When Persephone returned home, she found Sybil, Zofie, and Antoni in her living room.
“Oh, thank the gods!” Sybil said, rushing to embrace her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Persephone said. Truthfully, she hadn’t felt this good in a while.
“Where were you?” Zofie demanded.
“The Lyre. Apollo decided today was the day he would take advantage of our bargain,” Persephone said.
Zofie’s eyes widened. “You have a bargain with Apollo?”
She didn’t respond and moved into the living room to sit on the couch, suddenly exhausted. The three followed her. “Did you tell Hades I was abducted?”
Antoni rubbed the back of his neck and turned a little pink. He didn’t need to answer, she knew the cyclops had.
Persephone sighed. “Someone should let him know I’m okay so he doesn’t destroy the world.”
Antoni and Zofie exchanged a look.
“I’ll do it,” Antoni said. “I’m glad you’re okay, Persephone.”
She smiled at the cyclops. Once he was gone, Sybil sat beside Persephone.
“What did Apollo make you do?”
Persephone told Sybil and Zofie what had happened, leaving out how she managed to freeze everyone in the whole room and that she’d cut someone’s fingers off. She decided she did want them to know she had kicked Apollo in the balls, though. Sybil laughed. Zofie tried to hide her amusement, probably because she feared retaliation.
“I don’t think he’ll force me to judge another competition any time soon,” she said. “Or abduct me from the street.”
There was silence for a long moment.
“Any updates on Lexa?” Persephone asked Sybil.
The oracle shook her head. “She was still asleep when I visited.”
More silence. There was a strange kind of exhaustion that seemed to settle upon them all at once and Persephone sighed.
“I’m going to bed. See you guys tomorrow.”
They said goodnight, and Persephone made her way to her room. She paused as she opened the door, overwhelmed by Hades’ scent. Her heart beat faster in her chest and her skin was hot. She felt silly, both excited and anxious at the possibility of seeing and speaking to him.
She closed the door and said, “How long have you been here?”
“Not long.” His voice came from the darkness. There was a rough undercurrent to his tone. She knew he was trying to keep a cap on his emotions. She could feel them raging around her, anger and fear and lust and longing.
She would take them all if it meant being close to him.
“You know what happened?” she asked.
“I overheard, yes.”
“Are you angry?” She whispered the words and found that she feared his response.
“Yes,” he said. “But not with you.”
He had kept his distance until that point, and then she felt him, his energy reached for hers. His hands found her arms, her shoulders, and then her face. She inhaled sharply at his touch.
“I couldn’t sense you,” he said. “I couldn’t find you.”
Persephone placed her hands over his. “I’m here, Hades. I’m fine.”
She thought he might kiss her, but instead he let go and turned on her light. It burned her eyes.
“You will never know how difficult this is for me.”
“I imagine as difficult as it’s been for me to deal with Minthe and Leuce.” Hades eyes darkened. “Except that Apollo has never been my lover.”
He scowled. She was provoking him, but she needed to see his emotion, to see that he cared.
“You have not been to the Underworld.”
Persephone folded her arms over her chest.
“I’ve been busy,” she said—and angry and afraid.
“The souls miss you, Persephone,” Hades said at last. She looked at him, unsure where he was going with this. Did he miss her? “Do not punish them because you are angry with me.”
“Don’t lecture me, Hades. You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with.”
“Of course not. That would mean you’d have to talk to me.”
She glared. “You mean like you talk to me? I’m not the only one with communication problems, Hades.”
“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” he said. “Or lecture you. I came to see if you were okay.”
“Why come at all? Antoni would have told you.”
“I had to,” he said, and looked away, setting his jaw. “I had to see you myself.”
She could feel what he didn’t say. The emotions that swelled between them were heavy with desperation and fear, but why wasn’t he saying that?
“Hades, I—” She took a step toward him. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Maybe, I’m sorry? Those words didn’t quite seem like enough, though, and she didn’t have a chance to figure it out before Hades spoke.
“I should go. I’m late for a meeting.”
