“Oh, my flower. I don’t blame you.” Demeter placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “It’s this mortal world. It’s creating a divide between us.”
“Mother, you’re being ridiculous,” Persephone sighed, placing her hands on either side of Demeter’s face, and when she spoke again, she meant every word. “You are all I have.”
Demeter smiled, holding her daughter’s wrists. Hades’ mark burned. She leaned in a little, as if to kiss Persephone’s cheek. Instead, she said, “Remember that.”
Then she was gone.
Persephone released her breath and her body withered. Even when she had nothing to hide, dealing with her mother was exhausting. She was constantly on edge, preparing for what she would find unacceptable next. Over time, Persephone thought she had hardened herself against her mother’s unwanted words, but sometimes they pierced her.
She distracted herself by focusing on choosing her outfit for the day, a pretty, light pink dress with ruffled sleeves, a pair of white wedge shoe, and a white handbag. On the way out, she stopped to check her reflection in the mirror, pulling glamour from her hair and face, returning her curls and freckles. She smiled, recognizing herself once again.
She left the apartment, feeling happier as she stepped into the morning sun. Persephone didn’t have a car and she didn’t have the ability to teleport like other gods, so she either walked or took the bus when she needed to get around New Athens. Today, since it was warm, she decided to walk.
Persephone loved the city because it was so unlike what she’d grown up with. Here, there were mirrored skyscrapers that sparkled under Helios’ warm rays. There were museums filled with histories Persephone had only learned when she moved here, buildings that looked like art, and sculptures and fountains on almost every block. Even with all the stone and glass and metal, there were acres of parks with lush gardens and trees where Persephone had spent many evenings walking. The fresh air reminded her she was free.
She inhaled now, trying to ease her anxiety. Instead, it traveled to her stomach where it knotted, made worse by the inked bracelet around her wrist. She had to get rid of it before Demeter saw it and her few years of freedom turned into a lifetime in a glass box.
It was usually that fear that kept Persephone cautious.
Except for last night—last night, she’d felt rebellious, and despite this strange mark on her skin she’d found Nevernight and its king to be everything she had ever desired.
She wished that weren’t so—she wished she’d found Hades repulsive. She wished she hadn’t spent last night recalling how his dark eyes had trailed her body, how she’d had to tip her head back just to meet his gaze, how his graceful hands had shuffled the cards.
How would those long fingers feel against her skin? How would it feel to be swept into his strong arms and carried away?
After last night, she wanted things she had never wanted before. Soon, her anxiety was replaced with a fire so unfamiliar and intense, she thought she might turn to ash.
Gods. Why was she thinking like this?
It was one thing to find the God of the Dead attractive, and another thing to…desire him. There was absolutely no way anything could happen between them. Her mother hated Hades, and she knew without asking that a relationship between them was forbidden. She also knew that she needed her mother’s magic more than she needed to quench this fire roaring inside her.
She neared the Acropolis, its dazzling, mirror surface almost blinding her, and made her way up the short flight of steps to the gold and glass doors. The lower level of the floor had a row of turnstiles and security guards—necessary for the businesses located in the high rise, with Zeus’s advertising company, Oak & Eagle Creative, among them. Zeus’s admirers were known to wait in crowds outside the Acropolis just for a glimpse of the God of Thunder. Once, a mob had tried to storm the building to reach him, which was sort of ironic considering Zeus was rarely at the Acropolis and spent most of his time in Olympia.
Zeus’s business wasn’t the only one in need of security, though. New Athens News broke some difficult stories—stories that infuriated gods and mortals alike. Persephone wasn’t aware of any retaliation, but as she moved through security, she knew these mortal guards wouldn’t be able to stop an angry god from storming the sixtieth floor for revenge.
After security, she found a bank of elevators that took her up to her floor. The doors opened into to a large reception area with the words New Athens News overhead. A curved glass desk sat beneath it, and a beautiful woman with long dark curls greeted her with a smile. Her name was Valerie; Persephone remembered her from her interview.
