A Touch of Darkness (Hades & Persephone #1)

by Scarlett St. Clair

  Adonis left then, and Lexa looked at Persephone. “Tell me—is he as handsome as Hades?”

  Persephone didn’t mean to scoff, but there was no comparison. She also didn’t mean to offer a resounding, “No.”

  But she did.

  Lexa raised a brow and smiled. She leaned forward and pecked Persephone on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight. Oh, and make sure you follow up with Adonis. He’s right—we should go out together.”

  As Lexa left, Persephone deposited her belongings at her desk and went to make coffee. Post lunch, she was feeling tired, and she needed all her energy for what she was about to do.

  When she returned to her desk, Adonis stepped out of Demetri’s office.

  “So, about this weekend,” he said.

  “This weekend?” She questioned.

  “I thought we could go to the Trials,” he said. “You know, with Lexa. I’ll invite Aro, Xeres, and Sybil.”

  The Trials were a series of competitions. Those who competed hoped to represent their territory in the upcoming Pentathlon. Persephone had never been, but she’d seen and read coverage in the past.

  “Oh…well, actually, before we discuss that, I was hoping you might help me with something.”

  Adonis brightened. “Sure, what’s up?

  “Has anyone here ever written about the God of the Dead?”

  Adonis laughed, and then he stopped himself. “Oh, you’re serious?”

  “Very.”

  “I mean, it’s kind of hard.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not like Hades forces these humans into gambling with him. They do so willingly and then face the consequences.”

  “That doesn’t mean the consequences are right or even fair,” Persephone argued.

  “No, but no one wants to end up in Tartarus, Persephone,” he said.

  That seemed to contradict what Demetri had to say on her first day—that New Athens News always sought truth. To say she was disappointed was an understatement, and Adonis must have noticed.

  “Look …if you’re serious about this, I can send you what I have on him.”

  “You’d do that?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said with a grin. “On one condition—you let me read the article you write.”

  She had no problem sending Adonis her article, and welcomed feedback, so she said, “Deal.”

  Adonis delivered.

  Shortly after he returned to his desk, she received an email with notes and voice recordings detailing deals the god had made with several mortals. Not everyone who wrote or called were victims of Hades; some were families of victims whose lives had been cut short due to a lost bargain.

  In total, she counted seventy-seven different cases. As she read and listened, a common thread emerged from interviews.

  All the mortals who’d gone to Hades for help were in desperate need of something—money or health or love. Hades would agree to grant whatever the mortal asked for if they won against him at a game of his choice.

  But if they lost, they were at his mercy.

  And Hades seemed to delight in offering an impossible challenge.

  An hour in, Adonis dropped by to check on her.

  “Finding any of it useful?”

  “I want to interview Hades,” she said. “Today, if possible.”

  She felt impatient—the sooner she got this article out, the better.

  Adonis paled. “You want to...what?”

  “I’d like to give Hades a chance to offer his side of things,” she explained. Everything Adonis had on Hades was from the perspective of the mortal, and she was curious how the god saw bargains and mortals and their vices. “You know, before I write my article.”

  Adonis blinked a couple times and finally found his words.

  “That’s not how this works, Persephone. You can’t just show up at a god’s place of business and demand an audience. There’s a…there are rules.”

  She raised a brow and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Rules?”

  “Yes, rules. We have to submit a request to his PR manager.”

  “A request that will be denied, I’m assuming?”

  Adonis looked uncomfortable.

  “Look, if we go there at least we can say we tried to reach him for comment, and he denied us. I can’t write this article without trying and I don’t want to wait.”

  Not when I can enter Nevernight at will, she thought. Hades would regret kissing her when he saw how she planned to use his favor.

  After a moment, Adonis sighed.

  “Okay. I’ll let Demetri know we’re heading out.”

  He started to turn, and Persephone stopped him. “You haven’t…told Demetri about this, have you?”

  “Not that you plan to write this article.”

  “Can we keep it a secret? For now?”

  Adonis smiled. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, Persephone.”

  Adonis parked on the curb in front of Nevernight. His red Lexus glared against the black backdrop of Hades’ obsidian tower. Even though Persephone was determined to follow through with this interview, she had a moment of doubt. Was she being too bold in assuming she could even use Hades’ favor in this way?

  Adonis came up beside her. “Looks different in the daylight, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she said absently. The tower did look different—harsher. A jagged cut in a sparkling city.

  Adonis tried the door, but it was locked, so he knocked and offered no time for someone to answer before retreating.

  “Looks like no one’s home.”

  He definitely did not want to be here, and Persephone wondered why he hesitated to confront the god when he came to his club so often at night.

  As Adonis turned away from the door, Persephone tried it and it opened.

  “Yes!” She hissed to herself.

  Adonis looked back at her, puzzled.

  “How did you...it was locked!”

  She shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t pull hard enough. Come on.”

  As she disappeared into Nevernight she heard Adonis say, “I swear it was locked.”

  She descended the stairs, entering the now-familiar club. Her heels clicked against the glossy black floor and she looked up into the darkness of the tall ceiling, knowing that this floor could be seen from Hades office.

  “Hello? Anybody home?” Adonis called.