He vanished, and Persephone exhaled, leaning against her door for support, her body suddenly felt heavy and torturous thoughts rolled through her head.
He couldn’t get away from you fast enough, she thought.
Sadness curled into her chest, aching and hot. She made her way into the shower and stood under the hot spray until it was ice cold. After, she climbed into bed.
She missed Hades.
His comfort.
His conversation.
His touch.
His teasing.
His passion.
She missed everything about him.
She groaned and rolled onto her side.
Funny, she could hear Lexa’s voice in her head. Why didn’t you just ask him to stay?
He didn’t give me the chance. He was busy, anyway.
Did you even try to stop him?
No.
They’d already been arguing. What would they have done if he’d stayed?
Had really hot makeup sex, Lexa commented in her head.
She managed to smile, despite the tears that pricked her eyes. For a moment, her thoughts spiraled. How had she gotten here? She’d severed her relationship with her mother, ended a bargain with Hades just to jump into another with Apollo. Her best friend was in the hospital, her future still uncertain, and she hadn’t really liked her job since Demetri’s ultimatum.
What the fuck are you doing, Persephone? she whispered aloud.
Your best, she heard Lexa reply before she fell into a deep sleep.
***
With no update on Lexa from her mother, Persephone headed straight to work. Antoni came to a stop in front of the Acropolis, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Would you like me to escort you?”
She was looking out the window when he spoke, and his voice filled her with dread. Not because he was asking to escort her, but because she had to get out of the car.
She’d been trying her hardest to embrace the screaming crowd, but today, she didn’t feel like faking it.
She was sad.
She looked at the ogre. “No, but thank you, Antoni.”
Persephone left the Lexus, entering the throng of screaming fans and reporters.
“Persephone! Persephone!”
She kept her head down, walking with determined steps toward the Acropolis.
“Persephone! Have you seen the Divine?”
“Do you know the woman Hades was seen with last night?”
Her steps faltered, and she paused, searching the crowd for the person who asked the question when her eyes settled on a paper one of the mortals held. On the front page of the Delphi Divine was a photo of Hades and Leuce hand in hand. The title screamed back at her:
Hades Steps Out With Mysterious Woman
She walked up to the mortal and snatched the paper from their hands. Everything around her suddenly felt distant, the sound drowned out by a rushing in her ears.
I’m late for a meeting, she heard Hades’ voice in her head.
Late for a liaison, she thought bitterly.
Gods, she’d been so stupid.
Had he been so angry with her he’d sought Leuce’s comfort? And so publicly, too. He must want to torture her. Months ago, he’d never allowed himself to be photographed, but suddenly, he was appearing on the front page of the Divine.
But she didn’t just feel betrayed by Hades.
She felt betrayed by Leuce. After everything she’d done to help the nymph, this was how she repaid her?
Persephone headed inside; the paper clutched in her fist. Helen looked up when she got off the elevator, and for the first time since she started at New Athens News, didn’t ask her if she was okay.
The goddess stowed her stuff, including the paper. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to keep it, maybe so she could shove it in Hades face when she saw him again. Maybe because she liked torture. She turned on her computer and made coffee, her mind whirling with so many emotions she couldn’t concentrate, and she felt like she was having hot flashes. One moment, she was angry, the next she could barely keep her tears at bay.
At some point, she moved onto trying to rationalize the situation.
Maybe it was all a misunderstanding.
She knew the media could deceive. One photo only told part of the story.
She pulled the paper out again and studied the picture. Hades and Leuce looked determined, their expressions were serious.
Because they knew they’d been caught, she thought.
What explanation would Hades give? Did she even want to hear it?
Her stomach was in knots, and the back of her throat felt swollen. She was going to vomit.
As she stood, there was a commotion up front, and Persephone looked in time to see Hades striding toward her. He appeared angry, purposeful, and he only had eyes for her.
“You need to leave,” she said immediately. He was causing a scene. Everyone on the workroom floor had stopped what they were doing to watch them.
“We need to talk,” he said.
