They were lying in the grass beneath a twisted oak. She knew this place. They had been here before—they had rested and made love beneath this tree. It was at the very edge of Elysium. If she were to sit up, she would see the gray waves of the ocean cresting the horizon.
“Where are you?” she asked.
He laughed as he studied her with those dark eyes, his body pressed against hers.
“I’m right here,” he said. “With you.”
She shook her head, her vision blurring with tears.
She knew otherwise.
“Darling,” he said, his voice a low rumble, his fingers in her hair. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes tight, focusing on the feel of his kiss, warm and heavy.
Real.
When he pulled away, he let his nose drift along hers.
“It was just a dream,” he said, and she opened her eyes again.
“You speak as if you live inside my mind,” she said.
Hades stared at her and frowned, his eyes drifting to her lips, and she was suddenly aware of a keen hunger tightening her stomach.
“What will it take? To prove to you this is real?”
“Nothing you do will convince me,” she said. “Unless you can tell me where you are.”
He was quiet, watching her.
Then he leaned closer, and the air between them felt heavier than his weight on her body.
“Lost,” he answered before his mouth dropped to hers.
His kiss was like a brand that seared her skin. She opened her mouth against his, and his tongue slipped inside.
He tasted different, his mouth devoid of that smoky, sweet edge, but he smelled the same, sharp and earthy, like long shadows cast by firelight. She tried not to think about the change and what it meant.
He pulled away again, but she could still feel the brush of his lips against hers as he spoke. She kept her eyes closed as he whispered, “Live in this moment with me.”
Her resistance melted away, broken by the same plea she had made before. Her mouth collided with his, and her arms went around him, hands pressing into his back, bringing his entire body flush with hers.
As they kissed, Hades moved against her and she lifted her hips, needing to feel him where she ached the most. Each lush stroke coaxed a fire beneath her skin and stole a little more of her breath. By the time he left her mouth, she was ready for him, so aware of how empty she felt.
“Hades.” She breathed his name as his lips trailed along her jaw and down her throat before he buried his face between her breasts, hands gripping. Her fingers sifted through his hair, tightening when his teeth grazed one nipple, then the other through the fabric of her dress.
Finally, he looked up.
His eyes were dark but just as brilliant as they were when he was in his true form. They possessed a fire of their own, a liveliness that only erupted when he was looking at her. She felt as though a void had opened in the pit of her stomach, and somehow, she became even more hollow.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Fuck me as a god,” she said.
“If you wish it,” he said.
“I wish it.”
Hades’s gaze was unwavering as he bent and pulled one of her nipples into his mouth before sitting back on his knees. She did not like the distance, but she liked watching him undress. When he was naked before her and he had dropped his glamour, she sat up and pulled her dress over her head.
His gaze on her bare skin made her feel primal and possessive. It ignited her with a will to dominate. She moved onto her knees, and Hades took her into his arms, lifting her up the incline of his thighs until she was seated against his length.
“Drop your glamour,” he said, “so that I may make love to a goddess.”
From this position, she was elevated slightly above him, and she used that to her advantage, teasing him as she brushed her mouth against his.
“If you wish it,” she whispered.
“I wish it,” he said, his tone low, almost feverish.
She let her magic go, and it fell away like a shiver down her spine.
Hades held her tighter, lifting her body higher. She knew without words what he was asking, and she answered, guiding the head of his cock to her entrance. She braced her hands against his shoulders as she seated herself on him, breathing through the pleasure as it coursed through her body, rattling her mind.
She wrapped her arms around him tighter, and as they moved together, all she could focus on was the feelings he conjured. This was a magic of its own, separate from any divine gift, and it let her live in a single moment of pure ecstasy, far from the grief and sorrow of her life.
Except for the part where it wasn’t real, and suddenly her arousal was cut through with pain.
Persephone twined her fingers in Hades’s hair and drew his head back, her lips colliding with his as tears streamed down her face.
“Lie down,” she said as she pulled away.
Hades held her gaze but did as she asked, shifting onto his back. She adjusted her position, her palms flat on his chest.
