“What’re you doing?” he whispered, his brow furrowed, “You have to be careful here! This place is dang—”
“Shhhh!” I hissed, pulling him close. “I thought I heard someone.”
He looked around. “Don’t worry. It’s just the gardener.” He pointed to a stooped and wizened figure burdened with a pair of enormous hedge clippers.
My heart jumped into my mouth.
Arkady Romanov!
He looked just as I remembered, old and frail, but he moved around the garden with ease, hauling the shears. He cautiously approached what looked like a perfect tree with pink and yellow flowers. He hesitated for a moment before reaching up with the clippers and snapping off a low-hanging branch. The tree shook, and one of the pink flowers morphed into something that looked like a mouth filled with rows and rows of jagged teeth.
Like a monster in a bad horror movie, it darted at Arkady and he quickly pulled out a spray bottle with some pukey-colored liquid in it. He spritzed the shark-flower’s petals frantically, and, cursing at it, gave it a vicious glare before moving on to a towering bush with great, dripping, bulb-shaped blossoms.
I held up a hand in surrender. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go.”
Caz waited until Arkady moved out of sight. “I brought you here because this is the one place Hades mostly avoids,” he explained. “Demeter is all about plants and gardens and fields, so he rarely comes here. We can talk and shouldn’t have to worry too much that he’ll show up.” He led me over to a stone bench built around an ugly tree; its trunk and limbs were twisted, gnarled, and half-dead looking.
I was leery of it and scooted next to Caz. “Is this one safe?”
He laughed. “Yeah, this one is. Generally, if it’s ugly in here, it’s safe. That’s another one of his inside jokes.” We sat down.
“How do you know all about every place and thing down here?”
“Experience,” he mumbled, his glance skittering away.
I looked at him expectantly. He wanted to talk, right? That’s what he’d said, and why he brought me to the secluded gothic garden. He seemed nervous, fidgeting in his seat, looking everywhere but at me. Here’s where those early beauty pageant lessons came in handy: Be a gracious conversationalist.
“The person I was talking with in the throne room is Meg,” I began. “She’s my friend and roommate at school. I miss her. And my life. I wish I was back up there. Is there anyone you miss?” It was a clever ploy to entice him to reveal something about himself.
He turned to me, tapping his fingers on his thigh. “I have a twin. Up there. I’m hoping I’ll get to see him. Soon.”
Then the conversation lagged. Could I tell him about my former life as a Siren?
Um, that’s a big NO. Not without incurring Hades’ punishments and pissyness, because technically I am still under contract.
And what would Caz think? He’d probably never want to speak to me again.
“I’m worried about Meg,” I continued. “She’s all alone. Usually we’re there for each other, but I’m stuck here. And who knows, if I’m gone too long, she might go back to wearing all black or cheap plastic shoes—after all the work I’ve done on her! I have to get out.” I jumped up, now too agitated to sit still, even next to Mr. Supermodel. I paced around a bit, careful to give wide berth to the rainbow-striped flowers.
Caz remained silent, looking at me without so much as a raised eyebrow. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Is there a way out?” I blurted. No sense wasting time beating around poisonous bushes.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t heard of a specific way out. There are always rumors, but I haven’t noticed anyone suddenly missing. I’d have to say that Hades would know the Underworld better than anyone, and if there is a way out, it’s probably full of very unpleasant surprises. He doesn’t like to be bested. At anything.”
I huffed. “Don’t I know it. He’s constantly chasing me, taking all my clothes away, and making me wear these silly outfits, thinking I’ll succumb.”
“He wants you.”
“Not getting me. I’m not for sale or negotiation. I’m a free agent.”
Caz laughed and came over to me. “I like you. You’re the only female who’s ever said no to him.”
“For now,” said the sinful voice of my captor.
I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. In slithered Hades, showing off a white and gold tunic similar to mine. He turned cold eyes on Caz. “A little temptation scene in a garden? That’s been done.” He pivoted to face me, warmth and, yes, lechery in his expression.
