The Iron Queen (Daughters of Zeus)

by Kaitlin Bevis

  My voice shook as I held out the necklace. “Zeus will take the Underworld in exchange for—”

  I found myself on the ground, Hades’ hands wrapped around my throat. Agony spread from his fingertips as they dug into the sensitive skin around my neck, crushing my windpipe. Power pulsed from his hands, setting my entire body ablaze with pain. Beneath me the ground crackled and shriveled. Leaves turned dark with decay.

  I screamed, or tried to, but all that came out was a strangled yelp.

  “Let’s try that again. Where. Is. She?” His voice was dark and dangerous, and there was murder in his eyes.

  “With Zeus,” I squeaked. I couldn’t breathe. I pried at his hands, scratching against his iron fingers so hard my nails bent and broke. Hades didn’t budge.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.” Oh gods, it hurt.

  “But you can contact him?” He loosened his grip on my neck a fraction.

  “Can’t—” Coughing, I cleared my throat. My neck burned, and my voice sounded hoarse and scratchy. Pushing away from him to make space to breathe only farther entrenched my body in the damp dirt. Wet leaves clung to my legs, unbothered by my pathetic attempts to kick free. Oh, what’s the point? I went still beneath him when I realized there was no reason to struggle against someone so much stronger than me. As a goddess, I wasn’t weak. But that didn’t make me a match for Hades. “Sorry, I can’t help you find her.”

  “You’re sorry?” His jaw clenched so hard, I was surprised I didn’t hear his teeth shatter against the pressure. “When did he come to you? How long have you known Joel was Zeus, and why didn’t you warn her?”

  I shuddered at the memory of the day I met Joel. I’d thought he was human. Then he’d smiled at me, eyes flashing an unearthly blue I’d only ever seen once before—when I was created then abandoned to Poseidon’s realm. That was the day I’d learned I had to obey Zeus no matter what. The cruelty in those eyes forged my worst nightmares.

  “I didn’t know—”

  “Didn’t know what? That he would take her or hurt her, or that he was pretending to be Joel? What didn’t you know?” Hades drew back, electric blue eyes so full of rage I was blinded to everything else. In that moment, there was no difference between him and Zeus because their eyes were the same. “We warned you Zeus was dangerous. She fought to take you in after everyone else told her not to trust you. And after everything Persephone did for you, you pushed her toward him! Why?”

  “He’s our father!” My voice broke.

  “You honestly think he gives a damn about you?” Hades hauled me to my feet and shoved me down the path of damp packed earth where weak sunlight filtered through the trees, barely breaking through the clouds. “Fine, then let’s trade you for her. How loud do you think you’ll have to scream to get his attention?” Black energy sparked from his fingertips, dancing up his palm like lightning set on fire.

  I stumbled away from Hades, holding my hands out as if that would keep him at bay. “I’m not stupid!” I snapped. “If he cared about me at all, he wouldn’t leave me here with you.”

  Fury contorted Hades’ features. His dark hair stuck to his face in the rain, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Then why? What did he offer you that would make it worth betraying her?”

  “Nothing! He didn’t give me anything. I didn’t want to help him, but I didn’t have a choice. He’s my father!”

  “That doesn’t mean anything!”

  Normally it didn’t. Gods didn’t really do the whole family thing because we were created, not born, so there were no genetic ties. Good thing, too, given all the incest. Labels like brother, sister, mother, father, didn’t apply to us because that wasn’t how we thought of each other. Persephone was weird. She’d been raised to believe she was human. Demeter and Persephone had the most human-looking mother/daughter relationship of all the gods.

  Serious trust issues notwithstanding.

  Hades advanced on me, and I edged backward. My heel caught on a branch. and it snapped, twisting my foot out from under me. He darted forward. Screaming, I ducked my head away and thrust my hands toward him.

  “Don’t hurt me!”

  “Give me one reason I shouldn’t rip you limb from limb, you traitorous bitch.”

  I had thousands, but only one that would matter to him. “She wouldn’t want you to.”

