Later, he awoke suddenly to find he was alone. He sat up and looked around the room, but Persephone was gone. For a brief moment, he thought she had left the Underworld entirely, but he could feel her here, so he rose and went in search of her. As he stepped into the dim halls of his palace, he smelled warm cocoa and knew he would find her in the kitchen. She had a habit of baking when she was stressed, and it was only now that he realized she had not done so since she’d taught him how to make sugar cookies at her apartment.
He moved through the dining room, where he found Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus resting near the door to the kitchen. They looked up as he passed, and he entered, finding Persephone on the floor of the kitchen, sitting with her knees pressed to her chest, staring into the oven, its yellow light illuminating her somber face.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, and she turned toward him looking very much exhausted and sad. He knew she was thinking of Lexa.
“No,” she said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“You didn’t wake me. Your absence did,” he answered truthfully.
“I’m sorry,” she said, frowning.
“Don’t be—especially if it means you are baking.”
He sat beside her on the floor and stared into the oven window for a few seconds before looking down at her and finding her watching him.
“You know I can help you sleep,” he said, voice low.
“The cake isn’t finished,” she whispered in reply.
He could tell she was exhausted, that she wanted to sleep.
“I would never let it burn,” he promised and placed his arm around her shoulder as her head rested against his chest. It wasn’t long before she was asleep, and he drew her into his arms and carried her back to bed before returning to the kitchen just in time to have an alarm go off.
The sound startled him, and he turned swiftly toward a small white timer Persephone had left on top of the oven. It was still ringing when he picked it up and tried to silence it, except that the knob came off in his hand.
“What the fuck?” he said and set it back down, covering it with a bowl to try to muffle the sound, but as soon as he did, everything went quiet. “Fucking Fates,” he muttered, turning his attention to the cake and then shifting his gaze around the kitchen, realizing he had no idea where anything was stored.
If I were oven mitts, where would I be?he thought, opening cabinet doors and drawers until he found a pair…except that they did not fit his hands.
“Gods-dammit,” he cursed.
Why was this so fucking difficult?
He searched the drawer for another option but did not find one. He supposed he would have to make do with what he had.
He opened the oven, and a wave of heat accosted his face, causing his eyes to sting. He reached inside in an attempt to pull the cake forward on the rack, but his knuckles hit the top, instantly burning them.
“Ouch!” He pulled back and growled.
This time, he tried shoving his hand inside the mitt, but only his thumb and forefinger fit. Still, it was better than nothing. As he reached in once more, he pinched the edge of the pan, dragging it off the rack, when it slipped. Without a second thought, he reached to catch it between his bare hands.
“Motherfucker!” he yelled, managing to toss the cake onto the oven.
He stood there for a moment while the pain throbbed in his hands before sending a shock of magic to heal his blisters.
“Fucking cake,” he said, glaring at it. “You better be delicious.”
Chapter XIX
Helios Is an Asshole
It had felt like an age since Hades had managed to handle anything related to the Graeae and Medusa, between Hera’s tasks and Persephone’s struggle with losing Lexa. He needed to make plans to lure Helios into helping him locate the sisters, but before he did that, he wanted a moment with Leuce.
The next day, he manifested outside the nymph’s apartment door and knocked furiously until the door cracked open. He knew he had just woken her from sleep. She was bleary-eyed, and her white hair was a tangled mess.
“Good morning, Leuce,” Hades said, pushing open the door.
The nymph stumbled back, tugging her robe around her.
“Ha-Hades,” she said. “What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me truthfully,” he said. “Did you give Persephone the password to Iniquity?”
She was silent.
“Tell me!” Hades yelled.
“What else was I supposed to do?” she demanded. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see her crumble!”
Hades blanched. “What are you talking about?”
Leuce huffed a sigh. “She had a panic attack while we were out because of something that happened to her friend. The one in the hospital. It scared her, Hades. I don’t have much, but I wanted to help, so excuse me for trying!”
“You sent her to Iniquity for help,” he said.
Despite the fact that Leuce had not been in the modern world long, she understood the purpose of Iniquity and knew it was not a place he’d want Persephone to know about. It was hard for him to believe that she thought sending her there was a sound decision, rather than believing it might create a divide. “You could have had coffee!”
“We did, you idiot bastard!” Leuce seethed. “How dare you think a hot drink will cure what she’s going through!”
There was no curing this, he wanted to yell. Therein lay the problem—Persephone was grieving.
“You expect me to believe you sent Persephone to a Magi because you wanted to help?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That you sent her into a trap!”
“Because I could never do something nice for someone, is that it?”
“How many times do I have to say, sending Persephone to a Magi was dangerous. Not to mention you knew I would find out. Were you hoping to create a divide between us?”
She had already tried once when she had introduced herself as his lover. Hades had suspected then that her intention was to cause trouble. Why should he believe any differently now?
“This is why our relationship never worked! You never trusted me.”
“Obviously, I had good reason.”
Leuce turned and reached for the nearest object—a winged statue—which she flung at Hades, who dodged it. “Get out!” she yelled as it crashed into the wall behind him.
