Persephone thought about telling Minthe she didn’t need a guide, but Adonis was here, and he was already curious. She didn’t want him knowing she had been here yesterday, or about her contract with the God of the Dead.
Persephone offered Adonis a glance before following Minthe up the same set of twisting stairs she’d followed Hades up yesterday, and to the ornate gold and black doors of his office. Adonis offered a low whistle.
Today Persephone focused on the gold rather than the flowers. She supposed it was fitting he would choose gold; he was the God of Precious Metals, after all.
Minthe didn’t knock before she entered Hades’ office and strode ahead, hips swaying. Perhaps she hoped to hold Hades’ attention—but Persephone felt his gaze on her the moment she entered the room. He tracked her like prey from his place near the windows, and she wondered how long he had been watching them below.
Judging by how rigid he stood, she guessed he’d been there a while.
Unlike yesterday when she had demanded entrance into Nevernight, Hades’ appearance was pristine. He was an elegant chasm of darkness, and she might have thought to be terrified if she wasn’t so angry with him.
Minthe paused and nodded. “Persephone, my lord.”
Her tone had taken on that sultry edge again. Persephone imagined she used it when she wanted to bend men to her will. Perhaps she forgot Hades was a god. She shifted, turning to face Persephone again, standing just behind the god. “And…her friend, Adonis.”
It was at the mention of Adonis that Hades’ eyes finally left Persephone, and she felt released from a spell. Hades’ gaze slid to her counterpart and darkened before he nodded to Minthe. “You are dismissed, Minthe. Thank you.”
Once she was gone, Hades moved to fill a glass with amber liquid from a crystal decanter. He did not ask them to sit or if they wanted any.
That wasn’t a good sign. He intended this meeting to be very short.
“To what do I owe this…intrusion?” he asked.
Persephone’s eyes narrowed at the word. She wanted to ask him the same—because that’s what he’d done, intruded into her life.
“Lord Hades,” she said, and took her notebook out of her purse—where she’d written down the names of every victim who had called the paper with a complaint. “Adonis and I are from New Athens News. We have been investigating several complaints about you and wondered if you might comment.”
He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped, but said nothing. Beside her, Adonis offered a nervous laugh. “Persephone is investigating. I’m just…here for moral support.”
She glared at him. Coward.
“Is that a list of my offenses?” His eyes were dark and void of emotion. She wondered if this was how he welcomed souls into his world.
She ignored his question and read a few of the names on the list. After a moment, she looked up. “Do you remember these people?”
He took a languid sip of his liquor. “I remember every soul.”
“And every bargain?”
His eyes narrowed and he studied her a moment. “The point, Persephone. Get to the point. You’ve had no trouble of it in the past, why now?”
She felt Adonis look at her, and she glared at Hades, her face flush with anger. He made it sound like they’d known each other far longer than two days. “You agree to offer mortals whatever they desire if they gamble with you and win.”
“Not all mortals and not all desires,” he said.
“Oh, forgive me, you are selective in the lives you destroy.”
His face hardened. “I do not destroy lives.”
“You only make the terms of your contract known after you’ve won! That’s deception.”
“The terms are clear; the details are mine to determine. It is not deception, as you call it. It is a gamble.”
“You challenge their vice. You lay their darkest secrets bare—”
“I challenge what is destroying their life. It is their choice to conquer or succumb.”
She stared at him. He spoke in such a matter-of-fact tone, as if he’d had this conversation thousands of times. “And how to do you know their vice?”
It was the answer she had been waiting for, and at the question, a wicked smile crossed Hades’ face. It transformed him and hinted at the god beneath the glamour. “I see to the soul,” he said. “What burdens it, what corrupts it, what destroys it—and challenge it.”
But what do you see when you look at me?
She hated to think he knew her secrets and she knew nothing about him.
And then she snapped. “You are the worst sort of god!”
Hades flinched, but quickly recovered, eyes flashing with anger.
“Persephone—” Adonis warned, but Hades’ warm baritone quickly drowned him out.
“I am helping these mortals.” He took a deliberate step toward her.
“How? By offering an impossible bargain? Abstain from addiction or lose your life? That’s absolutely ridiculous, Hades.”
“I have had success,” he argued.
“Oh? And what is your success? I suppose it doesn’t matter to you as you win either way, right? All souls come to you at some point.”