  Persephone cringed and resisted the urge to tell Adonis to shut up. She’d had it in her head that she’d go upstairs to Hades office and catch him off guard. Though, she wasn’t so sure that was a great idea. She considered it yesterday when he’d answered the door disheveled. At least if she surprised him, she might learn the truth about whatever was going on between him and Minthe.

  Speaking of Minthe, the redheaded nymph emerged from the darkness of the room. She wore a fitted black dress and heels. She was just as lovely as Persephone remembered. The Goddess of Spring had met and befriended many nymphs, but none of them looked quite as severe as Minthe. She wondered if that was the result of serving the God of the Underworld.

  “Can I help you?” She had an inviting and smoky voice, but it didn’t hide the sharpness of her tone.

  “Hi,” Adonis brushed past Persephone, suddenly finding his confidence, and extending his hand. Persephone was surprised and slightly frustrated when Minthe took his hand and offered a smile.

  “Adonis.”

  “Minthe.”

  “Do you work here?” he asked.

  “I am Lord Hades assistant,” she replied.

  Persephone looked away and rolled her eyes. Assistant seemed like a loaded word.

  “Really?” Adonis sounded genuinely surprised. “But you’re so beautiful.”

  It really wasn’t Adonis’s fault. Nymphs had that effect on people, but Persephone was on a mission and growing impatient.

  Adonis held Minthe’s hand longer than necessary until Persephone cleared her throat, and he dropped it.

  “Uh…and thi
s is Persephone.” He gestured to her. Minthe said nothing, she didn’t even nod. “We are from New Athens News.”

  “So, you’re a reporter?” Her eyes flashed, and Adonis probably took it as interest in his occupation, but Persephone knew otherwise.

  “We are actually here to speak with Hades,” she said. “Is he around?”

  Minthe’s eyes burned into her. “Do you have an appointment with Lord Hades?”

  “No,” Persephone said.

  “Then I’m afraid you cannot speak to him.”

  “Oh, well, that’s too bad,” Adonis said. “We’ll come back when we have an appointment. Persephone?”

  She ignored Adonis, glaring at Minthe.

  “Inform your lord that Persephone is here and would like to speak with him.” It was a command, but Minthe was not fazed and smiled, looking at Adonis.

  “Your counterpart must be new and therefore ignorant to how this works. See, Lord Hades does not give interviews.”

  “Of course,” Adonis said and wrapped his fingers around Persephone’s wrists. “Let’s go, Persephone. I told you, there is a protocol we need to follow.”

  Persephone looked at Adonis’s fingers wrapped around her wrist and then met his gaze. She wasn’t sure what look she gave him, but her eyes burned, and anger was rising hot in her blood. “Let. Me. Go.”

  His eyes widened and he released her. She turned her attention back to Minthe.

  “I am not ignorant to how this works,” Persephone said. “I simply demand to speak with Hades.”

  “Demand?” Minthe crossed her arms over her chest, brows rising to her hairline, then she smiled, and it was wicked. “Fine. I’ll tell him you demand to see him, but only because I will take great satisfaction in hearing him turn you away.”

  She twisted on her heels and melted into the darkness. Persephone wondered for a moment if she really was going to tell Hades or send an ogre to kick them out.

  “Why would Hades know your name?” Adonis asked.

  She didn’t look at him as she replied, “I met him the same night I met you.”

  She could feel his questions building in the air between them. She just hoped he didn’t ask them.

  Minthe returned looking pissed, and that filled Persephone with glee, especially since the nymph had been so sure Hades would turn them away.

  She lifted her chin and said tightly, “Follow me.”

  Persephone thought about telling Minthe she didn’t need a guide, but Adonis was here, and he was already curious. She didn’t want him knowing she had been here yesterday, or about her contract with the God of the Dead.

  Persephone offered Adonis a glance before following Minthe up the same set of twisting stairs she’d followed Hades up yesterday, and to the ornate gold and black doors of Hades office. Adonis offered a low whistle.

  Today she focused on the gold rather than the flowers, thinking it fitting he would choose gold. He was the God of Precious Metals.

  Minthe didn’t knock before she entered Hades’ office. She strode ahead, her hips swaying. Perhaps she hoped to hold Hades’ attention—but Persephone felt his gaze on her the moment she entered the room. He tracked her like prey. He stood near the windows, and she wondered how long he had been watching them below.

  Judging by how rigid he stood, she guessed he’d been there a while.

  Unlike yesterday when she had demanded entrance into Nevernight, Hades appearance was pristine. He was an elegant chasm of darkness, and she might have thought to be terrified if she wasn’t so angry with him.

  Minthe paused and nodded. “Persephone, my lord.”

  Her tone had taken on that sultry edge again. Persephone imagined she used it when she wanted to bend men to her will. Perhaps she forgot Hades was a god. She shifted, turning to face Persephone again, standing just behind the god.

  “And...her friend, Adonis,” she added.

  It was at the mention of Adonis, that Hades eyes finally left Persephone, and she felt released from a spell. Hades gaze slid to her counterpart and darkened before he nodded to Minthe.

  “You are dismissed, Minthe. Thank you.”

