Hades’ Lover Arrives at Nevernight in Rental Truck, Dressed in Sweats.
Persephone sat behind her desk at work on Monday, glaring at the article on her computer screen. She could be an oracle with the way she was able to predict headlines. If only she’d been able to predict meeting Hades’ lover, too.
Her mood hadn’t improved over the weekend. Maybe that was due to the fact that she had yet to hear from Hades. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to talk to him, but she had expected him to try to contact her—either manifest in her bedroom in the middle of the night to apologize or send Hecate, the peacekeeper.
As the hours turned into days, Persephone grew even more frustrated with Hades, and the more she wanted to write about Apollo just to piss him off.
The thought had occurred to her because the God of Music was in the news today, having been selected as the chancellor for the upcoming Panhellenic Games. His christening was no surprise, as he had been given the title for the last ten years. It was basically a designation Apollo paid for, since his money funded the entertainment, uniforms, and construction on a new stadium.
It was just another example of Apollo’s status. No one would want to believe that the god who gave them sports was also an abusive asshole.
She sighed and closed her browser, opening a blank document. She had another week to write the exclusive Demetri and Kal had ordered. This was probably not the best time to begin, because every word she thought of to describe Hades was something angry and unkind.
Frustrating, thoughtless, jerk.
After a moment, she sighed and checked her mug. She needed more coffee if she was going to attempt this article. She left her desk and went into the break room. As her coffee brewed, Helen found her.
“Persephone…there’s a woman here to see you. She says her name is Leuce.”
Persephone froze and looked at Helen.
“Did you just say Leuce?”
The girl nodded; her blue eyes wide. Persephone’s frustration burned, and she clenched her fists to keep a handle on her magic. All she needed was to sprout vines in front of her co-worker. What was Hades’ ex-lover doing here?
“Should I tell her you’re busy?” Helen asked. “I’ll tell her you’re busy.”
Helen started to leave.
“No,” Persephone stopped her. “I’ll see her. Show her to an interview room.”
Helen nodded and returned shortly after she disappeared.
“She’s in three.”
“Thank you, Helen.”
The girl hovered and Persephone took a breath.
“Yes, Helen?”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Just peachy,” she answered.
What else was there to say? She was being forced to write about her love life—a love life that was being threatened by a woman who just showed up at her job.
Things were complicated.
Persephone kept Leuce waiting. It was the woman’s fault for showing up unannounced. When she finally entered the interview room, Leuce was standing by the window and when she turned to face Persephone, the goddess was surprised to see that she looked worse than when she’d seen her yesterday.
Yesterday she’d been exhausted.
Today she looked filthy. Her string-straight hair was matted, and she was wearing the same clothes that she’d had on at Nevernight. Persephone also noted the tear stains on her cheeks, visible because of the dirt on her face.
“What are you doing here?” Persephone asked.
“I came to apologize,” she said.
Persephone startled. That was the last thing she expected Leuce to say. “Excuse me?”
“I shouldn’t have introduced myself the way I did,” the words poured out of Leuce’s mouth quickly, almost like she was berating herself. “I was angry with Hades. I mean, I am sure you understand—”
“Leuce,” Persephone interrupted her. “You will forgive me if I don’t wish to be reminded about how well you know Hades. Why are you here?”
The nymph pressed her lips together tightly. “Hades kicked me out and fired me last night.”
Persephone just stared.
“I know I don’t deserve your kindness, but please. I have nowhere to go.”
Persephone shook her head. “What exactly are you asking of me?”
“Can’t you…talk to him…for me?” She seemed to struggle saying those words.
“Why aren’t you talking to him?”
“You don’t think I tried? He told me I had to go. He wasn’t going to risk losing you.”
“If he really meant that, he would apologize,” she muttered under her breath.
“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this but…Hades is an idiot. He’s probably thinking you want space and the more he gives you the better.”
“You’re just saying that because you want me to ask him for your job back.”
“And my home,” she said shamelessly.
Persephone lifted a brow. “Didn’t you call it a shithole last night?”
