Hades-Sent

By Sabrina McClure

Aria Matthews is a typical high school senior with big dreams and aspirations of attending college until her life is turned upside down. She is thrown into a new, exciting, and terrifying world of demons, angels, and witches. Aria is forced to embrace her true identity and begin a new chapter in her life. Fortunately, she has Damian, a devilishly handsome demon, to help her uncover her potential and to protect her from the lurking dangers. When Damian and Aria are thrown together neither can deny their growing attraction for each other. How will Aria handle this new life and how does Damian fit into it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sabrina McClure
• Release date: Jun 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310340949

Sabrina McClure

Sabrina McClure lives in West Virginia with her husband, Matt, and together they have a cat named Mittens. Sabrina works full-time and spends free time researching, brainstorming, writing, and connecting with readers and other authors.When not writing, Sabrina enjoys other creative hobbies, such as: scrapbooking, card making, cooking, baking, and photography, and is also, an avid reader. She is a Christian, a coffee lover, and a chocolate addict. She loves making people laugh and loves laughing and is blessed with an amazing group of friends and family.The McClure's love watching movies together, spending time outdoors, attending concerts, cheering for the WVU mountaineers, reading and spending time with family and friends in their beautiful home state.

Book preview

Hades-Sent

An Aria Matthews Novel

By Sabrina McClure

Text copyright © 2014 Sabrina McClure

All Rights Reserved

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Editing by Kelly Hartigan (XterraWeb)

editing.xterraweb.com

Artwork by JC Clarke (The Graphics Shed)

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-one

A note from the author

One

I hurried out of my bedroom, dashing past the kitchen toward the front door. I had scheduled a meeting with the school guidance counselor about changing classes. I was stuck in gym class fourth period, and I wasn’t fond of being hot and sweaty after school from running around in a stinky, stuffy gymnasium for an hour. I always have something to do right after class, and I never have time to shower first. I hated gym class anyway. I’d never understood how gym constituted as a class.

Good Morning, Mom! Gotta run! I hollered as I darted past the kitchen.

Aria Matthews!? Mom called after me. I made breakfast!

I instantly felt tears spring up behind my eyes just thinking about how I was going to miss her. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and blinked away my tears. I was going to miss her, and I hated the thought of her being here on her own. My dad had never been in the picture, and my mom was an only child. My grandparents died before I was even born, and she said she was never close to them. We had always been on our own, but I hadn’t minded. We had always been there for each other, and we had had a good life. Smiling at the exasperation and concern in her tone, I turned around and walked into the kitchen.

Thanks, Mom, I love you. I kissed her sweetly on the cheek and grabbed a chocolate chip muffin as she poured me a glass of milk. I stuffed a mouthful of muffin in my mouth and chased it down with the milk.

A little over a month into my senior year of high school, I found myself swamped and more than overwhelmed. Between homework, journalism club, the school paper, photography class, and preparing my college applications, I have been going full speed. Not to mention, I work part time at Kennedy Cocoa & Dough, a café and bakery my mom opened up when I was in middle school. But this was my last year at home with my mom before heading off to college and my last year living in Massachusetts all year round.

Are you going to the café today? ‘Cause if you are, can you fill in for me? I’m going to be late because I forgot my photography class was cancelled last week and they are having two this week to make up the one we missed, I explained before she had a chance to interrupt and lecture me.

Aria, you can’t skip out on work like that! I count on you to be there. And right on cue.

I know, Mom, I said through gritted teeth. You can count on me. I will be, like, twenty minutes late at the most. I walked over and placed my empty glass in the sink trying to ignore the groaning and sighing I heard coming from my mom. I grabbed my backpack off the floor where I had set it earlier and slipped my arms through the straps.

I just wish you would have informed me sooner. I could have asked Amanda or Bianca to cover your shift.

I turned to her and gave her the most apologetic smile I could muster. I’m sorry, Mom. It just slipped my mind until this morning. Can you cover for me?

She laughed and pulled me into her arms giving me a quick hug. Sure, I will cover for you. I’m so proud of how hard you work in school. You are so smart and I know one day you will be some hotshot journalist.

I felt my cheeks redden a little at her words. She had always been my biggest supporter and had had so much confidence in me. More than I had in myself most days. I snatched another scrumptious, homemade muffin off the plate as I headed out of the kitchen. See you this evening.

