A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone Book 2)

by Scarlett St. Clair

  She liked to think she knew a different Hades, and that the way he coaxed her to orgasm was different than how he’d treated others.

  She felt ridiculous as these thoughts rolled through her head. Perhaps whatever magic had overcome her on the dance floor was still clinging to her aura.

  As she hid there in the darkness, the crowd pulsing on the dance floor in front of her, something was suddenly thrust in her closed fist. The feeling was strange and sudden—magic, she realized as she opened her hand, and found a piece of paper. Unfolding it, there was a number written in ink. 777. Below the number was an arrow, as if directing her to walk down the hallway.

  She looked around and saw nothing but felt as if the whole room were watching her, even as she lurked in the darkness. Peeling away from the wall, she followed the arrow down the dark hall and happened upon an elevator, only visible because the numbers and doors were alight in red.

  She pressed the button and the elevator opened soundlessly.

  Inside, she noted the floors only went up to eight. She assumed that she needed the seventh floor and that the number on the paper was a room.

  After the roar on the dance floor, the silence in the elevator pushed against her ears. It unsettled her and left her to focus on what was ahead—the unknown. What if Leuce was wrong about the Magi? What if they wanted something she couldn’t give? What if they couldn’t help her?

  When the elevator doors opened, she was let out into a hallway that led straight to a black door. She approached hesitantly, fear warring with the guilt in her mind. Finally, she knocked and a voice on the other side directed her to come inside.

  The handle was cold and made her skin prick as she entered. The room was dim and had black marble floors and dark walls. The only source of light came from the center of the room. It illuminated a raised, round platform and a large, plush chair upon which a familiar man was seated.

  He was Kal Stavros.

  He looked exactly like his pictures in the tabloids. He had a perfect, square face, a swath of thick, black hair, and blue eyes.

  She hated his face.

  Persephone narrowed her eyes, fingers tightening into fists. The surge of anger she felt at seeing this man was acute. It drove her magic wild.

  “Persephone,” Kal purred.

  Was it possible to reach into his mouth and yank her name from it? Persephone thought.

  “I hope Alec and Cy didn’t frighten you, but I had to be sure it was you.”

  So those men from the dance floor worked for him.

  "I can see why Hades is taken with you," he said, his eyes trailed her body, making her feel sick to her stomach. “Beauty and spirit, well-spoken and opinionated. Qualities I admire.”

  “Don’t make me vomit,” she said. “Just tell me what you want.”

  He chuckled. It was villainous—a sound contrary to his beauty.

  “I’m so glad you asked,” he said. “But you first—what brings you to Iniquity, the heart of sin?”

  She hesitated. What was she still doing in this room? She turned to leave, but instead of finding the door she had entered, she faced a wall of mirrors.

  “Going somewhere?”

  She twisted toward him.

  “Are you holding me prisoner?”

  “These are the rules of Iniquity. Once you enter the chamber of a dealer, you don’t leave until a bargain is struck.”

  That isn’t what Leuce had said.

  “What if I don’t want to bargain with you?”

  “You don’t know what I’m offering.”

  “If it isn’t a way out of this room, I don’t want it.”

  “Even if it means saving your friend?”

  Silence followed his question, and Persephone swallowed. “What do you know about that?”

  Kal smiled, and it made the words that came out of his mouth next more callous. “I know she will die unless you can find a way to heal her.”

  “She isn’t dying,” Persephone said through her teeth. It wasn’t true—it couldn’t be. Neither Hades or Sybil had said so…and wouldn’t they say so?

  “That is not what I see.”

  Persephone shifted slightly on her feet. She was uncomfortable in this dark room, closed up with a man who had already bargained with her—an exclusive in exchange for her job.

  “Why should I trust you?”

  “Because deep down, you know I’m right. If you thought Lexa was going to live, would you have come?”

  She hated him.

  “What do you want?”

  He showed his teeth when he smiled this time.

  “I have a deal for you. I’ll give you the spell you need to heal your friend if you give me everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “I want every detail of your relationship with Hades. I want to know how you met him, when he first kissed you, and all the scandalous details from the first time he fucked you.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “I’m a businessman, Persephone. Sex sells,” he sat back in the chair. “Sex with gods sells better, and you, my sweet—you’re a goldmine.”

  “I’m not the only one who’s slept with Hades.” She hated that she said the words at all, but it was true.

  “But you’re the first he’s committed to and that’s worth more than the words of a fuck buddy. He’s invested in you which means he’ll do anything to protect you and the details of your private life.”

  Persephone suddenly understood. “You want to blackmail Hades?”

  “Well, he is the Rich One.”

  “But you’re rich,” Persephone argued.

  “Not like him,” Kal said. “But that’s what you’re going to help me with, and in exchange, you get to save your friend from certain death.”

  As Kal was speaking, Persephone noticed something black glimmering at the man’s feet—snakes. They wound their way around his feet and his wrists. Kal only noticed when the serpents scaly body curled over his neck. He screamed, but froze when the creatures tightened their hold, hissing near his ear.

  Hades materialized out of the darkness, surprising Persephone. She hadn’t felt him at all.

