by RM Virtues
“Why did you want to meet me anyway?” she suddenly asks.
Truly, Hades hasn’t allowed himself to ask that question much less answer it, leaving the blame to Dionysos without a second thought. Now he bides his time with the contents of his glass and a glance toward the flashing lights on the other side of the window. Once his glass is empty, he sets it down and shrugs his broad shoulders.
“I told you,” he says at last, deciding upon the simple answer. “You were amazing out there, and Dio insisted I meet you. I trust his judgment.”
“As you should. He’s sort of a genius. Or a mad scientist.”
“The latter is accurate, I’d say.” A pause, and then, “And why did you agree to come up and have a drink with me? Even after all those tales you’ve heard.”
“Are you kidding? It’s because of all those tales. It’s like seeing the minotaur in the flesh.”
“So you’ve debunked the myth then.”
“Mm. Are you disappointed?”
“No.” It’s the easiest answer he’s ever given. “Feels kind of liberating actually. Are you?”
“What, disappointed?” He nods. She shakes her head. “I mean, you don’t have sharp teeth or horns or anything like that, which I do feel some type of way about, but I wouldn’t call it disappointment.”
“That’s fair. Are you going to run and tell all of your friends now?”
“Of course not. Who would believe me?” She sells it the best she can before softening again. “Besides, I think it’s more fun to have a secret of my own.”
“I think we can agree on that. -Though, if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend you want to impress, I’d completely understand.”
She snorts. “I don’t have the time for anything like that, but I appreciate the explicit permission. Maybe it’ll come in handy someday.”
“I hope it does.”
He’s underestimating her. He can feel it in his gut. Beneath all that conservative intrigue is a raw passion, which he’d stood witness to only an hour ago. He’s hungry for it, and while she’s tucked it away beneath a form-fitting gown and an unassuming disposition, the scent lingers in the air. It is not often that Hades feels possessive, but right now, he wants to lay claim to that passion. At the very least, he wants access, and he has yet to figure out how to earn it. Or how far he’s willing to go to do so.
At the moment, he would say quite far.
Before he can lean into that though, the door behind them opens, and Thanatos storms in with a look of grim determination on his face. Hades can tell by the knit of the other man’s brow that if he were to pull his phone out right now, he would have multiple missed calls and texts from his friend. Standing, he meets him a few feet from the table, and Thana speaks against his ear.
“Tartarus is on lockdown,” he hisses, and Hades’ blood runs cold.
“Since when?” he shoots back, turning his head to look at Thana as best he can.
“A couple of hours ago. Full red list.”
Hades is quiet for a moment, warring with the information he’s just been given before he remembers where they are. Turning back to Persephone, who stares at them with unabashed curiosity in her eyes, he manages a tight smile as he approaches her. She seems a million miles away now, an oasis he can never reach, but he tries anyway.
Leaning down, he speaks in her ear.
“I’m sorry, I have something - urgent to attend to.” He can hardly obscure his disappointment. “Can I - May I get your number from Dionysos?”
She seems to contemplate it for a moment before nodding. Then she says, “But don’t feel too obligated. We’re busy people, and I can’t make this a habit.”
He certainly hadn’t expected that. Not that she isn’t entirely correct. They are busy people, and he is about to be much busier it seems. To think he could ever make this a habit is a foolishness he cannot afford. Nonetheless, he wets his lips as the disappointment grows to an overwhelming capacity, but he chokes it down and straightens. She doesn’t look up at him.
“Of course. —Thank you for humoring me. Have a good night, Persephone, and - I wish you the best of luck here. If you need anything, we will be happy to provide it.”
He turns swiftly on his heel and follows Thana out of the box, wrestling with every urge to look back.
4
Persephone
Persephone stalks into her room, cursing herself under her breath as she tosses her keys on the bedside table, nearly knocking the lamp to the floor. Her words have haunted her since leaving Elysium, crawling across her skin and making her cringe. I can’t make this a habit. Who fucking says that? It doesn’t take a genius to realize how it had come off, and even once she’d realized it, she hadn’t bothered to try and explain. It had been cold, cruel, and particularly misleading. She’d made Hades, leader of the Underworld and an absolute gentleman, believe that she didn’t want to make conversations with him a common occurrence. First of all, it’s a bold-faced lie, and second of all, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Stupid,” she groans, throwing herself on her bed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She could tell by his demeanor that he had been appalled despite taking it in stride. Worse yet, he looked almost… sad. It certainly hadn’t been anger though, and she swears she would have preferred anger. There isn’t much she can do about it now though, and in reality, while it may have been a lie, it was for the best. This was only her first show. She needs to focus on building on that success. Calliope and the entire cast are counting on her, and she has enough trouble with Zeus as it is. While she doesn’t think Hades is working against her in Zeus’s name, she still can’t be adding anything else to her plate, certainly not a fucking schoolgirl crush on the leader of the Underworld. No matter how sexy and smart and intriguing he is, no matter how vividly the warmth of his mouth still lingers against her ear now or how clear the sound of his laughter still rings in her mind or… Shit.
