by Bella Klaus
“And your original wife?” I asked.
Exhaling a sharp breath, he ran his fingers through his hair. “You are the most persistent creature.”
“Since when was it considered unreasonable to ask questions?” I said. “Maybe your other women didn’t mind your wandering attention, but I won’t settle for anything but a hundred-percent fidelity from my husband.”
His brows rose. “You count yourself as mine?”
“Until I can find a way to be rid of you.” I turned Dami to the fashion show. “Look, Dami, some of the models are just like you.”
She gave me an enthusiastic meow.
Another knock sounded on the door, and Namara from the office stepped in with even more designers. For the next hour or so, the models glamoured to look like us paraded a range of outfits. I sat beside Namara, with Dami on my lap, who gave high-pitched meows whenever she found an outfit she liked.
Hades glowered at us from the love seat, resting his chin in his hands, and made dramatic sighs to telegraph the extent of his boredom.
At the end of the show, Namara clapped her hands together and stood. “That’s all we could arrange at such short notice. His Majesty has ordered every item shown in both your sizes.”
Dami raised her head, offering Hades a loud meow of thanks.
He rolled his eyes. “Now, will you consider my request?”
“One, I need a good night’s sleep. Two, you haven’t apologized—”
He hissed through his teeth. “I groveled at your feet.”
I placed both hands over Dami’s ears. “Nothing you said during that so-called groveling sounded apologetic.”
“Is that what you want?” he growled. “For me to say I’m sorry?”
“Not if your intention is to manipulate me into a deadly chase around the depths of Hell.” I clutched Dami to my chest. “Anyway, you heard the doctor. Dami is suffering from magical exhaustion and needs my help.”
Hades nodded toward Namara, who stood at the end of the sofa with her notepad and pen. “I know a capable imp who enjoys pussies. If you need a cat sitter—”
“She’s my best friend,” I snapped. “Not my pet.”
He inclined his head. “My apologies. I was mistaking you for a Queen of Hell. Apparently, I should have set my assessment of you to a spoiled brat trying to make a point.”
“Meow!” Dami said.
“That’s right.” I gave her a sharp nod. “You tell him.”
“She says she wants everyone to leave, so she can go to bed,” Hades drawled. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Meow?” she added.
“And she wants the phone she entrusted you for safekeeping.”
My shoulders sagged. So much for thinking Dami was helping me with Hades. I picked up the handset from where I had left it on the low table. “Oh.”
Dami placed her paw on the home screen, unlocked its security, and scrolled across the paws app.
Hades rose from his seat with a snarl. “I’ve just heard that Persephone has destroyed an entire village of the Asphodel Meadows with her plants.”
“Are the souls alright?”
He shook his head “In the time you’ve spent dithering over fripperies, the Goddess of Spring’s empty shell has exacted more damage than four oversized soulkins.”
My mind conjured up an image of the old man who had stitched hundreds of souls to his body, forming a ghastly quilt. He had been overpowered, reducing massive demons to blood and guts.
“Really?” I whispered.
“What are you going to do about it?” he snarled.
My skin tightened. He was trying to make me feel responsible for something that wasn’t even my fault? I picked up Dami, mobile phone and all, and walked around the back of the sofa. Around the side of the apartment’s kitchen area was a set of stairs that led to a mezzanine level that overlooked the tall windows. I strode toward it, not sparing him a backward glance.
“Kora,” he hissed.
I paused at the foot of the stairs and tilted my head to the side. “The more important question is why you’ve been sitting here, watching models parade in lingerie and swimwear, while your wife is supposedly tearing apart your kingdom?”
His growl made the fine hairs on the back of my head stand on end. “Why are you being so stubborn?”
I took the stairs two at a time. When I reached the top, I glowered down at the lower level. Hades stood by the loveseat, his gaze raised to meet mine.
“Maybe you should look at who is really being resistant here,” I said, my voice cold. “I’m not asking for much. Just a heartfelt apology. Answers. I also want to know what I am to you.”
He flashed his teeth. “Why?”
“Because you seem awfully fixated on a woman who is supposedly an empty shell.”
Hades exhaled an exasperated breath. “Is no your final answer?”
I clenched my teeth. Why wasn’t he listening to me? Now that Persephone was back in his life, Hades acted like I was no longer his only option.
My heart clenched, and I hugged Dami’s furry little body to my chest.
What if this was the last time I ever saw him again?
Chapter Six
The master bedroom was spacious, but I barely took in any of the details, being so exhausted from staying awake the entire night. The moment the side of my face rested on the silk pillow, I fell into a deep slumber.
Dami curled up to my chest in the same protective ball she’d employed in the leather container, but she woke up several times during the night to play with her phone. Each time I mumbled at her to return to bed, she would settle, only to be up again the next time I awoke.
I made a note to call Dr. Atallus and ask him if Dami was suffering from post-traumatic distress.
The next morning, I awoke to the sound of splashing and to sunlight streaming through my eyelids. I sat up and stretched, marveling at the curved wall of windows at the foot of my bed.
