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.
He tugged his tie free and she watched it slip from his neck before lifting her eyes to his. He wasn’t smirking like she expected. He looked…primal. Like a starved animal who had finally cornered his prey.
She swallowed. “Did I interrupt something?”
She wasn’t sure she wanted an answer.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I was just about to go to bed when I heard you demanding entrance to my club.”
Bed? It was well past noon.
“Imagine my surprise when I find the goddess from last night on my doorstep.”
“Did the gorgon tell you?”
She stepped further into the room, glaring. Hades’ lips quirked, amused.
“No. Euryale did not. I recognized your magic as Demeter’s, but you are not Demeter.” Then he tilted his head again. “When you left, I consulted a few texts. I had forgotten Demeter had a daughter. I assumed you were Persephone. Question is, why aren’t you using your own magic?”
“Is that why you did this?” she demanded, removing the bracelet she’d used to cover the mark on her skin and holding up her arm.
Hades smirked.
Actually smirked.
Persephone wanted to attack him. She clenched her hands at her sides to keep from vaulting across the room.
“No,” he said. “That is the result of losing against me.”
“You were teaching me to play,” she argued.
“Semantics,” he shrugged. “The rules of Nevernight are very clear, Goddess.”
“They are anything but clear, and you are an asshole!”
Hades’ eyes darkened. Apparently, he didn’t like being called names any more than the ogre did. He pushed away from the desk, striding toward her, and Persephone took a step back.
“Don’t call me names, Persephone,” he said, and then reached for her wrist. He traced the bracelet all around, making her shiver. “When you invited me to your table, you entered into an agreement. If you had won, you could have left Nevernight with no demands on your time. But you didn’t, and now we have a contract.”
She swallowed, considering every horrible thing she’d heard about Hades’ contracts and his impossible terms. What darkness would he pull from deep inside her?
“And what does that mean?” Her voice was still biting.
“It means I must choose terms.”
“I don’t want to be in a contract with you,” she said between her teeth. “Take it off!”
“I can’t.”
“You put it there, you can remove it.”
His lips twitched.
“You think this is funny?”
“Oh, darling, you have no idea.”
The word darling slid across her skin and she shivered again. He seemed to notice, because he smiled a little bit more.
“I am a goddess,” she tried again. “We are equals.”
“You think our blood changes the fact that you willingly entered into a contract with me? These things are law, Persephone.” She glared at him. “The mark will dissolve when the contract has been fulfilled.” He said it like that should make it all better.
“And what are your terms?” Just because she was asking didn’t mean she was going to agree.
Hades’ jaw was tight. He seemed to be restraining himself—maybe he wasn’t used to being ordered around. When he lifted his head and stared down at her, she knew she was in trouble.
“Create life in the Underworld,” he said at last.
“What?” She hadn’t been prepared for that, though she probably should have been. Wasn’t her greatest weakness her lack of power? An irony considering her Divinity.
“Create life in the Underworld,” he said again. “You have six months—and if you fail or refuse, then you will become a permanent resident of my realm.”
“You want me to grow a garden in your realm?” she demanded.
He shrugged again. “I suppose that is one way to create life.”
She glared at him. “If you steal me away to the Underworld, you will face my mother’s wrath.”
“Oh, I am sure,” he mused. “Much like you will feel her wrath when she discovers what you’ve so recklessly done.”
Persephone’s cheeks flushed. He was right. The difference between them was that Hades didn’t seem at all fazed by the threat. Why should he be? He was one of the Three—the most powerful gods in existence. A threat from Demeter was a pebble thrown.
She straightened, raising her chin and meeting his gaze head on. “Fine.” She felt the pressure of Hades’ hand on her wrist like a shackle and tore her hand free. “When do I start?”
Hades’ eyes glittered. “Come tomorrow. I’ll show you the way to the Underworld.”
“It will have to be after class,” she said.
“Class?”
“I’m a student at New Athens University.”
Hades looked at her curiously and nodded his head. “After…class, then.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. As much as she hated him right now, it was hard not to enjoy the sight of him. “What about your bouncer?”
“What about him?”
“I’d prefer he not remember me in this form,” she lifted her hand to her horns, then called up her glamour. It relaxed her a little to be in her mortal form.
Hades watched the transformation as if he were studying the form of an ancient sculpture. “I’ll erase his memory…after he is punished for his treatment of you.”
Persephone shivered. “He didn’t know I was a goddess.”
“But he knew you were a woman and he let his anger get the best of him. So he will be punished.” Hades said it as a matter-of-fact, and she knew there was no arguing.
“What will it cost me?” she asked, because she knew who she was dealing with, and she had just requested a favor from the God of the Dead.
His lips twitched. “Clever, darling. You know how this works. The punishment? Nothing. His memory? A favor.”
“Don’t call me darling,” she snapped. “What kind of favor?”
“Whatever I want,” he said. “To be used at a future time.”
She considered this for a moment. What would Hades want from her? What could she possibly have to offer him? Maybe it was that thought that made her agree, or the fear that her mother would discover she’d showed her true form. Either way, she said, “Deal.”
Hades smiled. “I will have my driver take you home.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is.”
She pressed her lips together. “Fine,” she gritted out. She didn’t really feel like taking the bus again, but the idea that Hades would know where she lived was unsettling.
Then the god clasped her shoulders, leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. The move was so sudden she lost her balance. Her fingers tangled into his shirt to steady herself, nails grazing the skin of his chest. His body was hard and warm, and his lips were soft on her skin. When he pulled away, she couldn’t gather herself enough to be angry.
“What was that for?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
Hades maintained that infuriating smirk, like he knew she couldn’t think straight, and brushed a finger across her heated cheek.
“For your benefit. Next time, the door will open for you. I’d rather you not piss Duncan off. If he hurts you again, I will have to kill him, and it’s hard to find a good ogre.”
Persephone could just imagine.
“Lord Hades, Thanatos is looking for you—oh—”
A woman entered the office from a hidden door behind his desk. She was beautiful, her hair parted in the center, as red as flame. Her eyes were sharp and brows arched, lips full and lush and crimson. All her features were pointed and angled. She was a nymph, and when she looked at Persephone, there was hatred in her eyes.
It was then Persephone realized she was still standing close to Hades, her hands tangled in his shirt. When she tried to pull away, his hands tightened on her.
“I did not know you had company,” Minthe added tightly.
Hades didn’t look at the woman. Instead, his eyes remained on Persephone. “A minute, Minthe.”
Persephone’s first thought was—so this is Minthe. She was beautiful in a way Persephone wasn’t—a way that promised seduction and sin—and she loathed the jealousy she felt.
Her second thought was—why did he need a minute? What more could he have to say?
Persephone didn’t see Minthe leave because she couldn’t force her gaze away from Hades.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Hades said. “Why are you using your mother’s magic?”
It was her turn to smile. “Lord Hades,” she said, drawing a finger down his chest. She wasn’t sure what made her do it, but she was feeling brave. “The only way you are getting answers from me is if I decide to enter into another gamble with you, and at the moment, it’s not likely.”
Then she took the lapels of his jacket and straightened it, her eyes falling to the red polyanthus flower in the pocket of his suit jacket. She looked up at him and whispered. “I think you will regret this, Hades.”
She touched the flower and Hades’ eyes followed the movement. When her fingers brushed the petals, the flower wilted.
