by Amelia Wilde
I am looking at her. Conor looks, too, with a low, questioning growl.
“Stay.”
He stays. He always does. When he was a puppy, I spent hours shaping him into the guard dog he would become. Those hours pay off especially well in moments like this, when I want people shaken to the core.
White dress, hair spilling down her back in curls, the gentle slope of her waist up to perfect tits. What’s under the dress, aside from those tits? Little to nothing, judging by the hard little peaks of her nipples.
I want her.
My mind sighs with all the things I could do to that pretty little body, consequences be damned. I shove the idea of the apocalypse, of all these fields burning around me, out of my mind, crushing it under one foot like a spent cigarette. Fuck all of that. What matters now, in the wordless animal part of me, are all the sensations crashing together in a hail of lust. My blood unleashed, thundering through my veins. The tease of the night breeze on my skin. And the pulse between my legs, harder than iron.
A movement distracts me, a glancing blow against my shin. It’s so pathetic it might as well be the touch of a tailor, whisper-light. But it reminds me that I’m currently killing a man. I waste a look on him. The moonlight leaches his skin of color, but I can still see the dusky shade to his cheeks. Might as well end it now so I can turn my attention to better things.
“Stop.” Her clear, young voice rings like a bell across the space between us. “Please.”
I’m watching his eyes, not hers, but that please lights up kindling at the base of my spine. That—I want more of that. The edge of fear, the end of the word almost, almost, slipping into a whimper. I’m torn. I want to see her face when she begs, but something interesting happens when she does it—the half-dead man’s eyes open wide. His expression, for someone on the brink, has an element of hope. A little more of it, a little brighter, would make it even more of a pleasure when I stamp it out. I could say yes. “No.”
She leaves the train with footfalls soft as rain.
“You’re killing him.” Her half-exhaled words are thick with desperation and tears. I want to lick those tears away from her skin, more than I’ve ever wanted anything. No wonder Demeter kept her hidden. No wonder, no wonder. To think of what a man could do to her.
Ah—that’s it, isn’t it? This man, the one who couldn’t even enter a train and escape with his life—he had plans for her. No doubt she believed whatever pretty things he said to her. Boys like this, with smiles like that, are all talk, the fuckers.
“That’s right. I am killing him.”
“No, please—please don’t do that.” She can hardly draw a full breath, and the sound of it is intoxicating. I reward myself with a glance. Tears stream silently down her cheeks. “I know who you are. Don’t do this.”
A laugh tumbles out from between my lips before I can stop it. “You know who I am. So? Why should I spare your boyfriend?”
She hesitates. That moment of hesitation confirms what I already knew—this is Demeter’s daughter, without a shadow of a doubt. This innocent creature, the one her mother named Persephone, radiating innocence and terror, actually fucking hesitates.
“He’s not my boyfriend. We’ve never—we didn’t say that we were together. We were going to—” He sags in my grip. I’ll give him this—he fought longer than I expected to. But she’s delivered a killing blow.
“You were going to meet him, weren’t you? Out in the middle of the night, all alone. And then what?”
“Go to the city.” A mournful half-sob. “Then go somewhere else, somewhere my mother couldn’t find us.”
That sparks my interest. A girl like this, running away from Demeter? A very interesting choice. Why would she leave all that power behind? Unless, of course, she didn’t have access to it. But why wouldn’t she? Demeter will need a successor eventually. In her line of work, most people don’t grow very old.
“That’s not going to happen now,” I tell her casually. “You must know that.”
“Why not?” Such an adorable struggle. She clearly doesn’t want to sound plaintive, and yet...she does. “You could let him go.” In my peripheral vision I see her hands lift, then fall helplessly back to her sides. “If you let us go we would never bother you again.”
“You won’t bother me again anyway.” I’m committed. I want the adrenaline and the release. The world will never miss a nobody like the one I’ve caught. “Really, you should be grateful.”