“Persephone,” she said, coming around the desk. “It’s good to see you again. Let me take you back. Demetri is expecting you.”
Valerie directed Persephone to the newsroom beyond the glass partition. There, several metal and glass desks were arranged in perfect lines across the floor. There was a flurry of activity—phones ringing, paper shuffling, keys tapping as writers and editors pounded out their next article. The smell of coffee was strong, like the whole place ran on caffeine and ink. Persephone’s heart thudded in her chest with the thrill of it all.
“I saw you were from New Athens University,” Valerie said. “When do you graduate?”
“In six months.”
Persephone dreamed of the moment she’d walk across that grand stage to receive her degree. It would be the pinnacle of her time among mortals.
“You must be so excited.”
“I am.” Persephone glanced at Valerie. “What about you? When do you graduate?”
“In a couple years,” Valerie said.
“And how long have you been here?”
“About a year,” she said with a smile.
“Do you plan to stay when you graduate?”
“In the building, yes, just a few floors up at Oak & Eagle Creative,” she grinned.
Ah, Zeus’s marketing company had sourced her.
Valerie knocked on the open door of an office at the very back of the room. “Demetri, Persephone’s here.”
“Thanks, Valerie,” Demetri said.
The girl turned to Persephone, smiled, and left, allowing room for her to enter the office and catch her first glimpse of her new boss, Demetri Aetos. He was older, but it was clear he had been a heartbreaker in his prime. His hair was short on the sides, longer on top, and flecked with grey. He wore black-framed glasses, which gave him a scholarly air. He had what Persephone would consider delicate features—thin lips and a smaller nose. He was tall, but thin beneath his blue button-up, khaki slacks, and polka dot bowtie.
“Persephone,” he said, coming around his desk and stretching out his hand. “It’s good to see you again. We are happy to have you.”
“I’m happy to be here, Mr. Aetos,” she took his hand.
“Call me Demetri.”
“Okay…Demetri.” She couldn’t help smiling.
“Please, sit!” He indicated to a chair, and she took a seat. Demetri leaned against his desk, hands in his pockets. “Tell me about yourself.”
When Persephone had first moved to New Athens, she hated this question, because there was a point when all she could talk about was her fears—closed spaces, feeling trapped, escalators. Over time, though, she’d had enough experiences, and it had become easier to define herself by what she liked. “Well, I’m a student at New Athens University. I’m majoring in journalism and I’ll graduate in May…” she started, and Demetri waved his hand.
“Not what’s on your resume.”
He met her gaze, and she noticed that he had blue eyes.
He smiled. “What about you—your hobbies, interests…?”
“Oh.” She blushed and thought for a moment. “I like baking. It helps me relax.”
“Oh? Tell me more. What do you like to bake?”
“Anything, really. I’ve been challenging myself at sugar cookie art.”
His brows rose and his smile stayed. “Sugar cookie art, huh? That’s a thing?”
“Yes, I’ll show you.”
She pulled out her phone and found a few photos. Of course, she had only taken pictures of her best cookies.
Demetri took the phone and swiped through the photos. “Oh, nice. These are great, Persephone.”
He met her gaze as he returned her phone.
“Thank you.” Persephone hated the cheesy smile those words brought to her face, but no one but Lexa had ever told her that.
“So, you like to bake. What else?”
“I like to write,” she said. “Stories.”
“Stories? Like fiction?”
“Yes.”
“Romance?” he guessed.
It was what most people assumed, and the blush on Persephone’s cheeks wasn’t helping her case. “No, actually. I like mysteries.”
Demetri’s brows rose again, almost meeting his hairline. “Unexpected,” he said. “I like it. What do you hope to gain from this internship?”
“Adventure.” She couldn’t help it. The word slipped out, but Demetri seemed pleased.