  Hades stopped. “She was the only one of us who gave a damn about you.”

  “I know.” With a wary eye on him, I stood, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening. Not that Hades would ever feel threatened by me. He could crush me. And probably would before the day was through.

  “Then why did you help him?” Hades grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a rough shake. “Where is my wife?”

  “Shouldn’t you know?” They were married after all. Marriage between gods came with this whole power exchange thing, more mutually beneficial than fealty. They were supposed to be connected. You’d think that would come with a basic idea of each other’s whereabouts.

  Desperation danced across his face, and I suddenly understood. “You don’t, do you? Zeus did something to mess with your connection, and that’s how you got knocked out.”

  Hades worked a muscle in his jaw, and I knew I was right. No wonder he was freaking out.

  “She’s not dead,” I assured him. Technically, a god getting enough worship to exist can’t die, not even in combat, unless they’re fighting their own kids, but that’s a whole other story. Persephone hadn’t come into her powers yet, so she fell into a gray area. “I saw her with Zeus. He must need her, Hades. He won’t let her die. Otherwise, why bother taking her at all?”

  He could, of course, maim, torture, and otherwise torment her, but I didn’t think reminding Hades of that would do much good.

  “Where is she?” Hades’ voice was as tight as his grip. But he didn’t look like he wanted to kill me anymore, so that was a plus.

  “I don’t know. And I can’t help you find her. It’s not that I want to help him, I just don’t have a choice.”

  He stared at me for a minute, the words seeming to penetrate his rage. “Can’t,” he said finally. “Why not?”

  Gods can’t lie. So if a deity says they can’t do something, you better pay attention.

  “He’s my father.”

  I could almost see the pieces click into place in Hades’ head when shock, rage, and disgust flickered across his face in quick succession. It wasn’t directed at me. Zeus made me an abomination by creating me without an ounce of free will. Even the Titans gave their children that much.

  Hades let me go and stepped backward. “Can I trust you?”

  I shook my head. “But I wish you could.”

  He closed his eyes. His entire body looked tense, desperate to be in motion, but something stopped him. After a minute that seemed to stretch out for all eternity, he sighed. “All right. Let’s go tell Demeter.”

  “What good will that do?” I demanded, trying not to sound as hopeless as I felt. “He’s long gone from this realm. There’s no stopping him now that he has her. You know she’s going to break, and then he’ll have access to this realm and the Underworld.”

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  I jerked my head up. He couldn’t have just said that. Gods can’t lie but… “That’s not possible.”

  Hades opened his eyes and gave me a look so dark I got chills. “I’m well aware of the rules, Aphrodite. I was one of the six who decided which rules to keep and which ones to toss when we created these realms. It’s time for them to be rewritten.”

  I gulped. So long as he had a majority of the original six to push the new reality through, he could rewrite the rules of creation. All to save one girl. Demeter would side with him because she would be as desperate to save Persephone as he was, and Hades could easily coerce Hera and Hestia into doing his bidding. Their souls were at his mercy.

  But there was a balance. If he tipped it too far to one side…”You could unravel the world.
”

  He didn’t care. I could see that in his expression before the sentence even left my mouth. One of the most powerful deities in existence was an emotional wreck who wasn’t thinking clearly.

  For the first time, I realized how dangerous Persephone was. There’s a reason gods are so ambivalent about their children and that divine marriages are mostly political and not based on affection. Love is a human luxury. A being with the power to destroy everything with a word shouldn’t place more value in one individual than the entire world, but Persephone had that effect on people. Zeus looked at her and saw power he could gain. Demeter loved Persephone with all the fierceness a mother could muster, and Hades…Hades would break the world for her. She meant too much to too many people.

  I had to find another way to kill Zeus.

  And failing that—I hated myself for even thinking this—but remove her, and there was no threat. I’d have to kill Persephone.

