by Alisha Rai
“Yes.” Persephone jumped up and, to his surprise, stood in front of him, her stance battle ready. “What is that? It feels like a storm, or…”
“Lightning,” he finished grimly, and stepped in front of her, stopping her when she tried to scurry to his side. “Stay.”
“I’m not a pet.”
“No, I wouldn’t be quite so worried about a pet.”
“What’s going on?”
“Get ready. Zeus is about to break a treaty as old as time and piss me off all at the same time.” He had beefed up his barriers since Persephone had arrived, but apparently not enough.
A little hand patted him on his shoulder, as if he were a horse in need of gentling. “Don’t go losing your temper, now. Let’s talk to him first.”
“I suppose I should serve him tea too—”
A flash of bright light cut him off, and his brother was standing before him, looking fit and respectable in a three-piece suit. “Brother!” Zeus cried, and opened his arms wide, like he actually expected a fucking hug.
“You have one minute,” Hades said softly, “to explain why the fuck you’re down here, and it better be a good-ass reason to intrude in my world.”
Zeus had the temerity to look hurt. “I can’t believe you don’t show me any hospitality, big brother.” He glanced around, his eyes widening. “Is this your study? It’s a little dark, isn’t it? But then, you always were partial to dark colors.”
No, actually, he had loved yellows and greens and blues. The unbidden thought popped into his head, a reminder of the times as a young god that he had reveled in wandering in the clouds. It was only after a few centuries down here that he had come to appreciate the darker shades. “You think I’m joking? I’ve only just forgiven you for piercing my world to send Persephone and interfering with my powers. Now you dare to break our vow to one another and barge into my world in person?”
With each word his voice rose. Persephone started patting him on the back. The attempt to soothe him was in vain.
Zeus’s face chilled, his eyes growing arctic cold. “Watch how you speak to me, Hades.”
“Fuck you.”
“I can level this whole world with little more than a thought, you know.”
Aaaand, this was why they kept to their own worlds. His temper spiked to molten-lava levels. “You so much as breathe on my domain, I will use your clouds for fucking target practice.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Persephone ducked out from under his arm and stood in front of him, one hand resting securely on his chest. “Let’s all calm down here, shall we? Why don’t we see what Zeus wants first?”
“Persephone.” Insult forgotten, smile wide, Zeus moved to hug her, brows rising when Hades growled and jerked her back against his chest. “Ah. That’s how it is, is it? No worries, Hades, I have no lustful intentions toward our little peony.”
“Bullshit. You have lustful intentions toward every female.”
“Well, not every female.” He considered that. “There was this crone…”
“Why. Are. You. Here?” Hades asked at the same time Persephone said, “Zeus, what do you want?”
“Oh. Yes. Demeter sent me.”
An unwelcome jolt. His arms tightened around Persephone. “What?”
Zeus examined his buffed fingernails. “She’s despondent over Persephone being gone. She’s telling everyone that Hades here abducted and raped her.”
“What?” Persephone shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell her that you sent me here for protection?”
“I did.” He scowled. “I think.”
Hades really didn’t care what anyone thought about his reputation, but his heart warmed when Persephone stiffened. “What do you mean, you think? His character’s being assassinated for no reason.”
“Sweetheart, Hades doesn’t really have a character. Anyway, she’s so unhappy, she’s completely neglected the harvest.”
“But the humans will starve.”
“Mmm. Lots of them already have.”
“I’ve only been here for a few months…”
“A few months our time, chickie. It’s been, what, about nine months mortal time? Demeter’s pretty much been roaming the world, wailing about her baby. She won’t lift a finger to do any actual work.”
“Oh no…” Persephone turned in Hades’s arms. He tried to relax them, to let her go, but the dread in his belly only made him hold her tighter. “I have to go to her, Hades. I can’t let all those people suffer.”
“I’m so sorry, Persephone, but you can’t go back,” Zeus said, sounding almost bored.
“Surely the danger has passed.”
“The danger? Oh, yeah, the other gods. Yeah, there’s, uh, no threat anymore.”
Hades narrowed his eyes.
“But you must have eaten or drunk something while you’ve been here. You probably didn’t know this, but that means you must stay here…forever!” He raised his arms high with the last word and punctuated it with a thunderclap.
They both stared at him. “I didn’t eat anything. I knew what the consequences of that would be.”
Zeus lowered his hands, his brow crinkling. “You did?”
She nodded.
He looked at Hades, confusion in his gaze. “And you didn’t try to trick her?”
Hades shook his head slowly. No. But oh, how he wished he had.
Persephone rubbed his jaw, and he wanted to close his eyes to savor these moments, what he knew were the last touches he’d ever feel from her. “I have to go, Hades. I can’t stay here while innocents suffer,” she whispered.
No, she couldn’t, and he wouldn’t expect her to. If he spoke, his voice would crack, and he couldn’t afford to show weakness in front of his power-hungry brother, so he dipped his head in acknowledgement.
Her eyes were wet as they searched his, and he had to glance away for fear he would also break down. He allowed her to lead his head down and press a brief, chaste kiss against his lips. Her fingers followed the path of her lips and brushed his mouth. She turned in a flurry and addressed Zeus as she walked quickly to the door. “I need to pack a few things. Please wait for me here.”
