A Touch of Malice

by Scarlett St. Clair

  “Do not pretend you care,” he said. “If you did, you wouldn’t marry Hades.”

  The circle tightened, and Persephone went rigid.

  “Don’t do this,” she said. “You will regret it.”

  “We do not fear Hades,” Jaison said.

  “It isn’t Hades you should fear,” she said. “It’s me.”

  He laughed—and the others joined in, but Persephone’s anger was boiling over. A hand reached for her and she exploded—literally. Thorns burst from her arms and legs and palms. They shot out like blades and cut through the mortals surrounding her, skewering many of them—including Jaison—at which ever level they stood, head or throat or chest or belly. She screamed at her anger, at the carnage, at the pain, but as it died, the thorns retracted, reeling into her body as if they were part of her. Still, she was left broken and bloody, her skin split.

  She fell to her knees at the center of her massacre, leaning forward, breathing raggedly. She tasted blood.

  Heal, she thought. You have to heal.

  Then she felt Hades’s unmistakable presence. She saw his shoes first, then her eyes made the slow climb up his body. When she saw his face, she saw a god—an ancient one full of rage and darkness and death.

  It took Persephone a moment to realize why the room had gone so quiet—it was because everyone was dead. Had she done this? Or was this Hades’s malice?

  “Hades.” She tried to say his name, but the blood in her mouth was thick and she choked on the word, sending a spray of crimson onto his shoes. Her head spun, and she fell the rest of the way to the floor.

  Hades bent and scooped her into his arms. She’d never seen him look this way—haunted, triggered—and she knew he was fighting something horrible and dark. She wanted to comfort him, and all she could think was that she hoped he knew how much she loved him.

  Then everything went dark.

  Part II

  “Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.”

  —Homer, The Iliad

  Chapter XIX

  The Island of Lampri

  When Persephone woke, she was in an unfamiliar bed. Her tongue felt swollen, but she could breathe, her throat no longer thick with blood. She lifted her arms, her skin smooth and unmarred from the magic she’d used to defend herself in the basement of Club Aphrodisia. She was healed, and yet she couldn’t help feeling like she’d failed because she hadn’t been able to do it on her own.

  She sat up, scanning the bright room for Hades. It did not take her long to find him. The balcony doors were open, letting in fresh, salty air that moved the gauzy curtains over the bed. Just outside, Hades sat. She slipped from the bed, wrapped the sheet around her body, and joined him.

  He wore a black robe and leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs, a glass of whiskey caught between his fingers. His features were severe, brows knitted together, jaw set tight. He seemed deep in thought, and she was a little afraid to disturb him, but she wanted to see his eyes.

  “Hades,” she whispered.

  He looked at her, his gaze stormy, and she wondered what kind of battle he was fighting inside.

  “Are you well?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, and the answer made her flinch. He took a drink from his glass, and his gaze returned to his feet. Hesitantly, she approached and reached to thread her fingers through his hair. It was wet and smelled strongly of spice. She took a deep breath, comforted by it.

  “Hades,” she said his name again. This time, it took him longer to raise his eyes to hers. “I love you.”

  She noticed how thickly he swallowed and averted his eyes. She sighed and reached for his glass, setting it on the table beside him. She managed to straddle him in the small chair, one knee on either side of his legs. She took his face between her hands and brushed her thumbs across his cheeks. He was so beautiful and so broken.

  “Will you tell me how you’re feeling?”

  “I don’t know that there is anything to say,” he answered.

  She studied him for a long moment. “Are you angry with me?”

  “I am angry with myself for letting you go, for trusting another to take care of you.”

  “I ordered Hermes—”

  “He swore an oath,” he snarled, cutting her off. Persephone froze for a moment, taken off guard by Hades’s anger. She hadn’t been awake long enough to think through this. She’d just seen him and wanted him. She should have known he would take this personally. He blamed himself for Pirithous; he would blame himself for this too.

  Still, she tried to explain.

  “Hades.” She placed her hands on his chest. “I…hurt myself. I failed. I couldn’t heal.”

  Hades’s jaw tightened.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m here.”

  “Barely,” he said through clenched teeth.

  It was the first time she noticed Hades’s hands weren’t on her. Instead, they gripped the arms of his chair. When she saw this, she slipped off his lap and took a step away, her back hitting the rail of the balcony.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said helplessly.

  “You can stop,” he said, his gaze full of rage. “You can decide not to get involved. You can stop trying to change people’s minds and save a world. Let people make their decisions and face the consequences. It is how the world worked before you, and it is how the world will continue.”

  She pushed off the balcony, straightening beneath his angry words.

  “This is different, Hades, and you know it. This is a group of people who have managed to capture and subdue gods.”

  “I know exactly what it is,” he snarled. “I have lived through it before, and I can protect you from it.”

  “I didn’t ask you to protect me from it,” Persephone said, her voice rising.

