Once they arrived, Hades helped Persephone out of the limo, directing her to an elevator.
“Where are we?” she asked as the doors opened. He led her inside and pressed the button for the fourteenth floor, which led to the rooftop. The doors closed, trapping her scent. He eyed the emergency stop button, wondering how many times he could make her come before someone came to their unnecessary and unwanted rescue.
“The Grove. My restaurant,” he added, because it was not common knowledge that he owned any business outside of Nevernight.
“You own The Grove? How does no one know?”
He shrugged. “I let Ilias run it and prefer that people think he owns it.”
He chose to keep his assets a secret. It was better that way. No one truly knew how powerful Hades was or how much of New Greece he really owned.
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened to reveal the rooftop. It was made to look like one of the gardens in the Underworld, with beds of roses and peonies, climbing ivies and trees heavy with fruit and flora.
“This is beautiful, Hades,” she said as he guided her along a dark stone path. Lights crossed over their heads, leading to an open grove where their table waited. He pulled out her chair and poured their wine.
“You said your day was busy,” Hades began, sipping the wine. He did not often switch to drinking anything but whiskey, and he had to admit, he missed the smoky taste of his favorite liquor as much as he missed Persephone’s mouth on his.
She hesitated, and Hades realized maybe that wasn’t the question to ask. Their conversations about her work never went well. He could tell she was hiding something, even as she answered, “Yes. I had a lot…to research.”
“Hmm.” He took another sip of the wine. It was bitter and burned his throat, but it helped him focus on something other than his irritation about her work. What was she researching? His past? His bargains? Had she created a list of questions to ask him tonight? Or brought another list of names?
“I thought Cerberus was a three headed dog,” she said suddenly. Hades was taken off-guard, and he chuckled, raising a brow.
“Is this the research you were referring to?”
“All the texts say he has three heads,” she said defensively.
“He does,” Hades answered, amused. “When he wants to.”
“What do you mean, when he wants to?”
“Cerberus, Typhon, and Orthrus are able to shift. Sometimes, they prefer to exist as one, other times, they prefer to have their own bodies.” He shrugged. “I let them do what they wish, so long as they protect the borders of my realm.”
“How did you come to own him?” She paused and then corrected herself. “Them.”
“He is the son of the monsters, Echidna and Typhon, who came to reside in my realm,” Hades said.
“You love animals?”
He chuckled at that. “Cerberus is a monster, not an animal.”
A line appeared between Persephone’s brows. “But…you love him?”
He stared at her for a moment, and he sensed that this question—and her reason for asking it—meant more than he realized.
“Yes,” he said at last. “I love him.”
Hades was relieved when she moved on from that line of questioning to tell stories about the souls she’d spent her evening with the day before. He had begun to make it a point to walk with her, visit Asphodel, and greet the souls. She had even convinced him to play with the children, something he was far too competitive to take lightly. As they talked, they ate, and when they were finished, they walked hand in hand through the rooftop garden.
“What do you do for fun?” she asked, peering up at him sheepishly.
“What do you mean?” He had an answer, and it involved her and his bed. Actually, it just involved her. He could fuck anywhere.
She giggled. “The fact that you just asked that says everything. What are your hobbies?”
“Cards. Riding.” He paused, reaching. Damn, this was harder than he thought. “Drinking.”
“What about things not related to being the God of the Dead?”
“Drinking is not related to being God of the Dead.”
“It also isn’t a hobby. Unless you’re an alcoholic.”
He was probably an alcoholic.
“Then what are your hobbies?”
“Baking,” she answered automatically, and he could tell by her expression that she truly loved it.
“Baking? I feel like I should have known about this sooner.”
“Well, you never asked.”