It takes her hours to fall asleep.
It takes her days to wash off her shame.
The good thing is that naturally, a successful show doesn’t allow for relaxation. In fact, it demands the exact opposite. Morning workouts and afternoon rehearsals take up most of Persephone’s schedule, the rest of it spent scrounging up enough rest to get through it all. On the days where they have a show, Calliope allows lighter rehearsals in the morning hours, but Persephone still persists with her own routine, all of it demanding and all of it a dream. The price of success is not at all unreasonable, and every show is as rewarding as the last. While the standing ovations are a beautiful bonus, she’s simply happy to be on the stage. There has never been a time in her life when she could not find sanctuary there, dancing amidst the silks before they lift her into the air, far away from anything and anyone who would bring her harm. While her more childish fears have been shed, this subtle discomfort in the world manages to make its presence known every now and again. Therefore, tired as she is, she loves every minute of it, but the fatigue always manages to catch up.
It’s two weeks before she actually gets to sleep in. At least, she’s supposed to get to sleep in. Instead, her phone is blaring on the nightstand for the third time in as many minutes, and this time, it manages to rouse her. She reaches for the device if only to shut it off before rolling over with a groan.
While Calliope had set her up with an apartment in the Styx District close to the theatre, Persephone still spent most of her nights at Aphrodite’s. That isn’t to say she hadn’t been just as impressed with the district as she’d been with its leader. She had always imagined the Underworld as some cavernous place, the stuff of nightmares where beasts lurked and smoke billowed from the streets themselves. It’s nothing like that. While the architecture there is much sharper and more unforgiving than the rest of Khaos Falls, it wasn’t filled with smog and rats. Its streets are just as impeccable as Hades in his expensive suits and just as striking to look at. Many of the buildings are a stark obsidian or a deep cre
am, and there isn’t much color to be found apart from the deep purple insignia sporting a full-face helmet and plume that denotes Hades’ ownership, but the place still manages to find its charm. Persephone likes it a lot, but she still can’t manage to get comfortable. Whether it’s her mother or Zeus or something else entirely, she cannot pinpoint it. She just knows that she sleeps better in Aphrodite’s house. The lavish estate in the Lush District is the closest thing to home Persephone has now.
Her phone rings again, and she knows who it is. She also knows he won’t stop calling until she’s answered. Growling her frustration, she reaches over and snatches the phone up, answering the call blindly.
“I’m sleeping,” she grumbles.
“Hey, beautiful,” Zeus’s voice assaults her ear, and she flinches. “How’s my girl?”
“How’s your wife?”
He sucks his teeth, stewing for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice has risen a few octaves, and it’s evident that he’s restraining his annoyance. At what exactly is anyone’s guess. Persephone likes to keep those options stocked to capacity to the best of her ability.
“What’s this I hear about you down in the Underworld so much lately?”
A lazy smile stretches over her face. Ah. “We have a residency down there.”
“Spending some time in Elysium too, I hear.”
That’s what she’d expected. Granted, she’d only been to Elysium twice since the night she met Hades, and it had only been to make up for missing the first celebration. Telling Dionysos no is an exercise in resolve, and Persephone doesn’t have much of that when it comes to the younger man. His excitement is contagious. Nevertheless, Zeus’s curiosity only proves what she already knows. He’s still watching her, whether he’s in town or not.
“Is that why you’re calling?” she asks with a yawn.
He huffs in indignation. “I’m calling because I just got back into town, and I’m already hearing all this—”
“You wouldn’t have to hear anything if you minded your own business.”
“What are you doin’ down in Elysium?”
“Nothing that concerns you, and if that changes, I will let you know myself, Zeus.”
“Perseph—”
“I have a show tonight, and I need my rest, so I'm gonna go.”
Before he can get another word out, she cuts the call and turns down her ringer. Then she rolls over and tries to find some more sleep. It doesn’t come quickly.
She knows she’d made a mistake trusting him four years ago. Albeit at the time, she had been willing to do anything to get away from her mother, and more than that, to go to Terpsichore’s school, Zeus’s school. Plus, she and Zeus had become friendly in the months prior when he’d started to attend performances in the community theatre. That’s where he’d found her. He’d really sold how impressed he was too, but she’s learned by now that Zeus has an unmatched talent for selling bullshit.
When he’d offered her a place for the next semester on a full scholarship, of course it sounded too good to be true. Aphrodite had said it, Adonis had said it, and she had said it to herself a thousand times. Still, it seemed like the only way. Aphrodite had only just crawled out of the ruin of her father’s house and had no means to help her, and Adonis was more interested in living out his own dreams than allowing her to chase hers. Breaking up with him didn’t stop him from expressing his disappointment in every choice she made thereafter, especially when she took Zeus’s charity. Once Aphrodite came around though, his disdain and Demeter’s inevitable wrath may have done more to persuade her than anything else, and at the time, she truly believed Zeus wanted to help.
