CHAPTER XVII
HADES
Hades could not describe how it felt to be free of the labyrinth’s hold.
The only thing he had to compare it to was when he’d been thrown up by his father and released from the dark prison of his belly.
But not even this compared, because then, he’d been reborn into battle, and now, he’d been reunited with his queen, and she was all he wanted.
As they teleported, he healed what could be mended, highly aware that the wound at his side was impervious to his magic. He was already imagining what Hecate would say—how Persephone would react.
When they arrived in the Underworld, he kept Persephone close, holding her gaze as he swept a strand of hair behind her ear before tipping her head back for a better look at her face—and access to her mouth.
“Are you well?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said in a hushed whisper meant only for the dim glow of their bedroom. His hand tightened at the base of her head, desire igniting in the pit of his stomach.
“I dreamed only of you in the dark of that labyrinth,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. He wanted nothing between them save this sweet tension, but Ariadne cleared her throat, and Persephone responded, breaking this hypnotic hold.
A sliver of frustration shot up his spine. It did not help that he was not particularly pleased with the mortal detective and her previous refusal to help him, especially given the horror in the labyrinth, though he had to admit, he’d like to know what finally convinced her.
“Where is Dionysus?”
“Wherever you left him,” Hades replied.
“Hades,” Persephone chided.
She pulled away, and he was frustrated by the distance.
“I answered the question to the best of my ability,” he said. He did not know where the God of Wine was, and frankly, he did not care. The only thing he wanted to know was how long until he could be alone with Persephone.
“If that was your best, I feel sorry for you, Persephone,” Ariadne said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I am just giving you the same energy you gave me,” Hades replied.
“What is wrong with you two?” Persephone demanded, looking from him to the detective.
“He’s pissed because I refused to give him information on Theseus,” Ariadne said, then she looked at him, eyes narrowed. “I risked Phaedra’s safety once to tell you Theseus’s plans, and you did nothing to help her. What makes you think I would do it again?”
Persephone met his gaze. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him, like she was ready to be disappointed.
“Is that true?”
Hades crossed his arms over his chest. This was not at all how he imagined this reunion.
“I said I would help,” he countered. “I never specified when.”
There was a time and a place for everything, and rescuing Phaedra had, unfortunately, fallen further down the list as more and more pressing things came up—like the murder of Adonis, the attacks on Harmonia and Tyche, and the hunting and slaying of the ophiotaurus.
Not to mention, as far as Hades knew, Ariadne’s sister wasn’t interested in being rescued.
“Perhaps you haven’t realized since Phaedra is the center of your world, but there are people who have died by Theseus’s hands while she sits pretty at his side unharmed, so forgive me if she is not my priority.”
Hades did not like the silence that followed or the way Persephone was looking at him, like she was stunned by his harshness, but he did not regret his words even as Ariadne’s eyes reddened.
Fuck.
Maybe he did regret them.
“It’s all right,” Ariadne said. “Dionysus has done what you could not.”
And he would pay for it too.
He bit back his reply, though he was not surprised. The God of Wine was in love with the detective and would do anything for her, consequences be damned, and while Hades could relate to that, he did not trust that Ariadne was as invested.
Hades turned away from the two. If he lingered, he was going to say something else he regretted. He crossed to the bar and poured himself a drink, surprised by how strong the amber liquid smelled. It was warm and sweet, and it burned his nose. He placed the glass to his dry lips, his mouth salivating at the thought of taking a single sip, but then he heard Persephone speak.
“I’ll have Hermes—” She paused. “Never mind. I’ll take you to Dionysus.”
“No,” said Hades. He set the glass down and turned to face them. “Hermes is more than capable of seeing her home.”
Persephone’s gaze was hard.
“Zeus stripped him of his powers—him, Apollo, and Aphrodite—for fighting alongside us,” she said. “So no, he isn’t.”
Hades clenched his jaw. He had suspected Zeus would retaliate for what had happened outside Thebes. His rule had been challenged, and the other gods had watched as Persephone turned his magic against him and shot him from the sky.