Hades watched her go, knowing that he would replay the sight of her leaving him in his mind for centuries to come.
The silence was absolute after he left, until Zeus let out a long sigh. “You fucked that up, brother.”
There was no energy left to snarl at the other god. Hades walked to his armchair and sank down into it, feeling old and tired.
Zeus sat in Persephone’s chair—how had she made it her own in such a short time?—and materialized a bottle of ambrosia and a goblet. “You look like you need this.”
“Yes.” Hades rolled his head against the back of the chair and accepted the wine. “There never was a troupe of horny gods, was there?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
Zeus didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Because the Fates saw it, and it was taking you two too damn long to get together.”
“The Fates saw…”
“You and Persephone. Your lives…” He wound his fingers together. “They’re intertwined.”
“Usually you don’t give a fuck what the Fates say.”
“I do when they tell me it was…what was it? Vitally critical for the cosmic balance that you two come together.”
“Vitally critical?”
“Yeah. Heavy stuff. They finally begged me to do something.”
“No one begs you to do anything. You’re selfish to the bone, Zeus.”
A flush covered the god’s face. “To be honest, I wouldn’t be averse to having Persephone as far from Olympus as possible. She’s a sweet child, but that power…”
A flash of pride went through Hades, that it was his Persephone inspiring that note of jealous reverence. Before he remembered that she wasn’t his, of course. He studied the amber liquid in the goblet he held. “She doesn’t know who her parents are. Do you?” Once, the question had been vitally important
, but now it was simply a way to think of something other than her impending departure.
As cagey as Zeus was, he was also an incurable office gossip. “I suppose since you two are finis, I can tell you. She has no parents.”
“Parthenogenesis.” The asexual reproduction wasn’t completely uncommon.
“Kind of. She was created from a shard of Gaia’s power.”
Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. Gaia was the Earth. It fit. “I see.”
“Demeter also contains a lesser shard, which is why the two of them draw strength from one another.”
“Why haven’t you told her?”
“We don’t want her to get all full of herself, now do we?”
No, you don’t want her to know her own strength. Bastard.
“Don’t say anything to her.”
“Of course not,” he lied. He’d find some way to let her know the truth. “I knew there was a more selfish reason for you sending her down here. Good deeds, even for cosmic balance purposes, are not your usual schtick.”
Zeus couldn’t even try to look offended. “You know how our kind is.”
“What about the whole, don’t think about keeping her with you, the Earth needs her line?”
“It wasn’t a line. As you can see, the Earth does need her. However, more pertinent to me, doing this put the Fates at my mercy. So I figured, I’ll drop Persephone down here, keep you from sending her back for a while, bada-bing, you’ll somehow trick her into staying forever, so when Demeter does her expected tantrum, I can say, so sorry, Persephone’s stuck.” Zeus shook his head. “I didn’t count on your overdeveloped conscience. I have no idea what this means.” He frowned. “Maybe this time was all that the Fates meant for you to have.”
Only a few months of knowing her? That was cruel. Yet the Fates never pretended to be kind. He tried to concentrate on the rest of Zeus’s words. “I don’t have an overdeveloped conscience.”
“Sure you do. Way more than me.”
“That’s because you have no conscience.”
“I do too. For instance, it’s always bothered me that I cheated.”
“What?”
Zeus leaned back and propped his ankle on his knee, utterly relaxed. “All those eons ago. I cheated. When we drew lots for who got what kingdom, I fixed it so you would get the Underworld.”
Hades stared at his brother. Ordinarily, he would have blown up at this revelation of trickery and all of its implications, but his heart was too heavy. Zeus had always known the best times to deliver bad news. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it was the most important.”
“What?”
“Look, there’s my place, the sky, but I’m a pretty hands-off kind of guy. The mortals on Earth are all there for such a short time, so I don’t have to really do anything but keep the others up in the clouds happy and in line. I knew I’d do well in the sky. I knew Poseidon wouldn’t be able to handle anything more demanding than fish or maybe a mermaid, so I made sure he got the water.”
Hades opened his mouth, but then closed it again. The last time Poseidon had talked to him, he’d kept calling him bruh. He was well suited for the easy, aqueous lifestyle.
“But then there was the Underworld. This is where the mortal’s eternal soul goes, man. It required someone who was just and decent and hardworking. You were the only one of us who showed a glimmer of any potential. So I made sure you got it.”
“Don’t flatter me.”
“I’m not, damn it. Do you think I like feeling like I’m lacking in something? Seriously?” Zeus looked sober for the first time that Hades could ever recall. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and Persephone. I guess I had hoped that over the years you’d gotten so desperate… Well, never mind. I figure you’ll be firming up your world now so I won’t be able to pierce it again.”
“Yes.” Now that Zeus had come through physically, it would be easier to see where the weakness in his defenses existed. Though he didn’t want to do a thing. He wanted to rip down all the barriers so anyone could come in, so Persephone would find her way back. That previous territoriality was gone, as if it had never existed.
