Persephone called Eliska to check on Lexa as she headed to work the next morning. In truth, she’d been avoiding Jaison since his hateful words after Lexa’s surgery and his comments about Hades. It was hard enough to reconcile that Hades couldn’t help, worse when Jaison questioned their love.
Lexa’s mother sounded exhausted on the phone as she communicated that there were no changes in her vitals. The whole thing felt like a nightmare, except that, the longer it went on, the more Persephone considered that she might have to live without Lexa.
After last night, that somehow seemed like more of a possibility.
“Good morning, Persephone!” Helen said as she stepped off the elevator. Her cheery expression faded quickly. “Is everything alright?”
Her question made Persephone feel strangely violent.
“No,” she snapped. Her stomach immediately filled with guilt as she headed to her desk. She would have to apologize to Helen later, but right now, she needed to calm down.
She barely got settled before Demetri stepped out of his office.
“Persephone, have a moment?”
Her anger rushed to the surface again, unbidden and senseless. She should say no, ask if she could have more time to get settled, but she found herself following her boss into his office.
“I have good news,” Demetri said, taking a seat behind his desk.
Persephone knew what he was going to tell her, but she waited, staring at him with more indifference than she had ever felt in her life. It was the first time since he’d given her the ultimatum that she realized how much this had affected her.
“Kal has decided against forcing the exclusive.”
When she didn’t react, Demetri frowned. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy.”
“You thought wrong,” she said. “The damage is already done.”
“Persephone.”
She hated the way her boss said her name, like he thought she was being unreasonable. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what? Call you out on your bullshit?”
“If it was bullshit, you would have quit when I had to give you the ultimatum. As much as you want to pretend you don’t need this job, I know you do. It’s the only way you can distinguish yourself from Hades.”
She flinched. Those words stung.
Demetri sighed; his frustration palpable.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why not?” she laughed bitterly. “It’s the truth.”
“Just because it is the truth right now, doesn’t mean it will be the truth forever. If anyone can make a name for themselves in this business, it’s you, Persephone.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Demetri.”
He laughed humorlessly. “Will I ever earn your forgiveness?”
“Forgiveness, yes. Trust, no.”
“I suppose I deserve that.”
Demetri’s eyes fell to his hands as he twined his fingers together nervously.
“You know I did it because I had no choice.”
“I’m sure you had a choice like I had a choice.”
He nodded his head, but his eyes were distant, as if he were recalling something that happened long ago. After a moment, he began to speak. “Kal is no Hades but he is powerful. I…” he paused to clear his throat. “I sought his help.”
A realization settled upon her—Demetri knew Kal was a Magi.
“In what way?”
“A love potion.”
Persephone frowned. “I…don’t understand.”
Demetri raised his brows, and then met Persephone’s gaze. “In college, I met a man named Luca. He became my best friend and I was so in love with him. One night, I decided to tell him how I felt. My feelings weren’t reciprocated…but…I couldn’t imagine a life without him.”
“So you gave him a love potion?”
She was appalled that Demetri would resort to such measures. A love potion was serious business. There was a reason their creation and distribution was illegal. It took away an individual’s choice.
“It wasn’t my proudest moment,” Demetri admitted. “If I had to do it all over again, I would have let him go.”
“You have to undo it,” Persephone said. Demetri’s eyes went wide. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting her to say that.
“Undo it?”
“Or tell him what you did,” Persephone urged. “Demetri…you were wrong.”
“I didn’t tell you this so you would tell me how I should fix it,” he said, his face growing red. “I’m telling you this so you understand why I pushed you.”
“I realize that, but Demetri…if you really loved—”
“Don’t,” Demetri snapped, and Persephone clamped her mouth shut. He took a deep breath. “This conversation is over.”
“Demetri—”
“If I hear a whisper of what I have told you anywhere, Persephone, I will fire you. That’s a promise.”
Persephone pinched her lips together and stood, feeling dazed. She paused before leaving the office.
“You’re no better than Apollo.”
Demetri laughed, and it was cold and humorless. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever compared me to a god.”
“It’s not a compliment,” Persephone replied. She knew it wasn’t necessary to point it out. Demetri was well-aware of the gravity of her comparison. Apollo and Demetri had essentially made the same decisions when it came to the people they supposedly loved, and the results were devastating for the mortals who remained.
