“Trust me on this, Persephone.”
“I trust you,” she’d said.
But she didn’t, or at least if she did, she’d disregarded his warning. Was this her way of seeking revenge because of Leuce? The irony was, she had no idea why he’d turned the nymph into a tree or that it had been because of Apollo.
“If that makes you angry, you won’t want to see what else is in the news today.”
The satyr was likely right, but Hades wanted to know anyway. He had a feeling it had everything to do with Persephone.
Ilias pulled out his phone to show Hades a video. It was a news report from earlier, and a red banner at the bottom of the screen drew his eye.
HADES’S LOVER ATTACKS BELOVED GOD
He grimaced, his anger growing the longer the reporter talked about Persephone as if they did not fear his retaliation.
“Guess she didn’t gain enough fame by sleeping with Hades. She had to go after Apollo too?” the reporter said.
Those words went right through him, and he pushed the phone back toward Ilias. After a moment of silence, he asked, “Is she safe?”
“She made it to work,” he replied.
He didn’t like that he’d had to ask that question, did not like that Ilias had to qualify his answer, knowing that she’d now have to make it home.
“If she’d known this would be the response, I doubt she’d have done this,” Ilias said.
“She knew,” Hades said curtly. “I warned her.”
Ilias did not respond, though Hades could tell the satyr was holding back.
“What is it?” he snapped.
Ilias shrugged. “I don’t know. I just think she probably thought you were being overprotective.”
Hades bristled at those words.
Overprotective.
It almost made him sound controlling, and he hated that.
“You can’t tell me who to write about, Hades,” she’d said, and while he’d have liked for her to have been able to write about anyone and anything she wished, the reality was, it wasn’t possible without fallout. She was about to learn the hard way.
“When it comes to Apollo, there is no such thing,” Hades replied.
Ilias did not disagree. “He will hunt her.”
Hades did not need to be told. He knew what the god was capable of. He’d pursue Persephone until she paid for her alleged slander, but Hades wasn’t willing to lose another love to the God of Music.
“That’s not all I have for you,” Ilias said. “This came pinned to the newspaper.”
Ilias handed him a piece of white parchment. The top of the page was embossed with a gold peacock. Beneath the icon was printed From the desk of Hera, Goddess of Marriage and below that was a handwritten message.
I see your lover has caused quite a stir. With your allies growing fewer and fewer among the Olympians, it will be no easy task to convince Zeus to agree to your hopeful matrimony.
It was as much a threat as it was a reminder of the labors Hera had sentenced Hades to. He knew he was running out of time. He would have to kill Briareus soon.
Hades crushed the note in his palm and set it ablaze with black flame. It curled into solid ashes that dissipated into a fine dust, leaving behind a sharp, clean smell and pale-white smoke.
“Anything else?” Hades asked.
“I think that’s enough for today, don’t you?”
Hades rose from his chair, drained his glass, and left the club.
* * *
Hades waited for Persephone in the darkness of her room. He wondered if she had dreaded this encounter. Had the thought of facing him invaded every part of her day? While he would have preferred to occupy her thoughts for a different reason, she had to know he was coming for her, yet she did not hesitate as she entered her room, did not pause to scan the area for signs of his presence. She walked straight to her bedside table, turned on the light, and stepped into the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and returned to her room, arms tangled behind her back as she managed to unzip her dress.
They had not been apart long, but the anger and betrayal between them made it feel like months. His fingers itched to touch her, to help her out of her dress, to ignore the past few days of fury and frustration in favor of something far more pleasurable, but even he knew that was foolish, because all those feelings would be waiting on the other side of that intimate high.
Her dress puddled around her feet, and her skin glowed softly, bathed in the warmth of her lamplight. She straightened, dressed only in black lace, but before she could remove that too, she must have caught sight of him, because she glanced his way and startled.
“Please continue,” he implored, leaning against the wall opposite her. Despite his frustration with her, he’d happily watch her strip, especially knowing he was soon to be the recipient of her anger, given what he’d come here to do.
She stared, speechless, and he wondered what she was thinking as her eyes roved over his body, but there came a time, all too quickly, when she met his gaze, narrowed her eyes, pressed her lips tight, and bent to pull her dress up, holding it to her chest as if they were not lovers at all but strangers.
That simple act made him feel many things but mostly hopeless.
He offered a humorless laugh. “Come now, darling. We are beyond that, are we not? I have seen every inch of you—touched every part of you.”
A tremor shook her, but at least she did not cringe.
“That doesn’t mean you will tonight,” she snapped. “What are you doing here?”
Hades’s impatience made his body vibrate. Why did she feel entitled to anger? She had defied him.
“You are avoiding me.”
He wondered how long it would have taken her to return to the Underworld if he had not sought her out tonight.
“I’m avoiding you? It’s a two-way street, Hades. You’ve been just as absent.”
“I gave you space,” he argued, because he’d assumed that was what was best, yet Persephone rolled her eyes. “Clearly that was a bad idea.”
“You know what you should have given me? An apology.”
She tossed her dress aside and whirled around, heading into the bathroom, where she removed the rest of her clothes. Hades followed as she stepped into the bath and sank into the steaming water. She didn’t seem to mind the heat, though it had already turned her pale skin a bright red. She kept her knees pressed to her chest, and as he spoke, her arms tightened around her knees.
“I told you I loved you.”
It wasn’t as if he had hoped to keep Leuce a secret for malicious reasons. As selfish as it may have been, he hadn’t wanted to admit to turning her into a tree. It was abhorrent behavior and something she had criticized Apollo for.