  “I can’t lose you.” He stood, caging her, his teeth bared. “I almost did, do you know that? Because I couldn’t fucking get my mind right to heal you. I have held men and women and children to me as they bled like you bled. I have had my face sprayed with their blood. I have had them beg for their life—a life I could not extend or heal or gift because I cannot fight their fate. But you—you did not beg for life. You were not even desperate for it. You were at peace.”

  “Because I was thinking about you,” she spat back at him. It was like he’d taken a knife to her chest. Her heart felt open and exposed, beating with all her pain and his. Hades froze. “I wasn’t thinking about life or death or anything but how much I loved you, and I wanted to say it, but I couldn’t…”

  She stopped. She didn’t need to explain further—Hades already knew why she hadn’t been able to talk, and she didn’t want to remind him of the horror he’d experienced while she lay unconscious and bleeding. His stare lingered on her face before his head fell into the crook of her neck and his body shook against hers. She said nothing as she felt hot tears soak through her skin. It was a long time before he composed himself, and when he pulled away, his eyes were dark and rimmed with red. She had never seen him like this before. This was his pain, real and raw.

  She pressed her hand to his cheek. “Will you take me to bed?”

  “I will take you here,” he said and bent to kiss her. He tasted like salt and whiskey, and he spoke against her mouth. “And then I will take you on the bed and then in the shower and on the beach. I will take you on every surface of this house and every inch of this island.”

  His hands moved to her hips, and he drew her against him as he returned to the chair. She let the sheet drop from her body before straddling him. Hades’s hands cupped her breasts and then he took her nipples into his mouth. Persephone threaded her fingers through his hair as he worked, her breath growing shallow, her body moving against his erection, which was still covered by the robes he wore. She grew frustrated, wanting to f
eel skin against skin, and parted them, exposing his chest and his engorged flesh. She moved against his warmth, the friction making her wetter.

  Hades’s hands moved to her ass, squeezing as she rocked against him, then his fingers slipped inside her and she shuddered. She spent a few minutes basking in the feel of him but soon desired more. She pulled him free and reached for his cock, guiding him inside her. She ground herself against him, feeling frenzied and desperate. The hair trailing from his stomach to his groin teased her clit. While she took control, Hades leaned back, his arms stretched over his head, gripping the top of the chair. He watched her face, eyes glittering, still full of shadow.

  Soon his hands returned to her waist, and he helped her move, grinding himself into her. The feel of him was a tonic she would take for the rest of her life. It brought life to her limbs and flame to her soul. His mouth moved over her shoulder, teeth grazing her skin. Their breaths mingled; their moans started to release in quick succession. Persephone felt the bottom of her stomach tighten, her muscles clenched around Hades’s cock, and his hot release poured into her.

  She collapsed against him, breathing hard. After a long moment, she shifted, pressing a kiss to his chest before straightening with Hades still inside her. She grinned.

  “Are you tired?”

  “I have never felt more alive,” he said, and it seemed that some of the darkness had dimmed from his eyes. She kissed him—long and slow, her tongue lapping at his until he was hard once more. She pulled away and rested her head against his chest, content to stay like this forever.

  “Where are we?” she asked, her voice was quiet.

  “We are on the island of Lampri,” he answered. “Our island.”

  “Our?”

  “I’ve had it,” he said. “But I rarely come. After I found you in the club, I did not wish to go to the Underworld. I did not wish to be anywhere but alone. So I came here.”

  There was another long stretch of silence.

  “Do you know if Tyche survived?”

  It was then Hades’s hands tightened around her.

  “No,” he said. “She did not.”

  * * *

  Later, Hades gave Persephone her phone, which allowed her to check in with Sybil, Leuce, and Zofie. They’d created a group text to tell her they loved her. Her eyes watered at their sweet messages. She let them know she was okay and asked after them.

  We’re fine. Zofie made sure we got home safe, said Sybil and she explained what happened upstairs. We knew something was wrong when people came out of the shadows screaming that a god was attacking people. We didn’t know if it was Hermes or…Hades.

  But it had been neither.

  It had been Aphrodite.

  It had been her. Suddenly, she recalled the carnage she’d caused. How many people had she killed?

  She set the phone aside, and when Hades entered the bedroom, he paused.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “How many people did I kill?” she whispered.

  Hades paused and then asked, “What do you remember?”

  “Hades—”

  “Will it help to know?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to speak but did not know how to answer.

  “Think on it,” he said. “I say this as a god who knows the answer.”

  After, they walked along the beach. It was strange seeing Hades in such a bright place, dressed down in nothing but a cloth wrapped around his waist. His skin was burnished beneath the sun, turning a golden bronze. She couldn’t look away.

  “Why are you staring?” he asked.

  “Does it upset you?” she asked, frowning.

  “No,” he said, matter-of-fact. “It makes me want to fuck.”

  She grinned.

  When they reached the shore, she ran into the ocean, squealing with delight as the water rushed upon her, soaking the bottom of her white dress. She turned to find Hades wading toward her.

  “How long has it been?” she asked Hades. “Since you have visited the ocean?”

  “For fun?” he asked. “I hardly know.”

