“Would you like release?”
He swallowed. “You will be late.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps the waiting crowd will disperse some, then.”
He said nothing, just stared at her as his skin grew warmer. She unzipped his trousers and pulled his sex free, rubbing him up and down before licking him from root to tip. He took a breath, letting it out slowly, watching as she swirled her tongue over the crown of his cock. His mind went blank, focused only on her warm and wet mouth, and his body responded, his chest expanding, his head light, his body hot and tingling. He had a moment when he wondered if he should come in her mouth, but she seemed intent, increasing the pressure and pace, and suddenly his want to come became a need, and he could no longer hold on to the tension in his body. His release came hard and fast, in a surge of electricity that left him feeling completely euphoric.
Persephone released him, standing to return her attention to her waiting coffee. Hades restored himself and stood, touching her jaw with a gentle brush of his fingers.
“You are far too generous, my darling.”
She smiled, her face flushed. “I have no doubt you will return the favor.”
“Eagerly,” he said.
Despite how intimate they’d just been, Hades wasn’t able to convince Persephone to let him take her to work, so he saw her off with explicit instructions for Antoni to escort her to the door and started his day with a visit to Iniquity. While Hades had many clubs, this one was…unique. There were two parts. One side entertained the public with burlesque dances, loud music, and alcohol. It was also the entrance used for those who sought help from Magi. Of all the criminals Hades worked with, he disliked the Magi most, and while he’d rather not entertain their so-called gifts at all, he liked having his thumb on their pulse so he could send Hecate to clean up their messes.
The other side of the club was a lounge for the most powerful criminals in New Greece. Criminals who had gained traction via Hades’s influence— from brothel owners to the Mafia, relic dealers to assassins. His empire ran deep, and he pulled the strings. One mishap and they tumbled.
Today he came to speak to Ptolemeos Drakos, who led one of the greatest smuggling rings in the whole of New Greece. He was a hardened man with deep lines on his face and a shaved head. His eyes were dark and slightly narrow, his thin lips turned down at the corners, but he always dressed sharply in a tailored suit and colorful tie. When he entered Hades’s office, he did not move to sit, which the god appreciated—this assignment would not take long.
“My lord,” he said, his voice so deep, it was almost hard to hear him.
“Mr. Drakos,” Hades said. “I’d like you to keep an eye out for any monsters that happen to make their way into the market. Make note of where they go and inform me immediately.”
Hades wanted to know if Dionysus was making a habit of collecting monsters. It wasn’t unusual considering many gods gave birth to said monsters, but Hades liked to know what all gods had, considering they could be used as weapons.
“Is that all, my lord?”
“For now.”
“Very well,” Ptolemeos replied, bowed, and left.
Hades was only alone a moment when the door opened once more. He looked up and found a woman standing in his office. She had long, dark hair and dark eyes. She was thin, dressed in a button-up shirt and slacks. He noted the badge on her hip.
“Who are you?” Hades asked, already irritated by her presence.
“My name is Ariadne Alexiou,” she said. “Detective Alexiou.”
“I’m not held to mortal law,” Hades said. The police never interfered with the gods—not in their exploits or their quests for divine retribution. “So I cannot imagine why you’re here.”
He expected the woman to react in some kind of way—with frustration, or perhaps defensiveness. While they’d never supported them publicly, Hades knew the Hellenic Police Department supported Triad’s idea of fairness, free will, and freedom. They did not like the idea that the gods intervened in justice and that there was nothing they could do about it.
Divine justice ruled all.
Instead, the woman said, “I need your help.”
Hades raised a brow. “You don’t want my help.”
“Do you make a habit of telling women how they think?”
“Well, aren’t you bold,” Hades replied, staring at the woman for a moment. It was only then he saw a bit of her confidence waver, and that was the root of her soul—a once self-assured woman who was crumbling on the inside. But why?