“It is a shithole, but it was my shithole and it had a bed,” she said. “Which was far better than the park bench I found last night.”
Hindsight is twenty-twenty, she thought.
The two stared at each other for a long moment before Persephone asked, “Why I should help you? You weren’t even thankful for what Hades gave you.”
Plus, you cheated on him.
“Because I’m an idiot, too. I guess I thought I had more…leverage. Turns out, I have nothing. I don’t even understand this world. I barely made it here because crossing your streets are almost impossible,” she paused, and looked away, and when she spoke again, her voice quivered. “Imagine waking up in a world that doesn’t even resemble the one you left. It’s…frightening. It’s…the worst punishment.”
Leuce’s shoulders fell and Persephone suddenly realized she could relate to her more than she had wanted to admit. She’d been in a similar situation four years ago. She sighed and checked her watch. She couldn’t believe what she was about to say.
“Look, I have a few more hours of work left. You can hang out in the lounge until I’m off. I can’t…promise I’ll talk to Hades today, but…eventually. Until then…you can stay with me.”
Leuce’s eyes widened. “A-are you sure?”
“You’ll have to sleep on the couch,” she said. “But…yeah.”
“Thank you. Thank you, Persephone.”
The goddess stiffened as the nymph threw her arms around her. After a moment, she pulled away.
“You won’t regret this, I promise.”
She sure hoped not.
Persephone didn’t return to working on the exclusive. Instead, she continued to research Apollo. At the end of the day, she copied everything she found into a word document and emailed it to herself before gathering her things and retrieving Leuce from the lounge. Together, they left the Acropolis through the front, braving the waiting crowd to find Antoni waiting outside Hades’ black Lexus. He opened the door as they approached, smiling.
“My lady,” he said.
Antoni’s eye become menacing as his gaze fell upon her Leuce.
“What’s she doing with you?”
Persephone’s brows rose and she looked from the cyclops to the nymph. “You know Leuce?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “Once a traitor always a traitor.”
Leuce rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“It’s alright, Antoni,” Persephone interrupted. “I’m helping her.”
The cyclops pressed his lips tight and said nothing as the two women slid into the backseat. Once the door was shut, Leuce looked at Persephone.
“Does that crowd wait for you every day?”
“Yes.”
“All because of Hades?”
“Yes.”
The nymph looked out the window. “That’s insane.”
“It is insane,” Persephone agreed. “I hate it.”
“When I was…alive,” Leuce said. “In ancient times, the gods were feared and revered. Their worshippers were serious about honoring their gods. It wasn’t…this…false obsession.”
Persephone grimaced. “Welcome to the modern world.”
Antoni dropped them off at Persephone’s apartment. Before he left, the cyclops took Persephone aside, “I’ll have to tell him Leuce is with you. He will want to know.”
She shrugged. “Tell him.”
Antoni frowned. “You’ll talk to him soon, won’t you, my lady?”
Persephone was surprised by his question. She wondered how much Antoni knew about her fight with Hades.
Her frown matched his. “I don’t know,” she said. “Probably. Right now, I am angry.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my lady.”
She didn’t say anything, and turned to lead Leuce into the apartment, finding Sybil at the kitchen bar. She drew her forearm across her nose and started wiping at her face as soon as they entered.
“Sybil, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
But it was obvious she was lying. Her voice was thick, and her eyes were red. Persephone peered over her shoulder to find a rejection email for a job.
“Sybil,” Persephone said gently, placing a hand on her arm.
“I knew it would be hard, but I don’t think I realized how difficult. No one wants a god’s discarded…plaything.”
“You are no such thing, Sybil,” Persephone said quickly.
“That’s not how the world sees it,” she said. “My worth is equal to the desire a god had for me. It has been since my powers manifested. Now I don’t even have those.”
Sybil turned into Persephone and sobbed against her chest. The goddess stood there, soothing her friend.
“It’s going to be okay,” Persephone said. “I’ll help in any way I can. Let me talk to Hades. I’m sure they need more help at The Cypress Foundation.”
She’d been so angry about Leuce, she’d forgotten to ask about openings.
