by Amelia Wilde
In the bright sunlight I try every window, every door.
I run my fingers along the crown molding, as if a secret latch will appear.
One of the heavy chairs would probably break the window if I managed to throw it, but that would make enough sound to draw everyone’s attention. It would also be a twenty story drop down to the concrete. I want to escape. Not die.
It’s at least mid-morning when I give up and slump on the bed again.
Nobody disturbed me last night. Only my dreams. But someone will be coming soon. One night they will, and I’m already questioning whether that person will be Hades. It was so terrible and intense and real with him, but it could have been a dream, too. This could all be an illusion.
The clothes in the wardrobe are meant for whores but I pull them on anyway. Lacy panties and bras. A silk dress with a neckline so low it almost shows my nipples. It’s that or the clothes I was wearing when I got here, and those seem stained with betrayal.
I’m brushing out my hair when a knock sounds at the door.
It’s Zeus, there in the hallway in a fresh suit. “Sleep well?”
The sight of him jars the confusion out of me. No more feeling sorry for myself. No more. Done.
“Do you always care so much about your prisoners?”
“You remind me of Demeter when she was younger.” He arches an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t think you’re a prisoner here, Persephone. This is only a temporary arrangement.”
“You locked me in last night.” Anger stirs, growling. “Why would you lock me in if I’m not a prisoner?”
“For your protection.” Zeus looks completely sincere. “I go to great lengths to keep my clients in line, but I wanted to be absolutely sure no harm would come to you.”
“You sent someone to steal me. You’re lying.” My voice doesn’t tremble at all. “How is that protecting me?”
“I saved you. From my brother, who is far more dangerous to you than I am.” Understanding comes over Zeus’s face. “Oh, god. You did more with him than sign a contract, didn’t you?”
“What I did is none of your business.”
Zeus steps forward and takes my face in his hand, looking deep into my eyes. Searching for something. My heart flies up into my throat.
“Perhaps you’re damaged goods after all,” he says thoughtfully. “Look at that. You think you want him. Tell me, little Persephone. What did he say to you to convince you that he’s not an evil bastard who’d just as soon kill you as kiss you? Or had you not worked that out yet?”
I yank his wrist down so he can’t touch me anymore.
“I think you’re jealous of him.” I’ve never had siblings, but I’ve read about them. Jealousy is the one thing all siblings have in common. “You wouldn’t—you wouldn’t talk about him so much if you weren’t jealous.”
Zeus bursts out laughing, and if I didn’t hate him so much it would be the most intoxicating sound in the world. He laughs like nothing has ever gone wrong in his life. He has a beautiful, melodic laugh. Zeus throws his head back and it’s like he’s been kissed by the sun.
“Jealous? Of his sad little life, all holed up in his mountain? No, I’m not jealous. Who could be?” His laughter settles, tapers off. Zeus clears his throat. “You’ll have to excuse me. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. No, my relationship with my brother, such that it is, doesn’t inspire jealousy. It might be better if we didn’t need a relationship at all, but that’s not how the chips have fallen.”
“Do you pay your women in diamonds, then?” I cross my arms over my chest. I’m not wearing this dress for Zeus.
“Aren’t you a clever one?” Zeus reaches down to press a fingertip to my nose, and my entire body recoils. What the hell is he doing? “No, I pay my employees in cash. Diamonds would be cumbersome for them. Less so for me.” He sighs. “Our government, in all its wisdom, frowns upon businesses like mine. I’m shocked that your mother didn’t explain this to you. She uses Hades in much the same way.”
“So things will be heated when he comes to get me.”
Zeus actually covers his mouth. It does nothing to hide his grin. “Hades won’t come here, sweet, innocent Persephone. He can’t.”
That, more than anything else Zeus has said, makes the floor feel unsteady beneath my feet. I can’t imagine my mother striking a deal with Hades and I can’t imagine Hades being dissuaded from anything. Zeus just sounds so confident. He’s sure Hades won’t come here.
