Persephone groaned. La Rose was an upscale nightclub owned by Aphrodite. She had never been inside, but she’d seen pictures. Everything was cream and pink and, like Hades’ Nevernight, there was an impossible waitlist. “How are we supposed to get into La Rose?”
“I have my ways,” Lexa replied mischievously. Persephone wondered if those ways included Adonis, and she was about to ask as much when she caught a flash in the corner of her eye. Whatever Lexa was saying on the other line was lost as her attention moved to her mother, appearing through the garden’s foliage a few feet in front of her.
“Hey, Lex. I’ll call you back.” Persephone hung up and acknowledged Demeter with a curt, “Mother. What are you doing here?”
“I had to ensure you were safe after that ridiculous article you wrote. What were you thinking?”
Persephone felt the shock run deep, like an electrical current splicing through her chest. “I thought—I thought you’d be proud. You hate Hades.”
“Proud? You thought I’d be proud?” she scoffed. “You wrote a critical article on a god—but not just any god, Hades! You deliberately broke my rule—not once but multiple times.” Persephone’s surprise must have shown on her face because her mother added, “Oh, yes. I know you have returned to Nevernight on multiple occasions.”
Persephone glared at Demeter. “How?”
Her eyes fell to the phone in Persephone’s hand. “I tracked you.”
“Through my phone?” She knew her mother wasn’t above violating her privacy to keep tabs on her; she’d proven that by having her nymphs spy on her. Still, Demeter hadn’t bought her phone, nor did she pay the bill. She had no right to use it as a GPS. “Are you serious?”
“I had to do something. You weren’t talking to me.”
“Since when?” she demanded. “I saw you Monday!”
“And you cancelled our lunch.” The goddess sniffed. “We hardly spend time together anymore.”
“And you think stalking me will encourage me to spend more time with you?” Persephone demanded.
Demeter laughed. “Oh, my flower, I cannot stalk you. I am your mother.”
Persephone glared. “I don’t have time for this.” She tried to sidestep her and leave, but she found she couldn’t move—her feet felt as though they were welded to the ground. Hysteria erupted in her stomach and lodged in her throat. Persephone met her mother’s dark gaze, and for the first time in years, she saw Demeter as the vengeful goddess she was—the one who lashed nymphs and killed kings.
“I have not dismissed you,” her mother said. “Remember, Persephone, you are only here by the grace of my magic.”
Persephone wanted to scream at her mother, Keep reminding me I’m powerless. But she knew challenging her was the wrong move. It was what Demeter wanted so she could dole out her punishment; so instead, she inhaled a shaky breath and whispered, “I’m sorry, Mother.”
For a tense moment, Persephone waited to see if Demeter would release her or abduct her. Then she felt her mother’s hold loosen around her shaking legs. “If you return to Nevernight again, see Hades ever again, I will take you from this world.”
Persephone wasn’t sure where she gathered her courage, but she managed to look her mother in the eyes and say, “Don’t think for a second that I will ever forgive you if you send me back to that prison.”
Demeter gave a sharp laugh. “My flower, I don’t require forgiveness.”
Then she vanished.
Persephone knew Demeter meant her warning. The problem was, there was no way to get around going back to Nevernight; she had a contract to fulfill and articles to write.
Persephone’s phone vibrated in her hand and she looked down to see a message from Lexa: Yes to La Rose??
She texted back: Sounds great.
She was going to need a lot of alcohol to forget this day.
CHAPTER XIII – LA ROSE
Persephone and Lexa took a taxi to La Rose. It wasn’t her preferred method of travel—she felt like they were a game of chance. She never knew what she was going to get—a smelly cab, a talkative driver, or a creepy one.
Tonight, they’d gotten a creepy one. He kept taking long looks at them in the rearview mirror, and had become so distracted he had to swerve hard to miss oncoming traffic.
She glared at Lexa, who had insisted they couldn’t arrive at La Rose on a bus.
Better that than dead, she thought now.
“Five articles about the God of the Dead,” Lexa said dreamily. “What do you think you’ll write about next?”
She honestly didn’t know, and right now she didn’t care to think about Hades, but Lexa wasn’t going to let it go.
Before Persephone could muster a response, Lexa gasped—the sound she always made when she had an idea or something terrible was happening. Persephone was sure that whatever was about to come out of her mouth was probably both.
“You should write about his love life.”
“What?” Persephone sputtered. “No. Absolutely not.”
Lexa pouted. “Why not?”
“Uh, what makes you think Hades would share that information with me?”
“Persephone, you’re a journalist. Investigate!”
“I’m not really interested in Hades’ past lovers.” Persephone stared out the window.
“Past lovers? That makes it sound like he has a current lover…like you’re the current lover.”
“Uh, no,” Persephone said. “I’m pretty sure the Lord of the Underworld is sleeping with his assistant.”
“So, write about that!” Lexa encouraged.
“I’d rather not, Lexa. I work for New Athens News, not the Delphi Divine. I’m interested in truth.” Besides, she’d rather not learn whether that was true. Just thinking about it made her sick.
“You’re pretty sure Hades is banging his assistant—just get it confirmed, and it’s truth!”
