“That is a hefty price.”
“Give it to me, or I take it by force. Can you survive a bruised ego in this part of town?”
The answer was no, and Acacius knew it. His lips slammed into a hard line. “Follow me,” he said and turned to leave the garage.
Hades started to follow but paused when Hecate did not. “Are you coming?”
“No,” she said, a smile curling her lips. “I think I’ll stay.”
Acacius led him to an office inside the garage. It was lit with low, amber light, and as Hades entered, he noted several expensive furnishings, among them an ornately carved executive desk and accompanying leather chair, the back of which faced the door and a wall of windows, something Hades found odd. Usually, people of Acacius’s caliber did not sit with their backs to doors or windows for fear of assassination, but perhaps he felt comfortable in his own space.
Hubris, Hades thought.
Acacius moved behind the desk, removed a set of keys from his pocket with his uninjured hand, and opened one of the drawers. Hades watched him closely, not trusting that he wouldn’t try something stupid, like drawing a gun on him. While those weapons were known to be useless against gods, people still made the attempt. The last one to try was Sisyphus, and that had ended with the gun melted to his hand.
Instead, though, the mortal set a small box on the desk. It appeared to be a ring box, but what was inside surprised even Hades.
It was an eye.
“Is that what I think it is?” Hades asked.
“That depends on what you think it is,” said Acacius.
“You are wearing your chances thin.”
“It is the eye of the Graeae.”
It was exactly as Hades thought. The Graeae were three sisters who wore the skin of hags, though their true form was rather monstrous. The three had the bodies of swans, though their heads and arms were human, and between them, they shared a tooth and an eye.
“How did you come to possess it?” Hades asked.
“I took it from them,” Acacius said. “The Graeae.”
“You took it from them?” Hades repeated. “When?”
The Graeae had not been seen in centuries, choosing to self-isolate, fearing the evolution of man—and rightly so, as Acacius had demonstrated.
“They were obtained by hunters and brought to me,” he said. “Monsters are worth a fortune in the market.”
“So you sold them.”
There was a moment of silence, then Hades pounced. He grabbed a handful of Acacius’s shirt and slammed him down on his desk.
“Who did you sell them to?” he demanded.
The mortal’s hands dug into Hades’s arms as he held him down—even the broken ones.
“Di-Dionysus!”
Hades released the man.
“How long ago?”
“They were shipped off just yesterday.”
The God of Wine was as much a collector of monsters as Hades, and while Dionysus probably thought the Graeae would make a nice addition to his collection, it was likely what he really wanted was the eye, and Hades wanted to know why. What information did he hope to obtain?
Hades reached for the box and placed it inside the pocket of his jacket before heading toward the door.
“You cannot just take what’s mine,” Acacius said. “That eye was bought and paid for.”
“Perhaps my generosity has led you to believe you are entitled to make demands,” Hades replied. “It doesn’t.” At the door, Hades paused.
“Dionysus will come for you. He always does. I would remain alert, not that it will do you much good.”
“You cannot leave me to him,” Acacius argued.
“Tell me one more time what I can and cannot do,” Hades said, and as he stepped outside, he found that Hecate had transformed many of Acacius’s men into topiaries.
“I think they look better this way,” she said. “I trimmed them after.”
Hades raised a brow. “I’m assuming they did something to deserve this?”
She shrugged. “They didn’t like cats.”
Chapter V
Power Play
While Hecate returned to the Underworld, Hades went to Nevernight and informed Ilias of the situation with Acacius, advising him to maintain surveillance on the mortal’s shop. It was not so much with the intention of providing protection as much as it was to see who visited.
“I’m not so certain that man will live long,” said Ilias.
“Agreed,” Hades replied. “He fucked with a god.”
Ilias shook his head. “Acacius established himself as someone who has answers. Now he doesn’t. He’ll find himself at the end of someone’s gun soon enough.”