Asphodel (The Underworld Trilogy)

Home > Romance > Asphodel (The Underworld Trilogy) > Page 15
Asphodel (The Underworld Trilogy) Page 15

by Lauren Hammond


  Hades pushes me back on the bed, resting half on top of me. His eyes sweep over my face and he traces my jawline with a finger before brushing back a loose piece of my hair. “I have a plan,” he muses softly. “But that’s only if you want to participate in it.”

  My face is burning and my lips tingle. My arms and legs are shaking so profusely with want for his lips on mine that I feel like every part of me is charred. My organs are shriveling up and turning to ash. They’ll blow away with one gentle gust of wind if he doesn’t give me what I want. But he does. He glides his lips over mine. Kissing me softly. Sensually.

  The kiss doesn’t last very long and I’m greedy. I’m a masked bandit on a train, shoveling piles of cash into a pillow case. I want more. I need more. Just a little bit will never be enough. A tiny brush from his lips will never be enough. “Do it again,” I whisper, breathless.

  “What?” he smirks. “This?” He crushes his lips into mine and this time the kiss is deeper, passionate, and exhilarating. Before I realize what I’m doing my hands are in his hair and he’s sliding his fingers up my shirt. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest. Two hearts beating in sync. We’re breathless and tangled in lustful embrace, neither one of us wants to be pried away from each other.

  He hovers above me breathless and a pang of want circles my heart. “Why did you stop?”

  “We’re out of time,” he says.

  “No.” We can’t be. Even if Hermes is here it will still take him time to pay Charon and cross the Styx.

  I try to draw him closer, but he pulls away from me, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hermes got here before I came to your room. He’ll be blasting through that door any minute.”

  “He knows where my room is?”

  “He knows where every room in the palace is. He’s been here millions of times. He has the layout memorized.”

  “What about your plan?” I ask perking up. “You said you had one. What is it?”

  Hades shakes his head and stares off. “Forget it,” he mutters as he runs one of his hands through his midnight locks.

  “Tell me,” I demand.

  He reaches into the pocket of his cloak and pulls out a red, round pomegranate. He spins the fruit around and stares at it intensely. “You haven’t eaten since you’ve been here.” He palms the fruit and shoves it back into his pocket. “Before I came in here I thought about tricking you into eating somehow,” he admits. “But I can’t.” He places his hand against my cheek then lets out a soft tortured laugh. “You mean too much to me and now I know that I can’t make you eat it. Especially if you don’t want to.”

  “I mean too much to you,” I repeat softly as an explosion of delight thunders in my chest. “I—I.” I can’t find words to describe the way hearing him say that makes me feel.

  “You mean everything to me,” he announces. “I love you. I have loved you for centruries and centuries. Why do you think I’ve chased you for all this time?”

  In one swift motion, I reach across his chest and snatch the pomegranate from his pocket. “I love you too.” I bite into the fruit and chew slowly savoring the sweet juice and bitter skin. “And I can’t imagine an eternity without you.”

  He lunges for my mouth and trails his tongue along my lips licking up some of the dripping pomegranate juice. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?” he asks with a smile.

  I laugh and take another bit of the fruit. “Practically forever,” I say with a mouthful.

  More juice drips down my chin and Hades wipes it away with one finger before putting his finger in his mouth. “It’s sweet. Like you.”

  I laugh again and swallow the chewed up fruit in my mouth then take another huge bite. After swallowing what I’ve got in my mouth the door flies open and Hermes stands in the open doorway. He’s all limbs, long arms and legs and his syrup colored eyes are filled with panic. He stares at the half-eaten pomegranate in my hand and at my juice stained lips. “No,” he gasps, inching closer. “No.”

  Hades and I both stand and Hades shoves me behind him. His spine tenses and he lets out a protective growl. “Back off Hermes. You can’t take her!”

  “I can and I will,” the messenger boasts. “Hand her over, now.”

  Fury builds inside of Hades and I watch his fists as they turn red and start shaking. “No!” he booms the lowers his voice. “She’s eaten the fruit of the dead, Hermes. She’s not going anywhere.”

  Hermes peers around Hades and narrows his eyes as I take another huge bite. He starts toward me, pushes Hades out of the way, grabs my face, squeezing firmly as the pomegranate drops from my hands and rolls on the floor. “How much have you eaten?” Hermes shrieks. I try to swallow the mouthful of fruit, but Hermes grip on my jaw tightens. “Spit it out!”

  Hades plows into Hermes, knocking him to the side and the might messenger stumbles, but smiles devilishly when he notices the pomegranate on the floor. “She’s coming with me,” he says confidently.

  “No she’s not,” Hades snarls. “I already told you Hermes—.”

  Hermes cuts him off, “You sure did, but you left out one tiny part.”

  “What?” Hades barks.

