Ambrosia Lane 1-3: Saranna DeWylde

by Desperate Housewives of Olympus

  “Yes!” Hera hissed and darted toward the kitchen and the back door.

  Zeus appeared inside before Abstinence could get to the door. She spared a glance and noticed the back door had swung wide.

  “Why do you never answer the door?”

  “Why do you never wait for me to answer the door?”

  “Was someone here?” he asked carefully.

  “Is that your business?”

  He looked startled for a moment before he laughed. “I am a jealous god. I want your attentions only for me.”

  “What if I said the same thing? Hmm? I didn’t ask where you were all day.”

  “You’re not my wife.”

  “And if your wife asked, would you tell her?” she volleyed.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m a god. She should mind her place.”

  Abstinence had a hard time not letting her jaw drop at that one. Her place? Dick. “I wonder how you’d feel about it if you asked her where she’d been and she declined to tell you?”

  “I don’t care what she does, so I don’t ask.”

  “I bet that would change if she were banging the shit out of, say, Poseidon?”

  “Have you heard something?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “No, just an example.” Abstinence shrugged as if she couldn’t care less.

  He studied her for a moment. “Let’s not talk about my wife.”

  “Why not? I met her today.” Abstinence was having more fun with this than she probably should have. It was just that he was so sure of himself, so sure of his place in the universe and really believed he wasn’t governed by the rules that applied to everyone else. So the startled look on his face pleased her immensely. It made her wonder what other things she could say that would shock him.

  “You what?”

  “She’s hot.” Another blow he wasn’t expecting, by the look on his face.

  His eyes glazed over. “Yeah? Because you know we could—,”

  Why did this reaction not surprise her? She interrupted him. “Maybe. But I don’t want to, you know, die to do it. So why don’t you work on finding me a loophole?” This flirting thing wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it would be. “But you already said you didn’t want to talk about your wife. So let’s talk about you while we get the DVD fired up.” Abstinence gave him a guileless smile. All males like to talk about themselves, or so her sister had been fond of saying. She was about to put all of that sage advice her sister had handed down to her in those midnight whisper sessions to use.

  8

  PERSEPHONE

  “Y ou can’t be here,” Persephone squeaked when she saw Eros coming up the stairs to her room. Holy balls, her mother would skin him like a rabbit and wear him like a winter coat. Demeter would have a two-headed epileptic cow if she knew Eros was not only in the house, but on his way up to see her. In her bedroom. She’d die of the horror and then she’d smite everything for miles. It would be nothing short of Chernobyl.

  “No, it’s okay. She’s the one who let me in.” Eros took another step to stand on the foyer.

  Persephone narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh. What kind of arrow did you shoot her with to get her to do that?” It would’ve had to have been one that knocked her out for oh, say the next year.

  “A really sharp one.” The corner of his mouth curved up in a smirk.

  Seriously, there would have to be something wrong with Demeter on a basic level to let a god in the house. “No, really. Is she okay? She must be sick or something.” Persephone stepped around him to go down the stairs, but he grabbed her wrist.

  “She’ll be okay, but she actually is kind of sick. Demeter is resting in her room.”

  “Oh no! Let go of me. I have to go see if she needs me.” She tugged at his grasp and continued down the stairs.

  “No, Persephone,” he admonished gently. “You don’t. You need to let her be on her own and you, you’ll come with me.”

  “Have you lost your mind? I can’t leave with you.”

  “I have her permission.” He said the last word as if it was a coveted sweet and it stopped her dead in her tracks.

  “You’re kidding?” Persephone’s eyes went wide. She knew she probably looked like a startled anime character, but she couldn’t help it. Demeter had told her shit would stick to the moon like peanut butter before she let some sex fiend god take her anywhere. Not that she thought Eros was a sex fiend. In fact, he’d been nothing but a resident of the friend zone the whole time she’d known him. He seemed to be comfortable there. Demeter had always told her gods would do anything to get into her knickers, even lurk in the friend zone until the time to strike was ripe.

  “Nope. I can take you out and about today and I told her about the picnic in Elysium.”

  “She must really be feeling horrible.” Persephone wrinkled her nose. “Wait, is she on her death bed or something?”

  Eros’ face was unreadable, but he shook his head. “She just knows I’m not going to pounce on you like any other number of gods would. She probably thinks I’m gay.”

  “No, you have to be something special. She knows Hermes is gay and she still wouldn’t let me go to a movie with him.”

  “That was down in the mortal world. Persephone, you’re beautiful. Men are as bad as gods. She didn’t trust Hermes could protect you. It’s the flying shoes.”

  “Then why wouldn’t she let me go have lunch at his house?” She practically stomped her foot. Persephone was still angry about that.

  “Because he’s shagging Hypnos, who is known to go both ways.”

  “I don’t understand why keeping me a virgin was so important anyway. I mean, Spring has to fornicate to give birth to the word, right? What’s so great about being untouched?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she just wanted better for you than what she got from Zeus.”

  Persephone grew quiet at that. She knew her mother had suffered because of her father. He was such an asshole. She didn’t know why all of the goddesses let him get away with it. They had all of this power, why didn’t they tighten his leash and jerk it around a few times when he got out of line? So he was King of the Gods. Well, so what?