On the right of the room was a clawfoot tub large enough to accommodate two, which overlooked a different stretch of the river from the downstairs.
Two comfortable armchairs took up the space on the left, which were both positioned toward the window.
A human-looking Dami emerged from the depths of the water with a happy sigh. “I hope you don’t mind, but this bath is the best in the apartment.”
I yawned and stretched. “Have you explored the place already?”
She nodded and grinned. “It’s fabulous. And half our stuff has arrived from last night.”
I rubbed my eyes. “The clothes?”
“Yes, and the coffee shop just delivered all the food and drink for this evening’s party.”
My brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“A housewarming.” She tilted her head to the side. “Now that you’re a free woman with your own bachelorette pad, you need a celebration.”
“But everyone I know apart from you has betrayed me.” I ran my fingers through my scalp, trying to massage myself awake.
“You know Mera and Valentine?” she said. “And Macavity.”
I nodded. “Mera came to visit me in Hell. Do you really think someone as important as her would come?”
“Of course.” She leaned back in the tub and stretched out her leg. “And my old coffee shop is doing tonight’s catering. I can’t wait for all those wankers who thought I wasn’t good enough to operate the till to see where I’m living. They’re going to shit their tails.”
A giggle burst from my chest. What a peculiar image. I leaned forward, my heart thrumming with excitement at the thought of having guests. Who else could I invite? Captain Caria would have been my first choice, but she was firmly in the camp of Hades. I shook off those thoughts and focused on my one true friend, who looked like organizing the party was keeping her distracted from her ordeal with Mother and the coven.
“Is that what you were doing throughout the night?” I asked.
She lowered her leg into the water an
d gave me an eager nod. “It’s going to be the best party anyone in Supernatural London has thrown in a century.”
My eyes narrowed. “How many people did you invite?”
Dami waved her hand. “Only the classy ones. As your personal assistant, I have access to your online profile.”
“Wait.” I shook my head. “Why would I have a profile when I’ve never visited the Supernet?”
What she said next was a string of sentences pertaining to networks and other social-media-related terms that sounded like modern sorcery. It looked like Dami had set herself up as the buffer between me and the outside world. She had even gotten in contact with Namara, who was arranging Dami some office space.
“By the way.” She pointed in the direction of a door behind me and on the right. “I’ve hung everything up in your dressing room.”
I swung my legs out of bed and frowned. “Dami, you’re not my servant.”
She raised her narrow shoulders. “I know, but organizing and unpacking everything takes my mind off things.”
My chest tightened. “I’m really sorry about what the coven did to you—”
She raised a hand. “They did it, not you. When the time comes, I’ll scratch out their eyes and see how they like to be abused.”
I gave Dami a firm nod. “On that day, I’ll be right at your side, because we’ll punish them together.”
The door she had pointed toward led to a walk-in closet, at the end of which was another door that opened into a bathroom of white-and-silver mosaic tiles. After a quick shower, I returned to the dressing area and pulled open one of the drawers, which contained underwear from Le Scandale Lingerie.
All of the sets were fancy—either covered in lace, sequins, or sparkly fabric. One of the camisoles had attached to it a set of miniature angel wings. I shook my head, marveling at the beautiful purchases. Even the bras and knickers with comfortable designs came in bright colors.
The drawer below contained more practical items from Grace Van Oberon, but I selected a black bra with gold trim that was an exact match for my strawberry-blonde hair. It was paired with a lacy thong that showed off my generous ass, and a transparent robe that may as well have been a pair of lacy cuffs and a pretty hem.
I stepped back, fluffed out my hair, and giggled. It was beautiful, but utterly frivolous—the kind of outfit a woman could wear to seduce a Demon King.
“You look so pretty.” Dami stepped into my bathroom, clad in a luxurious robe and clutching a bottle of pink nail polish. “Hades is going to die when he sees you in that sexy outfit.”
My heart sank, and I gazed down at the counter. “He’s obsessed with his wife.”
She tilted her head to the side and frowned. “I heard all that stuff last night, but I didn’t understand. Aren’t you two married?”
I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled a long sigh. “Remember the trial?”
She hopped onto the counter and grimaced. “How could I forget?”
“Right.” I lowered myself onto the stool and opened her nail polish. “Hades didn’t tell anyone in the court he suspected I was Persephone. Instead, he arranged for us to gatecrash the masquerade ball—”
“How?” Dami asked.
I took her little hand and applied a thin coat of pink. “Remember that plant food you bought me?”
She nodded.
“Do you remember how you got it?” I painted the next nail.
Dami paused for a moment before answering. “A demon came to the coffee shop, saying it fell off the back of a truck.” She clapped her free hand over her mouth. “Please don’t tell me I fell for a scam?”
“Hades arranged for you to have the plant food.” I coated a third fingernail with the polish and blew. “Now that I think about it, don’t you think phoenix tears are a peculiar ingredient?”
She nodded and stared down at her fingers. “The demon said it was rare.”
“Yes,” I muttered. “There’s only one phoenix in existence, and that’s Queen Mera.”
Dami’s jaw dropped. “But she wouldn’t join forces with him.”
