“But it is in your nature to appease me,” she said, and her words drew his attention to her face as they came to the end of the hallway, pausing in a small kitchen with a too-bright fluorescent light overhead.
Still, he held Persephone’s gaze and offered her a small smile.
“Alas,” he said quietly. “You are my greatest weakness.”
She watched him, a wealth of feeling flooding her gaze.
If she looked at him like that too long, he really would fuck her in this house.
“Wine?” Sybil squeezed between them as she came into the kitchen, heading straight for the bar. She obviously knew what everyone would need to get through this night since Ben insisted on staying.
“Please,” Persephone said.
“For you, Hades?”
“Whiskey…whatever you have is fine. Neat.” He paused, noticing the look Persephone cast his way, but he couldn’t tell what prompted her displeasure. “Please?”
Perhaps he should have summoned his own alcohol.
“Neat?” Hades could not help but cringe when he heard the mortal’s voice. Perhaps it was because he knew every time the man opened his mouth, he would say something stupid. “Real whiskey drinkers at least add water.”
There was a horrible silence in the room that everyone seemed to notice, save Ben. Persephone and Sybil froze, wide-eyed as they waited for Hades to retaliate.
He looked at the mortal, voice dripping with a disdain he felt blacken his heart.
“I add the blood of mortals,” he said.
Which was a joke, except that Hades was tempted to test it and have Ben be the first sacrifice.
Fuck, he had never hated someone so much in his life.
“Of course, Hades,” Sybil said as if she had not heard Ben or Hades’s reply. She chose a bottle from the many cluttering the counter and offered the whole thing. “You’ll probably need it.”
He smiled at her, as warmly as he could. “Thank you, Sybil,” he said, already loosening the cap to drink straight from the bottle.
“So how did you meet Ben?” Persephone asked as Sybil poured her a glass of wine.
Hades considered answering for her—the fucker was a stalker—but before she could even get a word out, Ben spoke.
“We met at Four Olives where I work. It was love at first sight for me.”
Persephone made a strange sound as she choked on her wine, though Hades had to admit he was pleased with himself.
He hadn’t been wrong.
Sybil gave them both a desperate look. It was evident she had tried to put this mortal where he belonged. The issue was she thought she could make him a friend, but he didn’t even belong in that zone.
He belonged in jail.
Or Tartarus.
Hades would take either one.
A knock interrupted the awful silence.
“Thank the gods,” Sybil said, darting to the door.
Hades imagined she was eager to fill the house with other people to drown out Ben’s annoying voice.
“I know she isn’t convinced yet,” Ben said when they were alone. “But it’s only a matter of time.”
“What makes you so sure?” Persephone asked, and while Hades could hear the revulsion in her voice, the mortal did not seem to notice.
Instead, he preened, squaring his shoulders and lifting his head in pride.
Hades was already rolling his eyes.
“I’m an oracle.”
“Oh fuck,” he said, unamused.
Persephone elbowed him, but it wasn’t as if Ben was deterred. He had no ability to sense emotion beyond pride in himself.
Still, Hades could not take much more of this. He needed distance from this fucker who he refused to call by name.
“If you’ll excuse me.”
He glanced at Persephone as he left the kitchen and wandered into the adjacent living room, sipping from the whiskey Sybil had so kindly given him. His only wish was that he could get drunk because tonight, he needed it.
He could still hear Ben from across the room as he leaned toward Persephone—an action that made Hades want to rip his head off. Hades let himself imagine it, what it would be like and feel like, just to calm down.
“I don’t think he likes me,” Ben said.
Persephone arched a brow, replying unenthusiastically, “Whatever gave you that idea?”
Hades tuned them out for a moment as he observed Sybil’s space. It was cozy but sparse—evident that she was starting over. Despite the fact that they were gathering tonight to celebrate her new chapter, Hades knew none of them were completely happy, well aware that the reason they were all here was because one of them was gone.
Lexa’s death had changed everything.
He still felt guilty over how he handled Persephone. He had failed to be there for her through Lexa’s time in the hospital, failed to prepare her for a death that he had not realized would be so devastating.
You’ve been the God of the Underworld so long, you’ve forgotten what it is really like to be on the brink of losing someone.
But even as she had spoken those words, he had felt like he was losing her.
“Sephy!” Hermes’s voice tore through his thoughts, and he turned to see the God of Mischief enter the kitchen, two bottles of alcohol in each hand. He set them down before dragging her against him for a hug. “You smell like Hades…and sex,” he declared, which, despite feeling a little guilty, made Hades chuckle.
“Stop being creepy, Hermes!” Persephone seethed.