“I can’t ask that of you, Persephone,” Sybil said, pulling away.
“You’re not asking.” She offered what she hoped was a comforting smile.
Persephone introduced Leuce to Sybil and poured three glasses of wine. Persephone was starting to feel like she was running a home for displaced women. They sat in the living room, watching Titans After Dark and talking about life. At some point, the inevitable topic of Apollo made its way into their conversation, and the longer they spoke, the angrier they became.
“He’s as horrible as I remember,” Leuce commented.
“Oh, girl, you don’t even know,” Sybil said, she took a drink from her glass. “He is so controlling. He punishes his lovers for being independent! It’s pathetic!”
“Can you believe Hades told me I couldn’t write about him?” Persephone said.
“If you want to write about Apollo, you write about Apollo!” Leuce said.
They were all on their fourth glass of wine. Despite this, Persephone expected Sybil to protest. Instead, she said, “Get the laptop, Seph!”
Persephone grinned and ran into her room to grab her computer. When she came back, she sat cross-legged on the sofa.
“Write this down,” Sybil directed. “Apollo, known for his charm and beauty, has a secret—he cannot stand rejection.”
“Oh, that’s good!” Leuce encouraged.
“Oh, oh! Hold on,” Persephone said, typing quickly, the words coming faster than her fingers would move. When she was finished, she read the piece aloud:
“The evidence is overwhelming. I would have his many ex-lovers vouch for me, but they either begged to be saved from his wily pursuits and were turned into trees or died horrible deaths as a result of his punishment.”
“Yes!” Leuce cried.
Persephone continued, adding the stories of Daphne, the nymph who was turned into a tree, and Princess Cassandra, whose accurate predictions were dismissed.
“Cassandra cried that Greeks were hidden in the Trojan Horse but was ignored. Which begs the question how noble can Apollo truly be? When he fought on the side of Troy, yet compromise their victory, all because he was given the cold shoulder?”
“Gods, he’s so terrible,” Sybil said. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“He’s abusive,” Persephone said. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“You should say that in the article!” Leuce said. “Apollo is an abuser—he has a need to control and dominate. It’s not about communication or listening, it’s about winning.”
They continued like that for hours, until Sybil and Leuce could no longer keep their eyes open. With the two asleep on the couch, Persephone was pinned against the armrest. The pallid glow from her computer hurt her eyes, but she continued to revise what they’d written together. The result was a critical and slightly hostile article about the God of Music. Persephone excluded Sybil’s story, even though she’d contributed a few lines illustrating her own experiences with the god. She didn’t want Apollo to retaliate against the oracle.
The more Persephone read and reread the piece, the angrier she got and before she could think it through, she composed an email to Demetri and sent the article. She felt triumphant for all of two seconds—before she scrambled from the couch, ran into the bathroom, and threw up in the toilet.
You are in so much trouble, she thought as she sagged against the bathroom wall. Her stomach felt like it was boiling, a combination of too much wine and guilt.
Apollo did this to himself. She thought, reminding herself why she’d sent the article. He deserves this. This is about justice, about giving a voice to his victims.
What about Hades?
Her stomach lurched and Persephone got to her knees just as bile rose to the back of her throat. She vomited again. Her nose and throat burned and all she could taste was bitter, acidic wine. She knelt for a while, breathing through her mouth until she felt steady enough to rise to her feet.
When she looked in the mirror, she didn’t recognize herself. She looked more like a soul that had just arrived in the Underworld, pale and shivering.
“Hades kept secrets,” she said aloud, as if that explained why she’d gone back on her word.
You kept secrets, she reminded herself as she rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth. You didn’t tell him about Demetri’s ultimatum.
“That’s different,” she met her gaze in the mirror.
How?
It was different because it was her battle. She hadn’t wanted Hades’ help fighting it.
“It’s different because that secret won’t hurt him,” she said.
But the secret he’d kept about Leuce? It hurt.
She didn’t like the words that followed. They grew like menacing clouds, a storm of tormenting words in her mind: This will hurt Hades.
She turned out the lights.