He had admitted that he wanted to see a little rebellion against Demeter, but he’d made her swear not to tell anyone of his role in her scholarship. He hadn’t even put his name on the paperwork, and her naive ass took that to mean that he wasn’t going to use it to cause discord in her mother’s district. Now, she knows better. Zeus doesn’t do anything for anyone except Zeus, and what he demanded now was far beyond anything she was willing to do. She wasn’t going to be anyone’s mistress, not even the king of Khaos Falls.
Persephone manages a few more hours of sleep before she climbs out of bed and into a hot shower. She lets the water wash away as much of her fatigue as possible before she finds her mind wandering. It wanders to the show tonight, to Calliope, to Dionysos, and… to Hades. Always to Hades.
She hadn’t seen him at any of the shows the last two weeks, and if he had come, he hadn’t hung around after, nor had he called or texted her. She imagined he must be busy. Or he’d heeded her foolish words and was now keeping his distance. Regardless, understanding does not automatically breed acceptance. Her disappointment had been all but a physical entity the first show after their little chat. Aphrodite had been forced to scold her for being so moody. Forgive her though. This beautiful man with a beautiful mind had treated her to drinks in his private skybox, giving her his full attention and showing genuine interest in her work, in her. Few had ever done that, and with such sincerity that it lingered long after the words themselves. Then he’d just… disappeared, and again, he has her questioning if he exists at all.
She splashes her face with water before shutting the shower off and reaching out for her towel. She can’t be twisting herself up over Hades, over anyone for that matter. The show has been going exceptionally well, packing the Pantheon each night, but they can’t let up now. They’re only a third of the way through their residency, but only increased demand will ensure their stay is continually extended right through to another. She can only hope Zeus doesn’t come tonight. She simply cannot handle the absence of one brother and the presence of the other, especially when the other is Zeus.
“You get some rest finally?” Aphrodite asks, sliding a smoothie across the counter as Persephone enters the kitchen. “You were looking rough, girl.”
“You tell me then,” Persephone shoots back.
Aphrodite gives her a once over before shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah, you look a little better.”
“Thank you.” She takes a generous drink of the smoothie before speaking again. “You comin’ tonight?”
“I might drop by Elysium after, but I’ve got a meeting with Hephaestus tonight.”
Aphrodite looks disgusted, and Persephone has to hide her smirk. She isn’t entirely sure what Aphrodite’s issue is with the arms dealer. She’s not even sure Aphrodite knows herself, but it’s always fun to poke at. That is until she remembers that Hephaestus is Hades’ nephew, and then her mind is on him and his stupid, charming smile again. Fuck. She shakes the thought away.
“A meeting?” Persephone hisses, wiggling her eyebrows. “Oh, I bet.”
“Hush up, nasty. You know I can’t stand that man. It is a meeting. And really, it’s Eros’ meeting. He wants to put a couple - investments over at one of the dens. They’ve been getting some ugly threats over the warehouse we cleared out last week.”
“Damn. I guess you couldn’t stay a nameless vigilante forever.”
“I never thought I could. I’m just worried about those girls. Every time we break up one of these trafficking rings, two more pop up in its place. Zeus won’t even take a meeting to discuss city security, which is what we need. He only cares if his shit is protected.”
“Not to mention he’s a dog himself. For all you know, he makes money off it too.”
“Ain’t that the truth. But it’s cool. I’ll keep doin’ what I've been doin’. No sense worrying about shit I can’t change. I’ll focus on what I can.”
She doesn’t know how Aphrodite does it. While Persephone’s been forever fleeing from the idea of running her mother’s district one day, Aphrodite has made it so that it’s as if Oceanus had never existed at all. From changing the name of the district to deconstructing its very foundation, she’s made the place her own, a safe haven for anyone who could ever need it. Many saw her as simply something to be gawked at and fantasized about. Others knew she was to be w
orshipped and respected, but Persephone knew the younger woman was so much more than any one idea. She doesn’t know if she would have made it through her own transition —medical or otherwise— without Aphrodite, even with her mother’s blessing, the one blessing Demeter’s ever truly given her.
Then again, Demeter had always said that while a son overshadows his mother, a daughter reflects her, so that blessing likely isn’t entirely selfless.
“Maybe you could - talk to Hades about it,” Persephone now suggests, looking down at her cup.
“Mhm.” She can feel Aphrodite’s smug look on her. “Don’t come up in here all sad and shit tonight either, actin’ like a teenager with all that sighin’ and groanin’.”
Persephone rolls her eyes. “I was trying to help you! And I have not been sighin’ and groanin’. I’m just - it’s whatever.”
“Hey, you told the man to get scarce.”
“I did not!” Aphrodite raises her brows, and Persephone withers. “I mean, not exactly like that.”
“You should be happy. He listens. Unlike somebody.”
“Ugh.” Persephone shakes her head. “Don’t remind me.”
“And to be fair, with Zeus out of town and that whole thing going on with Tartarus, Hades no doubt has to hold it all down, on top of worrying Zeus is gonna do something stupid before he gets back.”
“Oh, he’s back.”
Aphrodite perks up, her glare back. “You talked to him?”
“He called me all morning. It wasn’t a long conversation though. I hung up.”