  His voice sounded calm and collected, but she felt his rage.

  “Are you threatening me, Kal?” he asked.

  “No…never!” The pitch of Kal’s voice changed, rising with his fear.

  Persephone turned to look at Hades. He was angry—it was present in his eyes and the press of his lips against hers as he bent to kiss her. His tongue demanded entrance, twining with her own. One of his hands cupped her neck and chin, the other knotting into her hair, tightening around the strands. He forced her mouth open wider, lapping at the back of her throat. When he pulled away, it was with her bottom lip between his teeth.

  “Are you well?” His voice was rough.

  She nodded, dazed.

  Hades turned his attention to Kal and stalked toward him. The mortal began defending himself, still frozen beneath the white light. His hands dug into the arms of the chair, his body rigid as the snakes hissed and slithered over his body.

  “I-I was following your rules! She summoned me!”

  “My rules? Are you insinuating I would approve of a contract between you and my lover?”

  “That would be making an exception,” Kal replied. “There are no exceptions in Iniquity.”

  “Let me be clear,” Hades said, and black spikes sprouted from his fingertips. He grasped Kal’s face. The man cried out as blood bubbled beneath the spears digging into his skin. “Anyone who belongs to me is an exception to the rules of this club.”

  Hades lifted Kal out of the chair and tossed him to the ground. He landed with a loud thud, and the snakes went with him. They lashed out, their fangs sinking deep into his skin. Kal screamed and Persephone watched, unflinching, as the man who had threatened her was tortured by her lover.

  “You bastard!” he groaned, lying in a fetal position, his hands shook as he attempted to cover his wounds.

  “C
areful, mortal,” Hades moved like smoke and came to stand beside Kal.

  “I followed the rules,” the man groaned. “I followed your rules.”

  Persephone looked at Hades’ face—it was shadowed, his cheekbones, eyes, and forehead alight.

  “I know the rules well, mortal. You don’t fuck with me or my lover, understand?”

  Kal rolled onto his hands and knees. He struggled to lift his head, but when he did, he met Persephone’s gaze.

  “Help me,” he shouted.

  “Do not speak to her, mortal.”

  Hades placed his boot against the man’s side and pushed him to the ground. He landed on one of the snakes, who retaliated by biting into his flesh again. Kal screamed.

  Persephone didn’t even flinch.

  What was wrong with her? She should stop this. Except that a part of her believed Kal actually deserved it.

  Hades turned to Persephone. She met his gaze, unable to discern his thoughts from his expression.

  “Shall I continue to punish him?” Hades asked.

  Persephone stared at Hades and her eyes dropped to Kal. She strolled toward him and knelt. His bloodied face was now streaked with tears.

  “Will his face scar?” she asked Hades.

  “It will if you wish it.”

  “I wish it.”

  Kal whined.

  “Shh,” Persephone crooned. “It could be worse. I am tempted to send you to Tartarus.”

  He quieted at her statement and then she continued. “Tomorrow, I want you to call Demetri and tell him you made a mistake. You don’t want the exclusive and you will never, ever tell me what to write again. Do we have an agreement?”

  Shaking, he nodded his head. Persephone smiled. “Good.”

  She straightened and turned to Hades. “He can live,” she said.

  The god held her gaze for a long moment and then looked at Kal.

  “Leave.”

  In the next second, the man and the snakes were gone, and Persephone was left alone with Hades. Despite their distance, anger built between them like a solid, stone wall.

  Before he could say anything, she spoke.

  “You ruined everything!”

  He looked startled, and then quickly took up the defense, moving toward her.

  “I ruined everything? I saved you from making a huge mistake. What were you thinking coming here?”

  “I was trying to save my friend, and Kal was offering a way to do that, unlike you.”

  “You would give up our private life—something you cherish most—in exchange for something that will only condemn your friend?”

  “Condemn her? It will save her life! You bastard. You told me to have hope! You said she could survive.”

  They were nose-to-nose now. “You don’t trust me?”

  “No! No, I don’t trust you. Not when it comes to Lexa. And what about this place, Hades? This is your club, isn’t it? What the fuck?”

  Hades reached for her, clasping her shoulders, he drew her flush against him.

  “You were never to come here. This place isn’t for you.”

  Persephone flinched.

  “Leuce works here,” Persephone snapped.

  “Because it’s Leuce,” Hades said, as if that explained everything. “You told me to give her job back, so I sent her here. You…you’re…different.”

  She pushed away from him. “Different?”

  “I thought we established this,” Hades said through his teeth. “You mean more to me than anyone—anything.”

  “What does that have to do with keeping this place from me?”

  Hades was silent.

  “Everything here is illegal, isn’t it? The Magi are here. What else?”

  Hades tried to remain silent again.

  “What else, Hades?” she demanded.

  “Everything you’ve ever feared,” he answered, and she shivered. “Assassins, drug lords….”

  Persephone felt the color drain from her face.

  “Why?”

  “I created a world where I could watch them.”

  “Watch them do what? Break the law? Hurt people?”

  “Yes,” he answered, his voice was gritty.