His gaze turned stony and he moved to close the distance between them, but before he could, Adonis stepped between him and Persephone. Hades’ eyes ignited, and with a flick of his wrist, Adonis went limp and collapsed to the floor.
“What did you do?” Persephone started to reach for him, but Hades grabbed her wrists, keeping her on her feet and drawing her into him. She held her breath, not wanting to be this close, where she could feel his warmth and smell his scent.
His breath caressed her lips as he spoke. “I’m assuming you don’t want him to hear what I have to say to you—don’t worry, I won’t request a favor when I erase his memory.”
“Oh, how kind of you,” she mocked, craning her neck to meet his gaze. He bent over her, his hold on her wrists the only thing keeping her from falling onto her back.
“What liberties you take with my favor, Lady Persephone.” His voice was low—too low for this kind of conversation. It was the voice of a lover—warm and impassioned.
“You never specified how I had to use your favor.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “I didn’t, though I expected you to know better than to drag this mortal into my realm.”
It was her turn to narrow her eyes. “Do you know him?”
Hades ignored the question. “You plan to write a story about me? Tell me, Lady Persephone, will you detail your experiences with me? How you recklessly invited me to your table, begged me to teach you cards—”
“I did not beg!”
“Will you speak of how you flush from your pretty head to your toes in my presence and how I make you lose your breath—”
“Shut up!”
As he spoke, he leaned closer. “Will you speak of the favor I have given you, or are you too ashamed?”
“Stop!”
She pulled away, and he released her, but he was not through. “You may blame me for the choices you made, but it changes nothing. You are mine for six months—and that means, if you write about me, I will ensure there are consequences.”
She tried hard to keep from shivering at his possessive words. He was calm as he spoke, and it unnerved her because she had the distinct impression he was anything but calm on the inside.
“It is true what they say about you,” she said, her chest rising and falling. “You heed no prayer. You offer no mercy.”
Hades’ face remained blank. “No one prays to the God of the Dead, my lady, and when they do, it is too late.”
Hades waved his hand, and Adonis awoke, inhaling sharply. He sat up quickly and looked around. When his eyes landed on Hades, he scrambled to his feet. “S-sorry,” he said. He looked at the floor and didn’t meet Hades’ gaze.
“I will answer no more of your questions,” Hades said. “Minthe will show you out.”
Hades turned away, and Minthe appeared instantly, hair and eyes aflame, dead set on Persephone. She had the fleeting thought that she and Hades would make quite the intimidating pair and she didn’t like it.
“Persephone,” Hades’ voice commanded her attention as she and Adonis turned to leave. She paused at the door and looked back. “I shall add your name to my guest list this evening.”
He still expected her tonight? Her heart fell into her stomach. What sort of punishment would he add to her sentence for her indiscretion? She had the contract, and she already owed him one favor.
She stared at him for a moment and all his darkness seemed to blur together, except for his eyes, which burned like a fire in the night.
She strode from the office, ignoring Adonis’s shocked expression.
Once they were outside Nevernight, Adonis muttered. “Well, that was interesting.”
Persephone was barely listening. She was too distracted by what had transpired in Hades’ office, appalled by his misuse of power and his corrupt belief that he was helping.
“You said you only met Hades once before?” Adonis asked as they got into his car.
“Huh?”
“Hades, you’ve met him once before?”
She stared at him a moment. Hades had said he would erase Adonis’s memories, but at that question, she wondered if it had worked.
“Yes,” she admitted hesitantly. “Why?”
He shrugged. “There just seemed to be a lot of tension between you two, like…you have a history.”
How was it that a few hours of history between them felt like lifetimes? Why had she invited Hades to the table? She knew she’d regret that decision for the rest of her life. This kind of deal had claws, and there was no way she was getting out of this without scars. There was too much at stake, too much that was forbidden. Persephone’s freedom was wrapped up in this—and the threat came from all sides.
“Persephone?” Adonis asked.
She took a breath. “No. We don’t have history.”
CHAPTER VI – THE STYX
What do you wear on a tour of the Underworld?
It was a question Persephone had been asking herself since she left Hades’ office earlier that day. She should have asked more questions—would they be hiking? What was the weather like below? She was tempted to wear yoga pants just to get a reaction out of him, but then she remembered she was going to Nevernight first, and they had a dress code.
