“Betsy wasn’t wrong.”
Her eyes bulged, obviously embarrassed by the predicament she found herself in.
“I told her I didn’t love Tom—that’s my fiancé—and Betsy told me I should...experience, uh, passion...before I get married.”
He almost laughed. Whoever Betsy was, she was a friend to him as well.
“You think I’m passionate?”
Winnie lit up, sticking her chin up from her collar and grinning like a wide-eyed child. “Betsy says you must be passionate. You play the piano as if you’re pouring your soul into the very instrument you play. I can’t help but feel every note of your songs.”
“Then let me play for you,” he offered surreptitiously. “I’ll make it a private showing.”
Winnie didn’t say another word for another couple feet farther, at least not until they were standing at a tall iron gate before a foreboding mansion.
“This is me,” she whispered and turned her attention to the lit windows behind her. Hades leaned his hand on the iron gate.
“Let me play for you. Come back tomorrow night, after eleven.” He stuck a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to meet his. “Make sure you skip dinner.”
“Why?”
“Just do it. I’ll make it worth your while.” He winked for good measure, and she swooned; like he knew she would.
Winnie departed and Hades, filled with hope, went back to his hidden bar in anticipation. If Apollo had the grace to sink the sun sooner, he would have asked and offered all the Underworld in return. Still, the day went on as usual and by the time the clock struck eleven o’clock, dinner was ready and his guest had arrived. Winnie was dressed as elegantly as ever, adorned in sapphires from her head to her feet. She was the bluest thing he had ever seen.
“I didn’t eat, like you said,” she stuttered, “Mama was angry, but I did it anyway.”
“No worries, Win, I made you something special.” She followed him to a lone table, a few feet from the piano, with one seat and a candle. He moved the chair for her and she sat, mumbling a silent thank you. “Whiskey or bourbon?”
“Bourbon, please.”
Careful of her dress, he poured a small glass and served it with a plate of braised pork and seared dates. Her eyes grew wide with excitement. She must have been starving.
“You enjoy your meal, and I’ll play for you.”
She nodded as she brought the glass of bourbon to her lips. He began to play. It was soft at first, quiet like a whisper, but the melody rose and eventually his hands took over. He didn’t know exactly what he was playing, but it sounded like the first song he wrote for her, a lullaby. Something Persephone could sing to her garden when she came home, to the Underworld. He remembered how much she loved to sing to her flowers. He missed that.
“Betsy would be jealous,” Winnie said, appearing by his side as she leaned on the piano. “I think that was the most beautiful thing I’ve heard you play. It sounded a little sad though.”
Hades felt a tug at his heart. He had written that for Persephone, but she wasn’t here. She hadn’t been here in centuries. Instead, she had become Winnie, and before, she was Celena. Each time she was more beautiful than the life before. And she was real, palpable. He pushed himself up slowly from the bench, reaching for her face until their noses were pressed together. Her breath was sweet with liquor.
Then, Winnie grabbed his suspenders and kissed him.
Hades felt the heat of her body press against him and he tangled his hands into her soft curls. Celena had been fire, but Winnie was something sweeter. He felt like he could sink into her embrace forever. He wanted to preserve the moment, bask in her tender embrace, but something inside of him snapped. He tugged at the shoulders of his suspenders, dropping them to his side. As his lips pressed against hers, he could hear the soft hum of pleasure coming from inside her. His hands pushed at the beaded hem of her dress until it was above her thighs.
“Is this alright, Win?” He asked between kisses. She nodded breathlessly.
Passion. She had wanted to experience passion. Picking her up by the waist, he sat her down on the edge of the piano and pushed the skirt up until it pooled around her hips. He sucked in a deep breath at the lack of undergarments. He was helpless as her legs wrapped around his waist. She reached down to his pants and unbuttoned them, bringing him closer until he was inside. Hades sighed against her shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of her neck and taking in the sweet scent of her skin.
He rocked into her soft flesh, kissing her neck up to her waiting lips. She made the sweetest sounds, like a little bird cooing. In that moment, he wished he could share the memories he had held onto for centuries. Their shared laughter in the gardens of the Underworld. The evenings shared in the fur blankets of his bed. The stories she’d whisper into his ear when she had thought he was sleeping. His movements became more urgent; his fingers dug into the wood of the piano. Her gasps sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. If this was all he could have of her—if this was his last chance to be with the woman he loved, he’d treasure it. He’d lock it away, far from the clutches of her mother and his brother.
The sounds of keys played beneath her feet as she clung to his shoulders.
“I’ve got you, Win,” he purred into her ear. “I won’t let you go.” A promise he had repeated to himself in memory of her, more times than he could ever recall. A promise he had failed to uphold time and time again.
As the crest of their lovemaking came, Hades gazed at Winnie; her face etched in pleasure. He had only ever wanted her to be happy. In her other lives, he had been so desperate to find Persephone, he had forgotten entirely who she had become. He had not wanted Celena; he had wanted Persephone, and it was his selfishness that led to her death. Unlike her previous incarnations, Winnie could have a good life. If he loved her, he would have to let her go.
And maybe this time she would live.