“Grateful for what?” Persephone comes a tentative step forward.
“That I let you watch. If you hurry, you might even get to say goodbye.”
I’ve been toying with him. One swift snap and this is all over. The summer wind kicks up and the train whistle wails across the night, setting Persephone into motion.
She runs across the empty space and throws herself against my arm, her legs pressed against Conor’s side. He snaps at her, growling, and a bark tears loose into the air—but he doesn’t move except for the trembling of his body. He holds himself back, even though nobody runs at him that way. Nobody runs at me that way. And here she is, ready to get torn apart.
“Down.” Conor backs off, but he’s not happy about it. Tension pours off of him, but he puts his head down on his hands. He trembles almost as much as she does. A cool wash of adrenaline spills into my veins, probably from shock. She isn’t strong enough to pull my arms away from her boyfriend or break my grip, and after a moment I realize through her sobs that she’s not trying to. She’s only trying to get my attention.
He makes a horrible sound, halfway under the ground already, and Persephone gasps the sharp gasp of all women since time immemorial.
“Please,” she cries. “Don’t kill him. There must be something I can do, something—”
Oh, the sweet thing. I look down at her, clinging ineffectually to my arm. Nothing would be better than to let her think she’s coming with me of her own free will. Nothing in the world.
“I’m not here to make a bargain.”
Her eyes are huge and dark, tears glistening on her chin. She licks her lips.
“I’ll do anything.”
In that moment something shifts, a boulder rolling away from the open mouth of a cave, dawn splitting the sky above. I’m taking her regardless. The world has presented me with an opportunity and I’m seizing it, whether that opportunity fights me or not. But the tears, and the begging, and the noble sacrifice—I want more of that, too. And I fucking shouldn’t. I absolutely shouldn’t. I should kill the man as an object lesson in being more careful and let her run back to her mother’s house.
I let the fool in my hands fall to the ground.
It’s a sudden drop and he has no time to catch himself. The guy’s body spills onto the dirt in a heap. Is he breathing? I don’t know, and I don’t care.
Persephone lets go of my arm, a fresh wave of sobs, the pitch rising.
Conor gets to his feet.
I put a hand on his head. “Wait. You might still get your chance.”
He makes an impatient sound.
“Decker,” she gasps, and I roll my eyes. Decker. Not my love, not darling, not any other term of endearment. Just her ticket out. And here she is, fluttering around him like they’re Romeo and Juliet.
“Deck, wake up.” He coughs once and rolls over onto his side, knees folding up into the fetal position. Pity. Persephone falls to her knees and puts a hand on his cheek. “Oh, I thought, I thought—I love you, I thought it was too late—”
She loves him now. How precious.
One sharp whistle and shadows detach from the trees. The train howls out its own whistle a second time. The train won’t actually leave until I tell it to, but she doesn’t need to know that. I pluck her up by the waist, practically weightless, and she tries to get back down.
“No, no, let me go—”
This puts Conor on edge. He nudges my shin, baring his teeth. He wants a piece of her. I want a piece of her too.
I slip one hand
around her throat. Fuck, she’s delicate, her pulse fluttering just underneath the skin. Persephone goes still and lets me turn her to face me. She pants as I run the pad of my thumb over her chin. It quivers, trembling along with the rest of her body.
“Are you going to kill me now?”
My men step up behind her, but she doesn’t dare turn her head. Two of them hook their arms under Decker’s and drag him past us, giving us a wide berth. Her eyes follow his slumped body. The man won’t shut up. All the groaning, the whining—fucking pathetic.
“You said you would do anything to save him. That was your bargain. Are you telling me you’d rather be dead?”
A flicker of fear is chased off her face by a nameless expression, a light flaring in her eyes. She glances down at Conor, the whites of her eyes glowing in the moonlight. “No,” she whispers. “I want to live.”
