a trance. The small, peculiar woman with multiple hand bags that she's left piled up over at the bar gazes bewilderedly up into my eyes.

"You don't smile much, do you?" she asks with a tilt of her head as she slides her hands around my waist.

The chill from before is racing down my back again.

Despite the fact that it should be a warning for me to put some distance between us, my hands silently mimic hers and they settle to rest on her hips. She's soft and warm. A direct contradiction of who, or what I'm used to spending time with. And those eyes. Are they brown? Green? Specs of green? I can't quite tell. It's too dark in here.

Honestly, I hadn't thought much about the number of times I've smiled in this lifetime. It's not as though there's been much need for it. So I don't know how to answer her. And I'm guessing she's not actually looking for a reply, because she rests her head against my chest and leads me in slow, rhythmic swaying that coincides with the song playing over top of us.

What is she?

Who sent her?

And why is she committed to making me so damned uncomfortable?

I think the word but even as it's forming I realize, I'm not. Uncomfortable that is. I should be. This entire interaction with her is not anything I'm normally interested in. Surprisingly, I find this particular interaction, here, with her, quite… calming.

Her sways become more pronounced although still quite slow. I find myself reacting in ways I can't say I remember reacting to anything. Ever.

I feel her heartbeat faintly, against my chest - can almost hear it inside my head. I find it fascinating. The souls who find their way to my realm typically are not breathing, and I've absolutely no reason to settle close enough to any of my siblings to ever hear it. Feeling life against me like this... It reminds me of what I have and have not been exposed to in such a long, damn time.

The urge to both run and stay put at the same time is overwhelming and puzzling, to say the least. My conflicting emotions are causing me to become swept up in the humanistic actions of most of the people here tonight. I rest my chin, softly, on the top of her head as we slow dance in that small space amongst the insignificant beings that are there with us. I close my eyes for a mere second, and the image of a life I never knew flashes inside my imagination. One that doesn't involve darkness and fear. Or incessant boredom. Or keeping track of who did what terrible thing in their lifetime and how long they must be punished for it.

My eyes flutter open again and I pull away from her, just a smidge. Strangely, I find I'm more terrified of this fragile human than I ever have been of my family.

She's looking up at me again. Curiosity looming.

And that chill. That irritating fucking chill.

"I just realized I don't even know your name," she says with a groggy sound to her voice. "I'm Isabella. Friends call me Bella." She sings it slightly. "Or, you know… yo, whichever."

A half smile spreads on her face and she lets out the shortest of laughs.

"Isabella." Her name floats off of my lips and makes me idiotic for a moment. I nearly blurt out who I really am, which is an absolutely terrible idea. Because, let's be honest, we all know how that would go over.

Hello, Isabella, great to meet you. I'm Hades. Ruler of the underworld and deceiver of souls. But hey, don't listen to the rumors… Then an awkward moment of embarrassment. And she runs for the mountains either because she thinks I'm a complete psychopath, or worse, she believes me.

Until this precise moment, I hadn't thought about the consequences of acquiring another persona. Random drunks partying with other random drunks - it's every day here. They forget you once the buzz is gone. But now…

"I'm…"

I don't know how long I let the word hang there before she says, "Nameless?" and giggles.

"Edward," I tell her. "Cullen. I'm Edward Cullen."

Her face changes a bit. A small V forms between her eyebrows and I wonder if I've said it wrong.

"I'm sorry," she screams over the now loud music. "Did you just say, Edward Cullen?"

"That's right." I grin. I force myself to stick to the lie.

"The, Edward Cullen?" She almost looks as though she doesn't believe me.

And, the grin is gone. "Y-yes?"

Shit. Does she know this vampire? I'm suddenly re-thinking his motives. And my motives. And her status.

"Wow," Isabella blinks a few times and pushes away from me. She shoves her way through the sea of people to make her way over to the bar. Quickly, she gathers up the purses she left there. Unattended, I might add. She's lucky they're still there. Or, maybe not.

"What seems to be the issue?" I ask as I follow behind. She's being very rude all of a sudden, and it's not setting right for me.

"I'm a little embarrassed, I guess." She laughs without looking at me again. It's not the laughter she had earlier, though. This one is different. Sharp around the edges.

"Why is that?" I ask her, sincerely wanting to know what I did wrong. I reach out for her but she pulls away, subtly.

"I mean..." She looks around us, as though she's searching for an answer. "I guess I don't understand why you're here. With me. In this…"

"My bar!" I nod and try to smile like he did outside. I'm not sure it's coming off correctly though. Isabella is backing away from this situation entirely, it seems.

"Yes, your bar. One of ten in the metropolitan area."

Ten.I speculate as to why he would need so many but I don't have the time to think it through right now.

"And?"

"I thought you were…" she trails off, attempting to think of a word.

"What?" I urge, wanting to know. He can't be that bad. Can he?

