Persephone manifested on the doorstep of Sybil’s apartment with Hades.
A shiver shook her spine.
It was a combination of the cold and thoughts from the last hour spent with the God of the Dead on his knees. She should be used to Hades’ wickedness, but he still found ways to surprise her—pleasuring her as she stood, one leg drawn over his shoulder. His tongue had tasted and teased, devoured and savored. She’d pressed into him, unable to keep her body from bearing down upon his mouth. She’d come, coaxed by a growl that erupted from deep in Hades’ chest. She’d finished with enough time to finish the cupcakes for Sybil’s party.
Another shiver wracked her body. The cold was piercing, like needles sinking into her skin. It was unnatural weather for July and nothing—not even the happiness Hades’ love had inspired—could quell the dread she felt as the snow continued to fall.
It’s the start of war.
They were Hades’ words; spoken the night he had proposed, this time on a bent knee with a ring. It had been the best moment of her life but overshadowed by Demeter’s magic. Suddenly, the tips of Persephone’s fingers tingled with power, reacting to the sudden shiver of rage that shot up her back.
Hades’ hand tightened around her waist.
“Are you well?” he asked, no doubt sensing the surge in her magic.
Persephone had not yet completely managed to keep her magic from reacting to her emotions.
“Persephone?”
Hades’ voice drew her attention and she realized she had not answered his earlier question. She tilted her head, meeting his dark gaze. Warmth blossomed in the pit of her stomach as her eyes fell to his lips and the inviting stubble on his jaw, recalling how it felt against her skin, a delicious friction that teased and taunted.
“I am well,” she replied.
Hades raised a doubtful brow.
“I am,” she said. “I was just thinking about my mother.”
“Do not ruin your evening thinking of her, my darling.”
“It is a little hard to ignore her given the weather, Hades.”
He lifted his head and stared at the sky for a moment, his body going rigid beside hers, and she knew he was just as concerned but she didn’t ask for his thoughts on the matter. Tonight, she wanted to have fun because something told her, that beyond this night, nothing would be.
She knocked, but instead of seeing Sybil, a blond man answered the door. His hair fell in soft waves just above his shoulders. His eyes were hooded and blue, and his jaw marked by stubble. He was handsome, but a complete stranger.
Weird, Persephone thought. She was certain this was Sybil’s apartment.
“Um, I think we might have the wrong—”
“Persephone, right?” the man asked.
She hesitated and Hades’ arm tightened around her.
“Persephone!” Sybil popped up behind the man, ducked under his arm and pulling her into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
There was a note of relief in her voice. Sybil pulled away and her eyes shifted to Hades.
“I’m glad you could come, too, Hades.” Sybil’s voice was quiet and shy. Persephone was a little surprise, given that she was no stranger to the gods. She had served Apollo only months ago as his oracle…until he striped her of her powers of prophecy after she refused to sleep with him. His behavior made him the subject of Persephone’s article, but her decision to write about the God of the Sun had been a disaster.
Turns out, he was beloved, and Persephone’s article seen as slander. Not only that, Hades had been furious—so furious that he had held Persephone prisoner in the Underworld until he could bargain with Apollo so the god would not seek revenge.
That experience had taught Persephone a lot of lessons, chiefly, that the world was not ready to believe a woman in pain. It was one of the reasons she’d started The Advocate.
“I appreciate the invitation,” Hades replied.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” the blond stranger asked.
Persephone noted the way Sybil froze. It was only a second, as if she had forgotten the man was present, and a small, apologetic smile formed upon her face before she turned.
“Persephone, Hades, this is Ben.”
“Hi,” he said, extending his hand for them to shake. “I’m Sybil’s boyfrie—”
“Friend, Ben is a friend,” Sybil said quickly.
“Well, soon-to-be-boyfriend,” Ben said, grinning, but the look Sybil gave her was desperate. Persephone’s gaze slid from the oracle to the mortal as she accepted his clammy, outstretched hand.
