“Can’t say that I have,” he answered.
He was the only mortal she knew who didn’t seem at all obsessed with the gods.
“Well, I messed up.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
She took a deep breath. “I kinda...chose to do something I promised Hades I wouldn’t do because I was angry with him and now...I can’t take it back.”
“Ah,” Pirithous offered a little laugh. He took a bit of his sandwich, talking as he chewed. “What did he do?”
“Something stupid,” she muttered. “I don’t think he sees the problem with what he did.”
Pirithous smiled in his sad way. She got the sense that he understood her situation more than he wanted to admit.
“They often don’t,” he commented.
“I don’t understand.”
He shrugged. “Men just don’t think.”
“That is really a horrible excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse, really. Just a reality. All you can do is keep fighting for what you want. If he wants you, he will work to understand you.”
She pursed her lips, feeling ridiculous. She knew now that she’d overreacted, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She wanted him to feel as betrayed as she felt when she’d learned about Leuce. She wanted him to feel the frustration she’d felt with each passing hour that she hadn’t heard from him. She’d wanted to defy him, just to see if she could get a reaction.
“Am I being irrational?”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but emotions are emotions,” he said. “I have been the stupid boy before. I wish I had worked harder.”
Persephone felt she understood the sadness that clung to this man. She wondered what Hades would see if he looked at his soul.
“What stupid thing did you do?”
He took a deep breath. “You will be surprised, I think, given your history.”
Persephone’s brows drew together, but before she could ask what he meant, Pirithous explained.
“I gambled a lot—not the kind of gambling your boyfriend does. I used to bet on the Panhellenic Games. I was good—lucky, I guess. Until I wasn’t. Thought I was doing what was best for my girl and I believed that so much I ignored what was important—her wish that I stop. She didn’t care about the money or the status. She just wanted me.”
He paused to offer a small laugh.
“Gods, I’d give anything for a woman who just wanted me now.”
“What happened to her?”
“She is happily married. Expecting her first child. Strange to watch someone you love move on and assume a life that could have been yours.”
Persephone hoped she would never have to do that.
“I am sorry,” she said, and covered his hand with hers for a moment.
He shrugged.
“I thought I was protecting her,” he paused. “Maybe that’s what Hades thought he was doing for you.”
She had no doubt.
“I wish he would stop. I don’t need protection.”
“Everyone needs protecting,” he said. “Life’s hard.”
Persephone frowned. She’d said something similar to Hades’ once when she’d argued with him about why it was important to forgive mortals. She’d never considered she required the same grace.
After lunch, the day just got worse. Helen was dealing with an influx of angry phone calls and Persephone’s inbox continued to fill with hate mail. She couldn’t escape the judgement, even in her text messages.
I can’t believe you did it! Lexa texted.
She wasn’t sure if that was her best friend expressing her excitement or her frustration.
Have you talked to Sybil? Persephone asked.
No. I am betting she’ll lay low. If she was still Apollo’s oracle, you know she’d be dealing with this mess.
If she was still his oracle, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
Um, girl, I meant YOU. You’re the mess.
I just told the truth. So sue me.
I’m thinking Apollo will resort to more archaic means. Lexa paused and then text, Has Hades said anything yet?
Nope.
There had been no apology, no lecture, and her emotions were all over the place. She had never felt like this before, torn between anger, a desperate wish to be confronted by him, and fear of his disappointment.
When Persephone left the Acropolis, Antoni met her at the doors and walked her through the aggressive crowd. He waited until they were safely in the car to ask, “Are you okay, my lady?”
She wasn’t sure why, but the question made her eyes burn. All of a sudden, she was holding back tears. She would not cry over this—not yet. Apollo wasn’t worth her tears.
She took a deep breath.
“Is he angry?”
She knew she didn’t have to say Hades’ name. Antoni would know who she was talking about.
“I haven’t seen him,” the ogre admitted. “But I can imagine he won’t be happy.”
She knew that, which was why there was no way she was going to the Underworld tonight. She was thankful that the ogre didn’t elaborate or berate her for writing about Apollo. Most of the drive was spent in silence, except for when she asked Antoni to stop so she could grab takeout before heading home.
By the time she made it to the apartment, all she wanted to do was take a hot bath and go to sleep. She bid Antoni goodnight, and headed inside. Lexa had texted her to let her know she would be out with Jaison. Sybil was sitting at the bar working on a resume, but when Persephone walked through the door, left her seat and folded her into her arms.
Persephone dropped her purse and the takeout to the floor and hugged the oracle back.
“I’m sorry,” Persephone said. “I didn’t listen to you.”
“It’s okay,” Sybil said. “I don’t blame you for wanting to tell their stories, I just hate that no one believes you.”
“I know that’s why you told me not to do it,” Persephone said, and she smiled a little as she pulled away to look at Sybil. “Apollo might have taken away your powers, but your instincts are on point.”
She shrugged. “I know how history treats women.”
Sybil picked up Persephone’s purse and the food she’d brought, sitting it on the counter.
“It’s moussaka, if you want some,” Persephone said, nodding to the bag of food. “I also got baklava because…you know…it’s been a hard day.”
Sybil laughed softly. “Of course.”
“I think I’m going to take a bath.”
Sybil nodded. “I’ll be here if you wanna talk.”
“Thanks, Syl.”
Persephone navigated to her bedside table in the dark, familiar with the layout of her room, and turned on the lamp. She stepped into the bathroom, removed her jewelry, and started the bathwater. As it was running, she moved back into her room and began to undress when she noticed something shifting in the corner of her eye. She turned, startled by Hades’ presence in her room.
How had she not felt him?
Because he didn’t want you to, she thought immediately.
“Please continue,” he said, leaning casually against the wall in partial darkness. He looked at home, born of the shadow. His hands were in the pockets of his slacks, and he’d removed his jacket. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up, and the top two buttons undone, exposing his well-muscled forearms and chest.