"Well, to be blunt, a recluse."

Okay, not so terrible. I can deal with recluse. Hell, I am the epitome of recluse. "Funny story, I-"

She cuts me off. "With extreme bi-polar disorder and who has a really broad sex life, seeing how you have your way with a different woman every night, practically."

"Um." Wow.

"Sometimes multiple."

"I-"

"In a room you had specially made somewhere in your house that you like to call the dungeon."

What the fuck is wrong with this guy? And by the way, only some of that resembles me. The rest is more my father's style.

"Look-"

"And… you hardly ever go out. You're more of an order off the internet kind of guy, so why now? Why here? Why me?"

She's offended. I see it now. Should this not be a compliment that she's garnered the attention of someone who I would have to assume is very well off and quite good looking, might I add?

In an attempt to come up with a good reason for being here, I lose my ability to speak, and in doing so, I also lose her altogether. She shakes her head in disappointment, and it's worse than when my brother does it. The chill is gone. The curiosity, dissipated. She slips away through the crowd to find her friends, I presume.

And I can't let this go. I can't let her go, for some reason. I search for the large mound of purses she carries with her. When I see them, I also see that she's gathering up her troops and attempting to leave. Not happening. I mean, let's just clear the air here. I could walk away. It's not like there aren't plenty of women just like her out there on the dance floor that I could study and question and maybe even have my way with. But none of them have been quite as… what's the damned word I'm looking for?

"We're out," I hear her tell her friends and they all whine in unison but follow her out of the bar.

"Genuine," I finally say.

And she does it so effortlessly. With one look of curiosity. One tilt of her head. One chill down my spine.

Not in the underworld, not on Olympus. And certainly not in any of the souls I've crossed paths with have I encountered a being who isn't putting on a mask for everyone.

She simply is who she is.

I find that extremely interesting. I haven't experienced interesting in… well, you get it by now. I came here for something different. To get away from the norm. To learn something new.

What could possibly be more new to me than honesty?

I push through the sea of drunken, tired humans and make my way back outside. Isabella is shepherding the women she's with into a newly washed mini van that I truly hope doesn't belong to her.

As I approach, she doesn't notice me. I take a moment to remember who I am, and it is certainly not the person she described inside.

As she begins to slip inside her car, I hold the door before she can shut it.

"Isabella."

"Ohhhhhh, Isabelllllllllllllahhhhh, ooooh la la," some of the drunks in her backseat sing, mocking me. Or her. I'm not sure which.

She rolls her eyes and steps out again in order to keep whatever she's about to say semi-private.

"Look, Edward. Mr. Cullen. I appreciate the attention, I guess." She laughs and tucks some hair away behind her ear. "But I'm not… I mean… I can't..." She takes a breath and regroups, leaning in a bit. "I'm not interested in what you probably had planned for later."

"Edward," I say to her.

"Excuse me?"

Call me Hades.

"Call me Edward."

"I-"

I close the door and step closer.

"And I didn't plan for anything to happen later." I have no plan at all, actually. No rhyme or reason behind my curiosity. Who can control such things? I'm simply winging it here, above ground.

"You-"

"Don't listen to the rumors," I say softly into her ear, repeating part of my earlier, imagined conversation. Only this time, there is no awkward moment. No running away. No horrified response. Although Isabella seems to have stopped breathing at some point.

And I see why Edward licked his lips earlier. I also see that she is most assuredly the interesting patron he claimed to be here for. I admit, in this moment, she is absolutely tantalizing. Ridiculous. But tantalizing, nonetheless.

"I'd like to see you again," I tell her.

She swallows, thinks it over for what feels like forever, and finally looks me in the eyes and tells me, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's not only a good idea, Isabella, it's the best idea I've had in ages."

So. Many. Ages.

When her lips part to respond, I feel a twinge of hope rising.

"It was really nice meeting you, Edward. Thanks for the dance."

She smiles politely.

She slides into her minivan.

She closes the door.

And leaves.

I watch the oversized silver vehicle take her away, and I ponder the strange woman. She seems reserved, yet there's an adventurous being inside dying to break free. A trait I feel I share with her.

"It was nice meeting you as well, Isabella," I say to the night air. The mention of her name brings a familiar chill. I shake it off.

Not a good idea, indeed.

She may have reservations about the vampire's reputation. She has no idea how much better he would seem if he were standing beside the likes of me right now.

Clearly she has no intention of seeing me again. Her reservations serve her well. However, we'll have to see about softening those reservations.

PSA: A little raven told Hades that LayAtHomeMom mentioned him on her story Beneath the Branches. He sends his deepest, darkest thanks from the underworld. Also many thanks for reading this fuckery. Sue beta'd - even whilst on cold meds. She's da bomb diggity. And Chrisann stamped her approval, so, here we are. If you're wondering what Hades danced to, it was Purple Rain by Prince.