“It’s…nice to meet you.”
Ben shifted toward Hades. The God of the Dead looked down at his hand. “You do not want to shake my hand, mortal.”
His eyes widened a little, and an awkward silence followed, but only for a beat before Ben’s smile returned.
“Well, shall we go in?” he asked.
He stood aside, gesturing for everyone to enter. Persephone arched her brow at Hades as they stepped into the warm apartment. Hades had the ability to see to the soul, and Persephone wondered what he glimpsed when he looked at Ben, though she thought she could guess.
Serial killer.
“What?” Hades asked.
“You promised to behave,” she said.
“It is not in my nature to appease mortals,” Hades replied.
“But it is in your nature to appease me,” Persephone said.
“Alas,” he said, his voice low. “You are my greatest weakness.”
The entrance of Sybil’s apartment was a short hallway that led to a kitchen and a small living room. The space was mostly empty, save for a loveseat and a television. While it was nowhere close to the extravagance she’d lived in with Apollo, it was quaint and cozy. It reminded Persephone of the apartment she’s shared with Lexa for three years.
“Wine?” Sybil asked, and Persephone was glad for the distraction.
“Please,” she said, tamping down the ache that had formed in her chest at the thought of her dead best friend.
“For you, Hades?”
“Whiskey…whatever you have is fine. Neat…please,” he added as if it were an afterthought. Persephone grimaced, but at least he’d asked nicely.
“Neat?” Ben asked. “Real whiskey drinkers at least add water.”
Persephone’s heart pounded as she watched Hades’ eyes connect with Ben’s. “I add the blood of mortals.”
“Of course, Hades,” Sybil said quickly, plucking a bottle from the collection on the counter and handing it to him. “You’ll probably need it.”
“Thank you, Sybil,” he said, quickly loosening the cap to drink.
She poured Persephone a glass of wine and slid it across the counter.
“So, how did you meet Ben?” Persephone asked, picking up her wine.
Sybil started to respond when Ben jumped in.
“We met at Four Olives where I work,” he said. “It was love at first sight for me.”
Persephone choked on her drink, the wine burning the back of her throat as she spit it back into the glass. Her eyes connect with Sybil’s, who looked mortified, but before either of them could speak, a knock sounded at the door.
“Thank the gods,” Sybil said, practically racing to the entrance, leaving Persephone and Hades alone with the mortal.
“I know she isn’t convinced yet,” Ben said. “But it’s only a matter of time.”
“What makes you so sure?” Persephone countered.
His back straightened as he proclaimed. “I’m an oracle.”
“Oh fuck,” Hades grumbled.
Persephone elbowed him.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, leaving the kitchen with his bottle of whiskey.
Ben leaned across the bar. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Persephone asked, her nose still burned.
Ben shrugged a shoulder. “It’s…just a feeling.”
There was a long, awkward silence that passed between them and just when Persephone started to excuse herself to go in search of Hades, the so-called oracle spoke.
“You’ve lost,” he said.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes unfocused and glazed. “You have lost, and you will lose again.”
Persephone’s jaw clenched.
“The loss of one friend will lead you to lose many—and you, you will cease to shine, an ember taken by the night.”
Her anger slowly dissipated, turning to disgust as she recognized his words.
“Why are you quoting Leonidas?”
The television show was popular and had been one of Lexa’s favorites about a Spartan king and his war with the Persians. It was a drama full of love and lust and blood.
Ben blinked, his eyes coming into focus.
“What did you just say?” he asked, and Persephone rolled her eyes. She hated false prophets. They were dangerous and made a joke of the real practice of prophecy. She started to speak but was interrupted by Hermes cry of excitement.
“Sephy!” The God of Mischief threw his arms around her neck, squeezing her. He inhaled deeply. “You smell like Hades…and sex.”
She shoved against the god. “Stop being creepy, Hermes!”