She left Demetri’s office and gathered her things.
“Oh…uh, Persephone?” Helen called as she walked past the desk to the elevator.
She didn’t stop.
“Persephone?”
Helen came up beside her.
“What, Helen?” she snapped.
“Are you—”
“Please don’t ask me if I’m okay.”
Helen’s lips thinned, and she hesitated, stumbling over her words. “Um, this came for you.”
She handed Persephone a white envelope.
“Who—?”
She started to ask when Helen turned on her heels and returned to her desk.
Persephone sighed. She didn’t blame the girl for practically running from her. Now she had two reasons to apologize to her, but she’d have to do that later because she really wanted to leave.
She stepped inside the elevator and opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Dearest Persephone,
I see you did not like the rose. Perhaps you will find future gifts more acceptable.
-Your admirer
It was the first time she’d thought about the rose since it had arrived on her desk a few days ago. It was still there, wilted and forgotten after Lexa’s accident. While she had assumed Hades had given it to her, she now realized it wasn’t from him but another person. She was going to have to tell Helen to stop accepting unmarked gifts and envelopes.
Suddenly uneasy, Persephone crushed the letter between her hands, and as she stepped out of the elevator, threw it away.
She called a taxi and headed to the hospital to visit Lexa.
She would never get used to this place, just approaching made her anxious—a feeling that grew once she reached the second floor, making her way down the hall to Lexa’s room. Suddenly, she halted, spotting Eliska and Adam speaking to the doctor.
“At this point, it is something to consider,” the doctor was saying.
Lexa’s parents looked distraught.
Persephone ducked behind a computer stand, listening.
“How long does she have? Once the ventilator is removed?” she heard Adam ask.
“That’s really up to her. She could pass within seconds or days.”
Persephone felt sick to her stomach.
“Of course, it is your decision,” the doctor said. “I’ll give you some time to think on it. If you have any questions, please, let me know.”
Persephone turned and ran down the hallway to the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before vomiting, and when nothing else came out, she heaved.
It took her far longer to compose herself than she imagined and by the time she made it to Lexa’s room, Eliska was alone. She looked up when Persephone entered and smiled.
“Hi, Persephone,” she said.
“Hi, Mrs. Sideris. I hope I’m not bother you. I should have told you I was coming.”
“It’s fine, dear.” Eliska stretched. “If you’re going to be here for a bit, I think I’ll take a walk…”
Persephone managed a nod and a small smile. When Eliska left, she sat on Lexa’s bed and carefully took her hand in her own. Her skin was bruised from the IV and discolored from the tape they used to secure all the tubes going into her body.
Guilt settled heavily on her shoulders. She had failed to find a cure for Lexa’s injuries. The ventilator breathed for her, kept her body going, and Lexa’s parents wanted to take her off.
It was Persephone’s worst fear realized.
What would be so terrible about seeing her enter the Underworld?
It was a question that should have a simple answer, but it was more complicated than that, and on the heels of Hades’ proposal, the truth of her agonizing thoughts were exposed. What if she and Hades weren’t meant to be together forever? What if she lost access to the Underworld and the souls? That would mean she would lose contact with Lexa, too.
She recognized that even when she and Hades had broken up, the God of the Dead had allowed her to retain his favor. She could have gone to the Underworld at any point and visited the souls, but she hadn’t. The thought of going had been too painful and filled her with anxiety—that wouldn’t change if they split again.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” Persephone said. “But I have so much to tell you.”
As she held Lexa’s hand, she launched into a summary of everything that had happened to her.
She talked about Kal’s ultimatum.
“I should have told you the moment it happened,” she paused and laughed a little. “I’m sure you would have told me to quit—go off and start my own newspaper or something.”
She told her about Hades’ deal with Apollo and how she foiled his plan to meet without her. She talked about Iniquity and all the things she’d learned about Hades.
Her eyes watered as she spoke, “And then he asked me to marry him and I said no. I can hear you asking me what I was I thinking, and the truth is, I don’t know,” she paused and shook her head. “I just know that no matter how much I love him, I can’t marry him right now.”
The only answer was the sound of Lexa’s ventilator.