She sighed, frustrated. “I don’t want to write about trivial things. I want to write about something that will change the world.”
“And bashing Hades’ godly antics will change the world?”
“It might,” Persephone argued, and Lexa shook her head. “What?”
Her friend sighed. “It’s just…all you did in publishing that article was confirm everyone’s thoughts and fears about the God of the Dead. I’m guessing there are other truths about Hades that weren’t in that article.”
“What’s your point?”
“If you want your writing to change the world, write about the side of Hades that makes you blush.”
Persephone’s face heated. “You’re such a romantic, Lexa.”
“There you go again,” she said. “Why can’t you just admit you find Hades attractive—”
“I have admitted—”
“And that you’re attracted to him?”
Persephone’s mouth snapped shut, and she crossed her arms over her chest, withdrawing her gaze from Lexa back to the window.
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“What are you afraid of, Persephone?”
Persephone closed her eyes against that question. Lexa wouldn’t understand. It didn’t matter if she liked Hades or not, if she found him attractive or not, if she wanted him or not. He was not for her. He was forbidden. Maybe the contract was a blessing—it was a way to think of Hades as a temporary thing in her life.
“Persephone?”
“I told you I don’t want to talk about it, Lexa,” she said tightly, hating the direction this conversation had gone.
They didn’t speak again even after they arrived at La Rose. When Persephone left the cab, the distinct smell of rain hit her nose, and when she looked up, lightning illuminated the sky. She shivered, wishing she had chosen a different outfit. Her slippery, shimmery teal dress only reached mid-thigh, hugging the curve of her breasts and hips, and the deep V-neck left little to the imagination—and protection from the elements.
She had chosen it to spite Hades—it was silly. She’d wanted to look like power, like temptation, like sin—all for him. She wanted to dangle herself in front of him, and then draw back at the last moment when he was close enough to taste her.
She wanted him to want her.
It was all pointless, of course. La Rose was another god’s territory. It was unlikely Hades would see her tonight. This dress was a stupid idea.
La Rose was a beautiful building that looked like several crystals jutting from the earth. They were made of mirrored glass so that at night, they reflected the light of the city. Like Nevernight, there was a huge line to get inside.
A sudden chill of unease spread over Persephone and she glanced around, unsure of where it was coming from—until her eyes landed on Adonis.
He was grinning ear to ear, striding toward her and Lexa dressed in a black shirt and jeans. He looked comfortable, confident, and smug. She was about to ask what he was doing here when Lexa called out to him. “Adonis!”
She hugged him around the middle the moment he reached them, and he returned the embrace. “Hey, babe.”
“Babe?” Persephone echoed flatly. “Lexa, what is he doing here?”
Her best friend pulled away from Adonis. “Adonis wanted to celebrate you, so he reached out to me. We thought it would be fun to surprise you!”
“Oh, I am surprised.” Persephone glared at Adonis.
“Come on, I have a suite.” Adonis took Lexa’s hand and looped it through his arm, but when he offered the same to Persephone, she declined.
Adonis’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, grinning down at Lexa as if nothing was amiss.
Persephone considered leaving, but she had come with Lexa, and she really didn’t feel comfortable leaving her with Adonis. At some point tonight, she was going to have to tell her best friend about what her crush had done.
Adonis led them past the line and inside the club; music vibrated through Persephone’s body as they entered under the misty, pink hue of the laser lights. The ground floor had room for dancing, and places to sit that were curtained in crystals. Suites dominated the upper tiers of the club, overlooking a stage and the dance floor.
Adonis led them up a set of stairs to a suite on the second floor, and through a crystal curtain that created a barrier from the outside world. The interior was luxurious, with soft pink couches on either side of a fire pit, which offered warmth and an ambiance Persephone found annoying.
“This is my personal suite,” Adonis said.
“This is amazing.” Lexa went straight to the balcony overlooking the dance floor.
“You like?” Adonis asked, hovering near the entrance.
“Of course! You’d have to be crazy not to.”
“What about you, Persephone?” Adonis looked at her expectantly. Why was he seeking praise from her?
“You must be very lucky,” she said curtly. “You’re on the VIP list at two clubs owned by gods.”
Adonis’s eyes dulled, but he didn’t miss a beat. “You should know I’m lucky, Persephone. I set your career in motion.”
She glared at him and he smirked, then crossed the room to stand beside Lexa, who seemed oblivious to their exchange over the pounding music. She leaned into him and Adonis placed his hand on the small of her back.
Persephone stared at them for a moment, conflict splitting her chest, caught between her anger with Adonis and love for her friend. Lexa was clearly infatuation with the man. Did Adonis make Lexa’s heart feel like it wanted to leave her chest? Did her whole body turn electric when he touched her? Did her thoughts scatter when he entered the room?
A waitress came to take their order, interrupting Persephone’s thoughts. She was mortal, having no aura of magic around her, and dressed in a tight, iridescent dress; its shimmering surface reminded Persephone of the inside of a shell.
Once she took Lexa and Adonis’ orders, the waitress turned to Persephone.
