“We’re sorry, my lord,” Antoni said.
He sighed, frustrated, and then managed, “How is Zofie?”
“Ah, well, she’s…I think she expects to be… murdered.”
“Tell her it isn’t time yet,” Hades replied and hung up.
He seethed for a moment, his frustration renewed, though he was less angry at Persephone than he was at the situation she’d put herself in. She was at the mercy of another god, and as much as he hated that, he knew she hated it more.
Hades did ask Ilias to send a few of his men out to search the various clubs for Apollo while he did his best to stay occupied as he waited for
Persephone’s magic to flare to life once more, and when it did, he teleported, appearing in her room. He heard voices coming from the living room—Sybil, Zofie, and Antoni.
“What did Apollo make you do?” he heard Sybil ask, and he held his breath as she answered.
“He wanted me to judge a karaoke contest,” Persephone replied. “And he threw a fit when I did not choose him as the winner.”
Hades felt a sense of pride that she had refused to name Apollo as the winner, though anxiety quickly followed at the thought of what he’d do in retaliation.
“Tell me you didn’t, Persephone,” Sybil said, sounding shocked. “Apollo does not lose.”
“Well, he did tonight,” she replied smugly. “He could not hold a candle to Marsyas. I doubt he will be eager to have me judge him again. He ended the night with a kick to the balls.”
A smile curled Hades’s lips.
She was definitely the opposite of Leuce.
There was a beat of silence.
“Any updates on Lexa?” Persephone asked. It was a question delivered with care and a little trepidation as if she feared the answer, though she knew it would not be death.
“She was still asleep when I visited,” Sybil answered.
Another bout of silence followed, and there was an energy running through him that made him impatient to see her. He had no idea what kind of struggle she had faced when Apollo had snatched her to do his bidding, had no idea what sort of stress and anxiety she was feeling in the aftermath of Lexa’s… healing…but it did not sound good or pleasant.
“I’m going to bed,” Persephone said after a while. “See you guys tomorrow.”
She noticed him immediately upon entering her room and closed the door.
She did not pause in surprise or hesitate to be alone with him.
“How long have you been here?” she asked.
“Not long,” he said.
There was a pause as she threw her purse on the bed. “You know what happened?”
“I overheard, yes.”
She swallowed and asked in a quiet voice, “Are you angry?”
“Yes, but not with you.”
He took two steps forward, which brought him close enough to touch her.
He placed his hands on her arms, swept them up to her shoulders, and then touched her face. Her skin was warm, and she smelled like vanilla and lavender—pleasant and sweet.
He wanted to pull her close and bury his face in her hair. He wanted to kiss her and make love to her. He wanted to promise her things that were beyond this world.
“I couldn’t sense you,” he said, staring hard at her. He wanted to know how she did it, how she cut him off from her magic. “I couldn’t find you.”
“I’m here, Hades. I’m fine.” Her tone was hushed, and she stared up at him, placing her hands on his forearms.
Fine.
She was fine.
That word rattled through his head wrong, and he released her, reaching to turn on the light. When he looked back at her, she was squinting.
“You will never know how difficult this is for me,” he said. He wasn’t even sure what he was talking about—if it was Lexa or Apollo or just the distance he felt between them, a dark chasm that lay at their feet, though Persephone obviously thought she knew, because she had a reply.
“I imagine as difficult as it’s been for me to deal with Minthe and Leuce, except that Apollo has never been my lover.”
Hades glared. He did not like Apollo’s name and the word lover spoken so close together, and if he could, he would take them from her mouth and spit them on the ground.
“You have not been to the Underworld.” He tried not to make it sound like an accusation, but he could not help it. When she was angry, she seemed to avoid it altogether. She crossed her arms, as if she wanted to deflect his words.
“I’ve been busy.”
“The souls miss you, Persephone.” I miss you. “Do not punish them because you are angry with me.”