His scent hit her hard, his presence harder. He was an executive of death, well dressed, handsome, and brooding.
“No.”
“So you believe it then? The article?”
“I thought you had a meeting,” she said.
“I did,” he said.
“And you conveniently left out the fact that it was with Leuce?”
“It wasn’t with Leuce, Persephone.”
“I don’t want to hear this right now. You need to leave,” she said, and stepped out from behind her desk. She started toward the elevator—she would escort him.
“When are we going to talk about this?” he asked.
“What is there to talk about? I have asked you to be honest with me about when you are with Leuce. You weren’t.”
She pressed the button to summon elevator.
“I came to you immediately after I saw Leuce home,” he said. “But I didn’t feel good about waking you. When I saw you yesterday, you looked exhausted.”
She twisted toward him, her eyes glistening. “I am exhausted, Hades. I’m tired of you and sick of your excuses,” she pointed to the elevator doors as they opened. “Leave.”
Hades glared at her, and without warning, snatched her about the waist and shoved her in the elevator. His magic flare, and she knew he was keeping anyone from entering or using the lift.
“Let me go, Hades!” she wiggled against him, and he pressed her harder into the wall. “You’re embarrassing me. Why did you have to do this now?”
“Because I knew you’d jump to conclusions.”
She glared up at him, but his expression was just as fierce.
“I’m not fucking Leuce.”
“There are other ways to cheat, Hades!” she pushed against his chest, but the god didn’t move. He was solid rock, an immovable, frustrating mountain.
“I’m not doing any of them!”
She stared at his chest and tried not to cry.
“Persephone,” Hades said her name and she closed her eyes against the desperation in his voice. “Persephone, please.”
“Let me go, Hades.”
He was quiet for a long moment.
“If you won’t listen now, will you let me explain later?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Please, Persephone. Give me the chance to explain.”
“I’ll let you know,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“Persephone,” he reached to brush her cheek, and she retreated from his touch, still not looking at him, which meant she didn’t see the expression on his face before he vanished.
When he was gone, the elevator doors opened, and Persephone found the whole newsroom gathered in front of the doors.
“What the fuck are you all staring at?” she snapped.
“Persephone,” Demetri was at the front of the group and jerked his thumb toward his office. “A moment.”
Grudgingly, she obeyed his direction and followed him. Once the door was closed, her boss took a seat beside her instead of behind his desk.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s really going on,” he said. “But you cannot act this way at work.”
“What way?”
“The elevator, the profanity,” he said.
“The elevator wasn’t my fault—”
She didn’t even want to imagine what people thought about the elevator. It was the dining room all over again.
Demetri held up his hand. “Look, I saw the Divine this morning. I know you’re going through some stuff. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
“No, I’m fine. I need the distraction,” she said.
“No, Persephone. You need to deal with your problems. Seriously. Leave.”
Persephone obeyed, feeling dazed as she left Demetri’s office, gathered her things, and heading to the first floor. She halted, seeing the crowd waiting outside. She couldn’t face them or rehash what was in the paper today, so she entered the elevator again and chose to go to the basement.
She found Pirithous in the maintenance office. He sat at his desk, distracted by something in front of him.
“Hey,” Persephone said.
Pirithous did a double take. Clearly, he hadn’t expected to see her in the doorway of his office. He rushed to cover what he was working on, and Persephone rose on her tiptoes, curious.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing,” he said, and stood awkwardly. “Can I help you?”
He seemed nervous, rubbing his hands on his uniform, so she smiled.
“I need help,” she said. “Can you get me out of here?”
“S-sure,” he said. “You want the get-away vehicle again?”
“It’s not my preferred method of escape, but if it’s the only choice…”
He smiled, more at ease now. She wondered what had him on edge.
“I might have something better.”
Pirithous grabbed his keys, shut off the light, and locked up before leading her to an unmarked door at the end of a hallway.
It was the entrance to an underground tunnel.
She glared at him.
“You made me get into a trash can when you knew this existed?”