  Chapter VI

  Persephone

  Zeus grinned. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

  Lashing out, I shoved him away from me and rolled out of bed, hitting the ground with a thud. I sprang to my feet. Pain washed over me, causing the room to swirl worse than a Van Gogh painting. Jaw clenched, I waited for the room to stop whipping around me, but when the room stopped spinning I discovered a whole new level of disorientation. There was no floor, no walls, no nothing. Through the trapped and hardened writhing gray mist beneath my feet, I could see a brilliant blue sky.

  Swallowing hard, I took in the transparent, cavernous ceilings with a blink, keeping one eye on Zeus. How high in the air was I? Sunlight streamed through the walls of mist bathing the room in a strange gray-tinted light. This wasn’t Olympus. The majestic mountain fell to the Underworld way before my time, but this place had the same feeling of awe-inspiring power.

  “Nice place, huh?” His voice was smug.

  Seriously? He’d hit me with lightning and taken me to…wherever the hell I was…and now he was fishing for a compliment? “Excessive. It is just you here, right?”

  “For now, though eventually it will be home to all the gods. New Olympus, if you will.” His hand stretched toward my face like he was going to touch my cheek or brush my hair out of my face or some other cliché skeevy-guy move. “You can stay here too if you give me what I want.”

  I smacked his hand away before he could touch me, unable to stomach the thought of Zeus ever putting his hands on me again. He looked hurt, of all things. He’s crazy, I realized. Completely certifiable, and I’m trapped here with him.

  “You don’t have to be like that.” Zeus kept moving closer, towering over me.

  I inched backward. He followed, breaching my personal space, and stared into my eyes with terrifying intensity. Air hissed between my teeth as I drew in a sharp breath. The fact that I was inches away from a guy who could turn me into a living lightning rod had nothing to do with my fear. There was something frightening in the raw power of his gaze. A darkness. It swirled in their blue depths like fire and ice and rage. Meeting his gaze was like looking into the edge of the night, staring into the heart of a storm, or peering into the center of a supernova. I couldn’t break away.

  I’d forgotten. Gods help me, I’d spent so much time with my mom and Hades I’d forgotten what kind of power I was dealing with. He was the god king, ancient and forever. Zeus.

  “We could have something, you and I.” He moved closer. If his grin were any indication, he was getting off on this cruel game of cat and mouse. “You’re not that bright, but you’ve got spirit.” Zeus inclined his head, sweeping over every inch of me in a lingering once-over. “I like that.”

  My back hit a wall, and I stifled a sob as he closed in on me. Zeus’ body crushed mine against the cold wall of swirling mist. When he cupped my face, brushing the tears from my cheeks, I flinched away from him.

  “This doesn’t have to end in blood.” His eyes locked to mine. Planting one hand beside me, Zeus allowed the other to travel down my arm, touch feather-light until he reached my hand and twined his fingers between mine. I faltered under the eternity of his gaze. I didn’t have a chance against him. This was the god who imprisoned the Titans, brought forth all of creation, stood in the center of the universe, and watched time turn. What was I against that? I was…

  I was…

  I was quoting Doctor Who.

  I broke free of his charm and shoved him off me. “Get out of my head.”

  Zeus slammed me into the wall, gripping the base of my neck with hands that crackled and sparked with electricity. My knee shot to his groin, but he sidestepped with ease. Electricity coursed through my veins.

  With a wail, I collapsed. The misty floor swirled and churned beneath me as though agitated by his rage. My hands pressed against the floor on either side of his worn running shoes. Joel’s shoes.

  “That’s more like it.” His fingers wrapped in my hair, and he yanked my head up. “Shall we try again?”

  I thought fast. “Xenia.”

  Zeus cocked his head, grip easing. “Xenia?”

  “It’s hospitality in Greek—”

  “I know what it means,” Zeus snapped. “But why are you bringing it up?”

  “Showing kindness and hospitality to strangers from another land was so ingrained in Greek culture that even kings took in travelers off the street. The myths say you promised to always honor that code.” Gods can’t lie. It was a long shot, but anything was worth a try at this point.

