“Hades doesn’t know where you’re going, does he?”
Persephone opened her mouth and then closed it. There was no need to answer, Sybil already knew. So instead she said, “It isn’t like he can’t find me.”
The oracle nodded. “Just…be careful, Persephone. I know you want to save Lexa, but what will you destroy to get there?”
Those words shivered down her spine. She didn’t like what they implied. All Persephone wanted was for everything to go back to the way it was before Lexa’s accident.
“I thought you said there was nothing I needed to know.”
The oracle gave a wry smile. “You don’t make promises and oracles speak in riddles.”
Fair.
Persephone had learned a lot about oracles from Sybil. They might hear prophecies, but they heard them the way they said them. How it was interpreted was up to the one who received it.
Persephone chose to interpret this as—there’s no other way, and so she left for Iniquity.
She tamped down the anxiety that flared in her stomach when she told the driver her destination. He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. The name clearly made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded and took off into the night.
Persephone settled into the backseat and checked her phone.
It was a habit because she used to talk to Lexa all the time, but there were no new messages—none from Lexa, no updates from Jaison or Lexa’s mother, nothing.
She spent the ride reading through previous text messages from Lexa and by the time the cab stopped, her eyes were watery and her throat thick with tears. The emotion was motivating. It made it easier to swallow her guilt and look out the window.
The car had stopped in front of a plain, brick building. The name was nowhere to be found on the exterior.
She hesitated before exiting.
“Is this...the right place?” she asked.
“You said Iniquity, right?” the driver asked, he pointed to the building. “That’s it.”
She left the cab and stood outside alone, unnerved by the quiet. She had expected a crowd similar to Nevernight even though Leuce had made it clear Iniquity was different. It was invitation-only—exclusive to the underbelly of society. She shivered and started down the alleyway. The taxi driver had dropped her off at the front of the building, but Leuce had been clear in her instructions: the entrance is in the back, down the stairs, knock once.
She headed down a dimly lit alleyway and found the door. She did as she was instructed and a slot in the door opened. She jumped but couldn’t see anything through the opening. It took her a moment to remember her password.
“Parabasis,” she said.
The word shivered through her whole body, its meaning shaking her foundation.
To intentionally cross a line.
She knew that’s what she was doing, but she had to try.
Lexa needed her—she needed Lexa.
Whoever was on the other side of the door closed the slot and opened the door. Hesitantly, she entered the club. Like Nevernight, she stepped into complete darkness. Whoever occupied the space with her was not visible, but she felt them.
They said nothing, just moved past her. After a brief moment, a set of curtains opened ahead of her, and she was let into an unfamiliar world colored in red, full of gems and feathers and burning lights. The floor of the club was packed with people. A stage towered over the crowd, framed with crimson curtains and blazing bulbs. Women danced there, dressed in shimmering bras, fishnet stockings, and enormous headpieces. They were glamorous, synchronized, and erotic, swaying to sensual music.
Persephone stood frozen, entranced.
The air around her was hot, heavy, and scented with vanilla. She inhaled it, and it filled her veins like her magic, shivering through her body, heating her skin. She rolled her neck and shoulders, loosening tense muscles, relaxing into the music. The part of her mind that told her to be on edge was fading.
A hand slipped into hers and she twisted to find Leuce standing behind her. She didn’t speak, just pulled Persephone along the back wall into a darkened hallway.
“This place—” Persephone breathed.
“Is meant to ensnare, Persephone,” Leuce placed her hands on either side of the goddess’s face. “Keep your wits about you and focus on your task. The air here is toxic. It will draw you in, a current you can’t escape.”
“That would have been great information to have before I got here,” she said, a little irritated.
The nymph smiled. “There’s nothing I could have done to prepare you. You are either strong-willed or not. It’s how they will choose you.”
Persephone focused on the nymph. Her ice-white eyes were intense. It was then she noted how the girl was dressed. Her white hair was curled and styled. She wore bright red lipstick, and her outfit was a short silver tassel dress that shimmered like all the stars in the sky. She looked like one of the dancers on stage.
“You work here?”
Again, it was information she would have liked to have before arriving here, but Leuce didn’t seem to think it was important.
“Focus on your task, Persephone. You wanted this, remember?”
That almost sounded like a threat.
She glared at the woman, eyes flashing. She suddenly wished to remind Leuce of who she really was.
“Then tell me what to do. How do I ensure they see me?”
“You dance,” Leuce answered. “If they’re interested, they’ll come to you.”
Persephone glanced over her shoulder where hundreds of people were crammed together on the floor.
“Are you telling me all these people are here for the same thing?”
“Not the same thing,” she said. “But they’re here because they want something.”
“Leuce, what else goes on here other than illegal magic?”
“That’s not a conversation you want to have, Persephone. Trust me.”
She was gone then, and Persephone was swallowed by the crowd. For a few seconds, it was like fighting a current, graceless and panicked, but like earlier, she found there was something bewitching about the music. It seemed to dance along her skin, seep through her pours, until she moved with the beat, rocking her hips and raising her arms over her head. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and images of sensual nights with Hades reeled through her head—his soft mouth on hers, his silken tongue lapping at sensitive skin, his body glistening and hot, his cock filling, stretching, demanding. Her breath was short, and a moan escaped from her mouth.
She felt rabid, starved, desperate.
It got worse.
Her memories were suddenly infiltrated by another face—it wasn’t her body beneath Hades’—it was Leuce, her back was arched, her head thrown back, her mouth open as she screamed her lover’s name.
It was enough to break the spell the music had cast upon Persephone. Suddenly, she was aware of her surroundings again—the bodies crowded her, their sweat-soaked skin brushing hers.
Hands gripped her hips and a body moved behind her. She turned to face a man dressed in dark clothing, and in the red light, his eyes were black. At first, she wondered if he was here to summon her, but his hand remained fastened on her hips. She pushed him back, intending to break contact with him, when another set of hands clasped her shoulders.
Persephone wrenched from his grip, her heart raced, her magic igniting in her blood, but as she turned to look at the other person who had touched her, both men disappeared into the crowd.