She had never felt more alone.
“Lexa,” Persephone’s mouth quivered, and giant tears blurred her vision. She pressed a kiss to her best friend’s hand, whispering, “I need you.”
Suddenly, the smell of wildflowers permeated the air, bitter citrus and mint. Persephone went rigid and collected herself as quickly as she could.
“Mother.”
She cringed when she spoke. It was obvious she’d been crying. She didn’t turn to look at Demeter. “What are you doing?”
“I heard about Lexa,” she said. “I came to see if you were okay.”
She’d been in the hospital going on two weeks. If Demeter was really concerned, she would have showed up sooner.
“I’m fine.”
She felt her mother move closer.
“Hades would not help her?”
Again, Persephone tensed. She hated this question, hated it because so many people assumed Hades would help, hated it because she’d let herself believe she might become an exception to his rule, hated it because he was the reason she had to say no.
“He said it was not possible,” she whispered.
She released Lexa’s hand and turned to look at her mother. The goddess had appeared in her mortal form and wore a tailored yellow dress. Her golden hair was sculpted into a tight ponytail that curled at the end.
“Why are you really here?” Persephone asked.
“Is it so hard to believe I am concerned for you?”
“Yes.”
“I have only ever had your best interest in mind, even if you refuse to see it.”
Persephone rolled her eyes. “We are not having this conversation, mother. I made my choice.”
“How will you live your life beside the god who let your best friend die?”
Persephone flinched. She thought about the threads he hid on his skin, and the lives he had exchanged to get them. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that she had wondered why he wouldn’t choose to trade Lexa’s soul for another.
Persephone narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious. “If I find out you had anything to do with this—”
“You’ll what?” Demeter goaded. “Go on.”
“I will never forgive you.”
Demeter smiled coldly. “Daughter, for that threat to work, I would need to want forgiveness.”
Persephone ignored the pain of Demeter’s words.
“I did not hurt Lexa. Given the circumstances, I think you should consider—can a daughter of spring truly be death’s bride? Can you stand beside the god who let your friend die?”
The truth was Persephone did not know and that made her feel guilty and angry. She clenched her fists.
“Shut up,” she gritted out.
“You should channel your anger against the Fates,” Demeter said. “They’re the ones who have taken your friend.”
Persephone offered a sarcastic laugh. “Like you did? How did that turn out for you?”
Demeter narrowed her eyes. “That remains to be seen.”
Persephone turned from her mother and looked at Lexa again. Seeing her like this was the hardest thing she’d ever experienced, and it was getting worse every time she stepped through the hospital door.
“Hades isn’t the only god who could help you. Apollo is the God of Healing.”
Persephone’s body seized.
“Of course, you may have ruined any chance you might have had at securing his aid after that atrocious article you released.”
“If you came to defend him, I won’t hear it. Apollo hurt my friend and so many others.”
“You think any god is innocent?” She paused to laugh, and the sound was chilling. “Daughter, even you cannot escape our corruption. It is what comes with power.”
“What? Being a bad person?”
“No, it is the freedom to do whatever you want. You cannot tell me if given the opportunity, you would defy the Fates in favor of saving your friend.”
“Those decisions have consequences, mother.”
“Since when? Tell me the impact your articles have had on the gods, Persephone. You wrote about Hades and he ended up with a lover. You wrote about Apollo and he is still beloved,” she paused to laugh. “Consequences for gods? No, daughter, there are none.”
“You’re wrong. Gods always require a favor—favors mean consequences.”
“Lucky you are a god. Fight fire with fire, Persephone and quit sniveling over this mortal.”
Her mother was gone, but the smell of her magic remained and it made her feel sick.
Or maybe she felt sick at the thought of going to Apollo for help.
She couldn’t do it. How could she ask the god she’d criticized and proclaimed to hate for help? It would be betraying Hades and Sybil; it would be betraying herself.
When Eliska returned, Persephone prepared to leave, pressing a kiss to Lexa’s forehead. When she turned back to Lexa’s mother, she blurted, “don’t take her of the vent yet.”
Eliska’s eyes watered, already rimmed with red. Persephone was certain her walk was more of an excuse to go off and cry.
“Persephone,” Eliska said, her mouth quivered. “We can’t…keep letting her suffer.”
