A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone Book 2)

by Scarlett St. Clair

  She was afraid.

  Afraid she would somehow disappoint them like she had disappointed her mother, like she had disappointed Hades.

  She took a deep breath, forcing down the emotion thick within her throat and pretended like everything was fine. She helped finalize decisions for the solstice celebration, tasted samplings of various meals, approved decor, and played with the children before returning to the Upperworld.

  When she arrived home, she broke down.

  Sybil didn’t ask any questions, more than likely, she had already guessed what had happened. The oracle just held her as she cried herself to sleep.

  Before work the next day, Persephone stopped by the hospital only to find that Lexa was asleep.

  “She woke up briefly,” Eliska said. “But she was very confused. The doctor gave her a sedative.”

  “Confused?”

  Persephone’s anxiety spiked, making her stomach feel sick.

  “They think it’s temporary psychosis,” she explained. “It isn’t unusual for patients who have been in the ICU.”

  Psychosis. Temporary.

  Her relief was immediate. It was probably too much to expect that Lexa would bounce back. Still, Persephone had let her hopes rise. She’d thought that Divine magic would work differently from traditional medicine. That when Apollo talked about miracles, it would mean skipping the recovery, too.

  “Persephone, are you alright?” Eliska asked.

  The goddess met the mortal’s gaze and nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Will you...text me when Lexa wakes up?”

  “Of course, dear,” she paused, studying her. Whatever Eliska was seeing in Persephone’s expression had her suspicious because she asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  No, Persephone thought. My whole world is falling apart.

  She nodded. “Yeah, just...tired.”

  She felt silly saying that. Eliska was tired, too. “I understand. I promise to text you as soon as Lexa wakes.”

  She reached for Persephone, hugging her close. “I’m so thankful Lexa has a friend like you.”

  Persephone swallowed hard, and her eyes watered. Again, Hades words erupted in her mind.

  You should know that your actions have condemned Lexa to a fate worse than death.

  They’d attached themselves to her, like a leech, hungry for blood. They made her head and heart ache. They made her want to scream.

  I am not a good friend. I am not a good lover. I am not a good goddess.

  ***

  Work was awkward.

  Persephone didn’t feel comfortable around Demetri since learning about the bargain he’d made with Apollo. To make matters worse, he had resorted to assigning her menial tasks like making copies, verifying another co-worker’s work, and delegated some research he was supposed to do on a privacy law. He’d sent her the to-do list in an email with an end of day deadline, which meant she couldn’t work on any of the stories she had in her queue.

  She rapped on Demetri’s open door.

  “Have a moment?” she asked when he looked up from his tablet.

  “Not really,” he said. “Another time?”

  “It’s about the to-do list.”

  Demetri took off his glasses and stared at her. “It’s three things, Persephone. How hard can it be?”

  His comment flustered her. “It isn’t,” she snapped. “But I have other stories—”

  “Not today,” he cut her off. “Today, you have three things to accomplish by five.”

  Persephone set her teeth so hard, she thought her jaw might break.

  “Close the door as you leave.”

  She slammed it. Probably not the best move, but it was better than filling the guy with holes from the thorns she wanted to throw at him. She took a few breaths, deciding it would be best if she just got through the tasks Demetri had assigned.

  When she was finished, she could comb through the information she’d received over the last few weeks trying to decide on her next story.

  She had several options available to her and a million lines of inquiry, but the information she gravitated toward always included her mother. The Goddess of Harvest should be renamed the Goddess of Divine Punishment because she was definitely fond of torture and her methods were vicious, often forcing mortals into starvation or cursing them with an unquenchable hunger. Now and then, when she was really pissed off, she would create famine, killing off whole populations.

  My mother is the worst, Persephone thought.

  By the time lunch rolled around, Persephone was entertaining herself with thoughts of writing about Demeter. She could see the headline in black, bold letters:

  Nurturing Goddess of Harvest Deprives Whole Populations of Food.

  Then she cringed, imagining the fallout.

  It was likely Demeter would take revenge and probably in the most devastating way Persephone could imagine—revealing that she was actually Demeter’s daughter.

  With that thought, Persephone left the Acropolis and met Sybil at Mithaecus’ Cafe for lunch.

  Her mind was chaotic, going in several directions—dwelling on Lexa’s healing and Hades anger, making it hard for her to focus on anything the oracle was saying, which made her feel guilty because Sybil had news.

  “I had a job offer this week,” she was saying, which got Persephone’s attention. “From the Cypress Foundation.”

  Persephone lit up. “Oh, Sybil! I’m so happy for you.”

  “I should be thanking you,” she said. “I’m sure you’re why they picked me.”

  She shook her head. “Hades knows talent when he sees it.”

  The oracle didn’t look so certain.

  Persephone couldn’t explain why, but her excitement for Sybil dwindled quickly, as a heavy feeling settled on her chest. It was a combination of feelings—guilt, hopelessness, and a ton of unspoken feelings.

  “I have to hang out with Apollo,” she said abruptly.

  Sybil stared at Persephone.

  “That was the bargain,” Persephone explained. “I just...want you to know.”