  Once she was gone, Hades moved to fill a glass with brown liquid from a crystal decanter. He did not ask them to sit or if they wanted any. It wasn’t a good sign. He intended this meeting to be very short.

  “To what do I owe this...intrusion?” he asked.

  Her eyes narrowed at the word. She wanted to ask him the same—because that’s what he’d done, intruded on her life.

  “Lord Hades,” she said, and took her notebook out of her purse. She’d written down the names of every victim who had called New Athens News with a complaint. “Adonis and I are from New Athens News. We have been investigating several complaints about you and wondered if you might comment.”

  He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped but said nothing. Beside her, Adonis offered a nervous laugh. “Persephone is investigating,” he said. “I’m just…here for moral support.”

  She glared at him. Coward.

  “Is that a list of my offenses?” His eyes were dark and void of emotion. She wondered if this was how he welcomed souls into his world.

  She ignored his question and read a few of the names on the list. After a moment, she looked up.

  “Do you remember these people?”

  He took a languid sip of his liquor. “I remember every soul.”

  “And every bargain?”

  His eyes narrowed and he studied her a moment before asking, “The point, Persephone. Get to the point. You’ve had no trouble of it in the past, why now?”

  She felt Adonis look at her, and she glared at Hades, her face flush with anger. He made it sound like they’d known each other far longer than two days.

  “You agree to offer mortals whatever they desire if they gamble with you and win.”

  “Not all mortals and not all desires,” he said.

  “Oh, forgive me, you are selective in the lives you destroy.”

  His face hardened. “I do not destroy lives.”

  “You only make the terms of your contract known after you’ve won! That is deception.”

  “The terms are clear; the details are mine to determine. It is not deception, as you call it. It is a gamble.”

  “You challenge their vice. You lay their darkest secrets bare—”

  “I challenge what is destroying their life. It is their choice to conquer or succumb.”

  She stared at him. He spoke in such a matter-of-fact tone, as if he’d had this conversation thousands of times.

  “And how to do you know their vice?” she asked.

  It was the answer she had been waiting for, and at the question, a wicked smile crossed Hades’ face. It transformed him and hinted at the god beneath the glamour.

  “I see to the soul,” he said. “What burdens it, what corrupts it, what destroys it—and challenge it.”

  But what do you see when you look at me?

  She hated to think he knew her secrets and she knew nothing about him.

  And then she snapped.

  “You are the worst sort of god!”

  Hades flinched, but quickly recovered from his shock as it melted into anger.

  “Persephone—” Adonis warned, but Hades warm baritone quickly drowned him out.

  “I am helping these mortals,” he argued, taking a deliberate step toward her.

  “How? By offering an impossible bargain? Abstain from addiction or lose your life? That’s absolutely ridiculous, Hades.”

  “I have had success,” he argued.

  “Oh? And what is your success? I suppose it doesn’t matter to you as you win either way, right? All souls come to you at some point.”

  His gaze turned stony and he moved to close the distance between them, but before he could, Adonis stepped between the god and Persephone. Hades eyes ignited, and with a flick of his wrist, Adonis went limp and collapsed to the floor.

  “What did you do?” She started to reach for him, but Hades
grabbed her wrists, keeping her on her feet and drawing her into him. She held her breath, not wanting to be this close, where she could feel his warmth and smell his scent. His breath caressed her lips as he spoke.

  “I’m assuming you don’t want him to hear what I have to say to you—don’t worry, I won’t request a favor when I erase his memory.”

  “Oh, how kind of you,” she mocked, craning her neck to meet his gaze. He bent over her, his hold on her wrists the only thing keeping her from falling onto her back.

  “What liberties you take with my favor, Lady Persephone.” His voice was low—too low for this kind of conversation. It was the voice of a lover—warm and impassioned.

  “You never specified how I had to use your favor.”

  His eyes narrowed a fraction.

  “I didn’t, though I expected you to know better than to drag this mortal into my realm.”

  It was her turn to narrow her eyes. “Do you know him?”

  Hades ignored the question.

  “You plan to write a story about me? Tell me, Lady Persephone, will you detail your experiences with me? How you recklessly invited me to your table, begged me to teach you cards—”

  “I did not beg!”

  “Will you speak of how you flush from your pretty head to your toes in my presence and how I make you lose your breath—”

  “Shut up!”

  As he spoke, he leaned closer.

  “Will you speak of the favor I have given you or are you too ashamed?”

  “Stop!”

  She pulled away, and he released her, but he was not through.

  “You may blame me for the choices you made, but it changes nothing. You are mine for six months—and that means, if you write about me, I will ensure there are consequences.”

  She tried hard to keep from shivering at his possessive words. He was calm as he spoke, and it unnerved her because she had the distinct impression that he was anything but calm on the inside.

  “It is true what they say about you,” she said, her chest rising and falling. “You heed no prayer. You offer no mercy.”

  Hades’ face remained blank. “No one prays to the God of the Dead, my lady, and when they do, it is already too late.”

  Hades waved his hand, and Adonis awoke, inhaling sharply. He sat up quickly and looked around. When his eyes landed on Hades, he scrambled to his feet.