“And they were useless,” he said.
“Like you?” she countered with her usual venom.
Theseus glared. “I am not the one who consistently fails to deliver.”
“I deliver. You just don’t like the results.”
“And you must not like seeing your sister.”
She sneered at him, but Hades noticed how Theseus stared at her, eyes set intently on her mouth. It was a predatory gaze, and after everything he had said to her tonight, it made Hades want to pluck his eyes from his head and shove them down his throat.
“Put that mouth of yours to good use and do as I say,” said Theseus.
A tense, hateful silence followed, then Ariadne spoke. “If I do as you say, when can I see my sister?”
“That depends entirely on you,” he replied.
Hades did not like whatever hold Theseus had over Ariadne’s sister—or Ariadne, for that matter. It was as if Theseus was holding her prisoner and only granting access to Phaedra when Ariadne performed like he wanted. Knowing the detective like he did, it was unlikely she’d see her sister again. Ariadne wasn’t someone to be controlled.
Now he wondered why she’d come to him about the missing women in New Greece. Had she thought her sister was among Dionysus’s maenads before she’d discovered otherwise?
Hades frowned and returned to Ilias, who he found directing staff in the kitchen. He tried to ignore how the clamor of dishes and chatter ceased at his presence.
“Theseus has Ariadne’s sister,” said Hades. “Find out why and who she is.”
Ilias nodded, though he did not take his eyes off his task, which was rolling silverware into black napkins.
“And keep an eye on them, especially Ariadne,” Hades said, biting the inside of his lip as he thought about the detective. He worried for her and feared the longer Theseus strung her along, the less he would need her. Knowing the demigod, he was already planning how to dispose of her. She knew too much and wasn’t someone he could charm, which meant he couldn’t keep her around long term.
“Of course,” said Ilias.
“Hey! You can’t go back there!” someone shouted, disrupting his debrief with the satyr. For a moment, he thought that perhaps Ariadne had somehow spotted him, but when he turned, he found Leuce bursting through the kitchen doors.
“Hades!” She said his name, but he couldn’t tell if she was surprised or relieved at his presence. His lips flattened as he watched the pale nymph approach, wide eyed and out of breath.
“What do you want, Leuce?” He was still angry with her about Iniquity, not to mention he still believed she was working against him and Persephone.
“I just…” she began, then hesitated. “Will you take me home?”
Hades and Ilias exchanged a look before the god asked, “Why?”
“I…I just feel afraid.”
“You feel afraid?” he repeated. Leuce was a lot of things, but never afraid.
“When I was walking home from Iniquity, I got the sense someone was following me,” she said, and Hades frowned. Likely, she wasn’t wrong. Now and then, a few unsavory characters would linger outside Iniquity and attempt to track various attendees to darkened allies. Usually, they were interested in obtaining an obol to get into the club. “I stopped here because I thought Ilias might be able to help.” Her eyes shifted to the satyr.
“I can take her home, Hades. It’s nothing.”
“No,” he said. He’d rather have the satyr here watching Theseus and Ariadne. It was far easier for him to take Leuce. Though he did not relish time spent with her, he would hate to discover that something had happened to her.
“Keep watch,” Hades reminded Ilias before ushering Leuce out of the kitchen and into a waiting elevator. They did not speak as they took it to the first floor of the parking garage and exited onto the street. Hades looked about as he set off east down the road, and though he saw no one moving in the shadows, he did not trust that whoever had been following her had not walked on to head her off while she was in the restaurant.
“Hades, wait!” Leuce called, and in the next moment, he felt her hand reach for his. Her touch slithered through him, and he jerked his hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” he said.
“Sorry. I was just trying to keep up.”
Hades said nothing but slowed his pace, which allowed her to walk beside him, the steady tap of her heels grinding on his nerves.
“I hope you have forgiven Persephone for attending Iniquity.”
“There was nothing to forgive,” he replied.
“Then have you forgiven me?”
Hades did not respond, because the answer was no.
Leuce scoffed. “Where is this understanding for me? Where was it when we were together?”
Hades cringed. “I have no interest in reflecting on my past with you, Leuce.”
“You’ve changed for her.”
“You only think that because you were gone so long,” Hades replied. “You know nothing about me. Not anymore.”
“I…I’m not saying that because I am angry,” she said. “I’m saying that because I like Persephone. Despite what you think, I do not wish her harm.”
“Perhaps if you’d admit that Demeter gave you life, I’d be more willing to believe that.”
“If you want answers, you’d have to do more to protect me, Hades,” she replied.
Those words gave him pause, and he wondered what she meant—or rather, what she feared. They said nothing else until they had made it to Leuce’s apartment. She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“If protecting Persephone meant protecting you, I’d do whatever it took,” Hades said.
“You can start by giving me a new job,” she said and then offered a small, sad smile. “I’ve already said too much.”
Then the nymph slammed her door in his face.
Before Hades returned to the Underworld, he stopped by Persephone’s room, where he intended to tell her about his night—namely that he had seen Leuce home. However, when he manifested, he found her asleep, and given that she had been so tired earlier, he did not wish to wake her, so he smoothed his hand through her hair, inhaling her sweet scent before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you,” he whispered and vanished.
Chapter XXIII
A Game of Pride
“You are really going to hate this,” Ilias said and dropped a copy of the Delphi Divine in front of him as he sat at the Nevernight bar the next morning.