“Adventure.” He pushed away from his desk. “If adventure is what you desire, New Athens News can give it to you, Persephone. This position can look like anything you wish—it’s yours to craft and manage. If you want to report, you can report. If you want to edit, you can edit. If you want to get coffee, you get coffee.”
Persephone only had an interest in getting coffee for herself, but she didn’t bother telling them that. She didn’t think she could be any more excited, but as Demetri spoke, she had the overwhelming feeling that this internship would change her life.
“I’m sure you know that we find ourselves in the media a lot,” he smiled wryly. “Ironic, considering we are a news source.”
New Athens News was well-known for the number of lawsuits filed against them. There were always complaints of defamation, slander, and invasion of privacy. Believe it or not, those weren’t the worst accusations leveled against the company.
“I couldn’t believe when Apollo accused you of being members of Triad,” Persephone said.
Triad was a group of Impious mortals who actively organized against the gods, supporting fairness, freewill, and freedom. Zeus had declared them as terrorist organization and threatened death to any caught with their propaganda.
“Oh yeah,” Adonis raised his brows and rubbing the back of his neck. “Completely ludicrous, of course, but that didn’t keep people from believing it.”
Probably the worst thing to come from it was that, as a result of Zeus’ condemnation, the Faithful organized into cults and started a manhunt of their own, killing several who were openly Impious, uncaring if they were associated with Triad or not. It was a horrific time, and it had taken Zeus longer than necessary to come out against the cults. New Athens News said so themselves.
“We seek truth, Persephone,” Demetri said. “There’s power in truth. Do you want power?”
He didn’t even know what he was asking.
“Yes,” she said. “I want power.”
This time when Demetri smiled, he showed his teeth. “Then you will do well here.”
Demetri showed Persephone to her desk, which sat just outside his office. She settled in, checking drawers, noting what supplies she would need to ask for or buy, and stored her purse. A new laptop sat on top of the glass desk. It was cool to the touch, and when she opened it, the dark screen reflected the face of a man behind her. She turned in her chair and met a set of wide, surprised eyes.
“Adonis,” she said.
“Persephone.” He looked just as handsome as he had last night, only more professional with his lavender button-up and coffee cup clutched in one hand. “I had no idea you were our new intern.”
“I had no idea you worked here,” she said.
“I’m a senior reporter, mostly focused on entertainment,” he said, rather smugly. “We missed you when you left last night.”
“Oh, yes, sorry. I wanted to prepare for my first day.”
“Not going to fault you for that. Well, welcome.”
“Adonis,” Demetri called as he stepped back into the doorframe of his office. “Mind giving Persephone here a tour of our floor?”
“Not at all.” He smiled at her. “Ready?”
Persephone followed Adonis, eager to witness the fast-paced environment of her new office. She was happy to see a familiar face, even if she had just met him last night. It made her feel more comfortable here.
“We call this the workroom. It’s where everyone follows leads and investigates,” he said.
People looked up from their desks and waved or smiled at her as they passed. Adonis indicated a wall of glassed-in rooms.
“Interview and conference rooms. Break room. Lounge.” He pointed to a huge room with various casual sitting areas and warm, low light. It was cozy, and there were already several people nesting. “You’ll probably prefer to write in here when you get the chance.”
Adonis showed her to the supplies closet, and she raided it for pens, sticky notes, and notebooks. While he helped her carry her supplies back to her desk he asked, “So, what kind of journalism are you interested in?”
“I’m leaning toward investigative reporting,” she said.
“Oh, a detective, huh?”
“I like research.”
“Any subject in particular?” he asked.
Hades.
The god’s name popped into her head without warning, and she knew it was because of the mark on her wrist. She was anxious to get to Nevernight and figure out what it was.
“No, I just…like to solve mysteries,” she answered.
“Well then, maybe you can help us figure out who’s been stealing lunches from the fridge in the break room.”
Persephone laughed.
She got the feeling she was going to like it here.
