“Can you not guess?”
“Show me,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.
It was so fucking hot in this room.
He reached between them and stroked himself, timing each movement with the click of the camera.
What the fuck was happening? He had never let anyone take pictures of him before, much less this, something so personal and so fucking intimate, yet he let it happen, and there came a point when the camera was set aside and their mouths collided. Persephone rose up onto her knees to guide Hades’s cock inside her and they rocked together. As their bodies grew slick and their breaths became ragged, Hades had never quite felt so desperate before, like everything that had come before this moment had made the chase for release so much sweeter. When they tumbled over the edge and lay in a breathless entanglement, Persephone shifted, reached for the camera, and took a picture of their faces.
“I want to remember this,” she said and kissed his raw lips.
He didn’t think he’d ever forget.
*
Hades had never consistently offered his time to mortals seeking bargains, and he had found since Persephone’s arrival, he had made himself available less and less, but the weekend was upon them, and there was a general discontent to the crowd gathered on the floor of Nevernight, a desperation that he thought he may as well attempt to cull.
So he bargained.
He had been right about the hopelessness he’d sensed. Every mortal who came to him was offering far more than they were at liberty to give.
“Please,” a woman had begged after her loss to Hades. “I will do anything… T-take my firstborn!”
Unease slithered through him at her offer.
“Money in exchange for a soul is a bitter bargain.” Hades frowned. “I pity the child who is born to you.”
She seemed to brighten. “Is that a yes?”
Hades scowled. “Out!”
Hades’s tone must have frightened her because she fled for the door. The next mortal was a man, desperate for money, who offered Hades the pick of the hetairai employed within his brothel.
Hades raised a brow. “I have no interest.”
The man’s face fell. “But, my lord, no singular woman can meet a man’s needs.”
Hades considered listing the faults of this man’s soul, hoping each one might hit like a bullet to the chest—insecure, lonely, dishonest, cruel—but there would be no benefit and would only mean that the man would linger longer in his presence, so he offered a threat instead.
“If you want to exit this club no worse than when you arrived, I suggest you leave. Now.”
The man scrambled from the room, and Hades was left far more frustrated than when he’d begun. He was reminded everyday how the public looked at him…which, sometimes, was no different from how they viewed Poseidon or Zeus. Neither of his brothers were particularly loyal gods, and it was likely they would have jumped at the menagerie of offerings tonight, but Hades was not like his brothers and he never would be.
The proposed deals were no better after that—just a string of beggars hoping for money, truly believing that a bargain with the God of the Dead would make their lives better.
The last client of the night was a young man around twenty or so, and while he presented clean shaven and well dressed, a darkness lingered beneath his skin, a corruption that had made his life spiral out of control. He was addicted to drugs, and if Hades had to guess, he’d say it was Evangeline, possibly one of the most destructive and common street drugs on the market. Its creation had originated with Eris, the Goddess of Destruction.
“What is it you wish to bargain for?” Hades asked.
“I…uh…I need money.”
“For drugs?” Hades asked.
The man’s eyes widened. “No… I need to replace the money I spent on…”
He did not finish his sentence, and Hades guessed it was due to shame.
The man took a breath and explained, “I’m supposed to be in college, but I haven’t gone all semester. I’ve been lying to my parents…but if I can get the money back, I can return. They won’t have to know.”
Hades raised a brow. “You think you can return to college with an addiction so severe?”
Just as the man was about to open his mouth, Hades felt the familiar tendrils of Persephone’s magic call to his own, which meant two things— she was here and she was angry. A particularly fierce dread took hold of his heart.
What had she discovered?
The door swung open, and Persephone was framed in the dim light from the hallway. Her glamour peeked through to reveal the goddess beneath— gleaming eyes and glowing skin. She was also livid. A deep flush kissed the high parts of her cheeks, and her lips and jaw were set hard.