Maybe they’re right and this is the start of something new. Something special.
Maybe this really won’t blow up in our faces.
Maybe.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hades
Something akin to guilt pricks me as I sit in my private office and turn on my computer. Leaving Hercules and Meg in my bed was harder than I anticipated. They fit there, just like I suspected they would. We fit. The knowledge still sits strangely with me. Hercules may give himself freely and without reservation, but that’s not the man I am. I know my Meg cares deeply for him. Despite herself, perhaps, but it’s there all the same.
My feelings are a bit more complicated.
I click to bring up the video that was recorded earlier tonight. The three of us in my public office, Hercules trussed up with the nipple clamps and cock ring, the metal chain glinting with every movement. My cock in his mouth. Meg behind him, fucking his ass. The video is high quality and there’s absolutely no doubt of our identities, just like there’s no doubt that Hercules is a happy, willing participant in his fall from grace.
It takes the space of a few moments to cut the video down to size, a thirty second clip that sends the message I require. I attach it to the email and hesitate. Hercules all but gave permission for this. He wants to cause his father pain, and he’s willing to play whipping boy to ensure it happens. Meg and I have our own reputations and this video will do nothing to damage them, even if it’s shared widely. And I highly doubt it will be shared. That’s not what this is about. It’s simply to reinforce my message to Zeus.
Your son belongs to me.
He does, albeit in a way I never could have anticipated. Becoming entangled in Hercules, allowing him to attach himself to the one relationship I value above all others… I only meant for it to be temporary. A fix to bind Meg and I together until we could find our footing again. I never expected for him to fit in a way that could work in the long term. I can’t say I’m sorry it’s happened. Because he does fit. He softens our sharp edges and makes us stronger as a unit.
And I care about him.
Perhaps that is what’s causing this strange hesitation. I protect what’s mine, regardless of the reason it came under my influence. I should have anticipated my instincts fighting against my actions. Hercules knows what he signed on for. Even if he doesn’t, there is no turning back now. I’ve gone too far, come too close. It’s not a true balancing of the scales, but it’s close enough. Fifteen years ago, I would have killed Hercules at the beginning and been done with it. I’m not sure I’ve changed for the better, regardless of how much I enjoy the ultimate outcome.
My body moves before my mind can alter course. I click to send the email. My careful exhale doesn’t make me feel better about what I’ve done. I have no use for guilt. I don’t torment myself with it the same way my two lovers do. What’s done is done and that’s the end of it.
At least for now.
My phone rings. I know who it is even before I answer. “Yes?”
He doesn’t make me wait long. “Release him.”
Satisfaction curls through me, the perfect counterpoint to the tension in his tone. I smile and lean back in my chair. “I don’t think I will. He so enjoys being trapped by me.”
“That is my son’s throat you have your cock shoved down in this video.” He pauses and, when he speaks again, a false calm bleeds into his words. “He’s a good boy, Hades.”
“Yes, he’s a very good boy.”
He growls at the innuendo. “You have a problem with me, you come at me.”
I could laugh. I wrap up the urge and tuck it away. “You know better. An eye for an eye. You should be grateful I’m not going to kill him the same way you murdered my son.”
“Better he be fucking murdered than in your bed.” His volume increases with every word. “I won’t stand for this, Hades. You have twelve fucking hours to return him to me or you’ll pay the price.”
“I’ve already paid the price in spades, old friend.” I hang up.
The expected jubilation never arrives. Instead, Zeus’s words play back to me. You’ll pay the price. A threat, and I’m not fool enough to ignore it. Neither am I inclined to return Hercules to him. The man made his choice, for better or worse, and now we’re all going to live with it. He chose us, not his family, not Olympus.
This is exactly what I wanted when I set out on this path. Zeus enraged enough to come for me.
Still… It may be prudent to make security aware of a possible threat to our people. I send a quick text to Allecto. She’ll ensure all precautions are covered. There have been a few missteps in recent months, but none of those involved allowing people into the building who aren’t supposed to be there. Several guests have abused my hospitality, but that is an altogether different problem. We’re a fortress in the form of a skyscraper. Zeus cannot touch us here.
I push back from my desk, a nervous energy zinging through my old bones. Even knowing better, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve made a mistake somewhere along the way. That perhaps I should have turned my back on this final vengeance, no matter how tempered. I walk to the closest bookshelf and pull out an old copy of Aesop’s Fables. It’s weathered and aged and holding it in my hands brings a dull ache to my chest even after all this time. It’s a reminder of another life. I flip open the cover and there they are. My lost ones.
I hear her behind me, her footsteps as familiar as my own. “I used to read this book to my son every night. He was too young to understand, but it calmed him.”
Meg stops. “You never told me about them.” She can’t quite keep the accusation out of her voice.
“It still hurts to talk about them. It’s easier to force forgetfulness.”
She takes another step, moving around the desk to stand at my shoulder. “But you didn’t really forget them, Hades. Not if you’ve been spinning out this plan for revenge.”
She’s not wrong. “Would you believe that I wanted to spare us both pain?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t make it right.” She wraps her arms around herself. “Don’t you think the time for that has long since passed?”
I shift to include her in this painful walk down memory lane. Meg moves until her arm presses against mine. I tilt the book. “This is one of the few pictures I have of them. The others were lost.” I mourned that loss for a long time, but perhaps it’s for the best. Better to let their ghosts rest, to let the memory fade. It doesn’t cease to cause pain, but it’s not a constant low hum in the back of my mind.
“May I?”
I hand her the picture. As she studies the photo, I study her face. What does she see? A pretty young blond woman with a baby boy in her arms. They’re wearing white, which only adds to the surreal nature of the entire thing. Meg finally looks at me, her blue eyes shining. “They’re beautiful.”
“They were, yes.”
She carefully passes back the picture, and I replace it inside the book. Meg is obviously working up to something, so I slide the book back into the shelf and give her a moment to find her voice. This is a conversation we should have had long ago, and it’s only my reluctance to open old wounds that delayed it. A mistake. I see that now.