“It’s not about needing,” Leuce said. “It’s for fun.”
“You go ahead,” she encouraged. “I am content to sit here and drink.”
Leuce frowned a little but disappeared into the changing room.
Persephone really wished Lexa were here. This was her thing. When they’d first met in college, Lexa had taken her to this very boutique. They’d laughed and tried on dresses and drank sparkling grape juice. It was the first time she’d been told her ‘colors’ were red, gold and green, the first time someone other than her mother had told she was beautiful, the first time she felt that someone meant it.
It had been a blissful day.
Persephone’s memories were interrupted by her phone ringing. It was Jaison.
She answered, her heart racing in her chest.
“Is everything okay?” She didn’t even say hello.
“Yes, Persephone. I wanted to let you know that Lexa just came out of surgery.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Because everything’s fine.”
How could everything be fine when Lexa had to go into surgery? Persephone couldn’t help thinking Jaison had done this on purposes because of her inability to convince Hades to help.
“What if everything hadn’t been fine?”
“This is why I didn’t tell you earlier.” His frustration was evident in his tone. “You freak out and it makes everything worse.”
Okay, those words hurt.
“She had some internal bleeding. They caught it in time and now she’s stable and back in the ICU.”
“I freak out? Excuse me for being concerned for my best friend, Jaison.”
“Yeah, well, she’s my girlfriend.”
The line went dead, and Persephone pulled her phone away from her ear to find that Jaison had hung up on her.
What the actual fuck was happening?
Suddenly, she couldn’t breath and her heart felt like it was beating in her head, irregular and quick. She looked around, vision blurred, and the only thing she could think was that she was dying.
She rushed from the store.
She heard her name being called as she left.
“Lady Persephone!”
She ran down the sidewalk and stopped in an alleyway. She pressed herself against the brick and leaned over, taking deep breaths.
“Lady Persephone? Are you okay?”
Leuce had followed her as she’d fled. It took Persephone a moment, but she finally straightened. Her chest rising and falling. “Is it okay if we don’t shop?”
Leuce’s eyes were large—strangely innocent, and she nodded. “Of course. Whatever you want.”
“Coffee,” Persephone said.
“Sure.”
They went to The Coffee House. It was the one place Persephone felt she could still go and not be bothered. She ordered two vanilla lattes—one for her and one for Leuce, who had never had coffee before.
They sat across from each other. Persephone kept her hands cupped around her drink, watching as the foam leaf atop melted into nothing.
“How do they make this picture?” Leuce asked, inspecting the foam like a rare specimen.
“Very carefully,” Persephone responded.
The nymph took a tentative sip.
“Hmm,” she hummed, and took a bigger gulp. Persephone recalled the first time she’d had coffee. She hadn’t actually liked it all that much, but Lexa had claimed that was because she’d had black coffee.
She’d been right—add a little cream, and it was her favorite drink.
“Just wait until you try hot chocolate,” Persephone commented.
Leuce’s eyes went wide.
Silence stretched between them. Persephone kept her gaze on her drink. She wasn’t sure what to say to Leuce, and her body felt off. Her earlier panic making her insides feel shaky.
“Do you want to talk about earlier?” Leuce asked.
Persephone met the woman’s gaze and shook her head. “I’d rather not.”
The nymph nodded.
“I’m sorry your friend is sick.”
“She’s not sick,” Persephone didn’t mean to snap, but the words just spilled out of her mouth. Plus, she was still a little freaked out about earlier. “She’s hurt. She was hurt.”
“I’m sorry,” Leuce’s voice was a whisper.
Persephone’s shoulders fell. “Thank you. I’m sorry. It’s...hard.”
Leuce nodded. “I know.”
Persephone met her gaze and the nymph explained.
“I woke up a few days ago and everything I knew had changed. Most of my friends are dead,” the nymph paused. “I was angry at first. I think I still am.”
Persephone wasn’t sure what to say, but she was sincere. Now that she had distance from the situation, now that her anger toward Hades’ had lessened, she could think from Leuce’s point of view.
“I’m sorry, Leuce.”
She shrugged. “At least I am free.”
It was strange to sit across from this woman and realize how similar they really were.
“Were you...conscious while you were imprisoned?”
“No,” she said. “I think that might have been worse. Perhaps it was a mercy.”
Persephone bit her lip. They were talking about Hades, but indirectly.
“I don’t...blame him for his anger,” she said. “I antagonized him. It was not a good relationship. It wasn’t what you have.”
“How do you know what I have?” Persephone asked.
“You have love,” she answered. “He loves you.”
Persephone looked away. She didn’t really want to talk about Hades with his ex-lover. Leuce seemed to sense this and change the subject.
“Your friend, is she recovering well?”
Persephone wasn’t sure how to answer that—she was really just staying the same. She shook her head. “I just wish I could heal her.”
Leuce was quiet for a moment, and then she answered, “I think I can help.”
Persephone met the nymph’s gaze and she leaned forward to whisper. “Have you heard of the Magi?”