Hades straightened slowly, glaring at Leuce.
“Fine, but mark my words, Leuce. I will find out who you are working for. In the meantime, stay away from Persephone.”
* * *
Upon leaving Leuce’s apartment, Hades returned to the Underworld and now stood among fifty heads of snowy-white cattle. When he had taken them from Helios, he’d only intended to choose the best among his herd, but he had run out of time, so he’d stolen them all. Later, Helios would refuse to drive his golden chariot through the sky if Hades did not return them, and Zeus thought it such a threat that he called Council over the ordeal.
In the end, Hades refused to return the cattle, and the sun still shone. Though, Hades had to admit, he did not exactly understand what it meant to suddenly own fifty new animals.
“You all stink,” he said. “I will never understand why Helios likes all of you so much.”
“I think they’re wonderful,” Hecate had said when he brought them back. She’d been so ecstatic, she’d named each one and made garlands for their necks, though Hades could not tell them apart. Now all he really needed was to choose the best among them so he could lure Helios into helping him locate the Graeae and maybe even Medusa, though he feared bringing up the powerful gorgon. He did not trust the God of the Sun.
How did one choose a prized cow?
He turned in a circle while they grazed around him, looking for signs of superiority, but he was at a loss. They were all the same color and the same build, as if Helios had merely made clones. Perhaps this was a job for Hecate, who seemed to appreciate the finer details and differences of the animals she took responsibility for, though before he could summon her, his eyes caught on Thanatos approaching almost apprehensively.
It was strange enough that Hades stopped and stared. Thanatos’s presence was always vibrant despite his black robes and his pale face and hair, and while he never looked particularly overjoyed, he did always look serene and peaceful.
Except today.
Today he looked stricken, which put Hades on edge.
“Thanatos,” he said as the god drew nearer, his heart hammering hard in his chest.
“Lord Hades. I…” Thanatos paused and took a breath, then began again. “I went to see Lexa today. To…prepare for the next phase. It’s…almost time.”
Hades swallowed hard. He had no words, because there was nothing to say. As much as he did not want this for Persephone, it was the way of things. Lexa had made her decision, and it would be hard to grasp, given that Persephone would never quite understand why Lexa would choose to leave her.
“While I was there, Persephone…”
Thanatos’s voice trailed off, and instead of speaking, he chose to project his magic into Hades’s mind. What he saw play out before him shocked him. He could see Persephone through Thanatos’s eyes, demanding, “You’re working. I want to know who you’re here to take.”
“I can’t tell you that,” Thanatos responded.
Persephone’s gaze flashed, and three words slipped from her mouth like a weapon.
“I command you.”
“Persephone.” Hades could hear the desperation in Thanatos’s voice. Those words had hurt the God of Death because they had communicated Persephone’s mistrust of him, and despite the fact that she did not want Lexa’s soul reaped, all Thanatos was trying to do was make the process comforting.
“I won’t let you take her,” Persephone snapped.
“If there were another way—”
Thanatos felt desperate to communicate to Persephone, to help her understand he was not the enemy but Lexa’s advocate, and her soul had called to him, had decided it was time to leave.
“There is another way, and it involves you leaving!”
Then she pushed him, and Hades did not know whose shock he felt more acutely—Thanatos’s or his own.
“Get out.”
“Enough!” Hades shouted, and the images vanished from his mind.
A heavy silence followed. Hades stood still as a stone, processing what he had just seen. His feelings raged, a storm of emotions that he couldn’t quite place. In that moment, he had seen Persephone’s raw fear, but he had also seen a side of her that was angry and a little manipulative.
The greater issue was that she was still trying to stop Lexa’s inevitable death.
“How long does she have?” Hades asked.
“A day,” Thanatos replied. “Maybe two.”
Another long bout of silence.
“She’s ready, Hades,” Thanatos added softly, and the note in his voice was exhausted.
Hades could just imagine that was how Lexa felt. She was tired.
He could do nothing but nod.
“Reap when you are ready, Thanatos,” Hades instructed. And I will deal with Persephone, he thought, even as he dreaded the encounter. She would not understand, though there was a part of him that did not understand either. He liked Lexa, knew that she was a good friend to Persephone. Every interaction they’d had was fun and pleasant. Despite this, the girl still wanted to leave, but Hades was not one to deny pure souls, and he would not deny this one rest, even if it hurt Persephone more than anything in the world.
Hades approached Thanatos, placing a hand on his shoulder. He had hoped it was a reassuring gesture, but the contact only made his dread deepen because he could sense the chaotic emotions in the god’s energy.
“I’m sorry, Hades,” Thanatos said, and it was a reminder that despite their familiarity with death, some things never got any easier.
Hades left the meadow and made his return to the palace on foot to give himself time to process what he had seen through Thanatos’s eyes. By the time he made it to the throne room, he was no closer to releasing that strange frustration, disappointment, and pain. He considered how often he had talked to Persephone about this, how he’d attempted to prepare her for the possibility of Lexa’s death and still she seemed determined to prevent it, and that worried him far more than anything else, because she had already tried to bargain in exchange for Lexa’s life.
