“We’ve been tracking Dionysus’s movements as you instructed. He has a few connections in the black market, but he is not trying to build a list of contacts like we thought. He is a contact.”
“Any word on the kind of jobs he’s running?”
Hades guessed he was sending his maenads on assassination missions, but assassins were also good spies.
“He seems to be interested in obtaining information on any and everyone,” Ilias replied.
Not surprising. There was no greater power than knowledge.
“Has he tried locating the Graeae or Medusa?”
He wondered if the god might try to circumvent using the Graeae, since it seemed that the gorgon was his target.
“He has sent the maenads to investigate various channels in the market but has had no luck yet, though it seems many knew he was in possession of the sisters. The bounty’s increased on Medusa’s head. She’s caused quite a stir among hunters. They’re ravenous to find her.”
It was concerning to Hades that no one in the market had yet to snitch.
Usually, it didn’t take much. People in the underground were there because they liked to make deals that benefited them. There were no loyalties, only a good bargain.
Which made Hades think that perhaps the Graeae had moved beyond the market.
“I did ask Euryale as you instructed. She does not know Medusa.”
Strange, Hades thought. He’d expected otherwise, given that they were both gorgons. Perhaps Medusa had not always been a gorgon. Perhaps she had come under some divine curse.
“See what my brother is up to,” Hades instructed.
“Which one?”
“The wet one.”
Poseidon was always scheming, and he was likely working with Hera on her plan to overthrow Zeus. It would not surprise Hades if the god was trying to gather his own advantages and allies.
“Very well,” Ilias said. “Are you ready for the unhappy news?”
“That wasn’t unhappy enough?”
“We’ve detained a man,” Ilias said. “We expected you would want to…
interrogate him.”
“And why would I want to do that, Ilias?” Hades spoke carefully, but his irritation had spiked.
“He threw a glass bottle at Persephone.”
Hades waited, and when the satyr didn’t continue, he demanded, “Did he hit her, Ilias?”
“No, of course not,” Ilias replied. “I would have told you far sooner.”
The rush of fury that had erupted inside Hades quieted, replaced mostly by horror. He wondered what had spurred the attack. Had it been Persephone’s article about Apollo or her relationship with him? Perhaps both. Nevertheless, he’d see that the man paid for his actions.
“Where is he being held?”
“Your office,” Ilias said.
Hades needed no more information, and he teleported to Nevernight, to his office, where he found a man bound and gagged.
He was unremarkable—a pale man with a mop of dirty brown hair and dull eyes that widened at the sight of Hades. To his credit, he did not beg, though he did begin to shake, and a wet spot soaked through his khaki trousers.
“I heard you threatened the love of my life,” Hades said, shedding his jacket. He folded it and draped it over the back of the couch. Then he began to unlink his cuffs. “I’m here to discover why. Though, you should know, there is no excuse—no reason you can give that will end your suffering.”
As Hades rolled up his sleeves, the man began to beg, a muffled cry that Hades could decipher as “Please.”
Hades continued fixing his sleeve, and when he was finished, he removed the bind from the man’s mouth.
“Please, please,” he repeated in a shaky voice.
“Please what?” Hades asked.
“Don’t.” The word was a whisper, a plea, laced with fear.
Hades bent, eye level with the man as he spoke. “Don’t worry,” he said.
“This is not how you die.”
And as he shoved the gag back into the man’s mouth, he drew on his magic, and shards of black glass shot from the floor and speared the mortal’s feet, anchoring him in place. Blood pooled on the floor, and the mortal’s pained screams brought about a different kind of release, a means through which Hades could channel his anger and grief.
With the torture started, he retrieved a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass and dragged a chair from the bar, positioning it before his victim. He sat opposite the man and poured himself a drink, downed it, and poured another before removing the gag from the mortal’s mouth once more.