“A cab, please,” Persephone said, glancing at her friend. “Make it two.”
Shortly after she returned with their drinks, Sybil, Aro, and Xeres arrived—Sybil in a short, black leather skirt and a lacy top, and the twins matching in their dark jeans, black shirts, and leather jackets. They took a seat opposite Persephone and placed their orders with the waitress. After she left, Sybil looked around the suite.
“My, my, my, Adonis. Looks like Favor has its perks.”
The air in the room grew heavy, like there was some kind of history behind Sybil’s comment. Persephone sought Lexa’s gaze, but she wasn’t looking at her—or anyone; she had turned her attention back to the dance floor.
This was what Persephone had feared; if Adonis did have a god’s favor, it meant that any mortal he set his sights on was possibly in danger. Lexa knew that, and she wasn’t going to risk the wrath of a god—was she?
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Sybil,” Adonis said.
“You expect us to believe you get all these passes because you work for New Athens News?” asked Xeres.
Adonis sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Persephone,” Aro said. “You work for the News, do you get passes to popular clubs?”
She hesitated, “No—”
“Persephone here was invited to Nevernight by Hades himself.”
She glared at Adonis; she knew what he was doing, trying to take the attention off himself. Luckily, no one took the bait.
“Keep denying it. I know a charmed one when I see one,” said Sybil.
“And we all know you’re fucking Apollo, but we don’t say anything,” said Adonis.
“Whoa, that was out of line, man,” said Aro, but Sybil raised her hand to silence her friend’s defense.
“At least I’m honest about my favor,” she said.
The longer this went on, the more Persephone knew she had to get her friend out of this suite. Lexa was going to need air and some time to get over the disappointment of getting her hopes up about Adonis.
Persephone stood and crossed the room. “Lexa, let’s dance.” She took her hand and led her out of the suite. Once they were downstairs, she turned to Lexa.
“I’m okay, Persephone,” Lexa aid quickly.
“I’m sorry, Lex.”
She was quiet a moment, nibbling on her lip. “Do you think Sybil is right?”
The girl was an oracle, which meant she was probably more in tune with the truth than anyone in the party, but still, all Persephone could say was, “Maybe?”
“Who do you think it is?”
It could be anyone, but there were a few goddesses and gods who were notorious for taking mortal lovers—Aphrodite, Hera, and Apollo, just to name a few. “Don’t think about it. We came here to have fun, remember?”
A waitress approached them and handed them two drinks.
“Oh, we didn’t order—” Persephone started to say, but the waitress interrupted.
“On the house,” she smiled.
Persephone and Lexa each took a glass. The liquid inside was pink and sweet, and they drank fast—Lexa to drown her sadness, and Persephone for courage to dance. Once they finished, she grabbed Lexa’s hand and dragged her into the throng.
They danced together and with strangers, the tempo of the music, the flash of the laser lights, and the alcohol in their system left them feeling happily disconnected from the events of the day. There was just the here and now.
The crowd moved around them, rocking them back and forth. Persephone panted, her mouth was dry and sweat trickling off her forehead. She felt flushed and dizzy. She came to a stop on the dance floor, the crowd pulsed around her, but the world still spun, sending her stomach turning.
It was then she noticed she’d become separated from Lexa. The faces blurred around her as she pushed through the crowd, growing dizzier with each jolt to her body. She thought she caught sight of her friend’s electric blue dress and followed its shimmer, but when she came to the edge of the dance floor, Lexa wasn’t there.
Maybe she’d gone back up to the suite.
Persephone started back up the steps. Each move made her head feel like it was full of water. At one point the dizziness was too much, and she paused to close her eyes.
“Persephone?”
She peeled her eyes open to find Sybil standing in front of her.
“Are you okay?”
“Have you seen Lexa?” she asked. Her tongue felt thick and swollen.
“No. Have you—”
“I have to find Lexa.” She turned away from Sybil, heading back downstairs. At this point, she knew something was wrong with her. She needed to find her friend and go home.
“Whoa, whoa—wait,” Sybil stepped in front of her. “Persephone, how much have you had to drink?”
“One glass,” she said.
The girl shook her head, brows pinched together. “There’s no way you’ve just had one glass.”
Persephone pushed past her. She wasn’t going to argue about how much alcohol she had tonight. Maybe Lexa was in the bathroom.
She tried to keep to the wall as she searched for her friend, but found herself pulled into the sea of moving bodies. Just when she felt the crowd would swallow her completely someone grabbed her wrist and drew her toward them. She put her hands out, and they landed on a hard chest. She looked up into Adonis’s face.
“Whoa, where you going, babe?”
“Let me go, Adonis.” She tried to pull away, but he held her fast.
“Shh, it’s alright. I’m your friend.”
“If you were my friend—”
“You’re going to have to get over that little article thing, babe.”
“Don’t call me babe, and don’t tell me what to do.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a handful?” he asked, and then his hold on her tightened, forcing their hips together.
She thought she just might vomit.
“I just want to talk,” he said.
“No.”
Adonis’s face changed in that moment. His playful smirk turned down, and his bright eyes darkened. “Fine. We don’t have to talk.”