by R. L. Naquin
I had to confront the Lord of the Underworld and make him tell me everything.
~*~
If I’d been nervous the first time I’d knocked on Hades’ door, I was positively petrified at the prospect this time. After everything my mom had done to keep me safe, I was about to blow it all up.
Parker took one look at me and rushed to help me to a chair. Did I look that frail that everyone’s first reaction to seeing me was to help me sit down? I sat at my desk staring at Hades’ door while Parker took a call.
Judging by the tired way he answered the other person’s questions and how many times he repeated himself, I assumed it was another call from Pheme.
“Yes, I’m positive, ma’am. He’ll be in meetings all day. But I can assure you, the artificial atmosphere has not changed, and there’s no truth to the rumor that we’re using lower wattage sunlight to save energy.” He glanced over at me and rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll give him the message. Have a wonderful day.” He hung up and rubbed his face.
“Pheme?” Listening to him deal with her had lifted my spirits a little and made the knot in my stomach soften.
He nodded. “That woman is going to be the death of me, someday.”
I laughed. “Are we allowed to say that down here?”
“I’ve never thought about it.” He shrugged. “You okay?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I’m really not.” I gestured at the office door. “Is he in?”
“Yeah. Go ahead. Lita called and said you’d be wanting to talk to him.”
The knot in my stomach grew three sizes. “He knows?”
“Yes.” His expression was worried.
“You know, too.” Not a question. I could read it on his face. “I’m not going to ask right now how long you knew. I expect you’ll tell me it wasn’t your secret to tell?”
“I’m so sorry, Wynter.” To be fair, he did look sorry. It couldn’t have been easy on him keeping it a secret. “If it’s any consolation, we didn’t know for sure until you told us about your houseplant.”
“Yeah. I get that, now.” Of course Persephone’s daughter would have a talking plant. I took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. I’m going in. Wish me luck.”
“Luck.” His voice was soft but encouraging.
I left the security of my desk and made my way across the office on wobbly knees. The sound of my knuckles rapping on the wood was like a marching band in my ears, but probably wasn’t loud at all.
“Come in.” His voice was muffled through the wood.
I turned the knob, swallowing hard as I stepped into the room. “Hi.”
His expression was unreadable. “Sit.”
I settled on the edge of a plush leather chair, afraid to sit back. “I guess Lita told you.”
He tilted his head. “You okay?”
Why did everyone keep asking that? “I might be in shock. I’m not sure.”
He sat back in his chair. “Relax. You look like you’re a flight risk.”
I shrugged. “Do I have a reason to flee?”
His eyes flashed. “Of course not.”
I eased into the chair, pressing myself into it, but still clutching the arms like a life preserver. “So…here we are.”
His voice was soft. “You look so much like her.” One side of his mouth twitched. “Yes. Here we are.” He folded his hands together and rested them on his desk. “You have questions.”
I nodded. “Yes.” I hesitated, wondering if I should ask the big one first. I took a deep breath and went ahead with it. “Are you my father?”
His eyes grew sad. “I’m afraid not.”
I had to admit to myself, I was a little disappointed. I’d never had a dad. It would’ve been nice to have one sitting right in front of me. I debated whether to ask the next question. It was probably inappropriate under the circumstances. But I had to know. “Do you know who is?”
He chuckled. “I think so. But he’s long gone. Your mother makes friends easily, as I’m sure you know. Right around the time you were conceived, she was consorting with a man who, in life, had been a salesman, I think. Wine? Souvenirs? It’s been so long. I’m really not sure.” He opened a wooden box on his desk. A variety of chocolate truffles in ruffled paper cups covered the inside. He tilted the box toward me. “Chocolate?”
I hesitated, then snagged a round one covered in white chocolate with a dark chocolate swirl on the top. “Thank you.” I mentally crossed my fingers in the hope that I wasn’t biting into something fruity with a lemon or cherry filling. I sank my teeth into it and found chocolate ganache. It went a long way toward easing my nerves.
Never underestimate the power of a well-timed, quality piece of chocolate.
“Nice enough guy, but already dead. She met him hanging around in Purgatory. She used to do that when she was bored.” His eyes lost their focus, and he seemed to be somewhere else. After a moment, he shook his head and looked at me. “He’s not really your father, Wynter. No one is. He was a soul in a temporary, Underworld-issued body. He contributed no genetic material to your makeup. Only your mother did that.”
I blinked, then spoke slowly. “I’m the product of parthenogenesis. Like a flatworm.”
He laughed. “No, of course not. More like he added flour to your mother’s sourdough starter.”
“I’m bread.”
“Funny. You get that from your mother.”
“Apparently, I get everything from my mother. Am I a clone?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You are human. The man she was with—I want to say Charlie? Chas? Something like that. Anyway, his Underworld body contributed the basic DNA of a human, but without any specific traits. Sort of a blank die. The rest was filled in by your mother.”
I still wasn’t sure I understood, other than the fact that I had no father. “You seem awfully easygoing about your wife having an affair.” The chocolate had maybe made me a little too loose with my opinions. That hadn’t been the most polite way of saying it.
