“It’s the price I pay for every life I’ve taken by bargaining with the Fates,” he said. “I carry them with me. These are their life-threads, burned into my skin. Is this what you want on your conscious, Persephone?”
Slowly, she pried her hand from his and brought it back to her chest, eyes following the lines on his golden skin. She remembered wondering how many bargains he’d made when they’d entered their own. She had no idea they were written into his skin. Still, she found this frustrating. Hades had spoken of balance before, but this had him chained. He was one of the most powerful Olympian Gods, and yet his power was limited.
“What good is being the God of the Dead if you can’t do anything?” The words spilled out of her mouth before she could catch them. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Hades offered a gruff laugh. “You meant it,” he said, and placed his hand on the side of her face, forcing her gaze back to his. When she looked into his eyes, her heart felt like it was going to break into pieces. How was it this immortal god seemed to understand her sorrow? “I know you don’t want to understand why I can’t help, and that’s okay.”
“I just...don’t know what to do,” she said, and her shoulder sagged. She felt defeated.
“Lexa isn’t gone yet,” Hades said. “And yet you mourn her. She may recover.”
“Do you know that for certain? That she will recover?”
“No.”
His eyes were searching, and she wondered what he was looking for. Persephone had come here for hope, for comfort in the knowledge that Lexa would be okay no matter what, and yet Hades wasn’t giving it. She let her head fall against this chest. She was so tired.
After a moment, Hades scooped her up into his arms and teleported to the Underworld.
“Do not fill your thoughts with the possibilities of tomorrow,” he said as he placed her in bed. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and everything went dark.
CHAPTER XIII - A TOUCH OF PANIC
Persephone woke the next morning with sticky eyes and a headache. Her sleep had been fitful, the events of the day ebbed and flowed, hitting her hard, evoking a burst of sadness and raw emotion, then receding into a kind of numb stupor.
As she sat up, there was a knock at her door, and Hecate poked her head in.
“Good morning, my sweet,” she said. “I’ve brought you some breakfast.”
Something thick had settled at the back of her throat and she thought she might vomit. There was no way she could eat right now, not with the way her stomach churned.
“No thank you, Hecate. I’m not hungry.”
The goddess frowned. “Sit with me for a little while, then. Perhaps you will change your mind.”
“I’m sorry, Hecate. I can’t,” Persephone said, already on her feet. “I need to get to the hospital.”
She checked her phone, but there were no texts from Lexa’s mother or Jaison. She hoped that was a good sign. She hurried into the adjoining bathroom and scrubbed her face. The cold water felt good against her flushed skin.
“You really should eat something,” Hecate said. “It would please Hades.”
It might please Hades, but Persephone was sure she would be sick if she ate.
“Where is Hades?” she asked, exiting the bathroom. He’d been beside her through most of the night, waking up each time she rose from bed to blow her nose or wash her face.
The goddess shrugged. “I do not know. He summoned me early this morning. He did not wish to disturb you.”
She wasn’t sure why, but not knowing where Hades was at this moment made her uneasy. She couldn’t help where her mind wandered—was he sorting things out with Leuce? She had asked him to give her a place to live and her job back, but she had not seen the nymph. She supposed she could ask today as she was scheduled to meet Leuce later. It was part of the deal she’d made to mentor the nymph.
“I am sorry about Lexa, Persephone,” Hecate said at last.
The sentiment made Persephone shiver, and her eyes watered.
“It shouldn’t have been her.”
Hecate said nothing, and Persephone cleared her throat. After she was dressed, she grabbed her phone and her purse.
“I’ll take coffee if you have it,” she told Hecate as she prepared to head out.
“That is not sustenance.”
“Yes, it is—it’s caffeine.”
Hecate frowned, but obliged, summoning a steaming cup of coffee.
“Thank you, Hecate,” Persephone said. “When you see Hades, tell him I had breakfast.”
“That would be a lie,” she argued.
“No, it’s not. He knows what breakfast means for me.”
Hecate shook her head, grimacing, but didn’t argue.
Persephone left Nevernight on foot. It was already hot and it wasn’t even noon. The heat coiled around her skin as she walked, dampening her clothes and causing her hair to stick to her neck and face. She probably should have taken the bus, or asked Hecate to arrange for a ride, but she really wanted to be alone.
“Persephone!” she glanced up. Someone on the other side of the street had called her name. She didn’t recognize them, but they were now looking up and down the road in an attempt to cross. She quickened her pace.
“Persephone!”
She glanced behind her again. The person had made it across the street, and they were now running toward her.
“Persephone Rosi, wait!”
She cringed, hearing her name called so loud, drawing stares from curious onlookers.
“Persephone?” Another voice joined in. “Hey, it’s Persephone Rosi! Hades’ lover!”
A man stepped in front of her and asked, “Can I get a picture?”
He was already holding up his phone.
“Sorry, no. I’m in a hurry,” Persephone sidestepped the man, and continued down the sidewalk.
“What’s Hades like?” someone called.
“Was he angry about the article you wrote?”
“How did you meet?”
The words crowded her like the people outside the Acropolis. She kept her arms close to her body, and her head down so they couldn’t get pictures of her face. Did they think less space would force answers out of her? Maybe they thought fear would do the trick.
“Stop following me!” she finally yelled, feeling claustrophobic and a little terrified.
Persephone broke into a run, trying to escape the crowd that had formed around her. They yelled her name and questions and horrible things. She cut across the street and slipped down an alleyway. Just as she exited, she was caught by the shoulder and hauled around. She twisted and punched her assailant in the face.
Her knuckles met the hard-as-stone face of Hermes.
“Fuck!” She cursed. Shacking her fingers out. “Hermes!”
His brows rose to meet his hairline. “I have to say, women are more agreeably engaged with me when those two words come out of their mouth.”
“She went this way!” someone yelled.
Persephone met Hermes’ gaze and snapped, “Get me out of here!”
He grinned. “As you wish, Goddess of Profanity.”
Hermes teleported, and once they arrived safely on the rooftop garden of the hospital, she gave a frustrated cry.