Now Zeus had to remind everyone of his power and strength, but he could only strip his offspring of powers, not Hades or Persephone.
He wondered what the King of the Skies had planned for them.
Fuck.
He looked at Ariadne, who was covered in blood. She had scratches on every exposed part of her body and a large gash on her chest.
“I’ll take her,” he said. “But she must be healed first. I don’t want to hear Dionysus fret.”
“You mean the same way you fret over me?” Persephone asked, arching a brow.
He could feel her disapproval. He was definitely going to hear about this when he returned. Except that he didn’t really care so long as they were alone.
Persephone turned away from him and placed her hands on Ariadne’s shoulders. She was new to healing, and he wasn’t aware that she had ever healed anyone but herself, so he was curious to watch her now.
When her magic ignited, it felt like the warm rays of the spring sun, and beneath it, he let go of the anger and tension that had tightened his muscles and fueled his frustration. Ariadne too seemed to relax as Persephone’s power took effect, healing the gash on her chest, the scratches on her arms, and whatever unseen injuries she’d sustained while in the labyrinth.
When Persephone was finished, she dropped her hands and held the detective’s gaze.
“Thank you for leading me through the labyrinth,” she said. “I couldn’t have done that on my own.”
Ariadne offered her a small smile. “Yeah, you could have,” she said, glancing darkly at Hades even as she added, “Sometimes our love forces us to do extraordinary things.”
That was the first time he’d ever agreed with anything the mortal said.
Hades approached Persephone, and he was glad when she turned to him. He framed her face with his hands, threading his fingers into her hair.
“I will not be long,” he said and kissed her hard and deep. His heart raced as she responded beneath him, her fingers digging into his skin. It felt dramatic to say, but he did not wish to let her go even if it was only for a few minutes.
When he released her, he was warm and aroused.
He considered teleporting Ariadne away without escort, but he knew Persephone would not approve. Besides, it was likely not the safest thing, especially in the aftermath of their escape from the labyrinth.
Or, apparently, Phaedra’s rescue.
“Wait here,” he said.
He did not want to have to go looking for her when he returned. He stepped away, holding her gaze as he turned toward Ariadne and reached for her with his magic. Simultaneously, he sought Dionysus and found him in his suite at Bakkheia.
Hades wasn’t sure what he expected when they arrived, but it certainly wasn’t Dionysus passed out in a chair wearing the skin of some old white man dressed like a doctor—except that was exactly what they found.
Ariadne’s brows lowered.
“Are you sure you brought us to the right place?” she asked, looking around, but it was definitely the right place, and this was definitely the right god.
He kicked Dionysus’s foot, and the god startled awake.
“What?” he snapped as he sat up in the chair, glaring at Hades, but his anger quickly melted into a strange mix of anticipation and fear. He gripped the arms of his chair and stood, pulling off the net covering his hair. He didn’t seem to realize he wasn’t his usual self. “Where is Ariadne?”
“She’s here,” Hades said, stepping aside so that the God of the Vine had a clear view of his beloved mortal.
“Ari,” Dionysus breathed as he took a step toward her, but her eyes widened and she took one back.
“What’s going on here?” Ariadne asked, looking from Dionysus to Hades.
For a moment, Dionysus looked confused, and then he glanced down at himself.
“Oh fuck,” he said as he shifted into his true form.
Ariadne’s mouth fell open.
“You didn’t know?” Hades asked. “Your boyfriend here is a shape-shifter.”
“Sorry,” said Dionysus, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed embarrassed. “It’s been a long day.”
“Where is my sister?” Ariadne asked.
Dionysus’s mouth tightened. Hades guessed that this was not how Dionysus hoped their reunion would go.
“I took her to my home,” Dionysus said. “I thought that would be best for her and the baby.”
“Baby?” Ariadne said.
“Baby?” Hades asked.
“What baby?” Ariadne demanded.
“Your sister is pregnant,” said Dionysus. “Was pregnant. She gave birth today.”
Ariadne just stared at him with her mouth ajar.