  “She’s only eaten half.” Hades eyes shift to the floor; the half-eaten piece of fruit fills his gaze and with that tiny distraction, Hermes charges forward encircling my waist with an arm, reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a vile of some kind of elixir. I clamp my mouth shut, but Hermes is stronger than me and manages to pry it open, spilling the elixir onto my tongue. I try to spit it out, but it’s too late and some sneaks down the back of my throat.

  Hades starts for me, arms outstretched, a pained look in his eye. “Noo!”

  But before he can reach me, Hermes jumps up, the wings on his shoes fluttering and blasts through the ceiling, but not before I can stretch my arms and reach for him, screaming out, “HADES”, one last time.

  Persephone

  Warmth surges through me. There’s no more coldness. There’s no more darkness. As I open my eyes the sunlight shines brightly and I realize I’m not beneath the earth’s core anymore. I’m on top of it. I’m back on earth, laying ten feet away from the tree where the asphodel was planted. That elixir Hermes made me drink must have made me throw up because next to my face lies six seeds, the pomegranate seeds I’d consumed and I scramble to pick them up and swallow them all over again. I have to. Swallowing them is the only way. It’s the only way I’ll get back to him. And never being able to see him again is not an option.

  I scoop the seeds up quickly and bring them to my lips, but just as I open my mouth to eat them, a gust of wind sweeps through the trees and carries them away. “No!” I cry in a panic and try to chase after them. But as soon as the wind knocks them from my palm they burst into a million tiny particles. They’re dust.

  On my feet, I spin in a circle and a new flower, a daisy grows beneath the tree where the asphodel was planted. I’m panicked and desperate and I convinced myself that even though it’s a daisy, the second I pick it the earth will open up and pull me under. He’ll pull me under. He will. I know it.

  I snatch the flower hastily, pulling up some of the root. Then I wait, for seconds, minutes. After ten long, excruciating minutes of waiting passes by my entire world falls apart. He’s not coming. He’s not coming. He’s not coming. The words bounce around inside of my head as I sink to my knees.

  Pain ripples through my lungs and I hunch over. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Those seeds were my only hope. And now all hope is lost. I fall forward and go face first into the dirt. Hysteria swells up inside of me and spills out of my eyes in the form of tears. “No!” I slam my fists into the mud. “Come back for me. Please. I know you can.” I put my mouth directly on the ground and talk to the dirt, thinking that he’ll be able to hear me. “Come back. Pull me under. Please.”

  Shooting up from the ground, I run in circles around my yard. Maybe he’s here, watching, lurking somewhere wearing his invisibility cloak. “Hades
!”

  Nothing.

  “Hades! Hades! Hades!”

  Still nothing.

  I close my eyes and suck back my tears and that’s when I hear it… His voice. “Persephone,” he hisses.

  My eyes fly open and hope flourishes through me. He heard me. I knew he would. “Hades,” I call out and chase after the gentle hiss of his voice.

  I hear it again, “Persephone,” and follow the sound of the voice up the back patio steps and through the sliding glass doors.

  “I’m here,” I shout as tears of joy rain down my face. “I can hear you!” But the moment I close the sliding glass door, the voice cuts out altogether. And I whip the sliding glass door open, hoping that if I step outside I’ll be able to hear him again. I fumble with handle when an odd feeling sets in. The house is quiet, too quiet. I glimpse over my shoulder at the empty, organized kitchen. Something isn’t right. Where is my mom?

  I know her. She’d never just leave me like this. She’d be waiting at the door to sweep me up in her arms, elated by my safe return. I turn away from the door and creep through the kitchen. “Mom! I’m home! Are you here?”

  No answer.

  I bolt into the living room and take inventory. Everything is still in its place. Nothing has been moved. So I know there was no break in or kidnapping of some sort. What’s going on? I scale the steps and look in every room upstairs. Mom isn’t anywhere. She’s vanished like Hades when he does his infamous disappearing act. But at least I know one thing; wherever mom went, she went on her own accord.

  After looking through even room in the house a second time I end up in the kitchen again so consumed by heartbreak and confusion I can’t decide which part of me I should focus on first. The silence is startling and I wish for some kind of noise because there are a million questions rambling in my head. I know mom and Zeus were behind Hermes taking me, but what else have they been up to? Do they plan to punish Hades? If so, how? Hades would never go quietly. Hades wouldn’t let them get close enough to try and administer a punishment. Besides, those kinds of punishments went out centuries ago, didn’t they?

  A ticking clock pulls me from my thoughts and my eyes shift, but not before noticing a note held up by a magnet on the crème refrigerator. White fills up my gaze and I snatch the paper quickly, not even bothering to pick the magnet up after it falls onto the floor. There are numbers scrawled across the paper in messy handwriting with the initials M.O underneath it.

  “M.O?” I question myself out loud. We don’t know anyone with those initials. Unless… Unless they aren’t a person’s initials and in that case I know exactly what they stand for, Mount Olympus.

  Grabbing the phone, I dialed the number on the paper. The phone rings a few times then cuts out. “Mount Olympus this is Hestia,” Hestia says. I can hear a tug of annoyance in her vocal chords. Like the last thing she wants to be doing is playing secretary and answering phones.

