No, she closed her eyes against the thought. She couldn’t fail. She wouldn’t. She would see the Underworld tonight and make a plan. Just because she couldn’t coax a bloom from the ground with magic did not mean she couldn’t use other methods. Mortal methods. She would just have to be careful. She would need gloves—it was that or kill every plant she touched—and while the garden ruminated, she would look for other ways to fulfill the contract.
Or break it.
She did not know much about Hades except what her mother and mortals believed about him. He was private, he did not like intrusions, and he did not like the media.
He was really going to dislike what she had planned for today, and suddenly she had the thought—could she make Hades mad enough that he would release her from this contract?
Persephone passed through the entrance of New Athens University, a set of six columns crowned with a piece of pointed stone, and entered the courtyard. The Library of Artemis rose in front of her, a pantheon-style building that she had taken pleasure in exploring her Freshman year. The campus was easy to navigate, laid out like a seven-point star—the library being one of the seven points.
Persephone always cut through the center of the star, which was the Garden of the Gods, an acre of land full of the favored flowers of the Olympians, and marble statues. Though Persephone had walked this path many times to class, today felt different. The garden was like an oppressor, and the flowers were enemies, their smells mixing in the air—the thick scent of honeysuckle mingled with the sweet smell of the rose accosting her senses.
Did Hades expect her to grow something this grand? Would he really sentence her to life in the Underworld if she failed to deliver his request in six months?
She knew the answer. Hades was a strict god; he believed in rules and boundaries, and he’d set them yesterday, not even fearing the threat of her mother’s wrath.
Persephone passed Poseidon’s pool and its towering statue of a very naked Ares with his helm atop his head and shield in hand. It wasn’t the only statue of a naked god in the garden, and normally she gave it little thought, but today her gaze was drawn to the large horns atop Ares’ head. Her own felt heavy under the glamour she wore. She’d heard a rumor when she moved to New Athens that horns were the source of the Divine’s power.
Persephone wished that were true. It wasn’t even about having power now. It was about freedom.
“It’s just that the Fates have chosen a different path for you, my flower,” Demeter had said when Persephone’s magic never manifested.
“What path?” Persephone asked. “There is no path, only the walls of your glass prison! Do you keep me hidden away because you’re ashamed?”
“I keep you safe because you have no power, my flower. There is a difference.”
Persephone still wasn’t sure what sort of path the Fates had decided for her, but she knew she could be safe without being imprisoned, and she guessed at some point Demeter had agreed, because she’d let Persephone go—albeit, on a long leash.
She tensed when she smelled her mother’s magic—bitter and floral. Demeter was near.
“Mother,” Persephone said, when Demeter appeared beside her.
She wore a human glamour—not something she often did. It wasn’t that Demeter disliked mortals—she was incredibly protective of her followers—she merely knew her status as a goddess. Demeter’s mortal mask was not so different from her Divine appearance. She kept the same smooth hair, the same bright green eyes, the same luminous skin, but her antlers were veiled. She chose a fitted emerald dress and gold heels. To onlookers, she had all the appearances of a sharp businesswoman.
“What are you doing here?” Persephone asked.
“Where were you yesterday?” Demeter’s voice was curt.
“It sounds like you already think you know the answer, so why don’t you tell me?”
“Do not treat this with sarcasm, my dear. This is very serious—why were you at Nevernight?”
Persephone tried to keep her heart from racing. Had a nymph seen her? “How do you know I was at Nevernight?”
“Never mind how I knew. I asked you a question.”
“I went for work, Mother. I must return today, too.”
“Absolutely not,” Demeter said. “Need I remind you a condition of your time here was that you stay away from the gods? Especially Hades.”
She said his name like a curse, and Persephone flinched. “Mother, I have to do this. It’s my job.”
“Then you will quit.”
“No.”
Demeter’s eyes widened, and her mouth hung open. Persephone was sure that in all her twenty-four years she’d never told her mother no. “What did you say?”
“I like my life, Mother. I’ve worked hard to get where I am.”
“Persephone, you do not need to live this mortal life. It is…changing you.”
“Good. That’s what I want. I want to be me, whatever that is, and you’re going to have to accept that.”
Demeter’s face was stone cold, and Persephone knew what she was thinking—I do not have to accept anything but what I want.
“I have heeded your warnings about the gods, especially Hades,” Persephone added. “What are you afraid of? That I’ll allow him to seduce me? Have more faith in me.”
Demeter paled and hissed, “This is serious, Persephone.”
“I am being serious, Mother.” She checked her watch. “I have to go. I’ll be late for class.”
Persephone sidestepped her mother and left the garden. She could feel Demeter’s gaze burning her back as she went.
She would regret standing up for herself, she was sure of it. Question was, what punishment would the Goddess of Harvest choose?
***
Class went by in a blur of furious notes and droning lectures. Normally Persephone was attentive, but she had a lot on her mind. Her conversation with her mother was gnawing away at her insides.