  “Then we will make this memorable,” she said, hoisting herself up his body, fingers digging into his broad, muscled shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock settled against her, and her teeth grazed his bottom lip.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  Their mouths and bodies fused together. Her blood pounded, scattering her thoughts. Their hands skated across each other’s skin, enjoying the feel of one another. When Hades’s fingers tightened on her bottom, grinding into her with a desperate ferocity she wanted to match, they broke from one another, lips throbbing.

  “I want to show you something,” he said.

  She raised a brow, her lust dwarfing any other thoughts. “Is it your cock?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry, my darling. I’ll give you what you want, but not here.”

  They left the water and Hades guided her down the beach toward a grove of tropical plants and trees. Beyond them was a path that became rocky as it neared an open cave. Just inside was a set of steps that spiraled down into a grotto. The water was the color of hundreds of shimmering sapphires. Above them, the roof had collapsed, allowing for a stream of warm sunlight to filter in, hitting the water. Lush greenery grew within the walls of the cave, spilling down over the roughened surface.

  Persephone stared, awed by how beautiful it was.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “It is beautiful.”

  Hades grinned and started down another set of steps that led to the water. He shed the covering at his waist and stood naked, turning to face her. As she approached him, Hades stepped off the edge, sinking into the deep pool. She watched him surface some distance from the shore.

  His eyes glistened, dark and reverent.

  “Will you join me?”

  She pulled the thin dress over her head, discarding it beside her as she dove into the water. Hades caught her around the waist, pressing his lips to hers as they surfaced. Floating in the grotto, he made love to her mouth as she reached between them, guiding his cock between her legs so she could feel him there. Her breath caught as his lips left her mouth, trailing her jaw.

  “I will build temples in honor of our love, and I will worship you until the end of the world. There is nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for you.” He drew away to look at her, eyes like shimmering stars. “Do you understand that?”

  “Yes,” she said, tightening her hold around him. “I will give you everything you ever wanted, even things you thought you would live without.”

  Their mouths collided again, and Hades gripped her, guiding them backward toward a dip in the rock wall where a trickling waterfall kept a larger cave obscured. He lifted her from the water and walked into it, guiding her against the wall of the cavern. One arm stretched up, and the other found purchase beside her head. She held his smoldering gaze.

  “There is something dark that lives inside me,” he said. “You have seen it. You recognize it now, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “It wants you in ways that would scare you.”

  Was he telling this to scare her? Because it had the opposite effect, sending a thrilled shiver down her spine.

  “Tell me.”

  “That part of me wants you praying for my cock. Writhing beneath me as I pound into you. Begging for my come to fill you.”

  Persephone kept her hands pressed into the wall, her nails scraping at the rock behind her. She stared up at him through her lashes, feeling both shy and daring.

  “How do you prefer to receive prayer, my lord?”

  “On your knees,” he said.

  She watched him as she knelt, level with his erection. Hades gathered her hair into one hand, twining it around his fists until her scalp pricked with pain.


  “Suck me,” he ordered, and she obeyed.

  She took him into her mouth, lavishing his crown with her tongue, sucking the tip until she tasted his come. Hades groaned, his hand tightening in her hair, bringing tears to her eyes, but she continued, wanting to play with the darkness surfacing in the bite of his hold. When he started to thrust into her mouth, all she could do was receive, a vessel for his pleasure. Both his hands cupped her head, his muscles bulged, his breath ragged. She thought he would come, but he withdrew suddenly, dragging her to her feet roughly, molding his mouth to hers. She widened her stance as he guided his cock between her legs, teasing her opening, slick with need for him.

  “Hades—” Her voice came out strangled—a plea he answered by gripping her hips and slamming into her. While he leveraged her against the wall, another hand came to rest upon her neck, his face pressed against her own as he moved. Each thrust drew a desperate moan from her throat, and her fingers bit into his shoulders, scraping down his skin. Hades’s mouth returned to hers, tongue tasting, teeth scraping. He kissed and moved with a ferocity she hadn’t felt before, and it drew filthy words and sounds from her mouth she’d never said or heard before.

  “I want to feel your release,” she said, arching her back, her shoulder blades cutting into the rock. “I want your come inside me.” Her breath caught in her throat. “I want to feel it drip down my thighs.” Her heels dug into his ass.

  “I want to be so full of you, I only taste you for days.” Her mouth closed over his earlobe, and she sucked hard.

  As she spoke, Hades continued to thrust; his mouth moved to her neck where he sucked her skin and bit her hard. She cried out at the sweet sting as the vibration of her first orgasm began to rock through her. It continued, not peaking, just lasted on and on until her whole body shook, and when Hades groaned, offering a feral growl, she felt the heat of his release inside her.

  They stayed plastered against one another for a while, until Hades peeled himself away and lifted her into his arms, teleporting to the bedroom, where he laid her down upon the bed. She expected him to stretch out beside her, but instead, he knelt between her legs and kissed up her thighs until his mouth covered her clit, his tongue sweetly devouring her swollen skin.