He smirked, apparently unconcerned with my lack of tact. “Wynter, honey, we’re gods. We’ve all been together for thousands of years. Everybody strays. No matter how much we love each other, we aren’t immune to boredom. Forever is for humans.”
“Then why would she run?”
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. “The thing I’ve always loved most about your mother was how delightfully weird and quirky she is. Sometimes that same quality makes her…unbalanced.”
The conversation was making me tired. “Unbalanced? She kept us moving from town to town most of my life. She only recently admitted she’d been married and her husband had a temper so she had to run.”
He scowled. “She said that? Ridiculous. She ran because she’s obligated to be in the Underworld at least three months out of every year and, apparently, thought I would drag her back. She wanted to raise you in the human world. Sure, we argued about it, but in the end, I let her go. What’s the lifespan of a human? Eighty years? I’d miss her—I have missed her—but eighty years isn’t that long.”
I tried not to cringe at how flip he was about my pathetic life expectancy. “So, she hid from you so I wouldn’t grow up in the Underworld.”
“Yes.” He shrugged and gave me a sly smile. “At least, she thought she did.”
“You found us?” Mom would not be happy.
He opened the box and offered me another piece of chocolate. “Honey, I never lost you. I’ve watched over you both since before you were born.”
Chapter 15
I spent over an hour in Hades’ office, trying to piece together the truth about my family and who I was. In the end, I was exhausted and went for a walk to try to digest the things he’d told me. I still had unanswered questions, but a person can only take in so much information—or eat so many chocolate truffles—before needing a time-out.
The walk helped clear some room in my head. But instead of going back to grill Hades further, I went to my dorm room to find out
what Phyllis knew.
She was absolutely no help.
“I swear on my root system, I had no idea who your mother was.” She paused, and her voice got quieter. “At least, not until I met her.”
I folded my arms across my chest and glared. “When I took you over there and she replanted you, that’s when you figured it out? That was months ago.”
“Well, yes.”
I shifted my feet, feeling stupid and clueless. After a moment, I moved to the edge of the bed and sat. “You should have told me.”
“Sweetheart, it wasn’t my secret. I couldn’t. Besides….” She trailed off, her branches shivering. “She doesn’t know who she is either. At least, not all the time.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned and leaned forward, resting my arms in my lap. “She has to know.”
“She’s confused. You know that. You’ve seen it.”
“I brought that up after I took you to see her. You said she was alright.”
“She is. I don’t think she’s a danger to herself. She’s just taken this human persona and started to believe it.”
I stared at a spot on the thin blue carpet. It was shaped like an artichoke. “Do you know someone named Terry?”
“Not that I recall. Why?”
“Someone by that name was there when I visited. She said they’ve known each other a long time. But I’ve never met her.”
“I don’t know who that could be.”
“She wants to move Mom to her house and take care of her. How weird is that?”
“I guess if they’re good friends, it wouldn’t be that weird.”
“Something about her felt odd. I’m going to talk to Hades about it tomorrow.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Before I could answer, someone rapped on my door, a series of short, polite knocks. I moved to the door and opened it.
A short-ish man—maybe five foot six—stood before me dressed in cargo shorts, a blue-and-white-striped polo, and several heavy gold necklaces. He had a baby face, hazel eyes, and dirty blond hair that looked a little crunchy from too much hair product.
I gave him a polite smile. “Can I help you?”
He looked me up and down as if assessing my qualities. He didn’t appear to be impressed. “Are you Wynter?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Scooter. Are you ready to go?”
I blinked. “What?”
“Our date. We rescheduled after you didn’t make it last week.”
Panic made my pulse flutter in my throat and my voice come out a little high-pitched. “I didn’t reschedule.”
“No. Parker arranged it.” He stopped, looking annoyed. “Don’t tell me he forgot to tell you?” He let out a dramatic sigh and ran his hand over his hair. It didn’t move. “Wow. Okay. Well, I’ll wait in the lobby while you get ready.”
I had no idea how to handle this. He was a little rude, but I had stood him up last week. More than anything, I wanted to call my mom and try to get some answers. Maybe I could put the guy off for a few more days. Or better yet, back out gracefully altogether. He was most definitely not my type.
Putting him off wasn’t going to happen. When I didn’t say anything right away, he turned and walked down the hall toward the TV room and the communal kitchen. I was stuck.
“Because that’s what I want after a life changing revelation about my heritage.” I pulled off the red blouse and black pants I’d worn to work and padded barefoot to the small closet across the room. “A blind date I didn’t know was happening.” I grabbed a long blue skirt, a white tank, and a blue cardigan and piled them on my bed. “Not a word about my underwear, Phyllis.”
She gasped. “Of course not. If you want to walk around looking like you shop at the same store as a stripper, you go right ahead.”
I tossed her a dirty look. “Seriously? Now you’re upset that my underwear is too fancy?” I threw my arms in the air. “I can’t win.”
She rubbed her branches together and made a scratchy, rumbling sound. “I just don’t like that boy. He seems…I don’t know. Oily?”
“We saw him for all of two minutes. I’m just going for drinks, then I’ll be back. I promise not to accidentally get married or something. Okay?”
“Fine. But don’t be out too late. You have work in the morning.”