Amusement ignited the god’s eyes as he released her and turned to Ben with intrigue. Hades groaned inwardly. Why did Hermes have to be attracted to literally everyone? He supposed it didn’t matter. Once the fucker opened his mouth, Hermes’s interest would cease.
“Oh, and who is this?”
“This is Ben. Sybil’s…” Persephone hesitated, apparently uncertain of how to describe the stalker. It didn’t matter, anyway, because neither one of them was paying attention.
“Hermes, right?” Ben asked.
Hermes looked bright with pride. “So you’ve heard of me?”
Hades offered a humorless laugh as he took another drink. The comment was absurd—there wasn’t a mortal alive who didn’t know the God of Mischief.
“Of course,” the mortal replied. “Are you still the Messenger of the Gods or do they use email?”
Hades tried to hide his smile as he turned toward the window, pulling back a single curtain that had been tacked to the wall as he listened to Hermes’s snappy reply.
“It’s Lord Hermes to you,” he said.
Whatever followed was lost to Hades as he observed the weather. The snow was heavier, and now and then, ice tapped against the window.
The storm was worsening by the hour.
“Well, well, well,” Hermes announced, his voice closer than before. “Look who decided to darken the corner—literally.”
Hades turned from the window and watched the god approach.
Hermes stabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Can you believe that mortal?” he asked, then spoke in a mocking tone. “Do the gods use email? Fucker.”
Hades found himself chuckling again.
Hermes glared. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t antiquated too. Weren’t you replaced by murder?”
“That’s…no, Hermes,” said Hades.
“I mean, the audacity!”
“You know, true revenge would be to not let him know he’s gotten under your skin,” said Hades.
“You’re only saying that for your benefit.”
Hades shrugged and took a drink.
“The fucker thinks he is an oracle. Let him offer false prophecies and find himself at the mercy of Hecate.”
Hades was not certain which god the mortal claimed to speak for or if he only claimed to see visions. Either way, Hecate despised anyone who alleged false power.
“Summon her,” said Hermes, and then his voice darkened. “I want to see him burn.”
Hades did not respond, though he enjoyed thinking about the scene Hecate would make inside Sybil’s small apartment if he called for her to punish the false prophet.
“Did you speak with Dionysus?” Hades asked.
“No,” said Hermes.
Hades glared.
“You said soon, not right this minute,” Hermes defended.
Hades continued to stare.
“Fine. I’ll go tonight.”
His gaze was unwavering.
“If you think I’m leaving this party without playing drinking games, you’re fucking insane. Oh wait, you are.” Hermes crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”
“Because I have to talk to Apollo,” said Hades. “Unless you want the task?”
“Hmm, no. Apollo still hasn’t forgiven me for stealing his cattle.”
“Again? ” Hades asked.
“No, just that one time. You know, when I was a baby.”
“I thought you settled that,” said Hades.
If he recalled correctly, it was how Apollo had obtained his first lyre, which he now used as one of his symbols of power.
“We did,” said Hermes. “But you know how grudges work.”
There was another knock at the door, and this time, Helen entered.
Hades was not as familiar with the young mortal, except for what Persephone had communicated, which was mostly to say that she was beautiful and a hard worker.
“This weather,” she said as she entered. “It’s almost…unnatural.”
“Yes, it’s awful,” said Persephone.
Hades’s chest tightened, noting the worry etched across Persephone’s face.
It wasn’t going to get any better either. The tap of ice on the window was only increasing.
Leuce and Zofie were the last to arrive. Apparently, the two had decided it was a good idea to live together, though from what Hades had heard from Ilias, it was rather disastrous. Leuce had only just returned to her physical form after being a tree for centuries, and Zofie…Zofie was born and bred to be a warrior. Her instinct was to kill when something did not go her way, which meant she spent a lot of time destroying things for no reason.
Like the vending machines at Alexandria Tower.
They both had a lot to learn about society.
Of the two, Hades expected Leuce to act uncomfortable in his presence. After all, he had been the one to turn her into a tree, but it was Zofie who froze when she spotted him.
“My lord!” she exclaimed and swept into a stiff bow.
“You don’t have to do that here, Zofie,” Persephone said, though Hades was not opposed. He found it strange that the Amazon insisted on bowing to him but not Persephone, who was technically her mistress, but he knew his goddess would be uncomfortable with that considering they were among…friends.
“But…he is the Lord of the Underworld!” Zofie said.
Hermes scoffed. “We’re all aware. Look at him—he’s the only goth in the room.” Hades scowled at the god who offered a sheepish grin and left Hades’s side, declaring, “Since everyone’s here, let’s play a game!”
“What’s the game?” Helen asked. “Poker?”
“No!”
The reply came from almost everyone in the room—even Persephone.
Hades glowered.