But he wasn’t the only one who resided here, and he had a whole kingdom of souls to protect and keep safe. So the barrier would stay up, bigger and badder than before, particularly from his meddling little brother.
As if he was reading his thoughts, Zeus sighed. “Very well. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get Persephone.”
Hades couldn’t speak as Zeus left, his heart too heavy to allow anything as mundane as words to leave it.
Persephone couldn’t seem to stop crying, though she knew that there was little her tears could actually accomplish.
She’d materialized a suitcase, but all she had put in so far was the black rose Hades had given her from Tartarus, still as fresh and velvety as the day he’d conjured it. She cradled it to her cheek. How could she leave him?
Sure, there were things she didn’t love about the Underworld itself. She missed her meadow, and sunshine, and fresh air. But it wasn’t all bad here…because here had Hades.
She allowed the rose to soak in her tears and finally, with a sigh, got to her feet. She ignored the suitcase and her open closet—she could materialize any garment she wished, thanks to Hades. She drifted to her dresser and placed the rose on it, prepared to leave it behind as well.
“Don’t cry.”
She sniffed and turned to find Zeus in the door. Lines of distress marred his otherwise boyishly handsome face. She’d always liked this male, particularly when he’d allowed the rumor to spread that she was his daughter, giving her some extra protection when she’d been a powerless goddess. She didn’t need that protection now. “Is it time, then?”
“It is.” Zeus hesitated. “I need to get something off my chest. Especially since you’ll learn the truth as soon as we get back.”
Intrigued, she motioned for him to continue.
“There never was any horde of horny gods after you. Well, of course, there are always amorous gods, many of whom would love to get their hands on you, but there was never any plot, per se. So there’s no need for you to be scared to return.”
A pounding started in her skull. “Wait…so why did you send me here?”
As he told her, her anger mounted steadily, until her vision was covered in a red haze. “So let me get this straight,” she said with admirable calm. “You played with two people’s lives because you wished to curry the favor of the Fates?”
“That makes it sound cheap. Hey, where did that ivy come from?”
Her previous liking for the god vanished, and her temper snapped. A nervous shout ripped from his chest when a thick vine burst up from the ground and wrapped around him from knee to neck. “Now, Persephone, I like being tied up as much as the next guy, but…” She let him struggle a little bit, and she knew he was trying to break the hold of the greens. She was as surprised as he was when he stopped, obviously unable to. A dark emotion tightened his face. “You don’t know what you’re playing with, child.”
Fire. Or lightning, to be more exact. “You don’t know what you’re playing with, Zeus. You think you can jerk me around? That I’ll lie down and allow you to drag me from world to world?”
“If you had eaten something here, I wouldn’t be able to drag you anywhere, damn it. And it’s not like it’s even too late now. Grab a bite, and I can leave you here.”
“You know very well that if I stay here, Demeter will make innocent people suffer. I’d never be able to stand for that.”
He jutted out his lip. “Well, I can’t help you. As soon as I see you out, Hades will make the security so tight around this place, I’ll never be able to ferry you back and forth. And no other god would have the power to do as I’ve done. Especially not a noob like you.” He said it simply, with no conceit.
She tilted her head and considered his words. “This noob has you immobilized, Zeus. I think I can manage quite a bit.” She swept
back to the dresser and grabbed the black rose. As she left the room in a jog, she made sure that the ivy would release the god after about twenty minutes, long enough for her to have some alone time with Hades.
After all, she didn’t want to totally piss Zeus off.
Chapter Eight
Hades wasn’t in his sitting room where she’d left him, and she was out of breath by the time she tracked him down to his formal receiving room, where he was conferring with Cerberus. Their conversation terminated when she came in. The pain in his gaze made her want to howl in agony. Every ounce of his sadness multiplied her own.
He dismissed Cerberus with a wave, and the dog paused as it passed her and formally bowed all three heads. Middle spoke. “I’m sorry to hear you are leaving, my lady. We will greatly miss you.”
“Don’t go, Persephone,” Bob wailed.
She smiled through her torment and patted the dear pup’s heads, even the silent killer on the right who leaned into her touch. “Please don’t worry, Cerberus, this isn’t goodbye. I’ll be back,” she said, loud enough for Hades to hear.
He lifted his head, a frown knitting his brow.
Cerberus bowed again and left, and Persephone wasn’t sure whether it believed her or not. The door closed on Bob’s disconsolate sobs. She crossed over to Hades slowly, some of her confidence falling away as she studied his face. It was wiped clean of emotion now, so impassive she might have imagined his previous heartache. “You haven’t left yet.”
“You knew that. You would feel it when I did.”
He glanced down at his hands. “Yes, I would feel it.”
“I don’t have a lot of time, because Zeus is probably really mad I trapped him in a vine.”
“You…what? Why?”
“Why isn’t important. He made me angry so I…you know. Immobilized him.”
“And it worked? He couldn’t get free?”
She tried not to preen under the obvious admiration in his tone and face. “Ahem. Yes. Anyway. He’ll be free soon, and then he’ll take me away. You know that none of us have any choice about me going back.”
She didn’t mean for it to be a question, but he nodded anyway. “Yes.”