I lean in close, bending down so my lips are level with her ear. Her heart beats hard under my fingertips. She smells sweet, like roses and sunshine and something unique to her. It must be the fresh softness of her. Fuck, the things I’m going to do to her, dangling her not-boyfriend on a string as if she’ll ever be anything but mine. The urge to throw her down into the dirt is so strong it almost overtakes me, but now that all this has transpired, it’s best for the train to move on. I’m no longer interested in dealing with Demeter tonight—not now that I have her daughter for my very own.
The poor thing.
“We’ll see how long that lasts.”
5
Persephone
I should scream and kick and pound at his back. I should fight him or die trying. There are lots of things I should do.
But the one thing my mother never explicitly warned me about—god, she never told me anything, it’s clear, it’s so clear—is that he’s huge. He’s not just ruthless. He’s not just strong. He’s taller than Decker by a good five inches, and the two of them together—
I choke back a sob. Decker never stood a chance. I’ve never seen muscles on a man like this before, and the only men I’ve ever really seen are my mother’s fieldworkers. None of them look this strong. None of them feel this strong. He’s got an iron grip just under my ass and I don’t even have to struggle to know that I’ll never, never get free. The dream of seeing the New York Public Library—gone up in flames. Cicadas scream on my behalf.
The night breeze is the world’s gentlest caress on my skin, not even powerful enough to dry my tears. So I let them fall to the ground behind us. My heart could stop right this instant. It hurts like a broken rib. I’ve never been so far over my head in my life. I’ll do anything. That’s what I said, and I saw it in Luther Hades’ eyes—the moment he accepted the deal. There was no relief there, or happiness. Only a cruel satisfaction. What else was I supposed to do? What else was I supposed to do? Let Decker die? And what does it mean that the smallest, worst part of me considered it?
But I didn’t run, did I? No. I traded the only thing I have to give. Me. And I might not know much about the world, but I know this—people live and die by vague terms. Maybe that was why she said the same thing about Hades over and over again. If he finds you, he will kill you.
She was wrong about that.
He hasn’t killed me.
Not yet.
And whatever happens now could be far, far worse.
I want to howl for Decker, to chase after the men until they let me see if he’s all right. My chest aches with suppressing a ragged shout. He’s not all right. How could he be all right? How could he ever be all right again?
How could I?
Hades cuts off my thoughts with an abrupt turn, his dog padding quietly along next to his feet. It’s a massive dog, sharp-teeth, and I heard its growl. I couldn’t say what kind it is but I don’t need to know. It could kill me as easily as Hades could, but there’s only so much room for fear in my head. All of it blends together, loud and pounding.
We’re only one car back from the car I came through, but it might as well be a hundred miles. I pick my head up and crane my neck for a glimpse of Decker. The retreating shadows of the men who dragged him away grow dimmer in the far distance. Another cascade of sobs falls from my lips. I gulp them back and Hades laughs, the low rumble soft against my belly through his shoulders.
“Don’t hold back.” His arm tightens across my legs. “I’m very much enjoying the sound of your tears. It’s such a...” He cocks his head to the side, leaving a bare inch of space for the night to rush into. “It’s such a pure sadness. Lovely.”
“You’re horrible,” I choke out, and then I’m falling, moving so fast I can’t help bracing for the impact that’s sure to come.
It never does. Instead, Hades sets me on my feet on the top step of the train car. My knees wobble. I hope, I pray, that the dress is hiding it. He considers me from a few steps away. Silhouetted there in the moonlight, all of him stands out in sharp relief—only something’s different, something’s wrong. The way the shadows play over his face isn’t quite right, like he’s pulling the moonlight into his own dark heart and stripping all the brightness away. The light can only get as close as the edges of him, and then... somehow, he repels it. My own breath sounds harsh and loud against the hum of the train and the wash of the wind in the leaves.
“Would a horrible man be so kind to you?” A grin flashes across his face, teeth white in the strange shadows. He radiates a mean confidence. It comes off him in waves. The city has violence. This man has violence. His dog paws at the ground. “I’ve even left the flowers in your hair.”