The god chuckled and released her, his sparkling gaze shifting to Ben.
“Oh, and who is this?” His interest evident in the peak of his voice.
“This is Ben. Sybil’s…” She wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence, but she didn’t need to because no one was listening anyway. Ben was already grinning at the God of Mischief.
“Hermes, right?” he asked.
“So, you’ve heard of me?”
Persephone rolled her eyes. He’d asked her the same thing when they’d first met. She had never asked why he said it, but she had a feeling it was to invite some kind of compliment considering everyone had heard of him.
She was not surprised when it backfired.
“Of course,” Ben replied. “Are you still the Messenger of the Gods or do they use email?”
Persephone’s brows rose and she pressed her lips together to keep from giggling.
Hermes narrowed his eyes.
“It’s Lord Hermes to you,” he said, and twisted away, muttering to Sybil as he passed. “You can keep him.”
The God of Thieves was not upset for long when he noticed Hades standing in Sybil’s living room. “Well, well, well, look who decided to darken the corner—literally.”
Hades did look out of place in Sybil’s apartment, much like he had the night he had come to her and Lexa’s to make cookies. At least he’d tried to fit in that night, wearing a black shirt and sweats. Tonight, he insisted on wearing a suit.
“What happened to those sweats you wore to my house?” Persephone had asked before they left.
“I…threw them out.”
Her eyes widened.
“Why?”
Hades shrugged. “I did not think there would be a time when I would need them again.”
She raised a brow. “Do you mean to say you never thought you would hang out with my friends again?”
“No.” He looked down at his suit. “Do I not meet your expectations?”
She had giggled then. “No, by far, you exceed them.”
He’d grinned then and she thought her heart might beat right out of her chest. There was nothing as beautiful as Hades when he smiled.
Another knock announced the arrival of more guests—this time, Helen. She wore a long, beige coat with a fur collar that she slipped off and folded over her arm. Beneath the jacket, was a long-sleeved white shirt and a camel-colored skirt with leggings. Her long hair was curled and fell in honey-colored waves over her shoulders. She’d brought wine and handed it to Sybil with a kiss on the cheek.
The two had not known each other long, but like everyone in Persephone’s circle, they’d become fast friends.
“This weather,” Helen said. “It’s almost…unnatural.”
“Yes,” Persephone said, quiet, a wave of guilt slamming into her. “It’s awful.”
Another knock sent Sybil to the door and she came back with Leuce and Zofie in tow. The two were now roommates, and Persephone had yet to decide if it was actually a good idea. Leuce had only recently returned to the mortal world after having been a tree for centuries, and Zofie had no real understanding of the humans, having been raised among female warriors. Still, the two were learning, from simple things like how to use the crosswalk and order food to more difficult aspects of mortal life like socializing and self-control.
Leuce was a naiad—a water nymph. She had white hair and lashes and pale skin that made her blue eyes look as bright as the sun. When Persephone had first met her, she was combative, and her pretty features were severe and angled. Overtime though, she had gotten to know the nymph and her attitude toward her softened, despite the fact that she had been Hades’ lover. Unlike Minthe, however, Persephone was certain there was no affection left between the two—a fact that made taking her under her wing a far easier a decision. Tonight, she wore a simple, light blue dress which made her look like an ice queen.
When Zofie entered the apartment, she was smiling, only to falter when she noticed Hades standing in Sybil’s living room.
“My lord!” she exclaimed and bowed quickly.
“You don’t have to do that here, Zofie,” Persephone said.
“But…he is the Lord of the Underworld.”
“We’re all aware,” Hermes said. “Look at him—he’s the only goth in the room.”
Hades glared.
“Since everyone’s here, let’s play a game!” Hermes said.
“What’s the game?” Helen asked. “Poker?”
“No!” Everyone said in unison, eyes shifting to Hades, who glared as if he wished to incinerate them. Persephone could just imagine the amount of work she was going to have to put in later to make up for his suffering.