The ghost of a thousand whispers echoes in my ear. If he finds you, he’ll kill you. My mother wouldn’t make a business partner out of that kind of man. Would she?
I want to scream.
“You didn’t come up here to ask me questions about my mother,” I tell him.
“Right,” Zeus says. “I came up here to tell you that you’ll be coming downstairs this evening.”
To the party. To all those men, scenting all those women. A thin line of sweat breaks out underneath my hairline. “I’m not coming to your party.”
“Oh, you are.” Zeus goes down the hall with a long, graceful stride. He turns his head halfway down. “You’re the guest of honor.”
7
Persephone
Panic rages in my chest. It’s a storm I can’t calm, one that touches every part of me. My lips go numb. My hands go cold. My chest tight, the pressure unrelenting. Guest of honor? No, no, no. I can only imagine what that means. How is this nightmare coming true? Once I read in a book that we spend all our time worrying about the things that never happen. The real problems are the ones that take us by surprise. I never worried that I’d be a prisoner in a whorehouse. Not ever, not even when Decker and I were making plans for escape.
Another knock on the door sends me lurching for it without thinking. If it’s Zeus again, I’ll attack him. I will.
It’s not Zeus.
The woman with red lipstick stands in the hallway, a metallic case in her hands. I look like a wild thing with half-brushed hair and a prostitute’s dress. She looks as elegant as she did last night, with more muted lipstick and a comfortable outfit. I’d kill for those leggings. I want her flowing top. When she sees me, her face falls.
“Oh, no. You look so sad—are you all right?”
I shake my head, once, twice. I can’t stop.
“Come here, honey. Sit down.”
She guides me to a chair by the window and presses me into it. Brings me a glass of water. Makes me drink. Then she crouches down in front of me and looks me in the eye.
“I’m Aurelia, but everybody calls me Reya.” Her smile is as warm as Zeus’s and strikes me as genuine. “I’m sorry if I upset you last night. I thought you were another girl joining the ranks.” Plaything. That’s what she called me. “They pay more for fresh blood.”
“I’m not fresh blood,” I say numbly. “I didn’t want to come here.”
She purses her lips in a gorgeous frown. “Life gets hard out there. I know. Trust me, we all do. Thank goodness we have Zeus. Anything I can do to help?”
Life gets hard out there? What is she talking about? Her tone implies this place is a refuge. There’s no way it can be. Women are sold here. It’s just dressed up in silk and satin. I shouldn’t be confiding in this woman—Reya. I don’t even know her.
The truth swims up and bursts out. “I won’t be here much longer.”
“You’ll be here tonight, though.” She pats my hand and smiles. “Zeus thought you might want some help getting ready. I always like to do it early in case I make any mistakes.”
“This early?” The thought of sitting around, dressed up and waiting for Zeus for the rest of the day, makes me vaguely nauseous. There’s also a nagging memory of what getting ready meant when I first arrived at the mountain. “How long is this going to take?”
Reya cocks her head to the side and grins. “Longer, when you account for lunch.” A knock at the door punctuates her smile and makes it even brighter. “Speaking of, there it is.”
I swea
r I’m not hungry, but as soon as she opens the door and pulls a tray inside, I discover I’m ravenous. Last night, before Lillian woke me up—it was only last night—Hades took me. He made me his. And we didn’t linger over dinner afterward.
Reya and I linger over lunch. She is the first person in years to treat me like a normal person would. Except she’s not a normal person, and this isn’t a normal situation. It is not normal to sit in a skyscraper of a whorehouse eating BLTs with a prostitute. Still. I put the food in my mouth and eat it, and it dampens the raw hunger and anxiety. Food has a way of doing that.
By the time we’re finished with our second course—tea and cookies, for some reason unknown to me—the sun has wheeled overhead into the afternoon. Reya brushes the cookie crumbs from her hands and stands up from the edge of the bed. She retrieves her metal case and drums her fingernails on it, an impish light in her eyes.
“Buckle up. It’s time to make you look good.”