CHAPTER IV – THE CONTRACT
Less than an hour after leaving the Acropolis, Persephone stood outside Nevernight, pounding on the pristine, black door. She’d taken the bus here and it had nearly driven her insane. She couldn’t sit still. Her mind had stirred up all sorts of fears and anxieties over what the mark might mean. Was this bracelet some sort of…claim? Was it something that would bind her soul to the Underworld? Or was it one of his horrible contracts?
She was about to find out, if someone would just answer this damned door!
“Hello!” she called. “Anyone there?”
She continued to pound on the door until her arms hurt. Just when she thought about giving up, the door flew open, and the ogre who had been staffing it last night glared at her. In the daylight, he was even more gruesome looking. His thick skin sagged around his neck, and he stared at her with small, squinted eyes.
“What do you want?” His words were a snarl and it wasn’t lost on her that he could crush her skull with his hand alone.
“I must speak with Hades,” she said.
The ogre stared at her and then slammed the door closed.
That really pissed her off.
She banged on the door again. “Bastard! Let me in!”
She’d always known ogres existed, and had learned some of their weaknesses by reading a few books from Artemis’s Library at school. One of them? They hated being called names.
The ogre tore the door open again and snarled at her, blowing his stinking rot-breath in her face. He probably thought it would scare her away, and it had doubtless worked on others in the past, but not on Persephone. The mark on her wrist drove her. Her freedom was at stake.
“I demand you let me in!” She curled her fingers into her palms. She considered how much space remained in the doorway. Could she get past the huge creature? If she moved quickly enough, his girth would probably throw him off balance.
“Who are you, mortal, to demand an audience with the God of the Dead?” The creature asked.
“Your lord has placed a mark on me, and I will have words with him.”
The creature laughed, beady eyes shining with amusement.
“You would have words with him?”
“Yes, me. Let me in!”
She was growing angrier by the second.
“We are not open,” the creature responded. “You will have to come back.”
“I will not come back. You will let me in now, you big, ugly ogre!”
Persephone realized her mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The creature’s face changed. He grabbed her by the neck and lifted her off the ground.
“What are you?” he demanded. “A tricky little nymph?”
She clawed at the ogre’s steel skin, but he only pressed his meaty fingers deeper into hers. She couldn’t breathe, her eyes watered, and the only thing she could do was drop her glamour.
When her horns became visible, the creature released her as if she burned. Persephone staggered and inhaled deeply. She pressed a hand to her tender throat but managed to stay on her feet and glare at the ogre in her true form. He lowered his gaze, unable to look upon her or meet her bright, eerie eyes.
“I am Persephone, Goddess of Spring, and if you would like to keep your fleeting life, then you will obey me.”
Her voice shook. She was still rattled from being handled by the ogre. The words she had spoken were her mother’s, used at a time when she’d made threats against a Siren who refused to help her search for Persephone when she wandered away. Persephone had only been a few feet away, hiding behind a shrub, and she’d overheard her mother’s crude words and filed them away—knowing that without powers, words would be her only weapon.
The door opened behind the ogre, and he stepped aside, lowering to his knees as Hades strode into view.
Persephone couldn’t breathe. She’d spent all day remembering what he looked like, recalling his elegant but dark features, and yet her memory was nothing compared to the real thing. She was pretty sure he was wearing the suit from last night, but the tie around his neck was loose, and the buttons of his shirt fell open at the neck, exposing his chest. It was like he’d been interrupted in the middle of undressing.
Then she remembered the woman who had wrapped her arms around his waist—Minthe. Perhaps she had interrupted them. She took great satisfaction from that thought, even though she knew she shouldn’t care.
“Lady Persephone.” His voice was heavy and seductive, and she shivered.
She forced her eyes level with his—they were equals, after all, and she wanted him to know it because she was about to make demands. She found him studying her, his head tilted to the side. Being under his gaze in her true form felt strangely intimate, and she wanted to call up her glamour again. She had made a mistake—been so angry and so desperate, she’d exposed herself.
