“Hmm?” She was too tired to use words, eyes heavy with sleep.
“Speak another’s name in this bed again and know you have assigned their soul to Tartarus.”
She opened her eyes. She wanted to look at him, to see the violence in his gaze and chase it—why had this upset him so much? Did the God of the Underworld, Rich One, Receiver of Many, fear Apollo?
After his warning, Hades relaxed, his breath grew even and calm. Reluctant to disturb his peace, she snuggled close and fell asleep.
CHAPTER V - ROYAL TREATMENT
Persephone relayed the disastrous conversation she’d had with Hades to Lexa at lunch the next day. They’d chosen a booth at the back of their favorite cafe, The Yellow Daffodil, that gave them relative privacy. Despite the roar of the restaurant, Persephone felt paranoid talking about Hades in public. She leaned over the table toward Lexa, whispering.
“I’ve never seen him so…”
Unyielding. So obstinate. He was usually willing to at least hear her out, but from the moment Apollo’s name had left her mouth, Hades had been finished with the conversation.
“Hades has a point,” Lexa said, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs.
Persephone looked at her best friend, surprised she would side with the God of the Dead.
“I mean, do you really think you can touch Apollo’s reputation? He’s the Golden Boy of New Athens.”
“An honor he doesn’t deserve considering how he treats the men and women he ‘loves.’”
“But...what if people don’t believe you, Persephone?”
“I can’t worry about whether or not people will believe me, Lex.”
The thought that Apollo’s victims would be ignored because of his popularity infuriated her, but what enraged her more was that she knew Lexa was right, there was a chance no one would believe her.
“I know. I’m just saying...it might not play out like you think.”
Persephone frowned, confused by her friend’s words. “And what do I think?”
Lexa twisted her fingers together on the table in front of her and shrugged, finally lifting her gaze to Persephone’s. Her eyes looked more vivid today, probably due to the smokey shadow she wore.
“I don’t know. I mean, you are literally hoping for reason from a god who can’t take rejection. It’s like you think you can magically change Apollo’s behavior with some words.”
Persephone flinched, and noticed that Lexa’s eyes shifted to Persephone’s shoulder. In her peripheral, she saw green, and when she looked, a thread of vines had sprouted out of her skin. Persephone clapped a hand over them. Of all the times her magic had responded to her emotions, it had never manifested liked this. She pulled the vines free and blood spilled down her arm.
“Oh, my gods!” Lexa shoved a wad of napkins into her hands and Persephone pressed them against her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Has this ever happened before?”
“No,” she said, peeling back the napkins to look at the wound the vines left behind. The gash was small, like she’d been scratched by a throne and the bleeding minimal.
“Is that a goddess thing?” Lexa asked.
“I don’t know.”
She’d never seen her mother’s powers manifest this way, or Hades’ for that matter. Maybe it was just another example of how terrible she was at being a goddess.
“Will you tell Hades?”
The question surprised Persephone, and her gaze shot to Lexa’s. “Why would I tell him?”
She listed the reasons, “Because it’s never happened to you before, because it looks painful, because it might have something to do with being the Goddess of Spring?”
“Or it’s nothing,” Persephone said quickly. “Don’t worry about it, Lex.”
A beat of silence passed between them before Lexa reached a hand across the table to draw Persephone’s attention.
“You know I’m just worried about you, right?
The Goddess of Spring sighed. “I know. Thank you.”
There was more silence and then Lexa shrugged. “I guess none of this really matters. You already promised Hades you wouldn’t write about Apollo...right?”
Persephone was reluctant to meet Lexa’s gaze.
“Persephone—”
“What about Sybil? Are we just supposed to let her suffer?” Persephone asked.
“No, we’re supposed to be her friends,” Lexa said.
“Which means I should do everything in my power to ensure Apollo is exposed.”
“It means you should do what Sybil wants you to do.”
Persephone frowned. Sybil wanted Persephone to leave this situation alone, but silence was part of the problem. How many people had been hurt by Apollo and not spoken up?
“Are all the Divine wired for revenge?” Lexa posed the question off-handed, as if she were asking it rhetorically, but it didn’t sit well with Persephone.
“What do you mean?”
Lexa shrugged. “You all want to punish. Apollo wants to punish his lovers so you want to punish him, and he will probably punish you for that. It’s insanity.”
“I don’t want to punish him,” she said, defensively.
Lexa raised a brow.
“I don’t! I want people to know they shouldn’t trust him.”
“Just like you wanted people to know not to trust Hades?”
“That’s different.”
It was true Persephone had started her series on Hades with the intention of exposing his unfair bargains with mortals. Overtime, however, she’d learned his intentions were far more honorable than she’d originally assumed.
Lexa sighed. “Maybe, but isn’t that what Hades was telling you? Apollo is willing to punish without a second thought.”
Persephone averted her gaze, frustrated, and Lexa’s outstretched hand covered her own.
“I just want you to be careful. I know Hades will protect you, but I also know how hard it is for you to ask for help.”
Persephone managed a small smile. She knew Lexa was only speaking out of concern for her, but her best friend didn’t know the whole story. She still hadn’t told her about her boss’s ultimatum. She felt like she was in a bargain with Hades again, faced with losing two things she valued most. Perhaps if she explained, Lexa would understand, but as she started to speak, they were interrupted by a stranger.
“You’re Hades’ girlfriend, aren’t you?”
The voice startled them, and the question made Persephone cringe. A young woman had appeared beside their table. She wore a long shirt, tights and boots. Her phone was in hand, and she was pulling at the elastic holding her hair in a top knot.
“Can I get a picture?” The girl asked as she fluffed her hair and smoothed it over her shoulder.
“Sorry, no,” Persephone said. “I’m having lunch.”
“It’ll just take a second,” She leaned in to take a selfie, her camera on. Persephone shifted away, holding out her hands to stop the girl.
“I said no.”
“Just one,” the girl attempted to bargain.
“What about no don’t you understand?” Persephone asked.