Every swipe of makeup makes me more nervous until, at the very end, Reya has to unhook my nails from the arms of the chair. “You’re good, sweet pea.” She steps back and surveys her work. “Zeus will be pleased.”
She goes to pull another dress out of the wardrobe and helps me step into it, fastening the zipper behind my back. This one at least reaches the floor, but I can tell from the air shifting in the room that it’s got a low back.
“Is that a good thing?” I swallow hard. “Why am I asking? It doesn’t matter what he thinks. I don’t even know why he wants me at this party.”
She laughs. “To show you off, obviously. You’re his new prize.”
Show me off. To the people at the party? It must be. It must be some scheme to prove to my mother that he’s brave. That he has something on her. That he’s not afraid to take his daughter and tell the world about it. His world, anyway. Why would he need to do that if he’s going to give me back to her? If they both use Hades, whatever that means, then maybe they also use each other. Suddenly the train comes back into focus. It runs from Hades’ mountain to my mother’s fields to the city. It’s a lifeline. It’s a knot, tied tight around the three of them. But knots can always be undone if you pull the right cord. Zeus is trying to tighten it.
That has to be his plan.
And if that’s his plan, then he might have a secondary plan along with it. He might be trying to...to reinforce my mother’s fears about what will happen if I’m allowed to be in the city. He wants to show her that her worst nightmare is real.
I have to get out of here.
The window isn’t an option, and when I try the door it doesn’t open. Please, I think wildly. Someone come get me. Someone come save me.
My prayer is answered a moment later. The door opens from the outside and Reya sweeps in, a minor goddess in a deep blue. How can she just unlock the door like that? Is it freedom she had to earn by pleasing Zeus? The thought sends another quake through me, through the floor, through the world. I do not want to go down to Zeus’s party.
It’s a bad idea. A very, very bad idea.
Reya doesn’t give me any choice. She hooks her arm through mine and pulls me along with her. We’re headed for the elevator. We’re headed for god knows what.
She pats at her hair and puts on a big smile. “Time to make our entrance.”
8
Persephone
There are other rooms.
Of course there are other rooms. Zeus is a king in his own castle, and a castle isn’t just a lounge and a pseudo-restaurant for prostitutes to woo their clients. He also owns a ballroom, which is where the gathering tonight is.
Zeus meets me at the entrance and takes me neatly from Reya’s arm. Everything seems too bright, too harsh. It’s just candlelight and sconces on the walls, along with some lit-up centerpieces at the tables ringing the room, but it seems like the blaze of high noon.
“Tonight’s a bit different,” Zeus murmurs into my ear. “I’ve brought guests.”
“You had guests last night.”
“You’re right, little Persephone. But tonight I’m hosting an event for some local policymakers.”
It’s impossible to tell which men are clients from last night and which men are local policymakers. They’re all wearing dark suits. Zeus must like a dress code. All of them look weak compared to Hades. All of them look small. But they outnumber me by far. And they must know...they must know what Zeus does here.
No wonder my mother was afraid of the city.
If the people in power support this business, then they don’t care what happens to me. Why would they? They’re here to have a good time. I might be here to give them one.
Zeus mingles his way through the crowd, shaking hands, pushing me forward at every opportunity. He doesn’t give my name but he lets everyone get a good look at my face. I never checked the mirror after Reya was done with me. I could look like anything. I’m hoping I don’t look like myself.
At the other side of the room a low dais looks down over all the revelers. Two antique chairs perch in the middle. Oh, god. Zeus really thinks he’s a king, doesn’t he? There have never been any consequences for him. He kidnapped me, and not a single person in this room will bat an eye. He can do anything. He can yank on the ties that bind him to my mother, toy with her, terrify her....
And he can do worse to me.
We take the seats.
A man dressed in simple slacks and a black shirt bends down low next to Zeus, a silver tray in his hands. Zeus lifts them with a nod and hands one to me.
I don’t want to drink it.
Whatever it is, I don’t want to drink it. My mind is trying to separate, to hide from whatever this situation will become, but my body knows the danger. My heart punches at the inside of my ribs. My vision sharpens, taking in hemlines and stubble and dappling on gowns.