She isn’t even in there, she wanted to say. She is in limbo.
“I know this is hard. Adam and I haven’t decided on a course of action yet, but as soon as we do, I’ll let you know.”
Persephone left the ICU in a daze. She felt like she had the day she found out Lexa was in the accident. She was a ghost, frozen in time, watching the world continue. Ungrounded, she made her way to the elevator. She was so lost in her own thoughts; she almost didn’t notice Thanatos leaning against a wall in the waiting room. Beneath the fluorescent lights, his blond hair looked colorless, and his black wings were very much out of place amid the sterile walls and stiff chairs.
Persephone knew he hadn’t expected to see her here because when he caught her gaze, his striking blue ones widened in surprise.
She tried to control the beating of her heart. There are any number of reasons he might be at the hospital. Lexa’s not the only one in the ICU, she told herself. He might be here for someone else.
She approached him and managed a smile.
“Thanatos, what are you doing here?”
“Lady Persephone,” he said, and bowed. “I am…working.”
Persephone tried not to cringe. Thanatos couldn’t help that he was the God of Death, but somehow, it was different talking to him in the Underworld. There, she hadn’t really thought too long on his purpose. Here, in the Upperworld, with her friend on life support, it was crystal clear. He severed the connection between the souls and their bodies. He left families devastated. He would leave her devastated.
“You mean you are reaping?”
“Not just yet,” he said, his half smile was charming, and it made her want to vomit. “You look—”
“Tired?” she offered. It wouldn’t be the first she’d heard it today.
“I was going to say well.”
She could feel Thanatos’ magic on the edges of her skin, coaxing her to calmness. Normally, she would take that as a sign of his caring nature, but not today. Today it felt like a distraction.
“I don’t want your magic, Thanatos.” Her words were harsh. She was frustrated, she was scared, and his presence was making her uncomfortable.
She didn’t think the god could look any paler, but even more color drained from his face. It took her a moment to realize that the sparkle in his eyes was gone. She had hurt his feelings. She pushed past the guilt and asked, “What are really doing here, Thanatos?”
“I told you—”
“You’re working. I want to know who you’re here to take.” Her voice shook as she asked the question.
The god pressed his lips together, a mark of defiance and answered, “I can’t tell you that.”
There was silence, and then Persephone said the words she knew Thanatos would be compelled to obey because Hades had ordered it. “I command you.”
Thanatos eyes glistened, as if this whole thing caused him physical pain. His brows drew together over desperate eyes, and he whispered her name, voice cracking as he spoke.
“Persephone.”
“I won’t let you take her.”
“If there were another way—”
“There is another way and it involves you leaving.” She pushed him a little. “Get out.”
She spoke quietly at first, not wanting to draw attention, but when he didn’t move, she said it again—firm this time, the words slipping through her teeth.
“I said get out!”
She pushed him harder and he held up his hands, backing away.
“This isn’t something you can prevent, Persephone. My work is tied to the Fates. Once they cut her thread…I have to collect.”
She hated those words, and they set her off in a way she never imagined.
“Get out!” she yelled. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”
Thanatos vanished, and Persephone was suddenly surrounded by nurses and a security guard. They were questioning and directing, and the words filled her head to bursting.
“Ma’am, is everything alright?”
“Maybe you should have a seat.”
“I’ll get some water.”
Pain formed at the front of her head. Despite the nurse trying to direct her to a chair, she broke free.
“I need to check on Lexa,” she said, but when she tried to return to the ICU area, the security guard blocked her.
“You need to listen to the nurses,” he said.
“But my friend—”
“I’ll get an update on your friend,” he said.
Persephone wanted to protest. There was no time. What if Thanatos had teleported to her room and taken her to the Underworld? Suddenly, the doors opened from the inside, and Persephone leapt at the chance, pushing past the guard, she took off at run for Lexa’s room and promptly vanished.
Being teleported to another realm without warning felt like being in a vacuum. Suddenly, it was harder to breath, her body felt void of moisture, and her ears popped painfully. The symptoms lasted a few seconds before she was overpowered by the scent of Hades’ magic, burning her nose like frost.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized she’d been deposited in Hades’ throne room. It was always dark despite the hazy light that filtered in through slanted windows overhead. Hades sat upon his throne—a glassy piece of obsidian that was both artistic and monstrous. She could see nothing of the god but a slash of his beautiful face, illuminated by red light.
