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A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)(77)

Author:Scarlett St. Clair

“More of Iniquity?” he asked, surprised, feeling a little of the warmth drain from his face.

“Yes,” she said.

“Do I have a choice?”

They had just reconciled, and he really did not feel like fighting anymore, though he had to admit, the fact that she had asked to see more and not left him in a hurry was promising.

“If I am ever to be your queen? No.”

She had a point. If she eventually agreed to marry him, she was going to inherit more than a kingdom.

She would have an empire.

Chapter XVIII

Fucking Cake

Hades led Persephone from Kal’s suite and into the private hallway where he’d watched them earlier. She noted the one-way mirror, pointing at it with her thumb.

“So you spy on all your staff?”

“Think of them as tenants,” Hades said. “And yes.”

He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her through a network of passages until they reached his private suite. This one overlooked the public floor of Iniquity. Persephone went to the row of windows, which flashed bright with red light and then darkness, looking below at the crowd.

“When I was down there, I felt possessed,” she said.

Hades came up behind her, caging her body, and while she watched the floor, he watched her.

“You said you wanted me,” he said.

“I did,” she said, then turned toward him. “But it was ruined.”

Hades stared down at her. “What did you see?”

She shrugged and answered, “I wanted you and I imagined you there, touching me and filling me, and then all of a sudden, it wasn’t me beneath you. It was Leuce.”

He frowned and brushed his fingers along her jaw. “It wasn’t real. You know that?”

“It felt real in the moment,” she said. “Was it magic?”

Hades glanced over her shoulder, and Persephone followed his gaze.

“It’s more of a drug,” he said.

It was one of Hecate’s creations, and the side effects were different for everyone.

“Are you saying you drug everyone who enters this club?”

“It is part of why people come to Iniquity. Whoever gave you the password should have warned you.”

At his comment, she shut down. He could see it in her eyes and the press of her lips.

“Show me more,” she said, stepping to the side to escape him, or at least that was how he felt, as if she were running from him, putting more distance between them, but he said nothing, only leading her from the overlook and back into the dark passageways of Iniquity.

This time, he took her to the lower levels, and as they rode the elevator down, she stood opposite him, studying him, as if trying to figure out exactly who he was.

He didn’t like it.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as if she wanted to be prepared for whatever laid beyond this elevator.

Hades stared at her for a moment. “I’m not sure what you expect to find here, but it isn’t what you are thinking.”

“And what am I thinking?” she challenged.

“The worst,” he replied.

She did not deny it, but then she said, “Knowledge changes perception, Hades.”

When the doors opened, he offered his hand, and he felt a little more relief when she accepted. As they stepped into a darkened hallway, he spoke. “This part of the club is reserved for guests who possess a token for entry,” he explained. “An obol.”

“I see you have repurposed the idea of paying to enter the Underworld.”

He chuckled, though coming into possession of an obol was not as easy as it was in ancient times. The ones Hades issued were gold, not silver, and they were tied to the soul, which meant as soon as the possessor died, the obol disappeared. It also made forgery impossible, as each of them was unique to the grantee.

He did not give them out lightly, and because he was the only one who could grant them, he could ensure those who were given a token were honest—at least, in the ways that counted.

He continued leading Persephone down a darkened hall and into his office. It was similar to the last in how it was structured, a wall of dark windows allowing him to peer down at the activities on the floor below.

Unlike the public side, there was no dancing here, no loud music. This was not a place members came to let go of their inhibitions, though now and then, someone would get too drunk and spout off, and they were promptly escorted from the building.

This was a space to set aside differences. A place to establish connections.

It was the pulse, and Hades kept his finger on it at all times.

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