His eyes snapped to Persephone, who was trying hard not to smile. It seemed she enjoyed hearing Hecate scold him, but Hecate was right, he should have warned her not to approach any of the rivers in the Underworld. The Lethe, in particular, was powerful, drawing memories from souls like air.
What would he have done if she had touched it? Drank from it? He shoved the thoughts away.
“It seems I owe you an apology, Lady Persephone.”
She was surprised. Perhaps she had not expected him to apologize, but she stared at him with those fiery emerald eyes and parted lips, and he found his desire for her renewed.
Then, the Horn of Tartarus sounded, and he and Hecate turned in its direction.
“I am being summoned,” Hecate said.
“Summoned?” Persephone asked.
“The judges are in need of my advice.”
The Judges, Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus, often summoned Hecate to sentence certain souls to eternal punishment, mostly those who had committed crimes against women.
“My dear,” Hecate said to Persephone, “call the next time you are in the Underworld. We’ll return to Asphodel.”
“I would love that,” Persephone said with a smile, and it made Hades’ heart beat harder.
She enjoyed her time with the souls. Good.
When they were alone, Persephone turned to Hades. “Why would the judges need Hecate’s advice?”
He cocked his head to the side, curious at her demanding tone, and answered, “Hecate is the Lady of Tartarus and particularly good at deciding punishments for the wicked.”
“Where is Tartarus?”
“I would tell you if I thought you would use the knowledge to avoid it.”
But given her history, he did not trust her.
“You think I want to visit your torture chamber?”
“I think you are curious and eager to prove I am as the world assumes—a deity to be feared.”
All things that would probably be confirmed if she found her way to his eternal torture chamber.
She gave him a challenging stare. “You’re afraid I’ll write about what I see.”
That made him laugh. “Fear is not the word, darling.”
He feared for her safety. He dreaded her assumptions.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course you fear nothing.”
Oh darling, you know nothing, he thought as he reached to pluck a flower from her hair. He twirled the stem between his fingers and asked, “Did you enjoy Asphodel?”
She smiled, and the honesty of it left him breathless. “I did. Your souls… They seem so happy.”
“You are surprised?”
“Well, you aren’t exactly known for your kindness.”
Hades lips flattened. “I’m not known for my kindness to mortals. There is a difference.”
“Is that why you play games with their lives?”
He studied her, frustrated by her question and the way she asked it—like she forgot that mortals came to him to bargain, not the other way around.
“I seem to recall advising that I would answer no more of your questions.”
Persephone’s inviting lips parted. “You can’t be serious.”
“As the dead.”
“But…how will I get to know you?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “You want to get to know me?”
She looked away, glaring. “I’m being forced to spend time here, right? Shouldn’t I get to know my jailer better?”
“So dramatic,” he muttered, and fell quiet, considering. He wanted to answer her questions because he wanted her to understand his perspective, but he wanted control. He wanted the ability to limit, to explain until understanding was achieved, he wanted to be able to ask her questions, too.
“Oh, no.”
Persephone’s voice drew his attention, and he raised a brow. “What?”
“I know that look.”
“What look?”
“You get this…look,” she explained, and paused, like she did not quite know how to explain. He liked watching her search for the right words, brows knitted together over her pretty eyes. “When you know what you want.”
“Do I?” he asked, and couldn’t help teasing her. “Can you guess what I want?”
“I’m not a mind reader!” His question flustered her, her cheeks turning crimson. She might be more of a mind reader than she thought.
“Pity,” he said. “If you would like to ask questions, then I propose a game.”
“No,” she said flatly. “I’m not falling for that again.”