“Tell me,” he said, though his body tightened beneath hers as she began to move.
“There is nothing to say,” she replied. Reaching for his hands, she brought them to her breasts.
“You always have something to say,” he said, teasing her flesh with his fingers.
“A god once told me that words mean nothing,” she said, growing breathless.
“Your god was a fool,” he replied, his hands falling to her hips where he gripped her harder, moving faster.
“Oh?” she asked on a moan.
“Some words are not meaningless,” he said.
She could no longer say anything, and he did not speak as her body seized with pleasure. It wasn’t until she collapsed atop Hades that he finished, whispering the words against her temple.
“I love you, Persephone.”
“Persephone.”
She squeezed her eyes tighter, clinging to her dream a little longer, but already she could feel the weight of Hades’s arms slipping away.
“Persephone.”
She opened her eyes and found Hecate standing over her. It took her a moment to get her bearings, and then she realized she was in her bed. Thanatos must have taken her from the Asphodel Fields.
“Hecate,” she whispered as she sat up, an ache forming between her brows. “Is everything all right?”
“I believe I have found Hades,” Hecate said.
Persephone had been so desperate to hear those words for so long, she could hardly believe they were true.
“Where is he?” she asked, rising to her feet.
Hecate did not respond immediately, and Persephone’s soaring hope quickly turned to dread.
“Hecate?”
“He’s at Knossos,” she said.
“Knossos?” Persephone asked, confused. Knossos was a city on the island of Crete. “But there is nothing there but ruins.”
“Come,” Hecate said, extending her hand.
Persephone could already feel Hecate’s magic, ancient and electric, curling around her. Her heart rose in her throat as she took the goddess’s hand and they teleported.
She half expected to appear before the ruins of Knossos but was surprised when she was brought to Hades’s office at Nevernight. Hermes lay on Hades’s desk while Apollo took shots of vodka from behind the bar. A mortal sat with his hands tied behind his back. He was an older man with a sharp nose, round wire glasses, and a mostly bald head.
“What’s going on?” Persephone asked. “Who is this?”
“I’m Robert,” said the man.
“He’s Robert,” Apollo and Hermes said.
They all spoke in unison. It made Persephone flinch.
“And who is Robert?” Persephone asked with more patience than she felt.
Hecate had just found Hades, and these two were…well, she wasn’t sure what they were doing.
“I’m an architect,” said Robert.
“He’s an architect,” Apollo and Hermes said.
They sounded bored.
Persephone exchanged a look with Hecate, who rolled her eyes before sending a surge of magic in both gods’ directions. Hermes shot up from Hades’s desk and landed on the hard marble floor, a sharp obsidian thorn in the spot where he had once lain. The vodka in Apollo’s glass turned to sand just as he shot it into his mouth. He spat it out quickly, choking on the dirt.
“What the fuck?” they said.
Hermes climbed to his feet from the floor, and Apollo searched frantically for something wet, settling on an open bottle of wine to gargle.
“My husband is missing, and Hecate tells me that he is at Knossos, and instead of taking me to him, she brought me to you,” Persephone said, her voice shaking with anger. “One of you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Hermes and Apollo exchanged a look.
“I’m afraid that is why I am here,” said Robert.
Persephone’s eyes fell to the mortal.
“And what do you have to do with my husband and Knossos?”
“I am an architect,” he said.
Persephone could not keep a handle on her magic, and she didn’t want to. It flared to life, heavy and dark, as black spires shot from the tips of her fingers.
The mortal’s eyes widened, and he seemed to press himself farther into his chair.
She felt a hand on her arm and turned to look at Hecate.
“What the idiots are trying to say is that the ruins at Knossos are no longer ruins,” Hecate said.
“Theseus has been rebuilding the labyrinth,” said Apollo.
“So we thought we would find his builder,” said Hermes.
“Architect,” Robert corrected.
“But it turns out Robert here was just the first builder,” Apollo continued.
“Architect,” Robert said again.
“The first one?” Persephone asked.
“He hires and fires them,” said Hermes. “The—”
“Architects,” Robert and Hermes said at the same time.