Perhaps she needed to hear the consequences from the King of the Underworld, not her lover.
He sat on his throne, hands curled around the arms, closed his eyes, and searched for the familiar pull between them, the strange link he shared with no one else. He always knew when he found her because he felt instantly at peace, as if he were somehow more complete. This time, as he latched on to her magic, he pulled her to him, teleporting her to his realm.
It was, for the most part, a move designed to illustrate his power, and when she appeared in the dark-reddish light of his throne room, she looked severe, angry, and hurt. She didn’t even speak to him when she arrived before she was already attempting to teleport. When her magic did not work, she snapped.
“You cannot just remove me from the Upperworld when you please!”
“You are lucky I removed you and not the Furies.”
“Send me back, Hades!” Her voice was raw with anger. It was a tone he had never really heard from her before, but grief was strange, and it transformed emotions into monsters. For Persephone, it also made her magic riot. It boiled between them, thickening the air, and he wondered what she would do with all that energy building inside her. Would flowers bloom at her feet, or would vines burst from the floors?
“No.”
He wouldn’t keep her against her will, but he wasn’t going to let her leave until they discussed how she had treated Thanatos. Persephone’s magic seemed to have other ideas, and he felt it ripple and watched in horror as thorns erupted from Persephone’s skin like blades—at her shoulder, her side, and her calves. She was immediately covered in blood, and she sank to her knees with a cry. Hades’s shock brought him to his feet, and he raced down the precipice to her side.
“Stop!” she sobbed, shaking from her pain. “Don’t come any closer!”
There was no fucking way he was going to leave her alone. She’d nearly exploded in a bloody heap of thorns, and he didn’t think that was an exaggeration. Her magic had done this. It had gained power from her anger, and when it had nowhere to go, it just manifested like this.
He knelt beside her, unsure of what to do. She had gone so pale, and it was made worse by the light, which made her blood look black.
“Fuck, Persephone. How long has your magic been manifesting like this?”
“Don’t you ever listen?” The words slipped from between her clenched teeth.
“I could ask the same of you,” he said humorlessly as he lifted his hand, intent on healing her, though he hesitated a moment, waiting for her to protest. The pain must have won out because she said nothing.
He winced as he placed his hand on the first wound. The thorn was sharp and wet from her blood, the skin around it shredded. He gritted his teeth as it healed and moved to the next one on her side, then the two that protruded from her calves. When he was finished, he sat back, hating the feel of her blood on his hands so much, they shook.
“How long have you kept this from me?” he asked, knowing it had not gotten this bad overnight.
Has she told Hecate?he wondered.
“I’ve been a little distracted in case you haven’t noticed,” she replied bitterly, her breathing still not quite right. “What do you want, Hades?”
She sounded defeated as she spoke, and the tone of her voice put Hades more on edge. He felt as though she were pulling away from him once more, but this time it was worse. It should have made him desperate, but instead, he was angry.
“Your behavior toward Thanatos was atrocious. You will apologize.”
She glared. “Why should I? He was going to take Lexa! Worse, he tried to hide it from me!”
“He was doing his job, Persephone.”
“Killing my friend isn’t a job! It’s murder!”
That word—kill—he hated it. It tore through him like an arrow to the heart. She acted as if he wanted this to be Lexa’s fate, as if she’d forgotten who exactly he was.
“You know it isn’t murder! Keeping her alive for your own benefit isn’t a kindness,” he hissed. It was the harshest he’d ever been with her. “She is in pain, and you are prolonging it.”
“No, you are prolonging it. You could heal her, but you have chosen not to help me!”
“You want me to bargain with the Fates so that she might survive? So you can have the death of another on your conscience? Murder doesn’t suit you, goddess.”
Throwing the word back at her must have hit her just as hard because she tried to hit him, but he caught her hand and pulled her close. The blood that coated his palm was drying and felt sticky as he held her. Being this close added another level to his pain, as it reminded him of the night before, when they had come together so passionately.
Was this their love? These two extremes that felt so desperate all the time?
Then her hand curled into a fist, and her head fell against his chest as she began to cry.
“I don’t know how to lose someone, Hades.”
It was moments like this when he realized that his heart no longer belonged to him.
“I know,” he said, taking her face into his hands. “But running from it won’t help, Persephone. You are just delaying the inevitable.”
“Hades, please,” she said, desperate, and then whispered, “What if it were me?”
No.
He released her. “I refuse to entertain such a thought.”
“You cannot tell me you wouldn’t break every Divine law in existence for me.”
Hades’s power preened at the thought.
“Make no mistake, my lady, I would burn this world for you.”
He had said it before, but perhaps she did not quite understand what that meant. There were no rules, Divine or otherwise, when it came to her. She was the exception. It did not matter that no one else thought so. He did, and he was the end.
“But that is a burden I am willing to carry. Can you say the same?”
She did not speak, and he was not surprised. Likely she was thinking of all those threads burned into his skin, though that was not even the worst part.
The worst part was the guilt.
“I will give you one more day to say goodbye to Lexa. That is the only compromise I can offer. You should be thankful I’m offering that.”
* * *