Persephone rolled her eyes and countered, “He doesn’t trust you.”
“But he should trust you.”
“He does, he also knows how many times I told you not to call me names,” she gave him a challenging look.
Apollo pouted and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m just having fun.”
“I thought we were having fun!”
The God of the Sun brightened. “You were having fun?”
She sighed loudly. “You make me regret keeping up my end of this bargain.”
He grinned. “Lesson number two, Sephy. When a god gives you an out, take it.”
“And what’s lesson number one?”
“Never accept a bargain from a god.”
“If those are lessons, no one’s listening.”
“Of course not. Gods and mortals always want what they can’t have.”
“Including you?” she asked, glancing at him.
He seemed to sober then, a grimace marring his perfect face.
“Me more than anyone,” Apollo replied.
CHAPTER X – A WALK IN THE PARK
Apollo returned Persephone to Alexandria Tower without warning. Her only indication he was about to act was the smell of his magic.
“Apollo!” she growled, but her frustration was lost as the floor seemed to go out from beneath her feet. Her stomach lurched, the world flashed, and when it cleared, she found Hades sitting behind her desk in her new office.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” his voice rumbled—a low growl and her brows furrowed.
He did not sound pleased, but he seemed comfortable, eased back in her chair, a finger pressed against his mouth, legs spread wide, and she had the thought that she would fit snugly in the gap between his thighs.
“Are you well?” she asked.
“Harmonia is awake,” he said.
Persephone’s heart rose into her throat.
“How is she?” her words came in a rush.
“We’re about to find out,” he said and rose to his feet, coming around the desk. “Did you enjoy your time with Apollo?”
Persephone wasn’t surprised that Hades knew where she’d gone, he could probably smell Apollo’s magic. Still, she frowned, knowing Hades was not happy—and yet, there was nothing he could do. She and Apollo were bound by a bargain she’d insisted on fulfilling when he’d attempted to release her from the contract—something Hades had not at all been excited to learn.
Still, Persephone stood by her decision. The last thing Apollo needed was to feel abandoned.
“On a numeric scale?” She asked. “I’d give it about a six.”
Hades lifted a brow. It was as if he wanted to be amused, but his irritation was winning.
“I’m sorry you are not pleased.”
“I am not displeased with you,” he answered. “I’d just rather Apollo not cart you off to Delphi during your mother’s tantrum and while Adonis and Harmonia’s attackers are still out there.”
“Did you…follow me?”
The thought didn’t upset her—in fact, she wished Hades could trace her location more often. There were times when he was not able to find her—somehow, and she wasn’t sure exactly how—she blocked his ability to sense and trace her magic. It had happened a few times—once when she had gotten lost in the Underworld, again when Apollo had stolen her away for a ridiculous karaoke competition, and finally when Pirithous had kidnapped her. Each instance was more dangerous than the last.
Hades eyes fell, and he lifted her hand so that her ring was on full display, the gems glinting under the light, the center to several delicately crafted flowers.
“These stones—tourmaline and dioptase—give off a unique energy, your energy. As long as you wear this, I can find you anywhere.”
Persephone wasn’t surprised by that ability; Hades was the God of Precious Metals.
“It wasn’t…intentional,” Hades added. “I didn’t set out to…put a tracker on you.”
“I believe you,” she said. “It’s…comforting.”
Hades stared at her and then brushed his lips along her fingers. His breath was warm against her cold skin.
“Come, Aphrodite is waiting,” he said, and they vanished.
***
They appeared outside a mansion composed of white stucco and glass. The front door was wood and had a long, elegant handle. A window beside it allowed Persephone to look in and see a staircase. She would have never guessed that the study she had been in last night belonged to this house. That room was traditional and warm, while this was modern and sleek.
Persephone shivered, hugging herself as the wind whipped around them, smelling of salt and stinging cold. Demeter’s winter had not neglected the islands around New Greece either, it seemed.
“Can’t we just teleport inside like last time?” Persephone asked, her teeth chattering.
“We could,” he answered. “If we had been invited.”
“What do you mean? Didn’t Aphrodite let you know Harmonia was awake?”
Hades did not reply immediately.
“Hades,” Persephone warmed.
“She sent Hermes for you,” Hades replied. “He found me instead.”
They stared at one another. Persephone wasn’t sure what to say. Aphrodite was trying to go behind Hades’ back, and while Persephone wondered what the Goddess of Love hoped to accomplish sans Hades, she also wondered if Hades realized she wouldn’t have come without him.
“You won’t do this without me,” he said.
She had her answer. It was a blow—a pain she hadn’t anticipated. He didn’t trust her, not with this anyway, and while she recognized she didn’t have the best track record for obeying, this was a different—she was different. Her eyes stung and she swallowed a lump in her throat as she turned her head almost mechanically to face the entrance.
“Persephone—”
But whatever Hades was about to say was lost as the door opened. A woman answered—except Persephone did not think she was a woman at all. She looked alive enough—rosy cheeks and glassy eyes—but she could not sense any kind of actual life—no fluttering heartbeat or warmth.
She must be an animatronic, Persephone thought, one of Hephaestus’s creations.
“Welcome.” Her tone was soft, breathy—it reminded Persephone of Aphrodite’s voice, only slightly strained. “My lord and lady are not expecting guests. State your names please.”
Persephone started to open her mouth, but Hades breezed past the women—robot—whatever she was—and entered the home.
“Excuse me!” She called after Hades. “You are entering the private residence of Lord and Lady Hephaestus!”
“I am Lady Persephone,” she said. “That is Lord Hades.”
The God of the Dead turned to her. “Come, Persephone.”
She folded her arms over her chest and glared. “You could show some courtesy. You weren’t invited, remember?”
Hades’ mouth tightened.
The animatronic was silent, and Persephone wondered for a moment if she had broken it, but her face changed—lighting up as if she were excited or pleased and said, “Lady Persephone, you are most welcome. Please, follow me.”