“Let’s play Never Have I Ever!” Hermes said, he reached over the breakfast bar to the kitchen counter, clasping several bottles of various liquors between his fingers. “With shots!”
“Okay, but I don’t have shot glasses,” Sybil said.
“Then you’re all going to have to pick something to gulp,” Hermes said.
“Oh gods,” Persephone mumbled.
“What’s never have I ever?” Zofie asked.
“Exactly what it sounds like,” Hermes said as he sat the bottles on the coffee table. “You make a statement about something you’ve never done, and if anyone has done it, they have to take a shot.”
Everyone filed into the living room. Hermes sat on one side of the couch while Ben had taken up the other—until he noticed Sybil settling on the ground beside Persephone. Then, he abandoned the spot to squeeze beside her. It was awkward to watch, and Persephone averted her eyes, finding Hades staring. He stood across from her, not quite part of the circle they had formed. She wondered if he would find a reason not to play this game—and she couldn’t deny that part of her wanted to see how he would respond to every single one of these statements.
She also dreaded it.
“Me first!” Hermes says. “Never have I ever…had sex with Hades.”
Persephone’s gaze was murderous—she knew because she could feel the frustration eating away the glamour she used to dim the color of her irises.
“Hermes,” she gritted his name from between her teeth.
“What?” he whined. “This game is difficult for someone my age. I’ve done everything.”
Then Leuce cleared her throat, and his eyes widened as he realized what he had done. “Oh,” he said. “Oh.”
Persephone liked Leuce, but that did not mean she liked being reminded of her past with Hades. She made a point not to look at Leuce as she drank from a bottle of fireball.
Ben went next. “Never have I ever stalked an ex-girlfriend.”
There was a collective awkwardness that preceded the false-prophet’s statement. Was he trying to prove he wasn’t a creep?
No one drank.
Sybil was next.
“Never Have I Ever…fallen in love at first sight.” It was a jab at Ben, who did not seem to notice—or perhaps he didn’t care, so confident in his abilities as an oracle, he took a shot.
Next was Helen. “Never have I never…had a threesome.”
To no one’s surprise, Hermes took a shot, but so did Hades and something about it made the color drain from Persephone’s face. Perhaps it was the way he did it—eyes lowered, lashes fanning his cheeks, as if he did not wish to know that she saw him. Still, she tried to rationalize that they had discussed this before. Hades would not apologize for living before her, and she understood that. She expected Hades, God of the Dead, to have had many, varied sexual experiences—and yet she still felt jealous.
Finally, Hades lifted his eyes to hers. They were dark, a hint of fire igniting the irises like a sliver of a moon. It was an expression she knew well—not a warning so much as a plea—I love you, I am with you now. Nothing else matters.
She knew that—believed it with all her heart, but as the game continued, the instances where she was able to take a shot were few and far between—and nothing compared to Hades’.
“Never have I ever…eaten food off of someone’s naked body,” Ben said, but added with a direct look at Sybil. “But I’d like to.”
Hades drank and Persephone wanted to vomit.
“Never have I ever…had sex in the kitchen,” Helen said.
Hades drank.
“Never have I ever had sex in public,” Sybil said.
Hades drank.
“Never have I ever faked an orgasm,” said Helen.
Persephone wasn’t sure what came over her—but at that statement, she tipped her drink back and swallowed a gulp of wine. As she sat the glass down, Hades raised a brow and his eyes darkened. She could feel his energy against her own, demanding. He was eager to have her speak—to taste her skin and confirm she had lied.
She didn’t expect Hades to challenge her in front of everyone.
“If that is true, I will happily rectify the situation.”
“Oh,” Hermes teased. “Someone’s getting fucked tonight.”
“Shut up, Hermes.”
“What? You’re just lucky he didn’t carry you away to the Underworld the moment you lifted that glass.”
It still wasn’t out of the realm of possibility with the way Hades was looking at her. He had questions and he wanted answers.