“Sharisse, my favorite Siren. You are a fitting addition to my garden of delights. Beautiful to behold, yet you can be so deadly. Have you seen Arkady yet?” he teased.
He crowded next to me and pointed a finger at Caz. “I believe you have someplace else to be quiet. Shoo.” He flicked his index finger. With a hurtful glance at me, Caz left.
Great. Now that Hades spilled the Siren info, the only friendly face I’d see would belong to the Pillsbury Patriot, Ben. I could count on him to be shuffling around the throne room, dusting, and bringing me fresh towels and banal chit-chat.
“Do not waste your time with the likes of him, cara mia. He is unworthy of you.”
A little jealous, are we?
“I thought you didn’t come here. Caz said—”
“Do not believe everything you hear. Or see. And I missed you. I wouldn’t want you to think I’d forgotten you while my affairs took me elsewhere. If you’re here, then I want to be here too.”
I ignored his little seductive pout. “I miss Meg, and Caz has been friendly and sweet. Now I bet he won’t talk to me. And if he tells the others I’m a Siren, especially people sent here by previous Sirens, only your minions will come near me. What about your nondisclosure clause? Can I go home?”
He chuckled. “So captivating with your defiance. Others have begged and pleaded and bargained for what they want.” He let the words drift off.
I turned my head away and walked over to sit on the bench. “You’ll turn blue holding your breath. And what’s with the toga? Did the party start without me?”
His eyes flared a moment. “It’s a very good thing I find you so enchanting, to allow you such leeway. No one else would dare to speak to me that way.”
Okay, so maybe that sharp tongue my mother always warned me about was not working here. The best way to get to Hades was to appeal to his ego. Vanity has its uses.
I rubbed my face. “I’m sorry. That was rude. Not that you don’t look great in it, but why?”
He looked somewhat mollified. “This is what we are required to wear when visiting Mt. Olympus. Zeus has his petty rules.” He sniffed.
“Dress code, huh?”
“Yes. Stupid, isn’t it?” he grumbled.
“No, I think it’s more like upholding tradition. Everyone’s wearing baggy jeans with holes and grungy shirts—it’s nice to see something a little more elegant.” That was true; I didn’t own a single pair of jeans with rips or worn spots. That was Meg’s thing. I never understood the whole ‘I want to look as poor as I can’ fashion appeal. How could anyone think poverty was fun or glamorous?
“Ah, a true woman of taste.” He checked me over from top to bottom to top again. “You look absolutely perfect in that gown.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s the only thing from the closet I’ll wear. You’ll be seeing a lot of it.”
“Not even the turquoise bikini, once?” he pouted, moving closer.
“Dream on,” I replied airily, rising quickly and scooting over to a weeping gumball tree.
“We’ll see.” His voice was right behind me, I could feel his breath stealing over my shoulders.
“So, nice garden!” I stammered, turning and stepping back. I want
ed to keep him in my sights. “Caz said you made everything here the way you wanted it.”
“Caz talks too much,” he mumbled, “but yes. Careful! That tree chews on anything in its grasp. You’re safe now, but if you venture farther in without me, the precious Caz can’t save you. Only I can.”
Yes, Mr. Megalo-maniac. I think we all get the pic.
I faked a girly squeal and jumped away from both tree and him. I kept moving, trying to hold him at bay. Bad things happen to girls in gardens with snakes.
“I love your lavender lake,” I said.
“Thank you!” He had such a happy look on his face that I felt bad thinking how no one appreciated his ingenuity, sick as it could be. Really, though, he’d created some wonderful, unique things. “It was one of my most inspired creations, I think.”
“Can I swim in it?”
“If you want to swim in it, you may. I will immediately instruct the inhabitants to keep to the bottom while you enjoy yourself. Maybe I should accompany you?”