  "Hestia,” I gush. “It’s Persephone.”

  “Oh dear,” Hestia exhales and her voice relaxes. “I heard what happened to you. I’m so glad Hermes got you back safely.”

  “Thanks, Hestia,” I say, twisting the phone cord between my fingers. “Can I talk to my mom? It’s important.”

  “Sure, dear. One second.”

  Hestia puts me on hold and some strange elevator music plays in the back round. Since when did Mount Olympus become like this. It’s commercial, almost like a corporation of some kind.

  Hestia comes back on. “Persephone, you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve got your mom on the other line.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sweetheart!” mom squeals. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear your voice!”

  Her voice sounds too candy coated and it makes me suspicious. “Why aren’t you here?” I ask, warily. “I thought you’d want to be here when I was returned.” If mom is involved in something that Zeus has his hands in I know this will not be good for me or Hades.

  “I had some business to take care of.” She changes the subject. “When did you get back?”

  Mom’s odd behavior enhances my suspicions even further. “Where’s Hades?”

  Hades. Just mentioning his name makes my heart split open and throb. Tears water in my eyes and I pull the phone away from my face, exhaling. I’m building blocks scattered about on the floor. I need a six year old and a table to make something out of me. I need to feel built up and whole again. I’d only been away from him an hour and already his absence is haunting me. I’d only been away from him for an hour and it felt like days, years even. There was even a moment earlier where I swore I could feel him touching my shoulder.

  “Don’t you worry about Hades,” mom snaps. “He’s being taken care of. And he’s not your concern anymore.”

  At that moment, I decide trusting my mom may not be a good thing. She’s gone dirty, sided with Zeus and I know any information I give her won’t go to my advantage. “I know,” I say with a hint of snarkiness. “I hope he gets the punishment he deserves.” I blanch after saying those words because Hades doesn’t deserve to be punished. He didn’t do anything wrong. Unless they considered loving someone for centuries a crime.

  “So you haven’t spoken to him?” mom questions me. There is a suspicious undertone to her voice and I know she’s trying to tell if I’m lying. I have to step up my game.

  “Of course not!” I scoff, pretending to be offended. “Why would I talk to him? He abducted me, remember?”

  “Did he….Did he…” Mom fumbles her words. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” I say with force. I can’t lie about that.

  “Good.” A sigh of relief from her whooshes through the phone. “Don’t worry sweetheart. Hades will be judged and tried accordingly.”

  Wait a second. “What?”

  Muffled voices fill the backround and mom’s hand covers the receiver. A second later she’s back. “I have to go sweetheart. I’ll be home in a few days. And I promise no more running. We can stay in Oregon for a while. And I might even let you date that boy next door,” she pauses, “Oh. What’s his name?” I can hear her snapping her fingers.

  “Adonis,” I say with a growl.

  “Yes, Adonis,” she gushes. “I love you sweetheart.”

  But I don’t want Adonis. I love Hades. He is my forever.

  “Mom, wait!” But it’s too late. All I hear is a dial tone.

  After hanging up the phone, I walk into the living room and fall backwards onto the couch. I need to come up with a plan and I need to figure out what’s going on. But there is a barrier blocking out my thoughts. I can’t think straight. Wanting a distraction, I reach for the remote and turn on the television. I look away, hoping that the noise makes me come up with a solution of sort—a way to find out what’s going on with my mom and what they are going to do to Hades, but I come up with nothing.

  “More breaking news on the Pomegranate crisis.” The deep overpowering voice of a male newscaster throbs in my ears and pulls me from my reverie. My eyes flash to the television screen. I pick up the remote and turn up the volume, keeping my eyes glued to the screen.

  Multiple images flash across the screen of blazing trees. Bright orange and yellow flames dance around in my eyes and my mouth gapes open as I watch the broadcast and the events being broadcasted unfold. I get up from the couch and sit down on the floor, inches away from the screen. The picture fade from the screen and the newscaster comes back on. The regal, well put together man adjusts a stack of papers in front of him and clears his throat. “Thank you for tuning in.”

  “Pomegranate crisis,” I mumble in disbelief.

  The newscaster goes on with his report. “The pomegranate crisis has reached an all-time high as it appears that now every tree has been set ablaze. We’ve got Stan on the scene with more information. Stan?”

  More images flash on the screen and each image has a place listed underneath, but I look away momentarily and the only one I notice is
India. I focus on the screen again when the reporter on the scene comes into view, standing feet away from a burning tree. “Thanks Bob.” The reporter steps to the side and hold his hand out, pointing to the tree behind him. “This is Stan Williams reporting for WKFTV and I’m here in California reporting on the unfolding Pomegranate Crisis and we’ve got an eye witness account. A short rotund man steps forward. There’s a wobble in his step and ashes and dirt smeared all over his round face. Stan extends the microphone to the man. “Sir, can you tell us what you saw?”

 

‹ Prev