Because this time, he wouldn’t offer a pomegranate seed.
Winnie murmured his name softly as she found her release, falling into his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his middle. She was flushed and happy. So undeniably happy. It broke him down to his core as they separated and began to dress themselves. It pained him more to walk her home afterwards. She was a delirious klutz, almost tripping on the sidewalk as she skipped beside him. When they stood at the gate of her home, she took his hands.
“I think I’ll keep this to myself, always,” she teased, “Betsy won’t ever know.”
Hades feigned his best smile and pecked her forehead, bidding her goodnight. He would become a forgotten memory to her. A dalliance during an uncertain time in her life. He watched as she disappeared down the path, closing the gate behind her. She glanced back only once; a sort of sadness in her eyes. A sadness he could feel twisting in his gut. This would be the last time he’d see her. He promised he’d let her go. He’d let go of the past—he’d let go of Persephone.
If it meant her happiness...
She would disappear, slipping into time again, and this time, so would he. That night, he left the city and without ever knowing, he took her heart too. Several years passed and out of curiosity, he returned, searching for his passion-seeking Winnie. Hades found himself inside a speakeasy late one evening with a few lingering men. They were talking, as drunken men do, about the headlines in the paper about another suicide. He wasn’t interested in the story until they mentioned her name. Winnie. She had married her fiancé, Tom. Tom, who should have never had the chance with her.
He had invested his family’s fortune in the stock market, and lost everything in the crash of 1929. Winnie’s fate had been worse still. She had died six months into her marriage. The men talked about hardships in the marriage early on, which was mostly speculation and rumors. One of the men said Tom drank too much, and partook in the pleasures of other women too often. And while they lived glamorously in an estate in Manhattan, it seemed there was something missing from her life that not even money could
buy: Love.
“Everyone knew she pined for a piano player,” another man said as he threw back a shot of scotch. “Ol’ Tom never stood a chance. Not with that spit fire. She caught a case of melancholia and one June evening, threw herself off the Brooklyn Bridge. He was never the same after that.”
The men slurred a ‘here, here’ and tossed another shot back in the name of the fallen man.
Hades sucked down his own bourbon, thinking of her, and paid the bartender with a dime. He knew he’d never be the same. He knew he could never allow what had happened to Leora, to Celena, and most of all to Winnie, ever happen again. Her future reincarnations would live, he would make certain of that, regardless of Demeter or anyone else who might interfere.
Chapter 15
The door to the stone-marbled structure was locked. Of course it was.
“I’m certain only my Lord has the key now,” Morpheus explained, shrugging. Taking a few steps back, I slid my gaze over the building, taking in the different angles and windows. On the second story, an array of windows wrapped around the dome. As I turned to face Morpheus, my eye caught his extended wings.
“Maybe you could fly me to the top...to have a look in.”
He shifted, as though my suggestion had made him uncomfortable.
“I mean... never mind,” I added, shaking my head. Morpheus turned his gaze away and began to walk back into the opening of the forest, leaving me alone in front of the grand structure. There was something about it—something that felt strangely familiar. And yet, I knew it was impossible. I’m not Persephone. I’m not her.
I wished the words over and over again in my head as I explored the small garden beside the domed tower. As I peered through what had once been lavish bushes of flowers, I noticed a side door to the stone-marbled building. I don’t know what motivated me to try the door, but my feet moved without a second thought. My hand pushed on the handle, and the door moved just slightly. Determined, I pushed again, heaving as hard as I could. The door creaked as it gave way, revealing a small, dust-covered kitchen. As I stepped in, my feet crunched against the dirty floor. Wilted leaves scattered the path, while roots from the trees outside were beginning to rise through the marbled stone floor.
When was the last time anyone had been inside?
My eyes moved from the empty hearth, to the large table in the middle of the room. Nature had already begun to take back the space; the walls were covered in vibrant green vines. Maneuvering from the room, I began to explore down a short, narrow hallway. At the end, I found a large, oval room, with a spiraling staircase that lead up to the second floor. While the stairs were made of stone, I didn’t trust it would hold my weight. There were signs that the staircase had already started to age and crumble.
“This must be the entrance,” I said to myself softly, turning as I recognized the large door from behind me.
A deep sort of sadness took hold of my chest and sunk its nails into my heart. Was this really what was left of Hades and Persephone’s time together? Why had he let it fall into such disrepair? If it had been their place—the place they once had shared—then why...why was it crumbling to nothing? As I gazed to the second floor landing, I wondered what secrets I’d uncover there. What would I find? What had they left behind? My curiosity grew the more I realized how much I wanted to peek inside their old life.
Maybe I was just as bad as Pandora with her fateful box. But if Darce hadn’t wanted me to explore, why had he allowed me to come in the first place? Tucking my hair behind my ear, I tried to build up my courage. I was never a fan of heights, but what would be the worst thing that could happen to me if I fell? I was in the presence of Gods, for crying out loud. There had to be some benefit to that, right?
Maybe the staircase would hold me. Maybe it was all worth giving a try; if it meant me getting the answers I wanted. I was about to take the first step when I heard Morpheus call my name.
“Summer?”