In the end, she picked a short silver dress with a low neckline and heels that sparkled. She stepped off the bus in front of Hades’ club and approached the entrance, ignoring jealous stares from the impossibly long line. The waiting bouncer was not Duncan, but he was still an ogre. Persephone wondered how Hades had punished the monster for his treatment of her. She had to admit, she’d been surprised by the God of the Dead in that moment; he hadn’t defended her because she was a goddess, he’d defended her because she was a woman.
And despite his many flaws, she had to respect that.
“My name is—” she started.
“You need not introduce yourself, my lady,” the ogre said.
Persephone reddened, and hoped that no one in the line closest to her could hear. The ogre reached and opened the door, bowing his head. How did this creature know her? Was it the favor Hades had bestowed upon her? Was it visible somehow?
She met the ogre’s gaze. “What is your name?”
The creature looked surprised. “Mekonnen, my lady.”
“Mekonnen,” she smiled. “Call me Persephone, please.”
His eyes widened. “My lady—I couldn’t. Lord Hades, he would—”
“I will speak with Lord Hades.” She placed her hand on the ogre’s arm. “Call me Persephone.”
Mekonnen offered a crooked smile and then swept his hand out in a dramatic fashion, bowing at the waist. “Persephone.”
She laughed and shook her head. She’d talk to him later about the bowing, but for now, if he never called her ‘my lady’ again, she’d see that as a victory.
She entered the club and made her way to the floor, but just as she came to the end of the steps, a Satyr approached. He was handsome in his black button-up, with shaggy dark hair, a goatee, and dark horns that curled out of his head.
“Lady Persephone?” he asked.
“Just Persephone,” she said. “Please.”
“Apologies, Lady Persephone, I speak as Lord Hades commands.”
Was she going to have this conversation with everyone? “Lord Hades has no say over how I am to be addressed.” She smiled. “Persephone it is.”
The corners of his lips curled. “I like you already. I am Ilias. Lord Hades wishes me to apologize on his behalf. He is otherwise engaged and has advised me to show you to his office. He promises he will not be long.”
She wondered what was holding him up. Perhaps he was sealing another terrible contract with a mortal…or with Minthe. “I’ll just wait at the bar.”
“I’m afraid that will not do.”
“Another command?” she asked.
Ilias offered an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid this one must be obeyed, Persephone.”
That annoyed her, but it wasn’t Ilias’ fault. She smiled at the Satyr. “Only for you, then. Lead the way.”
She followed the Satyr as he cut through the thickening crowd and along the familiar path to Hades’ office. She was surprised when he followed her inside. He walked to the bar where Hades had served himself earlier in the day. “Can I get you anything? Wine, Perhaps?”
“Yes, please—a cab, if you have it.” If she was going to spend the evening with Hades and in the Underworld, she wanted a drink in her hand.
“Coming right up!”
The Satyr was so cheerful, she found it hard to believe he worked for Hades. Then again, Antoni had seemed to revere the god. She wondered if Ilias felt the same.
She watched as he selected a bottle of wine and began to uncork it. After a moment, she asked, “Why do you serve Hades?”
“I do not serve Lord Hades. I work for him. There is a difference.”
Fair enough. “Why do you work for him, then?”
“Lord Hades is very generous,” the Satyr explained. “Don’t believe everything you hear about him. Most of it isn’t true.”
That piqued her interest. “Tell me something that isn’t true.”
The Satyr chuckled as he poured her wine and slid the glass across the table.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He bowed his head a little, placing his hand against his chest. When he looked at her again, she was surprised by his seriousness. “They say Hades is protective of his realm, and while that is true, it isn’t about power. He cares for his people, protects them, and he takes it personally if anyone is harmed. If you belong to him, he will tear the world apart to save you.”
She shivered. “But I don’t belong to him.”
Ilias smiled. “Yes, you do, or I wouldn’t be serving you wine in his office.” He bowed. “If you require anything, you must simply speak my name.”
With that, Ilias was gone, and Persephone was left in the silence. It was quiet in Hades’ office, the fireplace didn’t even pop. She wondered if this was a form of punishment in Tartarus. It would definitely have driven her insane.
After a moment, she walked to the wall of windows that overlooked the main floor of the club. She had the strange feeling that this was how the Olympians once felt when they lived in the clouds and looked down upon the Earth.
She studied the mortals below. At first glance, she saw clusters of friends and couples, their worries banished by the drink in their hand. For them, this was a night of fun and euphoria—not too unlike the one she had on her first visit. For others, though, their visit to Nevernight meant hope.
