Banishing the feared Hades cemented his place when his younger brothers were looking at the role with hungry eyes. No one dared cross him once they knew what lengths he was capable of.
And yet it was me and mine who paid the price of his ambition.
I sit back in my chair and attempt to shrug off the weight of the past. He won’t be able to stop from striking back at me over this. I’ll be ready when he does.
In the meantime, I’ll fulfill my threat of breaking Hercules apart piece by piece. The man may not exhibit the sins of his father, but no one grows up in that gilded hell Olympus without being tainted beyond words. Even if he fought against it at one time, he’s not strong enough to hold out indefinitely. I can’t guarantee that, even with Hercules’s history, he won’t come when Zeus calls. Meg would be hurt beyond measure.
No, it’s time to start binding him to us in every way. Until he’s happy on his knees. Until he never considers his other options. If I relish the challenge? Well, I’m only human.
The next step begins today.
Chapter Fourteen
Hercules
Last night feels like a fever dream. I might believe it to be exactly that if not for the faint ache along my back where Hades flogged me. It’s not bruised, but there are light marks on my skin. I stare at them a long time, conflicted. I wanted them last night. I want them now. It’s not the craving for this lifestyle that makes me doubt myself, though.
It’s the craving for him.
I find the gym without too much trouble and spend an hour working through my demons. Sweating always paves the way for clearer thinking, and I’ve been lax in my routine since I left Olympus. Gym memberships are expensive and hardly qualify as a necessary expenditure. Unsurprisingly, the Underworld offers the best of everything. High tech treadmills and bikes. Free weights that gleam in the bright light. Everything looks brand new and barely used, though I know better. It’s an illusion, just like the rest of this place.
I head for the free weights and begin the process of going through my old routine. My body remembers the motions, allowing my thoughts to wander right back to Hades.
Wanting the man who manipulated and trapped me is the height of idiocy. He didn’t pick me by random; his cruelty is too calculated for that. If I’d stopped reacting to Meg and thought for a few minutes, I’d have realized that a long time ago. All roads lead back to Olympus—to my father—I’m sure of it. Would it change my actions? I don’t think so. Even knowing what I do now, I still want her. I should be smarter than this, but I’ve already proven that should has no place here.
I want him.
I want her.
They desire me—some things can’t be faked—but they both have an agenda that hints at a deeper game. My thoughts last night might have been drugged on pleasure and exhaustion, but it doesn’t make them any less true. In the light of day, they feel all the clearer.
Hades plans to use me to get to my father.
I can’t say if it will work. My father hasn’t tried to summon me home since I left, allowing his lack of attention to translate into a punishment. He’s always been like that, giving and withdrawing love in turn. Except, with Zeus, love is an edged weapon even when he’s effusive and happy. Even with family.
With anyone who isn’t family? They don’t have the slightest bit of protection to keep my father from taking what he wants, when he wants. I hiss out a breath and push the barbell away from my chest. The ridiculousness of the situation is not lost on me. If Hades had come to me and offered a plan to bring my father down, I would have agreed and gladly.
Instead, he’d used Meg as both bait and a strange kind of punishment. That is the part that doesn’t make sense to me. What little I know of this man paints a picture of someone who does nothing without a reason. He wouldn’t put together a messy plan that potentially hurts the woman he appears to care about without a damn good reason.
In the end, does it matter what Hades’s endgame is? I gave my word. I’m his for life. If he was going to try to kill me, he would have done it by now. If my being here aggravates my father, I’m still furious enough to enjoy the thought of that. That anger isn’t going away. Not ever. He hurts everyone he comes into contact with. He plucks them, uses them, and then disposes them like they’re tissues instead of people. And Olympus lets him. Everyone looks the other way because he has power, and that’s the only god anyone in that cursed place worships.
I tried and failed to change things, so I left rather than witness it happen again and again.
The door opens and Tink walks in. She gives the entire room a dirty look before settling on me. “There you are.” She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt that has a picture of a skeleton holding a pair of eyes perfectly centered on each breast with the text My eyes are up here. Tink is… quite the character. She snaps her fingers. “Up here, Hercules.”
“I like your shirt,” I say drily.
“It’s my day off,” she snaps back, but her lips tug up a little at the edges. She might be mean as a snake, but I like her. She gives me a long look, lingering on sweat slicking my bare chest. “Hades wants to talk to you. You should probably, uh, shower first. I’ll wait.”
“You want to watch?” I don’t know why I offer. I’m mostly teasing, I think, though Tink is gorgeous enough that if the situation were different, I’d make a real pass at her.
She raises her eyebrows. “What a cute little exhibitionist you are.” She laughs. “But I know better than to play with the boss’s toys without permission. Get your ass in the shower and be quick about it.”
She follows me back to my suite and takes up residence on the couch while I head into the bathroom. I shower quickly, telling myself that it’s prudence causing me to do so, rather than anticipation for seeing him again. I’m a goddamned liar.
I walk to the closet situated off the bathroom and flip on the light. And freeze. Yesterday, I’d dropped my bag into the middle of it with the intention of hanging up my clothes once I had some down time. The bag is gone. Now the space is filled to the brim. On one side is apparently my work wear, an array of fabrics in very small packages. On the other are more clothes than I’ve seen in one place since I left home. Slacks in black and gray. Button-down shirts in a wide range of colors. They’ve even bought me fucking shoes.
I wrap my towel around my waist and raise my voice. “Tink!”
“I’m not watching you wank it.”
Her response almost detracts from my growing irritation. “Get in here.”
She walks through the door and frowns. “What?”
“My closet.” I motion at it. “What the fuck is this? Where the hell are my clothes?”
She peers past me and gives me a look like I’m having one over on her. “Is this a trick question? You have plenty of clothes.”
I feel like I’ve entered a completely different world all over again. I thought I had things down, at least a little, but I didn’t expect something as surface level as this closet being filled to rock me. And yet it is. “Where did they come from?”
“Oh. That” Tink rolls her eyes. “I know you liked your beggar white-bread style, but you can’t dress like that here. Hades and the Underworld have a reputation, and as employees of both, we are part of upholding that.”