She had. They were mortal practitioners of dark magic. She didn’t know much about them, aside from the fact that Hecate often had to clean up after their spells.
Leuce offered a small smile. “I can tell you have. What have you heard?”
“Nothing good,” she answered.
“They aren’t,” Leuce said. “That is something that hasn’t changed since ancient times, but some—the ones that are good at their job—can craft some powerful spells.”
“What kind?”
“Any kind—love spells, death spells, healing spells.”
“That is illegal magic.”
It was illegal because it went against the gods. Love spells were Aphrodite’s territory, death, Hades, and healing, Apollo’s.
“Illegal yes, but many would prefer owing a mortal than a god. I’m not saying you have to accept a contract with a Magi, but...I can get you into the same club as them. If you draw their attention, you get an audience with them.”
“And how do they know I want an audience?”
“Because no one goes there unless they want something. Here,” Leuce said, pulling a card from her pocket and handing it to her. It was black. A name was embossed on the surface.
She read it aloud.
“Iniquity?”
“The club is true to its name. It’s a den of wickedness and sin. It isn’t a place for you.”
Persephone’s offered a small, humorless smile.
“You don’t know me very well if you believe that.”
“Maybe not, but I do know Hades would turn me back into a tree if he knew I was telling you about it, but...it might be the only way to save your friend unless you want to make a deal with Apollo.”
That was a huge no.
“How soon can you get me in?”
“Tomorrow, if you like.”
Persephone tapped the card again
st her palm.
“Hades will be angry if he finds out.”
Leuce smirked. “He always finds out.”
“I will protect you,” she answered.
“I’m not worried about me,” Leuce said. “Who will protect you?”
“From Hades?” She was surprised by the question but knew the answer. There was no protecting herself from her lover. The air between them was raw. Even if she had wanted to, there was nothing she could do against the God of the Dead.
“I no longer have protection against Hades.”
CHAPTER XIV - INIQUITY
Persephone needed to be at Iniquity at midnight.
Earlier in the day, she’d told Hades she was going stay at her apartment to be with Sybil. Instead, she spent the evening getting ready.
Her dress was revealing to say the least, and she wondered what Hades would say if he saw it. It featured a crisscross mesh top with a high neckline, long sleeves, and a short, black skirt. She paired it with a black bralette and strappy heels.
“You look stunning,” Sybil said. She stood in Persephone’s doorway in her pajamas—a blue shirt and grey shorts.
“Thanks.”
“You don’t look excited to be going out.”
“It isn’t for fun.”
Sybil nodded. “Do you have to go?”
“I think so,” she met Sybil’s gaze. “Is there anything I should know?”
She wasn’t completely sure how Sybil’s powers worked, but she liked to think if she was walking into anything dangerous, Sybil would let her know, but the oracle shook her head.
Instead, she pushed away from the doorframe and said, “I’ll call you a taxi.”
Sybil disappeared.
Persephone looked at her reflection again. She almost didn’t recognize the person staring back. She was different—changed.
It’s darkness, she thought.
But it wasn’t Hades who had coaxed it to the surface.
It was Lexa’s pain that had unleashed it.
Sybil returned. “Taxi’s here.”
“Thanks,” Persephone said. She took a deep breath, feeling as though she couldn’t quite breathe deep enough. She collected her clutch and phone, and when she turned to leave, she found Sybil still standing in the doorway, watching her.
“Hades doesn’t know where you’re going, does he?”
Persephone opened her mouth and then closed it. There was no need to answer, Sybil already knew. So instead she said, “It isn’t like he can’t find me.”
The oracle nodded. “Just…be careful, Persephone. I know you want to save Lexa, but what will you destroy to get there?”
Those words shivered down her spine. She didn’t like what they implied. All Persephone wanted was for everything to go back to the way it was before Lexa’s accident.
“I thought you said there was nothing I needed to know.”
The oracle gave a wry smile. “You don’t make promises and oracles speak in riddles.”
Fair.
Persephone had learned a lot about oracles from Sybil. They might hear prophecies, but they heard them the way they said them. How it was interpreted was up to the one who received it.
Persephone chose to interpret this as—there’s no other way, and so she left for Iniquity.
She tamped down the anxiety that flared in her stomach when she told the driver her destination. He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. The name clearly made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded and took off into the night.
Persephone settled into the backseat and checked her phone.
It was a habit because she used to talk to Lexa all the time, but there were no new messages—none from Lexa, no updates from Jaison or Lexa’s mother, nothing.
She spent the ride reading through previous text messages from Lexa and by the time the cab stopped, her eyes were watery and her throat thick with tears. The emotion was motivating. It made it easier to swallow her guilt and look out the window.
The car had stopped in front of a plain, brick building. The name was nowhere to be found on the exterior.
She hesitated before exiting.
“Is this...the right place?” she asked.
“You said Iniquity, right?” the driver asked, he pointed to the building. “That’s it.”