I smirked as I pulled on my clothes and a pair of flat sandals. “Yes, ma’am.”
Once I was dressed, I ducked into the bathroom to freshen my makeup. No wonder he’d been disappointed. What little makeup I had left was under my eyes. The corner of my mouth was smudged with chocolate, and my hair was flat on one side.
I took a few minutes to wash my face and start over, adding darker shadow and liner for a smoky, nighttime look. I wet my short hair and blow dried it back in softer waves, then added a silver, heart shaped necklace that hit right where my cleavage started.
When I moved, the slit in the side of my skirt shifted and flashed a good portion of leg.
“Disappointed in me, is he? Oh, I don’t think so.” I finished with a deep red lipstick, blotted it on a tissue, and shut off the light.
“Oh, Wynter.” Phyllis made a tutting sound when I entered the room. “This isn’t a competition. Do not go out there looking like that. Best thing you can do with a boy like that is lose his interest, not capture it.”
I smiled and spritzed myself with a little perfume. “It’s a matter of pride.” I spun around. Am I good?”
She groaned. “You’ll never get rid of him.”
“I won’t be late. I promise.” I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.
This time, Scooter’s slimy once-over didn’t end with a curled lip and an attitude. “Wow. You look fantastic.”
I smiled. “Where are we headed?”
“Have you been to Elysian Fields, yet?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Parker didn’t tell you why I missed our date last week?”
He laughed, kind of a breathless snorting. “Yeah. He told me. I mean the restaurant.”
“No.” I lifted my chin. “I haven’t.” The guy was still laughing at me. This night was not going to go well. “I’m not from around here.”
He nodded and took my elbow to guide me through the door and down the sidewalk. “So they said. Well, I’ll show you around. We’ve got all night.”
I felt queasy. I should never have answered the door.
~*~
Dinner at the Elysian Fields was not what I’d expected. With a name like that, low lights, maybe chandeliers, smartly dressed servers, and a good wine list, right?
The Elysian Fields was an all-you-can-eat buffet. Fried chicken. Spaghetti and meatballs. Some sort of tuna-noodle thing with a dry crust on it. None of it looked appetizing.
When I sat at the table, my plate held a roll and butter, some au gratin potatoes, green bean casserole, a chicken leg, and a stalk of wilted broccoli.
“You didn’t get much,” Scooter said, sliding into the booth. “You’ll have to take more trips through if you don’t pile it up the first time.”
“More trips.” I picked up the chicken leg. “Gotcha.” I took a small bite. The meat was dry and a little over-salted.
Scooter’s plate was fully loaded. He seemed to think the chicken was delicious, judging by how fast it went down. “So, tell me about yourself, Wynter. Do you go to the gym? You’re pretty fit.”
“Um, thanks, but no. I don’t have a gym membership.”
“You should come with me some time. I can get you in as a guest. I go every day.” He flexed his chest muscles as he lifted his fork, as if it were a natural move, not contrived to show off. “I’d love to show you how much I can lift. You won’t believe it.”
“I’m sure I won’t.” I tasted the potatoes. Not too bad. A little gritty. Definitely from a box, not an actual potato.
“What do you like to do?” He’d shoveled down two pieces of chicken and a sparerib in the time I’d taken two bites. “I have a black belt i
n Tai Kwon Do. Do you know much about martial arts?”
I shook my head, sure he would tell me.
“A black belt means I can pretty much kick anybody’s ass.” He ducked his head in a pathetic show of false modesty. “My instructor says he’s never seen anyone progress so fast.”
Our server finally showed up with our drinks. Against my better judgment, I’d ordered a glass of red wine. I’m not exactly a wine snob, but I didn’t expect whatever they might have in this place to be very good. In fact, they only had two to choose from—red and white. No labels. Just house wines. I took the risk.
Desperate times.
When she placed the glass in front of me, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing or blurting out something insulting.
My red wine was in a tumbler over ice.
Scooter belched and drank half the beer she’d handed him. Sorry. Light beer. Scooter was watching his carbs.
Why had I gone along with this? I needed to be calling my mother and processing the earth-shattering information I’d found out earlier. Instead, I was stuck watching Scooter suck his food between his teeth.
Watching him slurp a flapping strand of spaghetti, I decided to throw in the towel. Screw it. I was stuck there. I might as well go with it.
As the server turned to go, I touched her arm. “Excuse me. Could I have a straw, please?”
She glanced at Scooter as he shoved an entire meatball in his mouth. “Sure, hon.” She looked a little green. “Can I get you anything else?”
I tapped my glass. “I’ll probably need another one of these right away, if you get a chance.” I took the paper off the straw, stuck it in the glass, and took a sip. It took everything I had not to make a face.
It was not good.
Scooter drained his beer. “Me, too, since you’re already going to the bar.”
The server gave me a look of sympathy and walked away.
The green bean casserole was pretty good. “Did you get any of this?” I pointed my fork at it.
“Not a chance. Those are probably canned vegetables. I get all my vegetables fresh from a juicer. It’s better for you.” He took a huge bite of deep-fried, breaded cheese stick. Cheese oozed out in a long string and stuck to his chin.