Oh he was smooth! Trapping me into an invitation. How to get out?
“Sure. After I finish practicing my Calculus. And catching up with Ben. And I want to see the Elysian Fields. So many fascinating people there! I could do my history paper with firsthand sources!” I couldn’t stop rambling, but Hades only chuckled softly.
“Sometime, then. Maybe when you are more settled in and used to everything.”
Settled in? Seriously?
I didn’t reply. He ran two fingers down my cheek, my neck, and was probably about to keep going when I jerked back. A slight flush colored his face.
“You refuse my advances at every turn. You will be my greatest conquest when you finally capitulate.”
Not while I’m breathing.
“So, what’s happening on Olympus?” I asked. “Big meeting of the gods? I’d love to see the temple.” My heart was hammering in my chest. This bad boy had that deadly charm, deadly being key.
Hades gave me a sexy half-grin. “No mortals allowed; not that you wouldn’t be a breath of life on that rock pile. But even if I could bring you, Zeus would castrate me and then there would be Demeter and Persephone to contend with. After dealing with me, they would turn on you.” He circled around me, trailing that questing finger along my shoulders, giving me chills. “Demeter would be bad enough. She carries a grudge from your last encounter … ” His finger skirted around my neck to the pulse at my throat, then paused. He leaned in closer, his lips just tickling the outer edge of my ear. “But Persephone would be … vicious.”
“Okay! Cross Mt. Olympus off the vacation list!” I slid away, closer to the poisonous posies.
“And a word about Caz, ma petite. He’s not to be trusted. Everyone is here for a reason. Remember that. I’m all that stands between you and a very unpleasant future. A little gratitude is in order.” He gave me a dark look.
“Um, thank you?”
“Not enough.” He pulled me toward him and stole a kiss, lingering and full of sinful promise, which left me quite breathless. He knew how to rattle a girl.
He broke away, backed up a step, then spun on his gold sandal and stalked away, only to halt at the edge of the garden. Over his shoulder he said, “And don’t forget Cerberus. After you play with him on the beach, clean up the mess he leaves. I believe that’s in your job description.” He vanished.
My life so sucked right now.
Meg
In the Bag
Somehow, I’d managed to keep the Elysian Fields concert a secret from Paulina ever since I’d heard about it—but I wasn’t really thinking about it anyway. I’d spent the past few weeks trying to keep on top of school, be congenial with Paulina, and somehow plot her demise. Then she happened to mention that the band would be playing next week, and I spilled by accident.
“Where are your seats?” Paulina raised herself onto her elbows and quirked an eyebrow at me.
“Beacon Theater, Mezzanine, row A.” They were the best seats I’d ever had to any show, although at this point I was more excited about seeing Jeremy than the band. I scrolled through the last few messages we’d exchanged. Between
trying to survive at school, figuring out how to get Shar back, dealing with Paulina, and waiting for the right moment to strike, my replies were scanty one-word answers. But at least I was replying now.
“Nosebleed!” Paulina huffed dismissively. “When I saw them—”
“You had backstage passes and Matt Davy handed you his plaid hanky,” I interrupted.
She smirked. “It was almost that good.”
I started to laugh, and then caught myself and turned it into a cough. What right did I have to be looking forward to concerts and giggling with Paulina—the one I was supposed to be shepherding into the fleece? At first I might have had some legitimate excuses for my failures: the shock of it all, trying to fall into a routine of normalcy so that I actually could do it … But the only thing I’d managed to accomplish was having an increasingly friendly ease with her. It just kind of … happened.
“So, who’re you going with?” she asked, sounding too interested. She swung her long legs over the edge of her bed and got up to fiddle with her sound system.
“My boyfriend got the tickets,” I said, frowning as I scrolled through the texts again. I closed my eyes and saw his elfin face, straight dark hair, and blue impish eyes.
“Oh.” Did she sound disappointed? What—did she think I was going to ask her to come along? “Does he go to school here? I’ve never … seen you with anyone.”