  “I’m glad you told me,” she replied, and Persephone couldn’t help thinking she was too nice, too understanding.

  “Do you remember at the Gala, when you told me my colors and Hades colors were all...?”

  Her voice faltered; the question poised on her tongue. Sybil’s eyes were searching, and she pressed her lips together. Persephone wasn’t sure if it was because she was trying to keep from saying something she would regret, or if she was trying not to smile, either way, Persephone had to ask.

  “Are they still...tangled up?”

  “They are,” she said quietly. “I wish you could see it. It is beautiful, sensual and chaotic.”

  Persephone offered a humorless laugh. “Chaotic is right.”

  She smiled. “Well, I did say it was a tangle.”

  Persephone gave her a questioning look.

  “It is what happens when two powerful people meet.”

  “Discord?” Persephone asked.

  “And passion and bliss,” Sybil was smiling completely now.

  Persephone looked away. She and Hades definitely had all of those things, but were they possible to reclaim? After all she had done?

  Sybil placed a hand on Persephone’s.

  “You were always meant for greatness, Persephone, but getting there will be war.”

  She shivered.

  “Not literal war, right?”

  Sybil didn’t say.

  They left, walking in opposite directions, Persephone to work and Sybil to the hospital to visit Lexa. Persephone hadn’t heard from Eliska so assumed Lexa had yet to wake up. The thought made her anxious. Did that mean Apollo’s magic hadn’t worked? She pushed those thoughts aside. Apollo was an ancient god, his magic well-practiced.

  Lexa is still healing. She is tired, Persephone told herself. She needs her rest.

  She took a shortcut back to the Acropolis. She was getting used to avoiding the attention of jou
rnalists and rabid fans of the Divine, and that meant avoiding the main roads in favor of narrow alleyways. While they weren’t as pleasant as the well landscaped sidewalks of New Athens, she’d learned it was the easiest way to get where she needed in the least amount of time because there were fewer people, and those she did encounter didn’t seem to care that she was there. Which was probably why she noticed a snowy cat with large, green eyes following her.

  She knew by its mannerisms—strangely human and attentive—that the creature was a shapeshifter. Shapeshifters didn’t use glamour to mask appearances, their biology allowed them to change forms, which meant Persephone couldn’t see what they were beneath their animal form.

  Persephone continued walking for a while, pretending that she hadn’t noticed the cat wandering the allies with her. When she was sufficiently out of sight of any onlookers, she stopped. The cat seemed surprised and halted, too.

  Then, as if remembering it was supposed to be a cat, the creature began to lick its paw.

  Gross, Persephone thought. This stone is not clean.

  “Shift,” she ordered.

  If it was sent, as she suspected, by Hades, the shifter would have no choice but to expose itself. Despite this, the cat attempted to run away. Clearly, it hadn’t expected Persephone to confront it.

  Mid-run, its body straightened and grew, transforming into a slender female woman. She was tall and dressed in gold armor. Her dark hair was braided and fell over her shoulder to her waist. Persephone noted several weapons attached to her body—a long sword at her hip, a set of knives crossed on her back, a dagger around her bare thigh.

  She was an Aegis and an Amazon—a daughter of Ares bred for brutality and war.

  She knelt on one knee, pressing a hand to her chest as she did and said, “My Lady.”

  “Don’t,” Persephone’s voice was sharp, and the warrior met her gaze, standing. “Hades sent you?”

  “It is an honor to serve you, my lady.”

  “I didn’t ask for this,” Persephone said.

  “Lord Hades worries for you. I will keep you safe.”

  She really hated the way those words made hope bloom in her chest.

  “I don’t need you to keep me safe. I can take care of myself. I’ve lived in the mortal world for years and trust me, if an Amazon comes to my rescue, it’ll only make things harder for me.”

  The woman raised her head, defiant. “I will do as Lord Hades commands.”

  “Then I will speak with Lord Hades,” she replied, twisting on her heels.

  “Please.”

  Persephone was stopped by the shakiness in the Amazon’s voice. She faced the woman.

  “I shouldn’t expect you to care, but I need this. I need this charge. I need this honor.”

  “Why?”

  Persephone was genuinely curious, but she didn’t like the change it inspired in the Amazon. The woman looked at her feet, her shoulders fell. Whatever her reasoning, it was a burden. Then she said, “I do not wish to expose my shame.”

  A strained silence followed, and after a moment, Persephone asked, “What’s your name?”

  The woman looked bewildered.

  “You may call me Aegis, my lady.”

  “I prefer to call you by your name,” Persephone answered. “Just as I prefer you call me Persephone.”

  “Lord Hades—”

  “I really wish Lord Hades’ staff would stop telling me what he dislikes or likes. Clearly, he hasn’t made that consideration for me.”

  She regretted the outburst, because she was essentially, referring to the Aegis.

  But the woman smiled. “It’s okay,” she paused. “I’m Zofie.”

  “Zofie,” Persephone said her name. “If it is that important to you, I will not dismiss you.”

  But she would have words with Hades…when she decided to talk to him again.

  “Thank you...Persephone.”

  “I’m running late,” she said, and began to back away, and then she pointed at what the woman was wearing. “We’ll talk about the armor later.”

