Unnerved, she pushed through the mass of people until she reached the outer edge of the dance floor. She sought darkness, wishing to become shadow, and she found it as she rested against a wall at the mouth of a hallway.
Her body still shook from the memories she’d recalled on the dance floor. She was both aroused and pissed. What sort of horrible magic encouraged such salacious thoughts? And why had they morphed into something that made her want to vomit? She didn’t want to think of Leuce and Hades together. She didn’t want to think that what they had in common was that they both knew Hades’ body so well.
She liked to think she knew a different Hades, and that the way he coaxed her to orgasm was different than how he’d treated others.
She felt ridiculous as these thoughts rolled through her head. Perhaps whatever magic had overcome her on the dance floor was still clinging to her aura.
As she hid there in the darkness, the crowd pulsing on the dance floor in front of her, something was suddenly thrust in her closed fist. The feeling was strange and sudden—magic, she realized as she opened her hand, and found a piece of paper. Unfolding it, there was a number written in ink. 777. Below the number was an arrow, as if directing her to walk down the hallway.
She looked around and saw nothing but felt as if the whole room were watching her, even as she lurked in the darkness. Peeling away from the wall, she followed the arrow down the dark hall and happened upon an elevator, only visible because the numbers and doors were alight in red.
She pressed the button and the elevator opened soundlessly.
Inside, she noted the floors only went up to eight. She assumed that she needed the seventh floor and that the number on the paper was a room.
After the roar on the dance floor, the silence in the elevator pushed against her ears. It unsettled her and left her to focus on what was ahead—the unknown. What if Leuce was wrong about the Magi? What if they wanted something she couldn’t give? What if they couldn’t help her?
When the elevator doors opened, she was let out into a hallway that led straight to a black door. She approached hesitantly, fear warring with the guilt in her mind. Finally, she knocked and a voice on the other side directed her to come inside.
The handle was cold and made her skin prick as she entered. The room was dim and had black marble floors and dark walls. The only source of light came from the center of the room. It illuminated a raised, round platform and a large, plush chair upon which a familiar man was seated.
He was Kal Stavros.
He looked exactly like his pictures in the tabloids. He had a perfect, square face, a swath of thick, black hair, and blue eyes.
She hated his face.
Persephone narrowed her eyes, fingers tightening into fists. The surge of anger she felt at seeing this man was acute. It drove her magic wild.
“Persephone,” Kal purred.
Was it possible to reach into his mouth and yank her name from it? Persephone thought.
“I hope Alec and Cy didn’t frighten you, but I had to be sure it was you.”
So those men from the dance floor worked for him.
"I can see why Hades is taken with you," he said, his eyes trailed her body, making her feel sick to her stomach. “Beauty and spirit, well-spoken and opinionated. Qualities I admire.”
“Don’t make me vomit,” she said. “Just tell me what you want.”
He chuckled. It was villainous—a sound contrary to his beauty.
“I’m so glad you asked,” he said. “But you first—what brings you to Iniquity, the heart of sin?”
She hesitated. What was she still doing in this room? She turned to leave, but instead of finding the door she had entered, she faced a wall of mirrors.
“Going somewhere?”
She twisted toward him.
“Are you holding me prisoner?”
“These are the rules of Iniquity. Once you enter the chamber of a dealer, you don’t leave until a bargain is struck.”
That isn’t what Leuce had said.
“What if I don’t want to bargain with you?”
“You don’t know what I’m offering.”
“If it isn’t a way out of this room, I don’t want it.”
“Even if it means saving your friend?”
Silence followed his question, and Persephone swallowed. “What do you know about that?”
Kal smiled, and it made the words that came out of his mouth next more callous. “I know she will die unless you can find a way to heal her.”
“She isn’t dying,” Persephone said through her teeth. It wasn’t true—it couldn’t be. Neither Hades or Sybil had said so…and wouldn’t they say so?
“That is not what I see.”
Persephone shifted slightly on her feet. She was uncomfortable in this dark room, closed up with a man who had already bargained with her—an exclusive in exchange for her job.
“Why should I trust you?”
“Because deep down, you know I’m right. If you thought Lexa was going to live, would you have come?”
She hated him.
“What do you want?”
He showed his teeth when he smiled this time.
“I have a deal for you. I’ll give you the spell you need to heal your friend if you give me everything.”
“Everything?”
“I want every detail of your relationship with Hades. I want to know how you met him, when he first kissed you, and all the scandalous details from the first time he fucked you.”
“You’re sick.”
“I’m a businessman, Persephone. Sex sells,” he sat back in the chair. “Sex with gods sells better, and you, my sweet—you’re a goldmine.”
“I’m not the only one who’s slept with Hades.” She hated that she said the words at all, but it was true.
“But you’re the first he’s committed to and that’s worth more than the words of a fuck buddy. He’s invested in you which means he’ll do anything to protect you and the details of your private life.”
Persephone suddenly understood. “You want to blackmail Hades?”
“Well, he is the Rich One.”
“But you’re rich,” Persephone argued.
“Not like him,” Kal said. “But that’s what you’re going to help me with, and in exchange, you get to save your friend from certain death.”
As Kal was speaking, Persephone noticed something black glimmering at the man’s feet—snakes. They wound their way around his feet and his wrists. Kal only noticed when the serpents scaly body curled over his neck. He screamed, but froze when the creatures tightened their hold, hissing near his ear.
Hades materialized out of the darkness, surprising Persephone. She hadn’t felt him at all.
His voice sounded calm and collected, but she felt his rage.
“Are you threatening me, Kal?” he asked.
“No…never!” The pitch of Kal’s voice changed, rising with his fear.
Persephone turned to look at Hades. He was angry—it was present in his eyes and the press of his lips against hers as he bent to kiss her. His tongue demanded entrance, twining with her own. One of his hands cupped her neck and chin, the other knotting into her hair, tightening around the strands. He forced her mouth open wider, lapping at the back of her throat. When he pulled away, it was with her bottom lip between his teeth.