I shook my head. “No, he’s out of high school. He’s at NYU. I’ll be going there in the fall.” I turned to her. “Did you leave someone behind, or were you seeing anyone before you moved?”
“No,” she said too quickly—which had to mean “yes.” “Bathroom!” she snapped and left, slamming the door behind her.
I’ve touched a nerve. At last—after so many conversations about music and classes, and time spent making catty, nasty, and totally appropriate remarks about Alana, to whom Paulina took an instant dislike—here was a clue about what her deal with Hades might be. Maybe she sold her soul for love … and like Arkady, wasn’t specific about details and things went wrong.
Should I delve? I shook my head. I didn’t need to know anything about Paulina that would distract me from getting her under that fleece. But …
But what?
There was no excuse.
I couldn’t go to the Pandora’s Box window again without another plan of action. I shouldn’t even have to go to the window—Shar should be back by now. The information about Eurydice was a nice save, albeit a desperate one. Shar had seemed excited about the idea when we’d parted, but I was guilt-ridden—yet another week had gone by and she was still in Tartarus. I’d failed to do anything on my end, and it was like I was putting the burden of resolving this completely on her. But even if she did get out, what about Paulina? Hades would still want her, and I was obliged to deliver. I had to try something, even if it didn’t work.
I looked at the clock: 9:18 p.m. Whenever Paulina went to the bathroom she took forever, and she’d only been gone for a couple of minutes. If I couldn’t fleece her tonight, maybe I could try something tomorrow during the day.
I went over to the closet, opened it, and unzipped the garment bag. As quickly as I could I yanked the fleece off the hanger, rolled it up, and stuffed it into the recesses of my messenger bag. I couldn’t close it fast enough, and caught my skin more than once in the bag’s plastic clips.
I couldn’t say why I didn’t want her to see me handling it. You just don’t want to hear her go on about it like last time, I thought, but I knew I was lying to myself. It was true that I knew little about her other than what I’d so far observed, but she just didn’t feel foul to me. My sixth sense always set off alarm bells when I was around someon
e creepy. I shivered in Arkady’s presence, and when Hades appeared, my skin crawled. Yet even with her wacky sleeping habits, Paulina didn’t make me want to watch my back.
I felt a pang of guilt when I saw the empty garment bag and hanger. Hastily I hid them away in the back of the closet and rolled the door shut, only to see my messenger bag staring up at me from the floor. I felt sick, like I was setting a trap. Trying unsuccessfully to dismiss that thought from my mind, I kicked the bag under my bed, turned the music down to lullaby level, lowered the lights, and settled into bed.
When Paulina eventually returned, I stiffened and clutched my blankets. She turned off the lights but left the music on; she usually kept it playing all night. But instead of going to sleep, she padded over to my side of the room, her long lean frame draped in shapeless sweats and tube socks. She stood next to my bed, looming over me like a specter. My eyes adjusted quickly to the dimness, the room illuminated only by the sound-system lights. Under the dark frame of her hair, I could see her eyes glittering in the dark. I sunk into my sheets, wishing the bed would swallow me up.
“Sorry about being so abrupt and stalking out before,” she said awkwardly. She turned her head to look away.
“No big deal,” I mumbled from under the blankets.
“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” She sounded incredibly sad.
I lowered my cotton-blend shield a bit. “I’d say so. Coming here, being new and all.”
She shook her head. “I’m used to moving around. It’s not that.”
“Well then, what is it?” I asked, shifting so I could see her better. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad, can it?”
She plopped down on the floor and sat cross-legged on the rug at the side of my bed. “It can,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the floor. She rubbed her face. “I’m worried about my brother. I haven’t seen or heard from him in a while. No one has. I’m hoping that he hasn’t gotten himself into any kind of trouble. You know, the kind you can’t get out of without help.”
Sirenz Back in Fashion Page 11