  It was as if Eros could see her thoughts. He held up his hands in a deflective gesture. “Hey, I couldn’t do anything with him. Neither could my mother. So I don’t know what you expect any of the rest of them to do.”

  “It’s just… it pisses me off.”

  “You look like your mom when you make that face.”

  “Shut-up, I do not.” Elysium forbid she ever looked like her mother. Although, she had to admit that Demeter’s green hair was kind of cool.

  “You do. But it’s not a bad thing.”

  “What was that?” She studied him; apprehension and awareness were twin serpents coiled in her belly.

  “What was what?” Eros tried to look innocent.

  “That. The face you made talking about my— Oh. My. Gods. You’ve got it for my mother. That’s kind of icky.”

  “Why is it icky?” Eros asked as if he couldn’t fathom why she’d think it was icky he was crushing on her mother.

  “Oh, damn. You couldn’t even deny it, could you? Why? I really don’t want those images in my head.”

  “Have you ever looked at your mother? She’s a woman. She’s spent her existence caring for you, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a woman’s desires.”

  “Yeah, I’m the eternal toddler,” she snorted derisively. “I can hear it now. Sephone’s mom has got it goin’ on, she’s all that I want…” Persephone sang to the tune of Stacy’s Mom by Fountains of Wayne.

  “It’s not that bad, Persephone. Plus, I don’t have to tell you ‘you’re just not the girl for me’.” He laughed. “She needs a little help getting past that and everyone is too afraid of her wrath to do it. But I think this will help.” Eros pressed a cell phone into her hand.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She threw herself against him in a hug.
He kissed her chastely on the forehead.

  “Hurry up and get changed. We’ll go somewhere private where you can call him, okay?” Persephone got the impression he was herding her like he would a small child, but he’d been too kind and too good a friend for her to let it make her angry. If she didn’t want to be treated like a child, she shouldn’t still be acting like one.

  Persephone darted to her room and began flinging clothes everywhere. She didn’t know why she cared about how she looked; it wasn’t like Hades would be able to see her over the phone. Unless Eros had popped for one of those smart vid phones, but it was going to be hard enough to make that call as it was without worrying about her hair, her makeup, or if she looked fat on the screen.

  All of that aside, Persephone knew in her heart she’d wounded Hades to the very core. She’d taken his heart, something the Lord of the Underworld wouldn’t have easily surrendered. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but her leaving had cut her too.

  Persephone hadn’t understood it at the time when he’d sent her back to Demeter. He hadn’t really explained it to her. He’d hauled her topside and without even a goodbye, he’d left her there. He’d said it was because he loved her and she believed him. Not because her mother would kill the world of man, not because Zeus demanded her return. No, Hades couldn’t have given two shits less about any of that. Tartarus was a self-sustained community. There were enough souls to keep him in business forever and a day, regardless of what happened on Olympus.

  He’d done it because he’d thought she was unhappy, that she didn’t want him. But nothing could be further from the truth. Persephone had let her fear of him rule her choices for too long. In all of their time together, he’d frightened her more times than she could count, but he’d never hurt her.

  She’d give anything to have his arms around her again, for his harsh whisper in her ear and his hands on her flesh. She dreamt of him touching her, but instead of staying his hand, she surrendered to him. Before she could have any of that, she needed his forgiveness.

  While she didn’t want to hurt Demeter, it was the way of all living things to leave their nest and fly free to put down their own roots and grow—to form their own seeds and fling them out into the world. Persephone was ready to take that chance. She could only hope it wasn’t too late to take it with Hades. She’d been a child long enough. Persephone thought of Eros who’d been born a year after she had and he was a god grown. Even though her mother had been protecting her, she couldn’t help but feel Demeter had done her a grave disservice. Not all gods were Zeus.

  Persephone hadn’t even considered what she’d do if Hades didn’t forgive her. Truthfully, it didn’t matter. No matter what, she was going to Tartarus. If she had to throw herself on the steps of his castle and wait until he deigned she was worthy of redemption, she would. After all, he’d waited centuries for her. He’d not touched another female so long as she’d been under his roof. Gods, why hadn’t she seen the depth of his devotion? She’d been so utterly stupid to throw it away. Yes, then she’d been the spoiled child everyone thought her to be by playing with her toy until she broken it.

  Maybe if she could just tell him she loved him, it would be enough. It was selfish of her to hope for that, she knew. Persephone was aware she deserved every cruelty he could serve her and then some. She’d eat it all with a smile if it would get her back in his arms.

  She touched her fingers to her lips, remembering when they’d been swollen with his kisses. They’d been her first and would be her last. Persephone never wanted another kiss on her lips but his.

  Eros knocked on her door. “Hurry up.”

  “I’m coming!”

  “You’re not even breathing heavy.”

  “Shut-up, Eros.” Persephone laughed.

  “Listen,” he began as she opened the door. “I have to tell you something before you call him.”