She picked them out one-by-one. They gave themselves away by their longing glances at the spiral staircase that led to the second floor where Hades made his deals. She noted the slumped shoulders of the stressed, the glistening sweat on the brows of the anxious, the rigid posture of the desperate.
The sight made her sad, but they would be warned soon enough not to fall prey to Hades’ games. She would make sure of it.
She turned from the window, and approached Hades’ desk; the huge piece of obsidian looked as if it had been cleaved from the earth and polished. Persephone wondered if it had come from the Underworld.
She trailed her fingers along its smooth surface. Unlike her desk, which was already covered in sticky notes and personalized with photos, his was free of clutter. She frowned. That was disappointed; she’d hoped to glean something useful from the contents, but this one didn’t even have drawers.
She sighed and turned around, remembering that Minthe had appeared from a passage behind Hades’ desk. Looking at the wall now, there was no indication a door existed. She stepped closer, leaning forward to inspect the wall—seamless.
The door probably responded to Hades’ magic, which meant it should respond to her favor. She ran her hand over the smooth surface—until her hand sank into the wall. She gasped and recoiled quickly, heart beating hard in her chest. She inspected her hand front and back, but found no wounds.
Curiosity overwhelmed her then, and she looked over her shoulder before she tried again, pushing farther into the wall. It gave way like liquid, and when she stepped through on the other side, she found herself in a hallway lined with crystal chandeliers. The light kept her feet in shadow, and when she took a step forward, she fell and landed hard on something sharp.
The impact took her breath away. Panicked, she inhaled in gasps until her breathing returned to normal. It was then she realized she’d fallen on a step. The light overhead barely touched the outline of a staircase.
Persephone struggled to her feet despite a sharp pain in her side. She took off her pumps and left them behind, making her way down the steps at a steep incline. She kept her hand pressed to her side and the other on the wall, afraid that if she fell again, she’d break her ribs.
By the time Persephone reached even ground, her legs and side ached. Ahead, a blinding but hazy light filtered into a cave-like opening. She stumbled toward it, and walked right into a field of tall, green grass speckled with blooming white flowers. In the distance, an obsidian palace jutted against the sky, beautiful but ominous, like clouds full of lightning and thunder. When she looked behind her, she discovered she’d traveled down a great black mountain.
So, this is the Underworld, she thought. It looked so normal, so beautiful. Like a whole other world beneath the world. The sky here was vast and alight, but she couldn’t spot a sun, and the air was neither warm nor cold, though the breeze that moved the grass and her hair made her shiver. It also carried a mix of scents—sweet florals, spice and ash. That was how Hades smelled, too. She wanted to inhale it, but even shallow breaths hurt after her fall.
She wandered farther from the mouth of the mountain, keeping her arms crossed over her chest, hesitant to touch the delicate white flowers for fear they would wilt. The farther she walked, the angrier she became with Hades.
All around her was lush vegetation. Part of her had wanted the Underworld to be full of ash and smoke and fire, but here she found…life.
Why had Hades charged her with such a task if he already excelled at creating it?
She continued with no destination other than the palace. It was the only thing she could see beyond the huge field. She was surprised no one had come after her yet; she’d heard that Hades had a three-headed dog that guarded the entrance to the Underworld. She wondered if it was her favor that helped her pass into this place unknown.
Except that she sort of wished someone would come along, because the longer she walked and the heavier she breathed, the more her side hurt.
Soon she found her way barred by a river. It was an unsettling body of water, dark and churning, and so wide she could only see the vague coloring of foliage on the other side.
This must be the Styx, she thought. It marked the boundaries of the Underworld and was known to be guarded by Charon, a daimon, also called a guiding spirit. He led souls into the Underworld upon his ferry, but Persephone saw no daimon and no ferry. There were only flowers—an abundance of narcissus spilled over the side of the river.
How was she supposed to cross this? She looked back at the mountain—she’d come too far to turn back now. She was a strong swimmer, except that the pain in her side might slow her down. Aside from the width, it looked rather unassuming—just dark, deep water.
Persephone stepped closer to the bank. It was wet, slippery, and steep. The flowers growing along the incline created a sea of white—a strange contrast against the water, which looked like oil. She tested it with her foot before slipping into the river completely. The water was cold, and her breathing became labored, which made the pain in her side worse.
Just as she set a decent pace, something clamped down on her ankle and pulled. Before she could scream, she was dragged under the water.