“If you were being kind you would have killed me already.” He’s torturing me now without touching me. A better man wouldn’t put me through this crushing terror, but he loves it. An unspeakable fear closes my throat. The wondering tone about the flowers is scarier than everything else.
“I’m honoring your own request.” He puts his hands in his pockets, standing tall. Hades takes a single step forward, but it’s like he’s slammed a door on the rest of the world. “If I recall correctly, you were willing to trade anything to save that young man’s life. It’s a fair trade, don’t you think? Your life for his?”
“So you are going to kill me.” My chin shakes, and damn it, if I have to die, I don’t want to do it with a quivering chin and a snotty nose. “Just do it then.”
Hades tips his head back and laughs. It’s the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard, and yet—and yet—something about it strikes me as absolutely beautiful. It fits him, even while it gets under my skin, down to the bones. He raises one hand and I grit my teeth. I’m not going to take a step back. I don’t even know if I can take a step back, but I’m not going to. I lift my chin, making room for his hand around my throat, and he makes a soft mmm sound.
“You’re offering,” he muses. “Either you’re hoping I kill you, or you’re doing your best to meet the terms of our little arrangement.” His hand hovers in the air, close enough for me to feel the heat of his palm but not touching me—not yet. “Of course, there’s another explanation for baring that pretty neck to me.”
He lets the statement hang in the air until I’m ready to burst. The train whistle sounds again—this is the third time—but Hades doesn’t so much as blink. He’s watching me. It’s more than watching, though—this is no casual gaze. He’s pinning me here with his eyes. Making me wait. Stripping me down. Heat sears across my cheeks. I’ll do anything, I’d said. I expected him to kill us both, honestly. I believed my mother. I was willing to throw myself onto the sword to save Deck, or at least die with him, and now— I clear my throat so I can force the words out.
“There’s no other explanation.”
“You don’t want to admit that you want this.” I shake my head, horrified. No, no, no. “Oh, not on the surface, sweetheart. Deep down, where you feel the most filthy and dirty and shameful. I think that part of you likes a hand on your throat. I’m not surprised, given the company you’ve been keeping.”
My lips have gone numb, but even wor
se, the heat has fled my cheeks and gone down between my legs. Hot shame presses my thighs together.
“I was trying to survive. I only wanted—”
“I like it when you cry.” Hades does touch me now, two fingertips on my cheek, burning a path along the tracks of my tears. “I like the way it makes your body shake. A man could get drunk off that feeling.”
I press my lips together, trying not to let any more tears leak out. It’s a futile thing. I couldn’t stop them if I tried.
“That’s what you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you.” Hades presses one thick finger to my lips, silencing me. My breath superheats in my lungs. I have a chestful of shame. He’s right, that little voice taunts. He’s right, and you know it. “It’s not about wanting, it’s about taking. And I’m going to take everything you offered.” He cocks his head to the side, studying my lips. “You know, not many men would let you buy something as valuable as a life without upfront payment. Luckily for you, I have a sense of honor. Turn around.”
The air rushes out of my lungs in a whoosh.
“What?” He makes me say it against his finger.
Hades leans in. “Turn around.”
A montage of terrible things stampedes through my mind. Now? Here? On the steps of a train car? It’s too much, too soon, and at the same time I’m seized with a desire so powerful the hairs on the back of my arms stand up. The anticipation is always the worst part. I’ve learned that enough times, living with my mother. If he’d only just start, if he’d only just do what he’s going to do, I could finally exhale. But I can’t, because I’m frozen here on the steps, his eyes concealed by the thickening night, and if there’s one thing I do know, it’s this—you don’t turn your back on the monster in the room. I won’t turn my back on the dog, which looks ready to attack. It reminds me of Hades. They’re too similar. Too big and terrifying.
Hades drops his hand.
“You’re slow to obey, I see. That won’t be a problem for very long.”