Though Persephone was proud she stood up for herself, she knew Demeter could whisk her away with a snap of her fingers back to the glass greenhouse. She was also thinking about her conversation with Lexa, and how she could start research for her article. She knew an interview would be essential, but she wasn’t eager to be in an enclosed space with Hades again.
She was still feeling off at lunch, and Lexa noticed.
“What’s wrong?”
She considered how to tell her friend her mother was spying on her. Finally, she said, “I found out my mom’s been tracking me. She…sorta found out about Nevernight.”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t she realize you’re an adult?”
“I don’t think my mother has ever seen me as an adult.” And she didn’t think she ever would, evident by her use of the nickname Kore.
“Don’t let her make you feel bad for having fun, Persephone. Definitely don’t let her keep you from doing what you want.”
But it was harder than that. Obeying meant she could stay in the mortal world, and that’s what Persephone wanted, even if it wasn’t as fun.
After lunch, Lexa came with Persephone to the Acropolis. She claimed it was to see where she worked, but Persephone suspected she wanted a glimpse of Adonis—and she got one, because he intercepted them as they passed the front desk.
“Hey,” he smiled. “Lexa, right? It’s good to see you again.”
Gods. She couldn’t blame Lexa one bit for falling under Adonis’s spell. This man was charming, and it helped that he was remarkably handsome.
Lexa grinned. “I couldn’t believe it when Persephone told me she worked with you. What a coincidence.”
He looked at Persephone. “It was definitely a pleasant surprise. You know what they say, small world, huh?”
“Adonis, a moment?” Demetri called from his doorway, and they all looked in his direction.
“Coming!” Adonis glanced back at Lexa. “Good to see you. Let’s all go out sometime.”
“Careful, we’ll hold you to that,” she warned.
“I hope you do.”
Adonis hurried off to join Demetri, and Lexa looked at Persephone. “Tell me—is he as handsome as Hades?”
Persephone didn’t mean to scoff, but there was no comparison. She also didn’t mean to offer a resounding, “No.”
But she did.
Lexa raised a brow and smiled, then leaned forward and pecked Persephone on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight. Oh, and make sure you follow up with Adonis. He’s right—we should go out together.”
With Lexa gone, Persephone deposited her belongings at her desk and went to make coffee. Post lunch, she was feeling tired, and she needed all her energy for what she was about to do.
When she returned to her desk, Adonis stepped out of Demetri’s office. “So, about this weekend.”
“This weekend?” she echoed.
“I thought we could go to the Trials,” he said. “You know, with Lexa. I’ll invite Aro, Xeres, and Sybil.”
The Trials were a series of competitions whose contestants hoped to represent their territory in the upcoming Pentathlon. Persephone had never been, but she’d seen and read coverage in the past. “Oh…well, actually, before we discuss that, I was hoping you might help me with something.”
Adonis brightened. “Sure, what’s up?
“Has anyone here ever written about the God of the Dead?”
Adonis laughed, then stopped himself. “Oh, you’re serious?”
“Very.”
“I mean, it’s kind of hard.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not like Hades forces these humans into gambling with him. They do so willingly and then face the consequences.”
“That doesn’t mean the consequences are right or even fair,” Persephone argued.
“No, but no one wants to end up in Tartarus, Persephone.”
That seemed to contradict what Demetri had to say on her first day—that New Athens News always sought truth. To say she was disappointed was an understatement, and Adonis must have noticed.
“Look…if you’re serious about this, I can send you what I have on him.”
“You’d do that?” she asked.
“Of course,” he grinned. “On one condition—you let me read the article you write.”
She had no problem sending Adonis her article, and welcomed the feedback. “Deal.”
Adonis delivered. Shortly after he returned to his desk, she received an email with notes and voice recordings detailing deals the god had made with several mortals. Not everyone who wrote or called were victims of Hades; some were families of victims whose lives had been cut short due to a lost bargain.
In total, she counted seventy-seven different cases. As she read and listened, a common thread emerged from interviews: all the mortals who’d gone to Hades for help were in desperate need of something—money or health or love. Hades would agree to grant whatever the mortal asked if they won against him at a game of his choice.
But if they lost, they were at his mercy. And Hades seemed to delight in offering an impossible challenge.
An hour in, Adonis dropped by to check on her. “Finding any of it useful?”
“I want to interview Hades,” she said. “Today, if possible.”
She felt impatient—the sooner she got this article out, the better.
Adonis paled. “You want to…what?”
“I’d like to give Hades a chance to offer his side of things,” she explained. Everything Adonis had on him was from the perspective of the mortal, and she was curious how the god saw bargains and mortals and their vices. “You know, before I write my article.”
Adonis blinked a couple times and finally found his words. “That’s not how this works, Persephone. You can’t just show up at a god’s place of business and demand an audience. There’s a…there are rules.”
She raised a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Rules?”
“Yes, rules. We have to submit a request to his PR manager.”
“A request that will be denied, I’m assuming?”
Adonis glanced away, shifting on his feet as if Persephone’s questioning made him uncomfortable.
“Look, if we go there, at least we can say we tried to reach him for comment and he denied us. I can’t write this article without trying, and I don’t want to wait.”