“No, but he could take the tears under false pretenses.” I completed the first hand and motioned for her to give me the other. “Hades knows not to tell her the truth. No sane person would hand over items to a Demon King that he’d use to lure a woman out of her house and trick her into marriage.”
“Oh.” She set down the nail polish and frowned. “What about that business with his wife, then? Can’t you just tell him you don’t want to be his mistress and to bugger off?”
Pausing, I raised my head to meet her curious green eyes. “Do you remember when I was questioning the butler?”
She shook her head. “I was still a bit dazed.”
I placed the bottle aside and gave her a tight hug. “Seriously, I’m so ashamed to be associated with those bitches, and I can’t tell you enough times that I’m sorry.”
Dami patted me on the back. “You’ve already said you’d help me get revenge. That’s enough for me,” she said. “But tell me about his wife.”
I lowered myself back to the stool, took her unpainted hand and applied the first coat of polish. First, I repeated the common elements to Hades’ and Pirithous’s stories and told her the Great Divide had torn Persephone apart and shattered her soul.
She bit down on her bottom lip. “I was in Hell around that time, but I remember everyone talking about a big disaster.”
“Hades somehow found her body,” I murmured. “And the coven had gathered all the pieces of Persephone’s spirit.”
Dami pulled back her hand and stared down at me through wide eyes. “So you really are Persephone?”
“A Frankenstein version of her,” I muttered. “Put together with scars. Persephone had plant powers, whereas I wield lightning.”
“Where does that come from, then?” she asked.
My mind drifted back to the statue of the tortured man, frozen for all time with a painful-looking erection. I shuddered. “Zeus, the Greek god of the sky and thunder.”
Her mouth formed a perfect O. “If you’re really her then why are you angry with Hades for having a wife? She’s still you, right?”
I bowed my head and scowled. That was an excellent question. Some women would think it was romantic that he had found his broken wife, preserved her body in the hope that she would awaken, and then found her other half, but I didn’t.
My gaze met Dami’s and she raised her brow, prompting me to answer.
A long sigh whooshed out of my lungs. “He was dishonest—”
“Maybe he didn’t want to muddy up the argument,” Dami said. “If he told the court you were really his long-lost wife, they might have spent a lot longer bickering over your true identity.”
“True.” I inclined my head. “And I suspect he told me I was Persephone without really believing it.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
I took her first hand and brushed a second coat of polish on the now-dry layer. “As soon as Persephone woke up, he lost interest in me.”
Dami glanced around the luxurious dressing room, her eyes narrowing. “This doesn’t look like what guys do when they’ve finished with a woman.”
A ball of frustration welled through my insides, pushing down my lungs, my stomach, and my throat. I sounded unreasonable, but how could I truly believe that I was two people when my counterpart attacked like she wanted me dead?
“Hades only claimed she was an empty shell,” I muttered. “Pirithous implied that there were parts of my soul he and the coven couldn’t find.”
“Which explains why they had to patch you up with your dad’s magic.”
“Yes.” I finished coating the first hand and beckoned for her to give me the second.
“There’s something else,” she said.
I scowled. “Persephone burst into my bedroom with her plants, and his first instinct was to send me away. He’s only pursuing me because she ran out on him and is rampaging through Hell.
”
She shook her head. “Wasn’t he protecting you? I don’t understand.”
“Persephone attacked me twice,” I said, my voice soft. “Hades wants to use me as bait.”
“He wants to put you in danger?” she said with a huff. “That bastard.”
“Yes, he is.”
The doorbell rang, and my heart skipped.
Dami’s eyes bulged, and she slid off the counter. “Do you think that’s him?”
“What time is it?”
She glanced down at her phone. “Five-fifteen.”
“Bloody hell.” My eyes bulged. “All this time, I thought you were up all night. How did you let me sleep away the day?”
Dami gave my shoulder a gentle pat. “It was a long night for us both. We went to bed just before sunrise.”
The bell rang again, and my gaze darted toward the door that led to the bedroom. “Why’s he ringing the bell when he could teleport?”
“Maybe he’s being polite.” She wiggled her shoulders. “Sashay out there and show that Demon King what he’s missing.”
I took another glance at myself in the mirror, making sure my waist looked trim, my boobs bouncy, and that I’d put the thong on straight.
“You look perfect.” Dami gave me a pat on the backside. “Go.”
I jogged out into the bedroom and rushed to the stairs, taking in all the changes the coffee shop had made to the living area. The caterers had already set up the snack table, a wet bar, and the beginnings of an ice sculpture. Instruments for a jazz band were already placed on a stage, making my heart flip with excitement.
This was going to be the hottest housewarming ever, just like the parties people had on television.
The doorbell rang once more, and the pulse between my legs pounded. How would Hades react to seeing me in this outfit?
I slowed my steps, patting down my warm cheeks, and paused in front of the door. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, spreading across my chest and threatening to escape.
How should I react to him? If I smiled, he would think I had forgiven his lies, and then he’d continue withholding information. If I demanded an apology or an explanation for his behavior, he’d only ignore my request.