Dionysus must have hated the silence because he continued, “Congratulations. Today, you became an aunt.”
“You took Theseus’s wife and his child?” Hades asked.
Fuck, this wasn’t good.
“I didn’t know there was a child until it was too late,” said Dionysus.
“Did she give birth at your house?” he said.
“No—”
“Then it wasn’t too late!” Hades roared.
“Don’t yell at him!” Ariadne said, stepping between him and Dionysus. “He did it for me!”
Hades’s eyes fell to her, and whatever she saw made her take a step back.
“You think I don’t know that?” Hades seethed. “You think I don’t know that everything you’ve ever done has been for your own selfish gain?”
“Careful, Hades,” Dionysus warned.
“Theseus will come for his wife, his child, and for you, and while you will suffer, it will be nothing compared to those who sheltered you.” Hades felt his darkness crowding the room as he spoke, but his gaze did not waver from Ariadne’s stricken face. “You thought you knew pain? You thought you knew guilt? You are about to know the agony of living with the blood of innocent people on your hands.” Hades straightened and looked at Dionysus, whose eyes were dark with rage. “You had better hope I am wrong,” he said before he vanished.
CHAPTER XVIII
THESEUS
Theseus gathered Helen’s hair into his hands as she knelt on the plush carpet of the hotel room. Even with this view, he barely registered the feel of her mouth around him, so caught up in his anger over what had happened at the labyrinth.
He had watched Ariadne and the Goddess of Spring from the moment they had arrived on the island of Knossos and made their descent into his dark prison. He’d heard every conversation, every scream and desperate cry. He’d witnessed their greatest desires come to life as the magic of the labyrinth took root in their minds, though neither surprised him.
Persephone desired identity.
Ariadne desired family.
Theseus desired to strip them of both—and he would. It was just a matter of time. What both failed to realize was that he could not be defeated. He had fulfilled the prophecy of the ophiotaurus. He was destined to overthrow the gods, and when he succeeded, they would pay for their insolence, but none so much as Ariadne.
Ariadne had betrayed him, and for that, she would suffer.
He grew harder at the thought of what he would do to her, how he would torture her, and he would start by punishing that wicked mouth.
The pressure around his cock changed, growing in intensity, and when he looked down, Ariadne was on her knees before him. A hot wave of lust tore through him, and his hold tightened in her thick hair. She paused, her dark eyes lifting to his. She straightened, bracing her hands against his thighs, knowing what was to come.
He thrust into her mouth and held her tight, shifting deeper. He could feel the back of her throat against the head of his cock as she gagged, her nails biting hard into his skin. The pain spurred him on, the pressure building until he exploded into her.
He wasn’t sure if she pushed away from him or if she tore away, but when he stared down at the woman at his feet, it was no longer Ariadne but Helen. She was gasping for breath and coughing, his come dripping from her mouth to the floor. She looked up at him, her eyes watery, full of hate.
He was getting used to that expression. She’d looked at him similarly after he’d fucked her in the conference room at New Athens News, yet she had still come when he’d summoned her to the Diadem and knelt when he’d ordered.
She said nothing as she rose to her feet and disappeared into the bathroom. After a few seconds, he heard the shower running. He thought she might use it to muffle her cries, but instead, he could make out the distinct sound of vomiting.
He ground his teeth, disgusted, and left the room, entering the adjoining suite.
He had left Knossos shortly after Hades, Persephone, and Ariadne, not even bothering to unearth Sandros. He was likely still trapped under rubble given that it was adamant and nearly impossible for him to move on his own, but it would serve as a fitting punishment for the time being for his failure to subdue the Goddess of Spring.
Another wave of anger overtook him as he stepped into the shower, yet he knew it was futile to feel such emotion. It did not matter that the three had escaped, because he was destined to win. While he had hoped to lure Cronos into partnership by offering Hades as a sacrifice, he could do the same with Zeus.
He still had the upper hand.
Let them revel in this victory, he thought. The higher they climb, the harder their fall.
