Hades returned to Persephone, who woke as he arrived. When she saw him, she froze.
His body still hummed with the violence he’d executed on Pirithous, and he hated that she could feel it.
“You went to Tartarus,” she said.
He didn’t respond, and she rose to her feet, taking his face into her hands.
“Are you well?” she asked, and he leaned into her touch, holding her bright gaze like it was a beacon for his soul.
“No,” he admitted, and they held each other tight, unwilling to let go. “Ilias and Zofie found the woman who assaulted you,” he finally said when he felt more like himself.
“Zofie?” Persephone sounded confused.
“She has been helping Ilias.”
“Where is the woman?” she asked.
“She is being held at Iniquity.”
“Will you take me to her?”
“I’d rather you sleep,” he said.
“I do not want to sleep.”
“Even if I stay?”
“There are people out there attacking goddesses,” Persephone said. “I’d rather hear what she has to say.”
He frowned, his fingers twined in her hair, uncertain if this was too much, too soon. They could wait, confront the woman tomorrow.
“I’m okay, Hades,” she assured. “You will be with me.”
He only hoped he could be what she needed. It was clear to him that he hadn’t been prior to this.
Finally, he relented. “Then we will do as you wish.”
Ilias and Zofie had taken the woman to Iniquity, where she sat beneath a stream of yellow light, held in place by venomous snakes. Despite the hatred she exuded, she remained still as stone, too fearful of a venomous bite and imminent death.
Hades wondered then why she’d felt emboldened to attack his lover.
As much as he wanted to take over this encounter, he understood it was not his to control, so he let Persephone lead, and she did so without fear, stepping close until she edged the light.
“I do not need to tell you why you are here,” Persephone said.
“Will you kill me?” the woman asked.
“I am not the Goddess of Retribution,” Persephone said.
“You did not answer my question.”
“I am not the one being questioned.”
The woman’s mouth tightened.
“What’s your name?” Persephone asked.
The woman lifted her chin and replied, “Lara.”
“Lara, why did you attack me in the Coffee House?”
“Because you were there and I wanted you to hurt.”
Hades’s fists clenched. He wanted to hurt her.
“Why?”
The why did not matter; it was the fact that she had.
The snakes reacted to Hades’s own anger, hissing violently as they lifted their heads and bared their fangs. Lara closed her eyes and prepared for the bite.
“Not yet,” Persephone said, and the snakes stilled. When the woman opened her eyes and met her gaze, Persephone spoke. “I asked you a question.”
There was a moment of silence, and then the woman broke. “Because you represent everything that is wrong with this world,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “You think you stand for justice because you wrote some angry words in a newspaper, but they mean nothing! Your actions are by far more telling—you, like so many, have merely fallen into the same trap. You are a sheep, corralled by Olympian glamour.”
This woman had been hurt by a god. Hades knew it and Persephone knew it.
“What happened to you?” Persephone asked.
“I was raped,” she seethed quietly. “By Zeus.”
Hades wished he could say he was shocked by her answer, but the fact that he wasn’t made him feel disgusted with himself. His brothers had existed in this role for some time, using their power to coerce and force women to do their bidding. And while they had faced some consequences, they were nothing compared to what they deserved, which was imprisonment and torture in Tartarus.
Hades had sworn he would see that through, but victory was a long and tedious road with victims of its own.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Persephone said and took a step forward.
Hades sent the snakes away.
“Don’t,” Lara hissed. “I do not want your pity.”
“I am not offering pity,” Persephone said. “But I would like to help you.”
“How can you help me?”
Hades wasn’t sure they could even if they wanted to. Her hate was rooted deep, and no one could blame her.
“I know you did not do anything to deserve what happened to you,” Persephone started, but Lara was already shaking her head.
“Your words mean nothing while gods are still able to hurt.”
“How would you have Zeus punished?” Hades asked.
Persephone and Lara looked at him, surprised, but Hades waited for her answer.
“I would have him torn apart limb by limb and his body burned,” Lara said, her voice shaking with menace. “I would have his soul fracture into millions of pieces until nothing was left but the whisper of his screams echoing in the wind.”
“And you think you can bring that justice?” he asked.
She had to know she was not capable of such retribution, so she had to have someone else in mind.
“Not me. Gods,” she said. “New ones. It will be a rebirth.”
New gods. Rebirth.
Those were words used by Harmonia’s attackers too.
“No,” Hades said. “It will be a massacre—and it will not be us who dies. It will be you.”
“What happened to you was horrible,” Persephone said, her hand threading through his. “And you are right that Zeus should be punished. Will you not let us help you?”
“There is no hope for me.”