###

I was too late to make my meeting with the counselor. I would be lucky to make it to my first class on time. I got to my locker just as the tardy bell called its shrill warning. It’s a good thing Mr. Bradshaw is my first period teacher and I’m his best student, I muttered to myself. I threw my backpack in my locker and dug out my English Literature textbook. I slammed the locker door shut and scurried down the hall. The classroom door was already shut. I quietly opened the door and murmured, Sorry I’m late, Mr. Bradshaw. I quietly closed the door behind me and walked to my assigned seat.

No problem, Aria, we just got started, he said with a smile.

I smiled back and took my seat. Mr. Bradshaw also was head of the journalism club and the school newspaper, The Kennedy Chronicle. My best friend, Bianca, who was currently staring at me curiously—like she’s never been late—was also on the school paper with me. Bianca moved here from the Boston area during the middle of my first grade year. On her first day of school, she shared her animal crackers with me, and we haven’t been separated since. Nothing like food to win me over.

Why were you late? Bianca questioned, walking over to my desk after class was over.

No reason, I said. Just running behind, and my mom insisted I eat breakfast before I left the house.

Well, if my mom cooked anything like yours did, I would never miss a meal, Bianca said, giggling.

I nudged her in the arm and laughed along as we headed down the hall for our next class. I started down one hall toward my ethics class as Bianca went down another to her art class. Bianca had always been very creative and unique. She loved to draw and write. We had the writing in common, but I couldn’t draw anything more than a stick figure. Even that was a little iffy. She was a little more edgy than I was. We didn’t really like the same music, usually not the same movies, and never the same guy. But no one understood me like she did, and I could always trust her. We had the same quirky sense of humor, which sometimes earned us some odd looks from others. Not that we really minded. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

###

I met Bianca in the parking lot so we could head to our photography class. I caught a ride with Bianca since she drove her car to school. I usually walked to school since I lived about a fourth of a mile from the campus. A photographer and his wife instructed our photography class, which was held in their studio in downtown Kennedy, about a block from my mom’s café. On the way to class, Bianca tortured me with music from some band I had never heard of with lyrics I couldn’t decipher. She seemed to enjoy doing that. Other than the music blaring, the ride was quiet.

We arrived just on time, and the usual class of fifteen was more like six tonight. I spotted Jasper, Bianca’s latest fling, sitting at the back of the room.

Oh, there is Jasper! I’m going to go sit with him. You don’t mind do you? she asked while practically begging me with her eyes.

Sure, go ahead. I’m going to sit at the front anyway, I assured her.

She squeezed my arm and smiled. Thanks you’re the best.

I pointed at her. Yes, I am! Now don’t forget it!

She rolled her eyes and trotted off toward Jasper. As she approached, he got up and pulled her into his tattooed arms. They practically started making out right there in front of everyone. Shaking my head and sighing to myself, I took my seat. Sometimes I wished I was as carefree as Bianca, but I was just not made that way I guess.

###

A little over an hour later, I made it to the café for my shift and only twenty minutes late as I had predicted. I enjoyed the walk from the photography studio to the café. A cool breeze blew through the historic downtown streets, and the colorful leaves fell from their homes in the trees and danced in the air. The street lamps were adorned with fall decorations, reminding me that the autumn weather and traditions I loved about Massachusetts were just around the corner. The breeze carried in the air the sweet smell of spiced pumpkin pies, fresh baked breads, espresso, and chocolate from the café. As I got closer, I noticed there wasn’t an empty seat in the bakery’s outdoor seating area. It seemed everyone was enjoying the weather and the baked goodies. I couldn’t help but be in a good mood. This time of year always made me feel exhilarated. I smiled and greeted the patrons before making my way inside.

My mom was glad to see me since they were busier than usual. I punched in and slipped on an apron with the café’s logo and name displayed on the front. The evening went by quickly, and soon we were closing up for the night. I wiped down the tables and chairs and swept and mopped the floors while my mom counted the money and closed down the register. I suddenly felt so exhausted. I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall above the fancy coffee and cappuccino machines. Ten-thirty? I had put my time in today. Thankfully, we had finished closing down for the night and were about to head home. I was ready for a nice hot bath and my bed. I needed to set my alarm clock to wake me up a little earlier so I could get out of the house before my mom cornered me again with breakfast. I needed to try to get my schedule changed.

###

Beep, beep, beep, beep!