  Dread slapped her in the face. Had he met someone else? Had he already forgotten her? No, that couldn’t be it. A god didn’t wait centuries for his would-be lover to say yes and then… Or maybe they did. Persephone strengthened her resolve. She had no right to be angry or hurt about anything he’d done to deal with the pain she’d given him. It was remembering that that would be the most difficult part.

  “My mother did something for him. Something I don’t know if he can come back from.”

  “What do you mean?” she cried out more loudly than she meant to.

  “Shh.”

  “Then tell me!”

  “She took his heart,” he said simply.

  “No, she couldn’t have. It’s mine,” Persephone argued.

  Eros smiled sadly. “He begged her, Persephone. The proud, dark Lord of the Underworld on his knees before the Goddess of Love in all her golden light. She took pity on him, his pain was devouring him. She took it beating from his chest and locked it away so nothing could ever hurt him like that again.”

  Persephone swallowed hard against the despair that threatened to strangle her. Was everything lost to her now? It didn’t matter. “I still have to try,” she said in a shaky voice.

  “I know you do. Your love for him is as bright as anything I’ve ever seen, Persephone. If anything could spark his heart back to life, I think it would be you. It’s not going to be easy though. His heart is gone, all he’s got left are shadows. When you light the dark places and the shadows are gone, what will be left?” Eros asked her softly. “Only hollow spaces. You’ll have to love him enough for both of you for awhile. Indifference will be kind compared to the hate that will burn inside of him when he begins feeling again. If he ever does.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought he would hate me first, if he had to.” Persephone knew she sounded pathetic, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Oh no, little one. Love and Hate are kissing cousins. Both take much passion, much of the soul. When there’s nothing there, you can’t have either.”

  “Can’t your mother just put it back? She took it, why can’t she put it back?” she cried and buried her face in Eros’ shoulder.

  “You know it doesn’t work that way. If you want him, you’re going to have to earn it, Persephone. Through fire, blood and tears. If you truly love him, you won’t let that stop you.”

  “It’s just, I had it before. Right in my hands and not only did I let go, I threw it away. I know it’s wrong to want to walk back to that point in time and hold on, but I can’t help it.”

  “Come on, we better go. You can only get cell service in Tartarus when the stars are in certain spots, so we have to get moving. You have to decide if you want to do this after all I’ve told you.”

  She pulled away from the embrace meant to soothe her. For some reason, it felt important to answer while she was standing on her own two feet, with nothing and no one else supporting her but her own strength.

  “Yes.” As soon as she said it, Persephone felt something heavy click into place around her. It was weighty like armor, thick like a geis, but was welcome like a vow. She knew for better or worse, she was bound to Hades for eternity.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going? Is there anywhere in Olympus that’s private?”

  “For matters of the heart, I think the grotto in my mother’s temple would appropriate. Plus it gets great reception.”

  “Thank you for doing this for me, Eros.”

  “I’m the God of Love. Did I have a choice?” He rolled his eyes.

  “You know you did. Thank you for being my friend.”

  “Of course, Persephone. I love you,” he said with ease.

  In Persephone’s limited experience, she knew he was the only god who could say that out loud and mean it, even to a friend. Demeter had told her gods didn’t say things like that and if they did, they meant it only until fluids had been swapped.

  “I love you too, Eros. Even if you are trying to get in my mother’s toga.”

  “She doesn’t even wear a toga.”

  “Semantics.”

 
“Which should always be clear when dealing with an immortal,” he corrected.

  “You sound like my mother.”

  “She’s not wrong about everything, you know.” Eros cast her a sly glance.

  “I know, but… gods, I need some space.”

  “I know. I think you’re going to get more of it than you bargained for, Persephone.”

  “Is that a be careful what you ask for sort of thing?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “You’re old for your years, Eros. You hand down advice like you’re a titan or something.” She rolled her eyes.

  “What’s the one thing people have the most trouble with in life? Men and gods?”

  “Love,” she replied as if reading from a script.

  “So, I do have a tiny bit of experience in the ways of these things.”

  “I know you do, but what happened to spontaneity? Did you ever think about simply grabbing my mother and planting one on her? I mean, if that’s what you want?” She screwed up her face in an expression that proclaimed she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting that, but this was her version of being supportive.

  “Advice from a self-proclaimed toddler?”

  “Yeah. Kids say the darndest things. Or what was that other one? From out of the mouths of babes?” she shot back.

  Eros made it a point to look her up and down. “I don’t think they meant that kind of babe.”

  “You’re not as innocent as you’d have my mother believe.”

  “Actually…” he shook his head. “Never mind. Are you ready?” Eros didn’t wait for her to answer, but willed their transport to his mother’s temple.

  9

  NYX

  “Thanatos!” she cried when she saw her oldest son lounging on her temple steps.

  “Hey, Ma.” He stood and endured her hug.

  “I thought you were working all week. Wasn’t there a natural disaster in South America?”

  “Wouldn’t you know it, it’s so cool. Red Cross showed up and the volunteers saved a bunch of people.”

  Nyx hadn’t seen him in what felt like a century. In fact, she almost started counting on her fingers to see if it had been that long. “I suppose you’re hungry. Fig cakes with cream cheese frosting?”