Not when I can enter Nevernight at will, she thought. Hades would regret kissing her when he saw how she planned to use his favor.
After a moment, Adonis sighed. “Okay. I’ll let Demetri know we’re heading out.”
He started to turn, and Persephone stopped him. “You haven’t…told Demetri about this, have you?”
“Not that you plan to write this article.”
“Can we keep it a secret? For now?”
Adonis smiled. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, Persephone.”
***
Adonis parked on the curb in front of Nevernight, his red Lexus glaring against the black backdrop of Hades’ obsidian tower. Even though Persephone was determined to follow through with this interview, she had a moment of doubt. Was she being too bold in assuming she could even use Hades’ favor in this way?
Adonis came up beside her. “Looks different in the daylight, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said absently. The tower did look different—harsher. A jagged cut in a sparkling city.
Adonis tried the door, but it was locked, so he knocked and offered no time for someone to answer before retreating. “Looks like no one’s home.”
He definitely did not want to be here, and Persephone wondered why he hesitated to confront the god when he came to his club so often at night.
As Adonis turned away from the door, Persephone tried it—and it opened.
“Yes!” She hissed to herself.
Adonis looked back at her, puzzled. “How did you…it was locked!”
She shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t pull hard enough. Come on.”
As she disappeared into Nevernight she heard Adonis say, “I swear it was locked.”
She descended the stairs, entering the now-familiar club. Her heels clicked against the glossy black floor and she looked up into the darkness of the tall ceiling, knowing that this floor could be seen from Hades office.
“Hello? Anybody home?” Adonis called.
Persephone cringed and resisted the urge to tell Adonis to shut up. She’d had it in her head that she’d go upstairs to Hades’ office and catch him off guard, though she wasn’t so sure that was a great idea. She considered yesterday, when he’d answered the door disheveled.
At least if she surprised him, she might learn the truth about whatever was going on between him and Minthe.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the redheaded nymph emerged from the darkness of the room, dressed in a fitted black dress and heels. She was just as lovely as Persephone remembered. The Goddess of Spring had met and befriended many nymphs, but none of them looked quite as severe as Minthe; she wondered if that was the result of serving the God of the Underworld.
“Can I help you?” Minthe had an inviting and smoky voice, but it didn’t hide the sharpness of her tone.
“Hi,” Adonis brushed past Persephone, suddenly finding his confidence and extending his hand. Persephone was surprised and slightly frustrated when Minthe took his hand and offered a smile. “Adonis.”
“Minthe.”
“Do you work here?” he asked.
“I am Lord Hades’ assistant,” she replied.
Persephone looked away and rolled her eyes. Assistant seemed like a loaded word.
“Really?” Adonis sounded genuinely surprised. “But you’re so beautiful.”
It really wasn’t Adonis’s fault. Nymphs had that effect on people, but Persephone was on a mission and growing impatient.
Adonis held Minthe’s hand longer than necessary until Persephone cleared her throat, and he dropped it.
“Uh…and this is Persephone.” He gestured to her. Minthe said nothing, she didn’t even nod. “We’re from New Athens News.”
“So, you’re a reporter?” Her eyes flashed, and Adonis probably took it as interest in his occupation, but Persephone knew otherwise.
“We’re actually here to speak with Hades,” she said. “Is he around?”
Minthe’s eyes burned into her. “Do you have an appointment with Lord Hades?”
“No.”
“Then I’m afraid you cannot speak to him.”
“Oh, well, that’s too bad,” Adonis said. “We’ll come back when we have an appointment. Persephone?”
She ignored Adonis, glaring at Minthe. “Inform your lord that Persephone is here and would like to speak with him.” It was a command, but Minthe smiled, unfazed, looking at Adonis.
“Your counterpart must be new and therefore ignorant to how this works. See, Lord Hades does not give interviews.”
“Of course,” Adonis wrapped his fingers around Persephone’s wrist. “Let’s go, Persephone. I told you, there is a protocol we need to follow.”
Persephone looked at Adonis’s fingers wrapped around her wrist and then met his gaze. She wasn’t sure what look she gave him, but her eyes burned, and anger rose hot in her blood. “Let. Me. Go.”
His eyes widened and he released her. She turned her attention back to Minthe.
“I am not ignorant to how this works,” Persephone said. “But I demand to speak with Hades.”
“Demand?” Minthe crossed her arms over her chest, brows rising to her hairline, and smiled wickedly. “Fine. I’ll tell him you demand to see him, but only because I will take great satisfaction in hearing him turn you away.”
She twisted on her heels and melted into the darkness. Persephone wondered for a moment if she really was going to tell Hades, or send an ogre to kick them out.
“Why would Hades know your name?” Adonis asked.
She didn’t look at him as she replied, “I met him the same night I met you.”
She could feel his questions building in the air between them. She just hoped he wouldn’t ask them.
Minthe returned looking pissed, and that filled Persephone with glee, especially since the nymph had been so sure Hades would turn them away.
She lifted her chin and said tightly, “Follow me.”