She left the cab and stood outside alone, unnerved by the quiet. She had expected a crowd similar to Nevernight even though Leuce had made it clear Iniquity was different. It was invitation-only—exclusive to the underbelly of society. She shivered and started down the alleyway. The taxi driver had dropped her off at the front of the building, but Leuce had been clear in her instructions: the entrance is in the back, down the stairs, knock once.
She headed down a dimly lit alleyway and found the door. She did as she was instructed and a slot in the door opened. She jumped but couldn’t see anything through the opening. It took her a moment to remember her password.
“Parabasis,” she said.
The word shivered through her whole body, its meaning shaking her foundation.
To intentionally cross a line.
She knew that’s what she was doing, but she had to try.
Lexa needed her—she needed Lexa.
Whoever was on the other side of the door closed the slot and opened the door. Hesitantly, she entered the club. Like Nevernight, she stepped into complete darkness. Whoever occupied the space with her was not visible, but she felt them.
They said nothing, just moved past her. After a brief moment, a set of curtains opened ahead of her, and she was let into an unfamiliar world colored in red, full of gems and feathers and burning lights. The floor of the club was packed with people. A stage towered over the crowd, framed with crimson curtains and blazing bulbs. Women danced there, dressed in shimmering bras, fishnet stockings, and enormous headpieces. They were glamorous, synchronized, and erotic, swaying to sensual music.
Persephone stood frozen, entranced.
The air around her was hot, heavy, and scented with vanilla. She inhaled it, and it filled her veins like her magic, shivering through her body, heating her skin. She rolled her neck and shoulders, loosening tense muscles, relaxing into the music. The part of her mind that told her to be on edge was fading.
A hand slipped into hers and she twisted to find Leuce standing behind her. She didn’t speak, just pulled Persephone along the back wall into a darkened hallway.
“This place—” Persephone breathed.
“Is meant to ensnare, Persephone,” Leuce placed her hands on either side of the goddess’s face. “Keep your wits about you and focus on your task. The air here is toxic. It will draw you in, a current you can’t escape.”
“That would have been great information to have before I got here,” she said, a little irritated.
The nymph smiled. “There’s nothing I could have done to prepare you. You are either strong-willed or not. It’s how they will choose you.”
Persephone focused on the nymph. Her ice-white eyes were intense. It was then she noted how the girl was dressed. Her white hair was curled and styled. She wore bright red lipstick, and her outfit was a short silver tassel dress that shimmered like all the stars in the sky. She looked like one of the dancers on stage.
“You work here?”
Again, it was information she would have liked to have before arriving here, but Leuce didn’t seem to think it was important.
“Focus on your task, Persephone. You wanted this, remember?”
That almost sounded like a threat.
She glared at the woman, eyes flashing. She suddenly wished to remind Leuce of who she really was.
“Then tell me what to do. How do I ensure they see me?”
“You dance,” Leuce answered. “If they’re interested, they’ll come to you.”
Persephone glanced over her shoulder where hundreds of people were crammed together on the floor.
“Are you telling me all these people are here for the same thing?”
“Not the same thing,” she said. “But they’re here because they want something.”
“Leuce, what else goes on here other than illegal magic?”
“That’s not a conversation you want to have, Persephone. Trust me.”
She was gone then, and Persephone was swallowed by the crowd. For a few seconds, it was like fighting a current, graceless and panicked, but like earlier, she found there was something bewitching about the music. It seemed to dance along her skin, seep through her pours, until she moved with the beat, rocking her hips and raising her arms over her head. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and images of sensual nights with Hades reeled through her head—his soft mouth on hers, his silken tongue lapping at sensitive skin, his body glistening and hot, his cock filling, stretching, demanding. Her breath was short, and a moan escaped from her mouth.
She felt rabid, starved, desperate.
It got worse.
Her memories were suddenly infiltrated by another face—it wasn’t her body beneath Hades’—it was Leuce, her back was arched, her head thrown back, her mouth open as she screamed her lover’s name.
It was enough to break the spell the music had cast upon Persephone. Suddenly, she was aware of her surroundings again—the bodies crowded her, their sweat-soaked skin brushing hers.
Hands gripped her hips and a body moved behind her. She turned to face a man dressed in dark clothing, and in the red light, his eyes were black. At first, she wondered if he was here to summon her, but his hand remained fastened on her hips. She pushed him back, intending to break contact with him, when another set of hands clasped her shoulders.
Persephone wrenched from his grip, her heart raced, her magic igniting in her blood, but as she turned to look at the other person who had touched her, both men disappeared into the crowd.
Unnerved, she pushed through the mass of people until she reached the outer edge of the dance floor. She sought darkness, wishing to become shadow, and she found it as she rested against a wall at the mouth of a hallway.
Her body still shook from the memories she’d recalled on the dance floor. She was both aroused and pissed. What sort of horrible magic encouraged such salacious thoughts? And why had they morphed into something that made her want to vomit? She didn’t want to think of Leuce and Hades together. She didn’t want to think that what they had in common was that they both knew Hades’ body so well.
A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone Book 2) Page 17