Argh. I reached over and flipped the noisy alarm off. I forced myself to sit up in the bed, and I swung my legs off the bed searching for my slippers in the still dark bedroom. I hate the sound of an alarm clock, and therefore, I have a bad habit of turning it off as soon as it starts to beep. Then I end up falling back to sleep. So I have to get out of the bed as soon as the alarm sounds. Needless to say, I am not a morning person. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I brushed out my wavy, light brown hair and applied some moisturizer with SPF onto my face. I’m usually low maintenance when it comes to makeup and hair. I considered myself lucky in the hair department. Sometimes I straightened it with a flat iron or enhanced the waves with gel or mousse, but normally only for special occasions. My skin was fair and sensitive and makeup only irritated it, so I usually only wore moisturizer, mascara, and lip balm or gloss.

I stood staring at the clothes hanging in my closet trying to decide what outfit I was in the mood to wear. I settled on my favorite pair of denim blue jeans and a red V-neck sweater. I own a lot of red because it brought out my blue eyes more and looked good with my brown hair. My favorite pair of black flats and silver hoop earrings finished my outfit. I loved wearing my flats, but being only five-three, I sometimes needed some extra height, but today I didn’t care.

I went to the kitchen, and using the single-cup coffee machine my mom and I bought for each other last Valentine’s Day, I brewed myself a cup of coffee in my favorite to-go mug. We thought it was fitting to buy a single-cup coffee machine since we were both single. We ate homemade cookies and brownies that night, drank way too much coffee, and watched movies until we both eventually came off our caffeine high and fell asleep. I put my lid on my travel mug and wrote a quick note for my mom letting her know I left early for the meeting with the guidance counselor.

###

The school was quiet when I arrived since I was there fifteen minutes early. There were some students in the cafeteria eating breakfast, and some students had ridden the school bus in and were waiting for the bell announcing the start of classes to ring. Past the cafeteria was the main office and the counselor’s office. Both doors were closed, and the lights appeared to be off. Great. I whispered.

I decided to go to my locker, drop my backpack off, and get my books for first period. Just as I turned around, I bumped right into Ms. Schneider, the counselor, and she dropped all the papers and books she had clutched in her arms. Luckily, my cup had a lid, or I would have been wearing hot coffee all over me and so would Ms. Schneider. Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, Ms. Schneider. I didn’t hear you walk up. I bent over to help her gather up her things.

That’s okay, Aria, she assured me. I should have said something to you. I was trying to remember if we had a meeting this morning and forgot to greet you.

I’m sorry. We don’t have a meeting this morning. I missed our meeting yesterday and hoped I could catch you this morning before classes, but if you’re busy, I can come back later.

She peered at me over her small rectangular glasses, which made her look more like a librarian than a counselor. That’s right. We did have a meeting yesterday. Is everything okay? It is not like you to miss a meeting, she stated as she dug around in the oversized canvas tote slung over her shoulder. Eventually she pulled out a set of keys.

No, nothing is wrong, I said. I apologize for not making it yesterday. I was running behind yesterday morning.

She unlocked her office door and motioned me in after her. I do have a few minutes, she said, smiling, if you don’t mind me eating my bagel while we speak.

Oh, Ms. Schneider, I don’t want to interrupt your breakfast… I began.

No, no, no, she chided. Don’t you think twice about it. You are not interrupting me. As long as you don’t mind, I don’t mind.

I took a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk and said, Okay. What I really wanted to talk to you about is changing my fourth period class to something else.

She nodded while she opened her brown fast food bag and retrieved her bagel. I see, she stated, squinting at me over the bagel before taking a bite out of it. A few long seconds went by as she chewed. It is a little late in the semester to change a class.

I sighed as I began to plead my case. Finally, after fifteen minutes of explaining and begging, Ms. Schneider agreed to switch me out of gym class. Unfortunately, there weren’t many classes available that I could switch to. I ended up choosing psychology over philosophy. I don’t believe I’m very philosophical, but maybe a little crazy…maybe just a little.

Before you leave, Ms. Schneider said as I stood up, I have a brochure here for you. I know you want to major in journalism, and there is a tour coming up for Columbia University. I thought you would be interested, she said, handing over the brochure. There are a couple of kids wanting to visit the university from Kennedy High School.

I was overcome with excitement, and a huge smile spread over my face. Columbia University had the best journalism program, and I had pretty much decided that was where I wanted to go. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you! I have really been considering Columbia.

She grinned back at me and said, I know.

I walked out of her office with my eyes glued to the brochure, taking it all in. The tour was just a few weeks away—the day after my eighteenth birthday and a week before Halloween. I hurried down the hall to catch Bianca before class started. This day had started out on a great note.

###

Two

The air had turned even cooler