  Zofie advanced. “Lord Hades said not to let you out of my sight.”

  Persephone rolled her eyes. “You’re a cat, Zofie. I can’t bring you into my office.”

  “I’m content to wait for you outside,” she offered.

  Persephone sighed. “Fine. We’ll talk about that later, too.”

  Persephone left the alleyway, and her new Aegis followed. She had a lot of questions for the woman—namely, where was she from and why was it so important for her to keep this position? Persephone couldn’t refuse when she’d seen the look in her eyes because she had recognized it in herself. It was hopelessness.

  She wondered if the God of the Dead had chosen her Aegis strategically, knowing Persephone wouldn’t be able to deprive someone of their dream.

  CHAPTER XX - COMPETITION

  Persephone decided to deal with Zofie’s armor quickly.

  Upon leaving work, the Amazon trotted alongside her toward Hades’ Lexus and hopped inside.

  “To The Pearl, Antoni.”

  She wondered if Aphrodite would be in the boutique. Since Zofie was Hades’ employee, and she had been appointed to guard Persephone in the Upperworld, surely he wouldn’t mind if she charged clothing, shoes, and accessories to his account.

  And if he did, well, it was his fault for undermining her.

  Antoni glanced in the rearview mirror.

  “I see you met Zofie,” he said.

  “Don’t tell me you knew about this, Antoni.”

  The cyclops ducked his head a little, as if to hide from her frustration. “I think it was inevitable, my lady.”

  Persephone didn’t respond. She looked out the window as they passed marble-white buildings, stoic churches, and colorful apartments until they came to Aphrodite’s shop. Persephone picked Zofie up, who protested with a loud whine.

  “Shh!” she commanded. “No one let’s their cat walk into a shop of their own freewill.”

  She stepped out of the limo and into the shop.

  “I didn’t know you liked pussies,” Aphrodite said, materializing as soon as Persephone sat the cat on the floor. The goddess was a little more covered than usual, wearing a silk champagne dress, embossed with flowers. It had thin straps, came to her mid-calf, and looked more like a nightgown than something to wear in public, but Persephone was discovering that was Aphrodite’s modus operandi.

  “Shift,” Persephone ordered, and Zofie became human again.

  Aphrodite’s eyes narrowed upon the Amazon. “A daughter of Ares,” she said. “I’m not surprised.”

  Persephone’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

  “Hades would only ever assign the best to protect you.”

  Zofie bowed her head. “It is an honor for you to say, Lady Aphrodite.”

  The Goddess of Love offered a half smile, but it was not kind.

  “Of course. Everyone knows Amazons are brutal, aggressive, and full of bloodlust. You’re all just like your father.”

  Zofie stiffened beside her, and Persephone wondered why the goddess felt the need to be so cruel.

  “Aphrodite, I’m hoping to purchase a new wardrobe for my Aegis,” Persephone said quickly. “I need her to blend in if she’s going to...protect me.”

  It was hard for Persephone to say the word. She didn’t want to need protection. She wanted to protect herself, but at this point, after what had happened a few days ago, it was likely she’d just rip herself apart.

  “What’s the matter? War-time chic too flashy for you?”

  Persephone gave Aphrodite a dull look as she began pulling clothing off racks and handing it to the attendants.

  “What colors do you like, Zofie?” Persephone asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never thought about it.”

  Persephone paused and looked at her. “Never thought about it?”

  “We are warriors, Lady Persephone.”

  “That doesn’t
mean you can’t enjoy fashion,” Persephone remarked, and then laughed to herself. She sounded like Lexa.

  When the attendant’s arms were piled high with clothes, Persephone ushered Zofie into one of the changing rooms and took a seat. Aphrodite lounge nearby.

  “How’s the love life?” Aphrodite asked.

  “Why do you always ask that?”

  The question frustrated her for obvious reasons. She hadn’t seen Hades since their fight, and she’d agonized over the status of their relationship since.

  “I’ve never asked it of you before. I can usually smell it.”

  Persephone rolled her eyes, still repulsed by Aphrodite’s unusual skills.

  “Then I guess you have your answer.”

  Persephone didn’t look at Aphrodite, she stared at the curtain that Zofie had disappeared behind.

  “You might not be having sex, but you still love him,” Aphrodite said.

  “Of course I love Hades.”

  No one needed magic to see that.

  “Have you told him?”

  “I tried,” she said.

  Don’t say you love me.

  Aphrodite was quiet for a long moment, and then said, “I have never told anyone I loved them and meant it.”

  “What about Hephaestus?”

  “I have never told him that I loved him.”

  There was an uncomfortable pause and then Persephone asked, “Is that because you really do love him?”

  Aphrodite didn’t answer, and Zofie picked that moment to leave the changing room in a tailored blue dress that made her look remarkably tan and accentuated her athleticism.

  “Oh, Zofie! You look beautiful.”

  The Amazon flushed crimson and stood in front of the mirror, smoothing her hands over the fabric.

  “It’s not very conducive to fighting,” she commented, attempting to kick out her feet and squat.

  “Oh, darling. If you cannot fight in heels and a tailored dress in this age, how can you call yourself a warrior?”