“Let’s play another game,” Persephone suggested.
“But I like this one,” Hermes whined. “It was just getting good.”
She gave him a scathing look.
“Besides, you know Hades is just making a list of all the ways he wants to f—”
“Enough, Hermes!” Persephone got to her feet and made her way down the hallway to the bathroom. She closed the door and sank against it. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she exhaled—it was a failed attempt to release the strange feeling that had been building inside her. She couldn’t describe it, but it felt thick and heavy.
Then the air stirred, and she tensed, feeling Hades’ body cage her own, his cheek touched hers, his breath tickled her ear as he spoke.
“You had to know your actions would ignite me,” his voice was raw and rough, and it made the bottom of her stomach tighten. His body was rigid, a force barely contained.
“When have I left you wanting?”
She swallowed hard and knew he wanted the truth.
“Will you not answer?”
He lifted his hand to her throat—not squeezing but forcing her gaze to his.
“I’d really have rather not found out about your sexual exploits via a game in front of my friends,” she said.
“So you thought it better to reveal that I had not satisfied you in the same manner?”
Persephone looked away. Hades’ hand was still at her throat, and then he leaned forward, his tongue pressed lightly against her ear.
“Shall I leave no doubt in their minds that I can make you come?”
He lifted her skirt and tore at her lace underwear.
“Hades! We are guests here!”
“Your point?” he asked as he lifted her off the floor, leveraging her weight against the door. His movements were controlled but rough—a peek at the violence awake beneath this skin.
“It’s rude to have sex in someone’s bathroom.”
Hades licked across her mouth before his tongue parted her lips and her protests were drowned as he kissed her hard—to the point where she couldn’t breathe.
Why did I provoke him? Because I wanted this, she thought. I needed this.
She’d wanted to anger him, to feel him rage against her skin until she no longer remembered a past where she did not exist with him.
Her sex clenched as she felt the head of Hades’ cock graze her opening and in the next second, he was fully sheathed. Persephone’s head rolled, and a sound escaped her lips—raw and unabashed, as a wave of pleasure welled inside her.
Then there was a knock on the door.
“I hate to interrupt whatever’s going on in there,” Hermes said. “But I think you two will want to see this.”
“Not now,” Hades growled, his head rested in the crook of Persephone’s neck. His body was hard and rigid. She recognized it for what it was—an attempt at self-control.
It was a trait she wished he’d abandon.
She turned her head toward his, tongue grazing his ear, then her teeth. Hades inhaled; his hands squeezed her ass.
“Okay, first, it’s rude to have sex in other people’s bathrooms,” Hermes said. “Second, it’s about the weather.”
Hades groaned and then growled. “A moment, Hermes.”
“How long is a moment?” he asked.
“Hermes,” Hades warned.
“Okay, okay.”
Once they were alone, Hades left her. She felt his absence immediately—an ache that grew.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath as he restored his appearance.
“I’m sorry,” Persephone said.
Hades’ brows furrowed. “Why are you apologizing?”
She opened her mouth to explain—maybe for her jealousy or because they’d had to stop, or because of the storm—she really didn’t know. She closed her mouth, and Hades leaned toward her.
“I am not upset with you,” he said, and kissed her. “But your mother will regret the interruption.”
Persephone wondered what he meant, but she didn’t question him as they left the bathroom. From the hallway, she could hear the television blaring.
“A severe ice storm warning has been issued for the whole of New Greece.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s started to sleet,” Helen said. She was at the window, the curtains parted.
Persephone approached. She could hear the faint tap of ice as it hit the window. She grimaced. She’d known the weather would get worse, but she hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.
“This is a god,” Ben said. “A god cursing us!”
Persephone met Hades’ gaze. A tense silence filled the room. The mortal turned to Hades, demanding. “Do you deny it?”
“It is not wise to jump to conclusions, mortal,” Hades replied.