  Zeus snorted. His gold hair fell into his face, and he brushed it back in a gesture so reminiscent of Hades it hurt. “Daughters aren’t guests. They’re property.”

  I lifted my chin. “I am not your property.”

  “Oh, you’re adorable.” Zeus flicked his fingers, and a bolt of lightning shot down from the ceiling.

  My screams ricocheted off the walls. He dragged me to my feet, a maniac gleam flashing in his eyes. “Swear fealty.”

  I gasped for breath, tears sizzling down my cheeks as my flesh began to heal. Trembling, I shook my head. The small motion almost knocked me out it hurt so badly.

  Zeus steadied me. “Oh sweetheart,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  When I heard the crackle of electricity going live in his hands, I squeezed my eyes shut. The lightning struck me again, and again, and again.

  Chapter VII

  Aphrodite

  “What do you mean Zeus has her?” Demeter’s eyes blazed so bright with fury it was amazing the small bridge Hades and I stood on didn’t disintegrate. “You told me you’d keep her in the Underworld where she’d be safe.”

  The wooden bridge didn’t feel like much protection against the angry goddess. I’d thought Hades was paranoid when he recommended we find neutral ground to break the news to Demeter that her daughter had been abducted. I was wrong. There wasn’t much water beneath us, but with the air all around us, the lake below, and the earth on either side, we were in as neutral a territory as we could find outside of dreamscapes.

  Demeter’s gaze fell on me. “And what is she doing here?”

  Hades stepped in front of me before Demeter could do any damage. “We were wrong. Joel was Zeus—”

  “Joel is Zeus? What?”

  Hades backtracked, bringing Demeter up to speed. “…and when he created Aphrodite, he programmed her to follow orders.” He shot me an apologetic glance that almost canceled out the lingering rage on his face. Almost.

  “Not just his,” I interjected. “I’m loyal to all of my family to some degree, but I have to obey any family who outrank me. Including Persephone.”

  Hades’ eyebrows shot up. “Persephone wouldn’t control you.”

  “Uh, have you ever met your wife? She’s bossy and—” I glanced between Hades and Demeter and cleared my throat. “Gosh, she’s just a wonderful person. I’m sure she would have toned down the orders had she known I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “J
oel is Zeus?” Demeter’s shocked voice pulled the conversation back to its focus. I waited for Hades to make some sarcastic comment about Demeter not paying attention, but he remained silent. Allowing her time to process the news, maybe? She didn’t need it. “What else were you ordered to do?”

  I squirmed under her piercing green eyes. She looked like a taller version of Persephone with the same blonde hair, same tan, same build. But she had a coldness Persephone lacked. Something in her expression told me she would not only throw me to the wolves, but she’d watch them rip me apart with a smile on her face.

  My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard. “Nothing yet. But if I were you, I’d keep me supervised by someone who can’t be charmed.”

  Demeter’s hands shook. She took a deep breath, clenched her fists so tight her knuckles whitened, and glared at Hades. “This”—the venom in her voice had me edging backward—“is your fault.”

  “I’m aware of that.e di Hades’ voice was flat, void of any emotion.

  Demeter didn’t care. “You brought that thing to my realm and put it under my roof with my daughter, and then you let Zeus—”

  Let Zeus? I thought of Hades’ crumpled body on the ground, the anguish in his eyes when he’d woken up and discovered her gone. She made it sound like he’d just handed Persephone over. My nails drummed on the wooden railing, and I looked over the glistening water. Somewhere between here and the path it had stopped raining, and the sun had emerged. Maybe it was a sign everything would be okay.

  “I did not let him take her,” Hades snapped. “If you weren’t so stingy with your teleportation authorization, I’d have been able to get to her—”

  Or maybe not. I glanced from Hades to Demeter, two of the oldest remaining gods in creation. Surely they could come up with a plan.

  Well, a good plan. Hades hadn’t mentioned anything about his whole “rewriting the rules” idea yet.

  Demeter gasped. “Are you suggesting this is somehow my fault? You made her a target when you forced her to marry you—”