She could guess why Hades had brought her here—to prevent her from interfering with Thanatos’ work, to lecture her once again about how they could not interfere in Lexa’s life, but she didn’t want to hear it.
She tried to gather her magic and teleport, knowing it was in vain—Hades was far more liberal in revoking any rights she had to leave the Underworld while he was angry.
And he was angry.
She could feel his frustration, it built between them, making the air tangible.
“You cannot just remove me from the Upperworld when you please!” she shouted at him.
“You are lucky I removed you and not the Furies.”
The tone of his voice deepened and put her on edge. Still, she wanted to fight.
“Send me back, Hades!”
“No.”
A searing pain erupted from Persephone’s shoulder, her side, and her calves as thorns sprouted from her skin. It brought her to her knees before Hades. The god rose from his throne, ignited completely by the red light. He looked horrified and deadly and moved toward her with predatory grace.
“Stop!” she commanded as he approached. “Don’t come any closer!”
She didn’t want him to see how bad her wounds really were.
Hades didn’t obey.
He knelt beside her.
“Fuck, Persephone. How long has your magic been manifesting like this?”
Persephone didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Don’t you ever listen?”
He gave a humorless laugh. “I could ask the same of you.”
She ignored his comment, focusing on breathing through the pain of her injuries. Her magic had manifested like this on several occasions, but this was probably the worst case. Hades placed his hands on her shoulder, then her side, then her calves, healing the wounds. When he was finished, he sat back on his heels, blood covering his hands.
“How long have you kept this from me?”
“I’ve been a little distracted in case you haven’t noticed,” she said. “What do you want, Hades?”
Hades eyes flashed, and his concern for her quickly dissolved into anger.
“Your behavior toward Thanatos was atrocious. You will apologize.”
“Why should I?” she snapped. “He was going to take Lexa! Worse, he tried to hide it from me.”
“He was doing his job, Persephone.”
“Killing my friend isn’t a job! It’s murder!”
“You know it isn’t murder!” His voice was harsh. “Keeping her alive for your own benefit isn’t a kindness. She is in pain and you are prolonging it.”
She flinched but recovered. “No, you are prolonging it. You could heal her, but you have chosen not to help me.”
“You want me to bargain with the Fates so that she might survive? So you can have the death of another on your conscious? Murderer doesn’t suit you, goddess.”
She slapped him—or tried to, but Hades caught her wrist and pulled her against him, kissing her until she was subdued in his arms, until all she could do was cry.
“I don’t know how to lose someone, Hades,” she sobbed into his chest.
He took her face between his hands, attempting to brush her tears away.
“I know,” he answered. “But running from it won’t help, Persephone. You are just delaying the inevitable.”
“Hades, please. What if it were me?”
He released her so quickly, she almost lost her composure.
“I refuse to entertain such a thought.”
“You cannot tell me you wouldn’t break every Divine Law in existence for me.”
Persephone had noted the depth of Hades’ eyes before—as if there were thousands of lifetimes reflected within them, but it was nothing like what she saw now. There was a flash of malice—a moment where she swore she could see every violent thing he’d ever done. She didn’t doubt what he would go through to save her.
“Make no mistake, my lady, I would burn this world for you, but that is a burden I am willing to carry. Can you say the same?”
Something changed within Hades after her question and just as suddenly as he seemed to open all his wounds, they closed. His eyes dulled and his expression became passive.
“I will give you one more day to say goodbye to Lexa,” he said. “That is the only compromise I can offer. You should be thankful I’m offering that.”
The god vanished.
Alone in the throne room, Persephone expected to feel overwhelmed by the reality that within the next twenty-four hours, Lexa would be dead.
Instead, she felt a strange sense of determination.
Consequences for gods? She thought. There are none.
She rose to her feet and teleported to her apartment. Sybil reclined on the couch, her eyes going wide when Persephone appeared, bloodied and bruised from her magic.
The oracle sat up.
“Persephone, are you—”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “I need your help. Where does Apollo hang out on Thursday nights?”