“I’m not jumping to conclusions. I have foreseen this! The gods will reign terror down upon us. There will be despair and destruction.”
The oracles words settled in the bottom of Persephone’s stomach like a stone, cold and heavy. Despite the fact that she thought he was insane, she could not deny that what he spoke was completely possible.
“Careful with your words, oracle.” It was Hermes who spoke this time. It was unnerving, seeing him so severe, so offended, and the tone of his voice sent shivers down Persephone’s spine.
Ben’s accusations were serious, and it was possible his prediction would incur the wrath of the gods.
“I am only speaking—”
“What you hear,” Sybil finished. “Which may or may not be the word of a god, and judging by the fact that you have no patron, I’m guessing you’re being fed prophecies from an impious entity. If you had training, you would know that.”
Persephone looked from Sybil to Ben. She didn’t know what an impious entity was, but Sybil knew what she was talking about. She had been trained for this.
“And what is so bad about an impious entity? Sometimes they are the only truth tellers.”
“I think you should leave,” Sybil said.
A tense silence followed as Ben seemed to register Sybil’s words.
“You want me to…leave?”
“She didn’t stutter,” Hermes shot back.
“But—”
“You must have forgotten the way to door,” Hermes said. “I’ll show you out.”
“Sybil—” Ben tried to plead, but in the next second, he vanished. All eyes turned to Hermes.
“That wasn’t me,” the god said.
Their gazes moved to Hades, but he remained silent, and though no one asked, Persephone wondered where he’d deposited the mortal.
“I think we all should go.” Persephone said, though what she really wanted was to be alone with Hades to ask questions. “This storm is only going to get worse the longer we stay.”
Everyone was in agreement. “Hades, I’d like to make sure Helen, Leuce, and Zofie get home safe.”
He nodded. “I’ll call Antoni.”
As the women fetched their jackets, Persephone pulled Sybil aside.
“Are you alright? Ben is—”
“An idiot,” she said. “I’m so sorry if he offended you or the others.”
“Don’t worry…but at the rate he is going, I’m sure he’ll incur the wrath of some god.”
They did not have to wait for Antoni long. The Cyclops pulled up in a sleek limo, and they filed inside—Hades and Persephone on one side, Leuce, Zofie, and Helen on the other.
“Did anyone else really hate that Ben guy?” Leuce asked.
“Sybil should keep a blade beneath her bed in case he comes back,” Zofie said.
“Or she could just lock her door,” Helen suggested.
“Locks can be picked,” Zofie said. “A blade is better.”
The cabin fell silent, except for the tapping of ice on the windows.
They dropped Leuce and Zofie off first. Once they had left the cabin, the darkness seemed to swallow Helen, whose petite frame was lost in the fur of her coat. She stared out at the night, her pretty face illuminated now and then by the streetlights.
After a moment, she spoke. “Do you think Ben is right? That this is the work of the gods?”
Persephone tensed, and looked at the mortal, whose eyes had drifted to Hades—wide and innocent. It was strange to hear that question with no venom behind the words.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Hades replied.
The limo came to a stop and as Antoni opened the door, cold air filled the cabin. Persephone shivered, and Hades’ arm tightened around her.
“Thank you for the ride,” Helen said as she left.
Once they were on the road again, Persephone spoke.
“Does she really think a storm will keep us apart?”
The way Hades’ jaw ticked told her everything she needed to know—yes.
“Have you ever seen snow, Persephone?” Hades asked, and she did not like the tone of his voice.
She hesitated. “From afar.”
On the caps of mountains, but since she had moved to New Athens, never.
Hades met her gaze, his eyes glittered; he looked menacing and angry.
“What is going through your mind?” she asked quietly.
His lashes lowered, casting shadows on his cheeks. “She will do this until the gods have no choice but to intervene.”
“And what happens then?”
Hades did not reply, and Persephone didn’t force a conversation because in truth, she was too afraid, and she thought she knew the answer.
War.