“Lord Hades,” she managed with a curt nod. She was proud her voice did not shake, though her insides did.
“My lord.” The ogre hung his head. “I did not know she was a goddess. I accept punishment for my actions.”
“Punishment?” Persephone echoed, feeling increasingly exposed in the daylight outside the club. It took Hades a moment to peel his gaze from Persephone and look upon the ogre.
“I laid my hands upon a goddess,” the monster said.
“And a woman at that,” Hades added unhappily. “I will deal with you later. Now, Lady Persephone.” He stepped aside and let her enter Nevernight.
She stood in the dark as the door closed behind her. The air was heavy, charged with an intensity she felt deep in her belly, and thick with his scent. She wanted to inhale and fill her lungs with it. Instead, she held her breath.
Then he spoke against her ear, his lips brushing feather-light over her skin. “You are full of surprises, darling.”
She inhaled sharply and twisted to face him, but when she did, Hades was no longer near her. He had opened the door and was waiting for her to enter the club.
“After you, Goddess,” he said. The word wasn’t used mockingly, but it was full of curiosity.
She passed the god and stepped onto the balcony overlooking the empty floor. The place was immaculate, the floors were polished, the tables glossy. It was impossible to tell that this place had been packed wall-to-wall last night.
She turned and saw Hades waiting. When she met his gaze, he descended the stairs and she followed.
He crossed the floor, heading for the winding stairs and the second floor. She hesitated.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He paused and turned toward her. “My office. I imagine that whatever you have to say to me demands privacy?”
She opened and closed her mouth, looking around the empty club. “This seems pretty private.”
“It isn’t,” he said, and headed up the stairs without another word. She followed.
When they came to the top of the steps, he took a right—away from the room she’d been in the night before—toward a black wall elaborately embellished with gold. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it. Two large doors bore images of vines and flowers curling around Hades’ bident, raised in gold relief. The rest of the wall was patterned with gilt floral designs.
She probably shouldn’t be so surprised that the God of the Dead chose to decorate with flowers—the narcissus was his symbol, after all.
Her eyes were drawn to Hades as he opened one of the gilded doors. She was not eager to be in an enclosed space with him. She didn’t trust her thoughts or her body.
This time, he called her out. “Will you hesitate at every turn, Lady Persephone?”
She glared. “I was just admiring your decor, Lord Hades. I didn’t notice this last night.”
“The doors to my quarters are often veiled during business hours,” he replied, and then indicated the open door. “Shall we?”
Once again, she gathered her courage, and approached. He didn’t leave much room for her to pass, and she brushed against him as she stepped into the room.
She found herself in Hades’ office. The first thing she noticed were the windows that overlooked the club floor. There were none to the outside, but the space was warmly lit and oddly cozy, even with its black marble floor. Maybe it had something to do with the fireplace against the wall. A couch and two chairs made a lovely sitting area, and a fur rug only added to the comforting aesthetic. At the far end of the room, elevated like a throne, was a large obsidian slab that acted as Hades’ desk. From what she could tell, there was nothing on it—no paperwork or pictures. She wondered if he used it at all or if was just for show.
Immediately in front of her was a table upon which a vase of blood red flowers rested. She rolled her eyes at the floral arrangement.
Hades closed the door, and she stiffened. This was dangerous. She should have confronted him downstairs where there was more space, where she was better able to think and breathe without inhaling him. His boots tapped against the floor as he neared, and her body grew taut.
Hades stopped in front of her. His eyes scoured her face, lingering on her lips for a split second before lowering to her neck. When he reached out to touch her, Persephone’s hand clamped down on his arm. It wasn’t that she feared him as much as she feared her reaction to his touch.
Their eyes met.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No,” she said, and he nodded, carefully pulling his arm free of her grasp. He crossed the room, Persephone assumed to put distance between them.
Then she remembered she was in her true form and started to raise her glamour.
“Oh, it’s a little too late to be modest, don’t you think?” Hades said, piercing her with those beautiful dark eyes.