Theseus finished bathing, and when he returned to his room, Helen waited, a picture of perfection. Looking at her now, no one would expect that minutes ago, she had knelt before him and took his cock to the back of her throat.
As he dressed, she spoke.
“I have prepared a statement announcing the birth of your son. As requested, it states you were present upon his arrival.”
The corner of his lips lifted at her disparaging tone.
“Is that contempt I hear in your voice, Helen?”
Her silence spoke volumes, but then she asked, “Do you even know his name?”
He turned to face her as he knotted his tie.
“Have you suddenly developed a moral compass?”
“I have always held certain values,” she snapped.
“Oh? And what are they? Dishonesty? Treachery? Desperation?”
She glared. “You have no reason to accuse me of such things.”
“Of course I do. You displayed each one when you abandoned your friends for me.”
“I did not abandon anyone for you. I chose Triad.”
“I am Triad.”
She glared at him, her chest rising and falling with her anger.
He scowled. “Help me with this fucking tie!”
She lifted her chin, and for a moment, he thought she would refuse, but then she rose to approach him.
“Who were you thinking about when you were fucking my face?” she asked.
Theseus did not like her question. It felt too familiar, like she was a lover demanding answers.
“Jealous, Helen?”
“She’s under your skin,” she said.
His muscles went rigid. She was suggesting he had a weakness. “For all you know, it was my wife,” he said.
“The wife you left alone while she gave birth to your son?” she asked. “I don’t think so.”
He let his hands rest on her hips, fingers pressing hard into her skin.
“Know your place, Helen,” he said.
“If you ever do that to me again, I will bite your dick off,” she said. “I do not care about the consequences. Are we understood?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. He said nothing, and she continued as if they had never gone off topic.
“The reporters are waiting outside the hospital. When you exit the front, you will pause at the top step with Phaedra, announce your son, smile and wave, and then guide her to the waiting SUV.”
She slipped the knot of his tie up, snug against his neck, causing him to cough. He knocked her hands away and turned toward the mirror, adjusting the tie so that it wouldn’t choke him to death before he made it to Phaedra’s room.
“I know how to charm the press,” he said.
It was Phaedra they needed to worry about. This would be their first appearance together since the incident in the hall, though he suspected she would do anything to please him, clinging to the hope that if she did, he might still love her.
He did not really care what she had to tell herself, so long as she played her part. A part that was even more critical now that Ariadne had made her choice to side with Hades and Persephone.
He watched Helen cross to the bedside table to pick up her tablet and purse.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked.
“I have to work,” she said, meeting his gaze in the mirror.
He turned to face her. “You work for me.”
She ground her teeth, a spark of anger in her eyes.
He chuckled. She didn’t like that, which made it even more satisfying.
“You are the one who told me to have a counterattack ready for Persephone,” she said. “And I have a lead.”
“Anything you want to share?”
“I prefer it to be a surprise,” she said.
He tilted his head to the side, studying her. He waited for her to drop her gaze or fidget with her stuff—to show some kind of discomfort—but she remained poised beneath his scrutiny.
He approached, brushing his knuckles along her cheek. She stiffened as his hand came to rest against her neck.
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Helen?”
“No,” she said.
“No?” he asked, increasing the pressure against her throat. He felt her swallow beneath his hold. “Or never?”
She did not answer, and after a moment, he dropped his hand, pleased by the way she seemed to slump when he released her. He thought he almost liked her fear more than her acquiescence.
“If you had said never, I wouldn’t have believed you,” he said. “And then I would have killed you.”
She didn’t even blink, and he could not decide if she was brave or foolish.
He had played this game for years, and he knew the kind of person she was—an opportunist, eager to please so long as it meant a ride to the top—and he was willing to indulge her until she was no longer useful, though he had no doubt she was planning to stab him in the back before then.
It was a good thing he was invincible.
Helen turned, and he watched as she retreated, speaking only as she made it to the door.
“His name is Acamas,” he said, and when Helen looked back at him, he offered a warning. “I know your loyalty is tied to ambition, Helen. Just remember you can’t rise from the dead.”