The party moves around me, time slipping by. It gets louder. More raucous. Men appear at the edges of my vision, watching.
“Drink,” says Zeus, and his voice has taken on a sharp edge. His smile reminds me of predators in the dark wood. “Relax.”
Relax? For what? I lift the heavy glass to my lips automatically and take the tiniest sip. Zeus is still watching. I take another sip. It’s sweet. Light. The aftertaste is odd, but what is it? What is it?
“A sheltered girl like you could use some experience.” His voice is a low lie in my ear. “Look around. You could take your pick.”
This should scare me, shake me to the bone, but my heartbeat seems oddly slow. I don’t recognize this calm. I’m used to the cold wash of anxiety. This feels warm. Too warm.
“What are you talking about?” My tongue feels thick in my mouth. “I thought you didn’t want—didn’t want to return damaged goods.”
“Getting fucked once or twice isn’t damage. You can even get compensated for your time.”
More dark suits, more men. More shadows. None of them is the shadow I want. It’s hard to sit up straight. It’s hard to stay on the edge of my seat. Why is it so hard?
“Did you put something in my drink?” I can’t even muster up a glare for Zeus. I’m thinking of Hades, and I’m thinking of how many men there are and how there’s nothing between me and them. How Zeus could give me away with a wave of his hand. How he might do that. How it might be better for me if I just give in and let it happen. Let one of them take me upstairs. Let one of them—oh, god. My stomach twists, turns, but my body feels somehow distant and too close.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Zeus says mildly. “Nothing to harm you. Just a pinch of something to help you relax. Something to help you enjoy the party.”
No. What I need to do is get up and run. Get up. Run. I lift one arm off the chair. It only moves a few inches. I take a breath and summon more strength and swing my feet above the floor. That’s not running.
“See? You’re having more fun already. Now. There are quite a few men who have expressed interested in meeting you while you’re available. A couple of women, too, if you’d rather—”
<
br /> I don’t get to hear what I’d rather do because there’s a loud sound from the far end of the building. Down toward the lounge, toward the street. It beats back against itself until there are a thousand crashes all happening at once.
“Fuck.” Zeus stands up inhumanly fast, too fast for me to see. I shake my head and try to focus.
It’s chaos. A chaos of bright gowns and dark suits sprinting away from one another. Men in vests with guns weave through the crowd, scattering people. Guns? Vests? The police. I’ve only ever seen them from a distance. Back when I was in school, I saw—I saw people like this. Police mean something bad is happening. Something terrible is happening for Zeus, and I’m going to get caught in the crossfire. Handcuffs glint in the light. There are so many officers in what must be bulletproof vests. What goes on here that they think they need bulletproof vests? A fresh horror pinches and pulls at my skin but I can’t do anything about it.
And then, in the middle of everyone, I see him.
Hades.
Half a foot taller than anyone around him. Eyes black, depthless. The other men in here aren’t wearing suits, they’re wearing rags. Hades wears black as deep as his eyes. Every step he takes creates more space around him. The policemen pull away. Women flee. He’s not a charmer, like Zeus. He’s here for me.
I’m holding my breath. I only discover it when my lungs start to ache. The first rush of officers arrives. I’m useless next to them. Nothing. They surround Zeus and all talk over one another, or maybe it’s one of them talking with all the echoes of whatever was in that drink. I hear human trafficking and prostitution and right to remain silent.
They haul Zeus away, hands behind his back. Distantly, something shatters and cracks. Glass or something harder, or perhaps it’s whatever twisted tie remained between Zeus and his brother.
The man who is here for me.
The officers drag Zeus off the dais straight toward Hades. I thought the two of them couldn’t possibly be brothers, but as Zeus comes level with Hades he leans out, using the grip of the officers for leverage, and says something to Hades. Zeus’s charming grin remains in place. Hades answers him, jaw set, a casual fury on his face. Neither of them flinch or cower. They’re almost exactly the same height.