Pirithous laughed. “I didn’t have a key then.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, in that case…”
“Come on.” He gestured for her to enter, and Pirithous closed the door behind them. The tunnel was cement, cold, and lit by track lighting that made everything look pale green.
“Where does this lead?”
“Olive & Owl Gastropub in Monastiraki Square.”
Pedestrian tunnels were common in New Athens, but Persephone had never been in one.
“Is there a reason it isn’t open to the public?”
“Probably because the executives of The Acropolis don’t want to share.”
Huh. That made sense.
“You’re leaving work early today,” Pirithous observed.
“I just need a mental health day,” Persephone said. She didn’t want to explain what was in the paper, or that Hades had come to her work and caused a scene. Luckily, Pirithous didn’t press. He just nodded and said, “I understand that.”
They walked in silence for a little while, and then Persephone asked, “What were you working on earlier?”
“A list,” he answered. “Just some…supplies I need.”
She thought about asking him what kind of supplies, but he didn’t seem interested in talking about it—in truth, he seemed just as distracted as she felt.
Finally, they came to the end of the tunnel, and Pirithous unlocked the door.
“Thank you, Pirithous. I owe you.”
He shook his head. “Haven’t you learned anything about owing people?”
Those words hit her hard, and his question gave her pause, but the mortal was quick to change the subject.
“Be careful, Seph.”
He closed the door, and she heard the lock click into place on the other side.
Persephone made her way through the Olive & Owl Gastropub, exiting into Monastiraki Square, a stone covered courtyard with several pubs, coffeehouses, and a large church. The clouds had thickened in her time underground, and a light mist hung in the air, coating everything in a slick layer of rain. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her dress and headed to her apartment.
It was on the way home when Persephone received a text message from Eliska that Lexa was awake. She changed directions and headed for the hospital instead.
She wasn’t sure what she expected when she had imagined her reunion with Lexa, but when she laid eyes on her best friend, she knew she had let her hopes get too high.
Lexa looked exhausted. She was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her lips were chapped, and her dark hair was knotted, parts of it stuck to her face.
Then there were her eyes.
Unlike her body, they had not regained life, and when she met Persephone’s gaze, there was no spark of recognition. Still, she managed to smile, despite feeling something dark gather in the back of her mind.
Something is wrong.
“Hey, Lex.” Persephone said quietly, approaching the bed. Lexa’s brows drew together, and when she spoke, her voice was low and rasped.
“Why am I here?”
Persephone hesitated and glanced at Eliska for clarity.
“She’s been saying that since she woke up,” she explained. “The doctor says it’s part of the psychosis.”
“Why am I here?” Lexa repeated.
Eliska went to her and sat on the edge of her bed, taking her hand.
“You were in an accident, baby,” she answered. “You were hurt really bad.”
Lexa looked at her mom, but it was like she didn’t recognize her, either.
“No, why am I here?” Lexa’s questioning was more aggressive, and her eyes became unfocused. “I’m not supposed to be here!”
Persephone could feel the color drain from her face. She knew what Lexa was saying. She wasn’t asking why she was in the hospital; she was asking why she was in the Upperworld.
Eliska looked at Persephone and saw the desperation in her eyes. It was one thing to have Lexa back, another to handle the aftermath and impact of her trauma.
“I’ll get the nurse,” Eliska said. “That will give you some time alone with her.”
“I’m not supposed to be here,” Lexa repeated as her mother left the room.
Persephone sat on the end of her bed.
“Lexa,” the goddess called her name. It took her a moment, but she finally lifted her head and met Persephone’s gaze.
“You don’t remember.”
Lexa’s eyes glistened with tears.
“I was happy,” she said.
“Yes, you were happy,” she said, hope ballooned in her chest. Maybe she was remembering. “The happiest person I knew, and you were in love.”
That gave Lexa pause and her brows knitted together. “No,” she shook her head. “I was happy in the Underworld.”
Persephone was stunned. That was the last thing she expected her to say.
“Why am I here?” Lexa asked again and again. “Why am I here? Why am I here? Why am I here?”
Her voice grew louder, and she started to rock, shaking the bed.