“Why?” Persephone asked.
“He thinks it will add to the perplexity of his labyrinth,” said Apollo.
“I told him it wasn’t so,” said Robert. “All he needed was a great architect, but he wanted it to be inescapable.”
Persephone frowned, holding the mortal’s gaze.
“And…why are you here again?”
“We thought we would get to torture him into telling us how to get through the labyrinth,” said Hermes. “Turns out he’s cooperative.”
“I think you are upset about the wrong thing, Hermes,” Hecate advised.
The God of Mischief crossed his arms over his chest.
“You are telling me Hades is trapped in a labyrinth?” Persephone asked.
“It is more than likely,” said Robert. “I do not know much about Theseus’s plans beyond the fact that he wanted a type of prison. He insisted it be constructed from adamant.”
“Well, that is unfortunate,” said Hecate.
Persephone looked at the goddess. “What is it?”
“It is a metal that was forged by Gaia,” Hecate said. “It means that entering the labyrinth will be like becoming a mortal. It also means we cannot teleport inside or out.”
The more she learned, the more anxious Persephone became, but things were making sense. Now she knew why she could not feel Hades’s magic.
“So the only way to reach him is to go through the labyrinth,” Persephone said, more to herself than anyone else.
“Do you know which part of the labyrinth you built?” asked Apollo. “We could find the other architects and piece together a map.”
But Robert shook his head. “It would be too hard to say which part was mine, and I imagine it would be the same for the others.”
Persephone studied the mortal. “Why are you so compliant?” she asked, a little suspicious.
“Theseus never asked us what gods we served,” said the man. “I have always been pious, and pious I will always be.”
His sincerity rang true.
“Thank you, Robert.”
He smiled. “Of course, my lady,” he said with a nod. “Er…would anyone be willing to…untie my hands? They’re a little numb.”
Persephone turned her gaze to Apollo and Hermes. “Take him home, and one of you…grant him a favor.”
Apollo and Hermes exchanged a look and then spoke in unison. “We can’t.”
Then Persephone remembered what Aphrodite said—that Zeus had stripped them of their powers.
“Well, how did you get him here?”
“The old-fashioned way,” said Hermes.
“I think you mean the mortal way,” said Apollo.
“We abducted him from outside his work,” Hermes explained. “Antoni helped us.”
“Did anyone see you?” Persephone asked.
“Does it matter?” asked Hermes.
“It does if Theseus’s men are watching,” said Persephone.
Hermes pursed his lips, and Apollo frowned.
“I doubt Theseus would waste his resources on me,” said Robert. “I am one cog in his machine.”
“And if one breaks, the whole thing comes down,” Persephone said. “Theseus does not like loose ends.” She looked at Hecate. “What can be done?” She did not wish for the man to suffer for his loyalty to the gods.
“I can cast a protection spell,” Hecate said. “Though they are not infallible.”
“I am grateful for anything,” said Robert. “I only wish I could’ve helped more.”
Persephone met the mortal’s gaze. “You have helped enough. Thank you.”
Hecate teleported with Robert and returned in seconds.
“Will he be safe?” Persephone asked.
“I’m not sure anyone is safe,” said Hecate.
Her words made Persephone’s stomach drop.
“You will not be able to take responsibility for every mortal who crosses paths with Theseus,” said Hecate.
“No, but I would rather not see them die for helping us.”
“He made his choice,” Hecate said.
Persephone could not argue. There were greater things at stake.
“We have to go to Knossos,” she said.
“Hold on, Seph,” said Apollo. “This is clearly a trap.”
“I am aware,” she said, but it changed nothing.
“I know you are eager to bring Hades home,” said Hecate. “But we must proceed with caution. Apollo is right. It is evident Theseus used your ring to trap Hades, and it is likely he knows we will track its energy. He wants you in that labyrinth. He is counting on it.”
Persephone did not doubt that either. Theseus was toying with them.
“I think I know someone who can help,” said Hermes. “Or at least let us know what we’re up against.”
“Who?” Persephone asked.
