“Oh, and Ilias—make an appointment with Katerina when you are finished.”
Katerina was the director of The Cypress Foundation, Hades’ non-profit organization. If he was going to help mortals the way Persephone desired, he was going to have to create something special, and he knew just when to unveil the project—at the upcoming Olympian Gala.
He left the balcony and called up his glamour, moving unseen across the floor of Nevernight in search of Persephone. She had to be in the club, because he had sealed the entrances to the Underworld to keep her from coming and going without his knowledge.
As he searched the shadows, he came upon Minthe, who was engaged in an argument with Mekonnen. Hades rolled his eyes; there was nothing unusual about this. The nymph fought with everyone in his employment.
“We are not a charity!” Minthe was saying.
“She is not asking for charity.” Despite Minthe’s anger, Mekonnen remained calm. It was a trait Hades admired in the ogre, who he had appointed to Duncan’s position.
“She is asking for the impossible. Hades does not waste his time on grieving mortals.”
There was truth to that, and yet hearing the words out loud, hearing them spoken in a tone so careless and so crass, sent a spear right through his heart. Is that what he had sounded like when he had dismissed Orpheus? No wonder Persephone had been appalled.
He was suddenly at odds with the way Minthe and Persephone perceived him, as it struck him that they thought similarly. Minthe expected him to refuse a mortal in distress, and Persephone assumed the same.
“Since when do you decide what Hades considers worthy, Minthe?” Mekonnen asked, and Hades felt true appreciation for the ogre.
“A question I’d very much like to hear the answer to,” Hades said, stepping from the shadow.
Minthe whirled to face Hades, the surprise on her face evident in her raised brows and parted lips. Clearly, she did not have as much confidence speaking on his behalf when he was present.
“My lord,” Mekonnen said, bowing his head.
“Did I hear right, Mekonnen? There is a mortal here to see me?
“Yes, my lord. She is a mother. Her daughter is in the ICU at Asclepius Children’s Hospital.”
Hades’ mouth was set in a grim line. The Asclepius Foundation was one of his charities. There were elements of being the God of the Dead he did not like, and one of those was the death of children. As much as he understood the balance of life, he would never quite accept that the deaths of children were necessary.
“The child isn’t gone yet, my lord.”
“Show her to my office,” Hades instructed. He started to walk away, but paused. “And Minthe, I am your king, and you shall address me as such. My given name is not for you to speak.”
Hades crossed the floor of his club with Minthe on his heels. The nymph grabbed his arm, and Hades whirled to face her.
“You forget your place,” he hissed.
She did not even flinch, just stared at him with furious eyes. She was undaunted by his anger, fearless of his wrath.
“Any other time, you would have agreed with me!” she snapped.
“I have never agreed with you,” he said. “You have assumed you understand how I think. Clearly, you do not.”
He turned from her and headed upstairs, but the nymph continued to follow.
“I know how you think,” the nymph said. “The only thing that’s changed is Per—”
Hades turned on her again and lifted his hand. He was not sure what he had intended to do, but he ended up clenching his fist.
“Do not say her name.” The words slipped between his teeth, and he spun, throwing open the door to his office.
He sensed Persephone and Hermes inside, but did not see them. Years of existing in battle kept him from hesitating in the doorway, but he was on edge and he could not deny that the thought of them hiding in this room together sent him spiraling.
Why are they in here together to begin with? Is this why he did not locate her on the floor earlier?
He gritted his teeth harder than necessary.
“You are wasting your time!” Minthe bit out, pulling him from his thoughts and redirecting his frustration. He wondered what she was referring to—the mortal or Persephone?
“It’s not like I’m running out,” Hades snapped.
Minthe’s lips flattened. “This is a club. Mortals bargain for their desires; they do not make requests of the God of the Underworld.”
“This club is what I say it is.”
The nymph glared. “You think this will sway the goddess to think better of you?”