“Lexa, calm down.”
“Why am I here?” she screamed.
Persephone stood. “Lexa—”
The door to her room burst open and Eliska and two nurses hurried to subdue her. Lexa was screaming now—it was a sound she’d never heard her best friend make. She backed away from the scene until she reached the door, then fled.
Lexa’s cries followed Persephone until she entered the elevator.
She waited until the doors were closed to burst into tears.
“Are you happy with the results?”
Persephone whirled to face Apollo.
He was dressed in a grey suit and white button up shirt. His dark hair a perfect mess of curls. He looked beautiful and cold all at the same time.
“You!” Persephone advanced on him. Apollo lifted a sharp brow and didn’t move. She hated that he seemed so unafraid of her. “You said you’d heal her!”
“I did heal her. Obviously. She’s awake.”
“I don’t know who that person is, but it isn’t Lexa!”
Apollo shrugged, and his dismissal angered Persephone so much, vines began to sprout from her skin. She didn’t even feel the pain.
Apollo looked disgusted. “Get a hold on your anger. You’re making a mess.”
“The deal is off, Apollo.”
“I’m afraid it’s not,” he said, suddenly seeming far taller and imposing than before as he straightened and uncrossed his arms. “You asked me to heal her and I did. What you failed to realize, is that it wasn’t just her body that was broken, her soul was, too, and that, I’m afraid, is your lover’s wheelhouse, not mine.”
It was like she was being told Lexa was going to die all over again.
She didn’t know a lot about souls, didn’t know what it meant to have a broken soul.
But she could guess.
It meant that she would never have the Lexa she knew before the accident.
It meant that nothing would be the same ever again.
It meant that she’d made a deal with Apollo for nothing.
She knew this is what Hades had meant.
Your actions have condemned Lexa to a fate worse than death.
It took a moment for Persephone to focus. “You really are the worst.”
She turned on her heels and left the elevator as its doors opened. Apollo followed close behind.
“Just because you failed to recognize the flaws in your bargain doesn’t make me a bad person.”
“No, everything else you do makes you a bad person.”
“You don’t even know me,” he argued.
“Your actions speak loud and clear, Apollo. I saw all I needed at the Lyre.”
“There are two sides to every story, Love Nugget.”
“Then by all means, tell me your side,” she snapped.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“Then why do you keep talking?”
“Fine, I won’t.”
“Good.”
There was silence as they crossed the main floor of the hospital and exited the building, then Apollo spoke again.
“You’re trying to distract me from my purpose!”
“I thought you weren’t talking,” she complained, and then asked. “What purpose?”
“I came to summon you,” he said. “For a date.”
“First, you don’t summon someone for dates,” she said. “Second, you and I aren’t dating. You asked for a companion. That’s it.”
“Friends go on dates all the time,” he argued.
“We’re not friends.”
“We are for six months. That’s what you agreed to, Honey Lips.”
Persephone glared. “Stop calling me names.”
“I’m not calling you names.”
“Love nugget? Honey lips?”
He grinned. “Pet names. I’m trying to find the right one.”
“I don’t want a pet name. I want to be called by my name.”
Hermes had given her a nickname, and she’d come to think of it as endearing.
“Too bad. Part of the bargain, Baby.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she said.
“You missed it; it was in the fine print.”
Persephone knew her eyes were glowing bright green.
“It’s not an option, Apollo.” She cut him off. “You will call me Persephone and nothing else. If I want to be addressed in another way, I’ll tell you.”
Apollo had a lot to learn about respecting people’s wishes. She noted how his jaw ticked, and she wondered what he would do next.
“Fine,” he said between his teeth. “But you will join me tonight. The Seven Muses. Be there at ten.”
“Tonight, really isn’t a great night, Apollo.”
She needed to go to the Underworld and hear Hades’ explanation for why he was with Leuce, plus she needed to finalize preparations for the Summer Solstice celebration tomorrow night.
“I didn’t ask you if the timing worked for you,” the god replied. “I’m telling you to get ready. We have an event.”