“There is always hope,” Persephone said. “It is all we have.”
Hades looked down at Persephone. “Ilias, take Miss Sotir to Hemlock Grove. She will be safe there.”
The woman stiffened. “So you will imprison me?”
“No,” he said. “Hemlock Grove is a safe house. The goddess Hecate runs the facility for abused women and children. She will want to hear your story if you wish to tell her. Beyond that, you may do as you please.”
Hades squeezed Persephone’s hand as he took her back to the Underworld.
CHAPTER XX
HADES
Hades saw Persephone to work at Alexandria Tower, which was harder than he expected given the night they’d had. It was evident Persephone was exhausted, and though Hades was used to not sleeping, even he felt drained.
He returned to the Underworld and went in search of Hecate, finding her in her cottage.
“Is that blood?” he asked, because whatever was in the jar at the center of her table definitely looked like blood.
“It is,” she said simply. “Do you want it?”
“I most definitely do not want a jar of blood, Hecate.”
“It’s your brother’s,” she said, her voice taking on an enticing tone.
“My brother?”
“From the castration,” she said.
“I see Lara’s story filled you with rage,” he said.
“As it should you,” she said.
It did. The only thing he struggled to forgive was what she’d done to Persephone.
Hades picked up the jar for a closer look, noting that two shriveled testicles also floated in the mixture.
“Hecate,” Hades said, setting the jar down again. “What are you going to do with this?”
“Keep it,” she said. Her back was still to him as she packed small bags with herbs to make tea.
“As a trophy?” Hades inquired.
“You know the dangers of god blood,” she said.
“There’s more than blood in that jar, Hecate,” he said.
“I’m aware,” she said, turning to face him. “They are also dangerous, whether attached to his body or not.”
Hades knew the dangers. God blood was also called ichor, and it was poisonous to mortals. If it managed to drop to the earth, it had the potential to create other divine creatures or even divine herbs. Really, the possibilities were endless and unknown.
Testicles had the same power, though they often gave birth to gods or goddesses.
“Here,” the goddess said, handing him some tea bags. Hades studied the pouches and then lifted one to his nose to smell.
“What is it?”
“It should help you and Persephone sleep,” she said.
Hades frowned and then set the tea aside.
“What’s wrong?” Hecate asked.
“Nothing,” he said and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Do not nothing me,” she said. “Tell me what happened just now in that little brain of yours.”
Hades narrowed his eyes on Hecate, arching a brow, but he couldn’t maintain the guise of frustration for too long. The burden of Persephone’s nightmares was too much.
“I worried over her sleep when I think I should have worried over her nightmares,” Hades said. “I do not know what else to do to help her. Pirithous haunts her, and there is no pattern or consistency. Some nights, she wakes me up. Other nights, I’m afraid to sleep for fear I won’t be able to help her. But last night, I tried and…”
His voice trailed off and he swallowed, unable to continue.
“You cannot help her confront a nightmare, Hades,” Hecate said softly.
He ground his teeth.
“She should not even have to face this,” he said. “She should have been safe where she worked.”
“I do not disagree,” she said. “Such is the world for women in a society dominated by men, even for those of us with great power.”
“It must end.”
It was all he could think to say.
“As all things must,” she said, and then she picked up the tea and handed it back to him. “Perhaps you should speak with Hypnos about Persephone.”
Hades stiffened. “Hypnos is an asshole.”
He was certainly not at all like his brother, Thanatos.
“He is an asshole to you.”
“He’s only nice to you because you bring him mushrooms,” Hades said.
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Do not critique my methods,” she said. “At least I manage to get what I want.”
Hades’s brows furrowed. “What do you want from Hypnos?”
“Use of the Oneiroi, of course,” she said.
The Oneiroi were winged daimons who sometimes invaded dreams. If Hecate was asking for them, she was likely haunting a few unfortunate souls.
Hades just used Hermes for that.
“If you wish to help Persephone, then he is worth a visit,” she said. “But do not go without an offering.”
Hades sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. This was fucking ridiculous. Hypnos lived in his realm. That should be enough of an offering.
“It would be if he actually liked it here,” Hecate said.
That was not Hades’s fault. Hypnos was the one who agreed to help Hera put Zeus to sleep the last time she tried to overthrow him, which was how he ended up as a resident of the Underworld.
“Do not be so difficult,” Hecate said. “Think of Persephone.”
“I always think of Persephone.”
“Then stop pouting and find the God of Sleep a gift.”
Hades rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine. I’ll get him a gods-damned gift.”
Hecate smiled. “That’s a good boy.”
Hades didn’t even honor her response with a glare and vanished.