Theseus teleported to the Asclepius Community Hospital.
When he arrived, he expected Tannis to greet him in the hallway outside Phaedra’s door but found it abandoned. In fact, the whole wing was quiet. His immediate reaction was not to overthink—perhaps Tannis had cleared the wing and gone inside to help Phaedra prepare for her departure.
When he entered, he found Tannis, but he was not with Phaedra. He was on his knees. Perseus stood behind him, a gun pointed at the back of his head.
Theseus closed the door.
“Tell Lord Theseus where his wife is, Tannis,” Perseus said.
There was a brief pause, and then in a quiet tone, Tannis said, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” Theseus repeated. He looked at Perseus and then around the room, but there was no sign of their belongings. “And what about my son?”
“I…don’t know…my lord,” Tannis said.
“But he was born?” Theseus’s voice trembled.
“I heard his cries.”
Theseus clenched his teeth. Each word only succeeded in making him angrier. He could not describe this feeling, this rage, but all he could think was that he had had a son and now he was gone. It was the only thing he could think and that…surprised him.
“When did you realize he was missing?”
“The doctor never left the room,” Tannis answered.
Never left.
Never left.
He fixated on those words.
Never left.
Someone had certainly left, and they had taken his wife and his child.
His property and legacy.
Theseus regarded the bodyguard for a moment and then met Perseus’s gaze. The demigod pulled the trigger, executing Tannis with a single bullet to the back of his head. Theseus had no more use for the man who had failed to protect his wife and child, no need to ask him any more questions. He knew who was responsible for this.
Ariadne.
“Have you located Doctor Phanes?” Theseus asked. He watched as Tannis’s blood pooled on the floor.
“He is being escorted here now along with his nurse,” Perseus said. “We found them in the parking garage, disoriented.”
She’s under your skin.
It was true. Ariadne was under his skin, and he hated her for it.
Hated her because she knew and she had used it to her advantage, to take control of this very moment. He had to admit he was surprised she had made her move, knowing he would seek revenge…knowing Phaedra would suffer too.
The door opened, and Theseus looked up to find Damian, a son of Zeus, entering with the doctor and a middle-aged woman. At first, their expressions were distant, a symptom of compulsion, but then their eyes fell to Tannis, lifeless on the floor.
The nurse screamed, and Damian covered her mouth, muffling the sound.
“Please, my lord,” Doctor Phanes begged, eyes already watering. His large, sweaty forehead gleamed under the fluorescent lights. “I…I do not know what happened.”
“Shh,” Theseus said as he approached and pressed a finger to the man’s lips. He waited until he was certain the doctor would remain quiet before pulling his hand away. “I know it was not your fault. Some things are outside your control, just like the length of your life.”
Theseus took a step back, and Perseus raised his weapon.
“Please,” the doctor whispered, his plea drowned by the sound of Perseus’s gun firing.
The nurse screamed but she was silenced shortly after by Damian, who kept his hand over her mouth and wound his arm tightly around her neck until she slid to the floor.
In the quiet that followed, Perseus spoke.
“I will find her, my lord, and your son.”
But Theseus did not need help locating them. He knew exactly where they were.
“No,” he said. “You will bring me Dionysus.”
CHAPTER XIX
HADES
Hades had not expected to leave Bakkheia in such a foul mood. If Persephone had heard the way he’d spoken to Ariadne, she likely wouldn’t speak to him all night, but Dionysus’s decision to essentially kidnap Phaedra and her son would have horrible consequences. He only hoped he could stop Theseus before the demigod saw them through, but those worries were for tomorrow.
Tonight, all he wished to concern himself with was Persephone.
Except when he returned to the Underworld, she was not alone. Hecate had joined her in his office.
“When I said wait for me, I meant alone,” he grumbled, though to be fair, he was not unhappy to see the Goddess of Witchcraft.
“Shut up!” Hecate snapped as she embraced him, and though her actions surprised him, he hugged her back. “You’re an idiot,” she said with her face buried in his chest.
He smiled softly. “I missed you too, Hecate.”