I jumped back and darted my gaze back towards the hallway where I had come from. Morpheus. I heard his boots against dirt-covered floors as he approached. I saw the curve of a wing first as he rounded the corner of the hall.
“What are you doing in here?”
“I saw the door was open,” I said, gesturing towards the way he had come. “So I came inside.”
His eyes moved around the oval room, until they landed back on me.
“We should go,” he said, tilting his chin back towards the door.
I didn’t know what to say. I felt as though I were a child, being caught with my hand in a cookie jar. He turned sharply on his heel, going back the way he came. I didn’t want to go, but my gut told me to anyway.
“Why is it like this?” I asked as I followed after him.
“Like this?” Morpheus asked, pausing by the door. His hand eased it open more as he raised a brow.
“It’s crumbling... falling apart.” My fingers brushed over the vine-covered walls, as I looked to him more insistently. “Why?”
“Some things are better left... untouched,” he offered. “Some things are too…”
But he didn’t finish his sentence. There was something more. I knew there was. Had Darce given up? Had he come to believe he would never see Persephone again? Instead of voicing my questions out loud, I held them back. It was probably better that way. At least for now. He lifted his hand, gesturing for me to leave first.
I looked over my shoulder for a moment before I slipped back outside.
Morpheus was eager to get me back on the boat. He made sure I followed him through the gardens, back out through the forest silently. Even the boat ride back to the marble dock had been quiet. The lapping water was the only sound between the two of us as Morpheus rowed. I caught his gaze a few times, and waited for him to say something - anything. Instead, he turned his dark eyes back to the glowing halls awaiting us. As he tied the boat to the side, I stepped onto the tiled marble and brushed my hands over my leggings.
“Thank you for taking me to the grove. Now that I know where it is, I shouldn’t have any trouble finding it again,” I said, lowering my eyes to the floor.
Too embarrassed by the silence, I started the long walk of shame towards the set of archways leading into the main hall. But before I could manage my escape, Morpheus gently grasped my elbow and drew me back. There was a great amount of conflict written in his expression.
“Summer,” he murmured. “Promise me you won’t go out on Lethe without me or... Darce.”
“Why?”
He shifted his weight and tucked his wings in more tightly against his back. “The powers of this river are irreversible. If something were to happen—”
I knew where he was going with this. If something were to happen to me...the consequences would be catastrophic.
“Fine,” I mumbled and gave a quick, curt nod.
“Where have the two of you been?” Arae interrupted, startling the both of us. She was still dressed in the elegant gown from this morning. Though now, her hair was tied back, away from her face.
“You didn’t take her to the Asphodel Fields, did you?” She asked, crossing her arms against her chest. “My Lord has strictly forbidden any of us to take her there.”
“Asphodel Fields?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. “Why... What’s that?”
“It’s where—” Arae began as she lazily brought her nails up to her gaze. But before she could finish, Morpheus reached out and grabbed her hand like a flash of lightning. He was inhumanly fast.
“Arae,” he commanded sternly. Shaking his head, he lifted his finger to his lips. I grabbed his arm and shook my head.
“Oh, no you don’t! You better spill. What is this field that Darce doesn’t want me to see?”
“She’s a feisty one.” Arae giggled and yanked her hand from Morpheus’s grasp.
I glowered at her. “If neither one of you tells me... I’ll find out myself.”
Morpheus pressed his lips into a thin line. I could see his thoughts moving like c
lockwork. He was calculating the best way to answer me, which was probably more annoying than his silence.
“It’s where all the spirits go. It’s where they reside until they continue on with their journey.”
“So, like ‘limbo’?”
“Essentially, yes.” Morpheus said reluctantly.
I knew what they meant. Their lack of explanation said it all. My father. My father was there. He must still be in this... Asphodel Fields.
“Take me,” I locked my eyes on the boat. “He promised me. We made a bargain.”
“And when the time is right, my Lord will take you there,” Morpheus said with a nod.
“So, he forbids anyone from taking me there?” I looked between the two of them. “When?”
“Does it really matter when, human?” Arae asked, feigning a yawn. “The Lord of the Underworld made an order and we, his humble subjects, keep to them.”
“I’m not one of his subjects,” I snapped. Hell, in his mind, I was as good as his Queen. Right?
“Where is Darce now?”
“Finishing with the minx—I mean... Minthe,” she said, gazing over her shoulder darkly. Duly noted—no one liked Minthe. “Might I suggest you change out of those...” Arae twirled her finger around my comfortable attire.
“Things.”
“They’re clothes,” I replied curtly. “Clothes.”
“If you say so.”
“I don’t have anything else,” I explained. “I didn’t exactly pack an ensemble with the Underworld in mind.”
Arae flashed a smile and lifted a hand towards the marble hallway.
“Then, allow me to assist.” She slid her fingers around my wrist and hauled me down the hallway a little too excitedly.
I looked back at Morpheus only once. He was grinning from ear to ear. I could have murdered the both of them. I knew as she dragged me along, I’d come to regret this. After descending through the Versailles hallway, Arae pulled me through another long hallway, with arched ceilings and gold adorned paintings.
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