“Her name is Ariadne,” he said. “Ariadne Alexiou.”
CHAPTER X
DIONYSUS
Dionysus entered the Crysos Gallery of Art and wove his way through the crowd, heading straight for the bar. The attendant must have seen him because he already had a glass of wine prepared. Dionysus snatched it with a nod and continued through the fray, observing the gathering.
He was looking for anyone he recognized, but not because he wanted to chat—it wasn’t exactly a friendly crowd. It was more a matter of assessing competition for the upcoming auction. While those in attendance were making a show of observing artistic masterpieces, it was not the art up for sale tonight—it was women and young men.
Dionysus had come in search of Medusa, a gorgon who had the power to turn men to stone. She had last been seen on the shore of the Aegean. As he’d feared, Poseidon had found her, and once he’d had his way with her, he claimed to have left her alone.
“If I had known the value of her beautiful head, I’d havecut it off where she lay,” he’d said, informing Dionysus that she could only turn men to stone once her head was separated from her body. It was a cruel revelation, and it left Dionysus uncertain as to whether it was best to find her at all. But if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else who valued her use over her life. Even if he did not manage to find her, he could at least extricate a few sex-trafficked victims and make note of the rest.
Eventually, the maenads would rescue them all—at least that was the goal. He hesitated to call it a plan, because he’d done this enough to understand that plans never went smoothly. Sometimes they were too late.
His chest tightened.
One day, he hoped they could put an end to this vicious cycle of abuse.
He made his way into the adjoining room, which, while more spacious, was far more crowded, likely because it featured mostly erotic art. Dionysus scanned the room, his eyes passing over portraits of Aphrodite in the hands of mortal lovers and glades full of naked nymphs, until he caught a glimpse of someone he recognized, though she was the last person he’d expected to find here, and that was because she shouldn’t have been here at all.
Detective Ariadne Alexiou stood across from him, and he could not help the eruption of heat that started in his groin. His heart pumped harder, and blood rushed to every limb, making him very, very aware of the heaviness between his legs.
Motherfucker, he thought.
She was supposed to be at his club, Bakkheia, training with the maenads, yet she was here, wearing an electric blue dress that only drew more attention to her beauty. He couldn’t help thinking about how she had wrapped those long legs around his waist when he’d fucked her against a cave wall on the island of Thrinacia or how he’d twisted his fingers into that thick, dark hair just to gain better access to her mouth. She had tasted so sweet, and she’d felt so good around him.
Fuck, he ached for her.
She had yet to notice him, but as he took a step in her direction, a man handed her a glass of champagne.
What the actual fuck?
“Ari,” Dionysus said as he approached. He felt almost breathless, but he knew that was his frustration.
She was in the middle of taking a drink when she spit it back into the glass, her eyes wide with surprise. Clearly she had not expected him to be here either.
“Dionysus,” she said. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“You know Lord Dionysus?” the man beside her asked.
Knowwas an understatement.
“Yes,” she said. “Casually.”
“Casually,” Dionysus repeated. “Sure.”
Her gaze seared his skin. He knew what she was saying without speaking.
Don’t fuck this up for me.
He pointed to the two of them. “So what’s this?”
The man, who was young with a swath of blond hair, hesitated and stuck out his hand. “Leander Onasis,” he said.
Dionysus looked at his hand and then met his gaze. “I didn’t ask who you were,” he said.
The mortal blushed and dropped his arm. He started to speak, but Ariadne interrupted.
“Leander,” she said and offered an apologetic smile. “Would you give us a minute?”
He hesitated, glancing at Dionysus. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll, uh, see you in the room?”
“Sooner,” she said.
He grinned before walking away, and Dionysus glared, unable to suppress the jealousy and anger that shot up his spine.
“Really? Sooner?” he asked.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked between her teeth. “We had an agreement.”
“You wanted to go back to work,” he said.
“This is work,” she snapped.
“Really? Because I happen to know your boss put you on traffic duty.”
“Are you stalking me now?”
“Never stopped,” he said, though it wasn’t stalking, and she knew it.