  “Yes? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

  “For now,” he said, his voice tightened, and his chest rose and fell with his anger, but instead of leaving, he moved toward her. She held her ground, unafraid. Lifting her chin and glaring at him.

  “Who brought you here?” he asked.

  “A taxi.”

  “You think I won’t find out?”

  “I have free will. I chose to come here of my own accord.”

  “A choice that cannot go unpunished,” he said, and reached for her.

  Instinctually, Persephone pushed his hands away. His eyes gleamed. “Are you telling me no?”

  She knew if she said no, he would stop, but she couldn't deny she wanted to see his punishment through. It would mean intense pleasure and it would be angry and rough and primal, and she needed release.

  She shook her head once, and then Hades spun her around to face the mirrored wall. She used it for support as he bent her forward and watched him in the reflection. He nudged her legs apart and lifted her skirt, eyes hungry.

  His hand brushed across her skin, and then he swatted her ass. She yelped, more from surprise than pain, and Hades glanced up, meeting her gaze in the mirror before drawing her underwear to her ankles, and helping her step out of them. Her core tightened in anticipation as he shoved them in his pocket.

  She gasped when his hand dipped between her thighs, her back arched as his fingers teased. She was molten for him—she didn’t even need the foreplay.

  Hades inhale was a hiss. “So fucking wet. How long have you been like this?”

  A moan stuck in her throat as she answered.

  “Since I got here,” she said. “I wanted you on the dance floor. I willed you to manifest from the dark, but you weren’t there.”

  “I’m here now,” he said, and bent to kiss her shoulder, down her back, and then her bottom all the while his finger curled, going deeper while his other hand worked her clit in soft, aching circles. She could barely breathe, focusing on the feel of him inside her, mindless with need.

  “Hades,” she begged. “Please.”

  He withdrew and Persephone gave a frustrated cry. She started to twist toward him. She felt rabid. She needed release and if he would not offer it, she would chase it herself.

  But Hades’ hands clamped down on her hips.

  “Stay,” he commanded, and she glared at him in the mirror.

  He offered a devilish smirk. “It wouldn’t be punishment if I gave you what you wanted when you demand it.”

  She stuck her chin out and said, “Don’t pretend you don’t want me.”

  “Oh, I’m not pretending,” he said as he unzipped his trousers, took out his cock, and entered her from behind. Persephone’s breath caught in her throat. Was it possible Hades was somehow thicker? She took him in one, quick thrust, a guttural sound escaped her throat as he pumped into her.

  At first it was like Hades wasn’t sure what to touch—his hands clasped her breasts, her stomach, her hips. Then he wrapped a fistful of her long hair around his hand like a bandage and pulled her head back so he could kiss her mouth. When he released her, his thrusts became languid and she felt him in the bottom of her stomach.

  “This is for us,” he said. “You will share this with no one else.”

  All Persephone could manage was a breathy whine. She felt the intensity of his words like she felt the rawness of his sex inside her. His arm cut into her stomach as he held her in place, and her nails dug into his skin.

  “Some things are sacred to me,” Hades’ breath grew ragged, but he kept speaking, his words interlaced with Persephone’s moans. “This is sacred to me. You are sacred to me. Do you understand?”

  Persephone nodded, sweat beading on her forehead and her brows drew together in a hard line. She w
as barely holding onto her sanity.

  “Say it,” he ordered. “Say you understand.”

  “Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes, gods-dammit. I understand! Make me come, Hades!”

  The god spun her around to face him and kissed her, pressing her into the mirror, savoring her mouth before lifting her and entering her again.

  Persephone groaned, fingers twining into his hair, and when he pulled away, his eyes glittered.

  “I have never loved anyone as I love you.” He spoke like he was confessing. “I can’t put it into words—there are none that come close to expressing how I feel.”

  Persephone tightened her hold on him, bending toward his lips.

  “Then don’t use words,” she said.

  Their lips collided and they slid to the floor. Persephone’s knees were bent, pressing into the hard marble floor as she straddled Hades, but she didn’t even notice, too focused on the pleasure building inside her. She twined her fingers with Hades, and guided his arms over his head, rocking against him.

  “Fuck,” Hades cursed, breaking her hold. He gripped her hips and helped her move faster, harder. Their eyes held until the pleasure became too much. Persephone’s head lulled back as she came, and Hades followed soon after.

  Persephone collapsed onto his chest, breathless and sated, comforted by the feel of Hades’ arms around her. They didn’t speak for a long time—not until their breathing had evened and their hearts had stopped racing.

  Hades broke the silence.

  “Marry me.”

  Persephone sat back. Hades was still hard inside her, and the movement made eyes glittering like coals.

  “What?”

  There was no way she heard him correctly.

  “Marry me, Persephone. Be my queen. Say you’ll stand by my side...forever.”

  He was serious and she was...confused. Not about her love for Hades—but so many other things.

  “Hades...I....” she couldn’t figure out what to say. “You were just angry with me.”

  He shrugged. “And now I am not.”

  “And you want to marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  She stood, stumbling back as her legs struggled to hold her up. Hades held out his hands to help steady her, but she refused them.

  “I can’t marry you, Hades,” she answered, her eyes were welling with tears. “I…I don’t know you.”